The Aebeling

by O'Neill, Michael

  ‘I am ashamed to say that I did not, Thane’.

  ‘Sighard, there is no need to be ashamed, it would seem that we have all been played. It would seem that the Aebeling of Kanian knew that it was not in his own best interest to officially accept the document.’

  ‘I agree – I suspect that the Witan would have approved. Murdering the envoy and stealing the document was a certain way of covering his tracks. Do we send another?’

  Conn shook his head. ‘No; I doubt that it will be successful. The Aebeling will find some other reason not to acquiesce.’

  Conn addressed the deputy. ‘And the Ryals?’

  ‘I still have them, thought there was evidence that someone knew we had gold, as our rooms had been ransacked while we were out. But it was under guard in the ship. I took it back as soon as I couldn’t find the Envoy.’

  They thanked and dismissed the envoy.

  Conn was curious. ‘Your envoy – does he have a family?’

  ‘I believe so; just a single bedda and a daughter.’

  ‘I will provide you with sufficient Ryals so that she has a dowry to find another bedda. We don’t want her becoming a theow because of this incident.’

  The loss of the man in the household was a tragedy for any family, and as the fourth son of an Eaorl, his bedda would not be from the highest of families. There would probably be no one to take care of them.

  Driscol nodded. ‘I will send a servant to fetch her.’ Driscol stood to leave. ‘What are you going to do now?’

  ‘It looks like it will be plan B.’

  ‘What is plan B?’

  ‘March through; I have no fear of the Kanian Fyrd – but any interference will make it slower and I will lose good men on a battle that should be – could be – avoided. I’m not very fond of plan B. And for the rest of this year I’m returning to Susa to prepare.’

  Serendipitously, the Eaorl of Susa’s lands bordered the Eaorldom of Nisa in Kania; and Conn made an effort to train his Fryd as close as possible to the border as possible. It didn’t go unnoticed. Wiga belonging to the Eaorl of Nisa patrolled nervously every day; the prospect of the two thousand men marching across was not lost on the fifty men. It wasn’t long before there was an unofficial visit by the Eaorl of Nisa himself.

  Dubgall il Nisa, Eaorl, was a cousin to Bran, the Aebeling of Moetia; and he used that pretence to visit the cotlif. Bran brought him to meet Conn, and Conn didn’t hide the Fryd at training. The three of them watched as wave after wave of wiga raced past straw targets and fired arrows; the marksmanship was getting better by the day and after a single run, the straw wiga were peppered with arrows; over ninety percentage at two hundred yards.

  Conn could see that Dubgall was visibly shaking; perhaps he could see himself at the end of one of those arrows.

  Conn was direct. ‘Eaorl, you need to find a way to stay out of the way; I will take my Fryd to Trokia with the consent of Kania or not.’

  Conn thought that explaining his purpose might surprise the Eaorl, and it did.

  ‘Trokia? You intend to go to Trokia?’

  ‘Did not your Aebeling inform you of our request to pass through your lands?’

  Dubgall shook his head, ‘No he did not. He said that you were intending to invade Kania because of the death of your envoy or something. It has all been unclear…’

  ‘What about the Witan?’

  ‘The Witan has not been held for three years… our Healdend rules alone – with the assistance of his Rakian advisor.’ The last comment was said with some spite. ‘But it is a little clearer now – our Healdend will be determined to stop you – at any cost – from providing any assistance to Trokia. He has some ambition of reuniting Trokia with Kania. The current Wealdend has a daughter but no grandchildren; and there is some speculation about who will be Wealdend after her. Our Healdend offered to take her cousin as bedda but the offer was refused.’

  It was all a little clearer for Conn as well. ‘So is there any way for you all not to get killed?’

  He laughed ruefully. ‘Somehow, I don’t think so. Our Healdend, or at least his advisor, will be determined to get us all killed. I can only hope that you can…’

  ‘Who’s the advisor?’

  ‘Theostan, Eaorl of Dor. He is cousin to the Healdend of Rakia, and cousin to our Healdend.’ He explained that the Aebeling had to sell Dor to the highest bidder as he needed the funds — it turned out that it was his Rakian cousin who was successful.

  A few weeks later, Conn hurriedly returned to Moetiak at the request of the Healdend – he had been informed that an official envoy from the ‘Healdend’ of Kanian had arrived to speak to Driscol, and it was in fact the Eaorl in question – Theostan, Eaorl of Dor.

  Driscol had kept him waiting a week due to one reason or another – he was even “ill” for a few days. On Conn arrival back in the cotlif, Driscol agreed to see the Envoy. Not surprisingly, the already extremely annoyed Theostan, upset at being kept waiting, was furious to find Conn with the Healdend when he arrived – and more so when it was evident he was staying. His day didn’t improve from that low point.

  Theostan was definitely related to the Healdend of Rakia as Conn felt the presence of that voice in his head as soon as the envoy arrived; when it realized that Conn was there, the Gyden’s disposition declined as well. She really hated Conn – and he fought the desire to let her know that he could feel her. Sense prevailed and he chose to toy with the envoy instead.

  Halla was also present; she’s informed Conn that she knew the envoy – even once intimately. When he recognised her, emotions – mainly confusion – swept his face.

  The Reeve introduced Theostan il Dor, Eaorl, to the Healdend as the official envoy of Gorman, Aebeling of Kanian.

  Theostan’s first act was to complain. ‘Driscol, Healdend of Moetia. I thank you for the audience and hope that you have recovered from your week of illnesses, but I must protest. Gorman is the Healdend of Kanian not Aebeling.’

  Driscol shook his head. ‘According to you – but not to me or the Wealdend of Trokia. It is your own foolish invention. You may call him what you like – but cousin Gorman will never be called a Healdend in my keep. The only one who chooses to call him Healdend is the other upstart – Fallon of Rakia – who is also an Aebeling according to me.’

  Insult upon injury, Theostan had little choice but to move on. ‘I must also protest at the presence of the ... the… the Thane of Atrak. He has no standing to be in an audience between neighboring nations.’

  Driscol smiled a thin smile. ‘Humor me – I am after all a Healdend and you are a Thane…’

  ‘I am an Eaorl!’

  ‘Technicality – but your father was a Thane in Rakia if I’m not mistaken. Given that the Witan of Kania has never officially approved the usurping of the domain of Dor, I’ll give you no standing except that of Envoy of the Aebeling – and son of a Thane. ’

  Deeply offended again, Theostan went bright red. ‘You will regret …’ he started to say but quickly pulled himself back. He took a deep breath. ‘I have been sent by the Witan of Kanian to request – no, demand – that the Fyrd that gathers on the border of Nisa be dispersed immediately. It is a violation of the treaty that exists between our two nations.’

  ‘What treaty – we don’t have a treaty. I’m surprised that the Witan didn’t know that. There is only a treaty between Trokia and Moetia – not one between Kania and Moetia. Are you sure the Witan sent you? I am reliably informed that the Witan hasn’t met for three years…’

  Theostan continued unabated. ‘It is a grievance that must be addressed. Kania considers that the Fyrd is an act of war and that Moetia needs to disband the wiga – or face significant consequences. We know what the purpose is and it will not be tolerated. This feorrancund will’ he pointed to Conn, ‘will never be allowed to travel through...’

  Driscol interrupted. ‘How do you know that the Fyrd want to travel through Kania?’ he demanded. ‘That has never been mentioned.’

&n
bsp; He recovered quickly. ‘One can only assume that was the purpose. To help and support the… the … activities of the Trokians against our kin, the Gatinans. It is known that,’ he pointed to Conn without using his name, ‘he is a supporter of Silekians.’

  Conn stood. ‘Where is it a crime to be a supporter of Silekians?’

  Theostan didn’t answer. Conn continued.

  ‘I’ll take that as nowhere – except in Rakia that is – and why is it wrong to assist someone defending themselves against an invading Fryd? Do you deny that there are Rakian wiga in the Gatinan Fyrd?’

  ‘There are no Rakians...’

  Conn interrupted, forcefully. ‘Envoy, do not lie to me. I happen to know that there are nearly a thousand wiga from Rakia in Gatina and they are led by the Eaorl of Motya.’

  The blood drained from Theostan’s face. ‘How could you know ...?’ He didn’t finish the question.

  Conn interrupted. ‘My sources are my business. I also understand that the Eaorl of Motya is also your cousin and the father of one of Gorman’s bedda?’

  When Theostan didn’t answer, Conn looked at Driscol. ‘Is it fair to say that this alone gives the Aebeling good reason to want to deny us passage through Kania – and the only reason he would know we want to is because he has read the document we sent to Kania – the one that disappeared when our envoy was murdered?’

  Driscol agreed, ‘It’s a fair assumption. And on that basis, it would be fair to assume that the Aebeling of Kanian has in all probability been complicit in the murder of an official envoy of Moetia.’

  Conn looked at the envoy directly. ‘In the history of Taransay, the murder of an envoy once led to the death of fifty thousand people, their women and children sold into slavery and their cities rendered to dust.’ He turned back to Driscol. ‘With your permission, Healdend, I will alter my objective and invade Kania instead. I should be able to have Gorman’s head on a spike within a week or two, and I will take the domain of Dor as my reward. I will try not to kill fifty thousand people.’

  The Eaorl wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the words.

  Driscol contemplated Conn’s question before addressing Theostan. ‘I will keep the option of declaring war on Kania under consideration. It seems to me, however, that Kania has no claim against this house or any grievance that I would bother our Witan with. I would suggest that you return to Kania as soon as possible and advise the “Aebeling” that the Thane of Hama will continue to train his Fyrd in Susa as long as he likes with my permission, and if he wishes to take them to support Trokia, he has my permission to do that as well. I have a document from the Healdend requesting support and I’m seriously considering sending my Fyrd with the Thane of Hama. If you wish to stop him, you are welcome to try but I’d strongly advise against it.’

  ‘In fact’, Conn added for good measure, ‘I invite your resistance. It will give my wiga some real live targets. They are good now – but after running a few blades through you and the Kanians, they will be even better.’

  Theostan was boiling; the Gyden in his head was apoplectic. He struggled to bow his head to the Healdend, and he turned to leave. Halla was in his line of sight, and he addressed her.

  ‘Why does Halla il Cyme cast her lot with such as these? Surely the Aebeling could have refused such an onerous commission. We have missed you in Kania, and look forward to your next tour of duty.’

  In response, Halla held her arms so that her clenched fists were near her neck and the gold bands were not to be seen.

  ‘No! That is impossible! You are theow?’ He turned and looked at Conn with, it was possible, even more anger and frustration. ‘Your time will come Feorrancund; your time will come.’

  ‘Perhaps – but not today. Speaking of theow, I understood that you once ordered a Twacuman theow from Gatina.’

  Theostan looked at him with amazement. He was visually shocked that Conn knew such a thing. Conn continued.

  ‘You will be happy to know she is home in Halani – with her people. I stole her from the slave trader…’

  Fury flashed over his face. He yelled, ‘You STOLE my theow! I will... you will…’ He ran out of words and alternatives so stormed out of the hall.

  ‘Well, I thought that went well’, added the Healdend as the departing Rakian disappeared from sight, ‘more wine anyone?’

  Conn was curious about something the Healdend had said. ‘Do you actually have a request from the Wealdend of Trokia for assistance?’

  ‘No – I thought you did...’

  Conn laughed. ‘No, I don’t either. I send her a letter telling her I was doing, but I haven’t heard back yet’.

  ‘Oh well, I won’t tell if you don’t ... And what’s this about a stolen Twacuman?’

  CHAPTER 24

  The conversation with the Eaorl of Dor appeared to have little influence on the Aebeling’s thinking, as that the number of wiga present in Nisa only increased. By spring, there could be even more than Conn’s Fyrd.

  ‘So they are going to stay there until spring? Surely they are not mad?’ Arlen was confused as winter was approaching and they seemed to be setting up a permanent presence.

  ‘Not totally; the real Kanian Fyrd is not there. It seems to be a collection of aged wiga from the Thane fiefs and some raw recruits – we would slaughter them if we actually have to fight them.’ Conn had spies keeping him informed.

  ‘Isn’t that a good thing?’ Aerlene asked. Conn was sitting with her and Arlen in the keep in Susa. ‘We won’t lose as many?’

  ‘Not good at all – it’s a very bad outcome – the Aebeling will be able to blame us for the wholesale massacre of his people and bring in Rakians to fill their place. I’m sure he will have an escape plan – and a hundred Valkeri to protect him. I’m not killing a hundred Valkeri to get to him. It is time for plan C.’

  ‘How many plans do you have? What if plan C doesn’t work – Plan D?’

  ‘No, we go back to plan B – modified. That involves taking over Kania.’

  ‘And killing a hundred of my kin?’ Halla asked anxiously.

  ‘Possibly, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that – and plan C works.’

  ‘So what is plan C?’

  He told them that they were going to find the brigands.

  Halla laughed – she was starting to see the funny side of things. ‘You mean Esras – and how do you intend to do that? I tried and couldn’t.’

  ‘You will see.’

  It was late-autumn when the three of them crossed into Kania. Conn travelled up to the edge of the great forest before crossing, and fired an arrow into a tall pine; much to the bemusement of Halla and Arlen.

  ‘Just practise’ he said.

  ‘Waste of an arrow more like…’

  The three riders attracted little interest in Nisa, as the Eaorl had been informed and they were also riding on the edge of his domain – on the border of Halani where is was largely unpopulated except for shepherds – and it was starting to get too cold for them at night as well.

  When they arrived into Shekem, however, the situation changed. They were confronted by a small Fyrd from a Thane fief, and when given a choice of letting them pass or dying, they chose the former – especially as Conn assured that they would harm nothing and no one; and handed over a few gold Ryals to sweeten the deal.

  A few days into Shekem they knew, however, that they were being followed, and skilfully.

  ‘How many do you think? Halla asked. She now understood Conn’s tactics – he wasn’t going to find Eras – Eras was going to find him.

  ‘Three, two stay right back and one tails. I think tonight we need to pay them a visit. They are not camping together.’

  On night they set up as usual; a large fire and a small yurt as it was becoming very cold at night. At midnight, leaving the animals behind, they crept out of the camp, and slowly encircled the camps of the brigands. The prey had been well trained, and had concealed themselves in brush and bush with their horses in nearby
gullies.

  The night had enough light to just get about, and after Conn arrived at the campsite of one of the brigands, he searched for traps and snares. If you travel alone, you need to have traps set for intruders so that you can sleep. Conn found several and undid them. It had taken him several hours to get within three meters of the target; now he would rest and only move a little every hour until he was lying half a meter away. He quietly removed the sword from near the target’s hand, and waited. As the distant sun started to send its rays forward, Conn tapped the brigand on the chest with his blade. He tried to sit up but Conn restrained him with the blunt side of the sword.

  ‘Steady; no one fast moves and no one dies. Not that I mind so much as it won’t be me. Sit up quietly.’

  When he did – it wasn’t a him – Conn was surprised to find that the tailer was a young girl; maybe sixteen; very pretty in a boyish way with her very short black hair but large brown eyes.

  ‘Good morning, young lady. Not a word now. We wouldn’t want to scare the wildlife, would we?’ Conn reached for a whistle in his pocket and gave it a quick burst. Two sounds responded. All three had been captured.

  Conn stood, the need for stealth gone, ‘Ok, let’s pack up your stuff, littering is bad for the environment.’

  Leaving her unguarded but weapon-less, Conn went and fetched her horse, and together they walked to his camp. The other two were already there, and by the time they arrived, Halla was busy preparing breakfast. The girl had said nothing the entire trip. The other two prisoners were young men; but none were older than seventeen.

  Halla gave them food which they accepted gratefully. Conn opened up a dialogue. ‘Firstly, I commend your master, he has trained you well.’

  ‘But not well enough.’ one answered.

  ‘True, but it was a good start. Do you know who I am?’

  ‘No, except that you are from Moetia, but E ... our master didn’t understand what and why you were doing wandering around Shekem, so he had us follow you until you left.’