Falconburg Divided (The Falconburg Series Book 1)

by Sarah Waldock

  The mutterings turned now against the man Barthol whose defiance had given the whole army punishment; and there were no protests as sentence was carried out, though there was a collective groan as the quick blade of Foregrim sliced off the man’s parts. The hanging was a quick and quiet affair.

  “That was mildly nervous for a moment,” Annis remarked to Elissa. “Barthol might have whipped the men up to act rashly, forgetting that they only be as well off as they are for the leadership of a great man like Gyrfalon. I was wondering if we might have to fight in earnest against the fools.”

  “And it never occur to you that I might have joined with my comrades?” asked Elissa.

  Annis looked surprised.

  “Never,” she said. “I credit you with too much good sense to be swayed by the spurious maunderings of a man seeking a way out from being hung. Whether it is because you are a woman or just sensible I am not sure. But you are no fool, and it would have been messy, half for and half against Gyrfalon. And hard to tell friend from foe. Did that fellow actually imply that Lord Gyrfalon is being sufficiently injudicious as to damage the value of a virgin hostage?”

  “That was how I understood what he said,” said Elissa dryly.

  “Idiot,” said Annis. “And how would such a short sighted fellow that could think only with his cods ever manage to hold a castle?”

  “By believing, I should think, that having a loud voice and a lot of weaponry constituted being a leader,” said Elissa. “I guess I’d rather follow you into battle, untried as you are; at least you have a grasp of reality and, more important, the things an army needs besides weapons.”

  “And does Lord Gyrfalon know that you too understand the value of supplies and procurement of food and clothing?” said Annis “Because if he does not, I shall tell him; that you should be promoted captain.”

  “He does now,” said Gyrfalon’s voice behind her as he came up silently. “Elissa I underestimate you; I shall watch you closely and see of mine own mind that you warrant a captaincy; I may take the odd suggestion from mine hostage but I think I’ll not have her making my promotions for me. As to you, my girl, I trust that you have been considering as I told you to do; and when you have salved my face we will discuss that further.”

  “My lord,” Annis curtseyed; and went for her salves.

  Chapter 5

  “So tell me girl, why did I hang him?” Gyrfalon asked.

  Annis had been thinking deeply.

  “Lest the resentment be deep enough for him to overcome fear and try to kill you or foment mutiny – as indeed he tried,” she said. Gyrfalon nodded.

  “Understand, child, that such a punishment strikes deep into a man’s being. It could destroy his mind. Even a supposedly celibate monk would be affected. Even I, who have no chance of attracting women,” he concluded bitterly, sneering at himself and at Barthol for his assumption that he, Gyrfalon, would take an unwilling woman as the soldier had no hesitation in doing.

  Annis, sidetracked, stared at him in bewilderment. Gyrfalon was in the habit of leaving his helmet off as the salve worked in when he would talk to her after her treatment and she scarcely noticed his ruined face.

  “I think, my lord, you are oversensitive about your scars,” she said. “I see no reason that they would be sufficient to be responsible for diminishing your appeal as a man.”

  He smiled a brief, twisted, bitter smile.

  “You are determined to accuse me of over sensitivity!” he sneered “But I suspect you have merely become used to the hideous aspect of my face.”

  She shrugged.

  “Maybe. It is not pretty; but is it not the point that I have got used to it? It can be got used to. It is not as though the scarring has touched your lips,” she flushed rosy pink, “such as a woman be interested in; and your body is muscular and vigorous as is apparent when you strip your sleeves for my sword practice,” the flush had deepened and Annis was annoyed at herself that her body behaved in so silly a way as to blush like a silly peasant wench.

  Gyrfalon laughed mirthlessly.

  “So you would be prepared to wed me then?” he asked scornfully, watching her for the recoil he anticipated at such an idea. But she regarded him steadily, ignoring the fresh wave of blood that mounted to her face.

  “I don’t see why not,” she said. “You are a far preferable bridegroom to the one picked for me by my father; though I fear that scarce flatters you my lord. You claim wickedness; but compared to him you are a very stranger to the ways of evil. But if you wish to wed me I would lay certain conditions; that I may not demand but would ask of our good understanding so far.”

  “Conditions? You would wed me on conditions?” He was curious; cynical; but he had to ask. She nodded.

  “Firstly I would wish to be married by a priest who has not been coerced – or at least,” she amended, “only coerced a little bit; and I would expect to stand as junior partner to mine husband, taking a share in the running of his demesne, consulted by him. Not relegated to the position of producing a baby a year until I died of it; that I choose to use herbs to control when I might conceive and how often. Those are my conditions.”

  Somehow referring to a husband in the third person made her blush less than had she used second person to him.

  “Is that all?” he stared. That she spoke of using herbs to inhibit conception meant she did not mean to impose any regulation on her husband about when he should lay with her surely! She smiled.

  “It is sufficient. After all, if I were unsatisfied by my treatment, well then, a man would find his – recreation – hard to take if he were spending all his free time in the garderobe.”

  He laughed, delighted with her vindictive pronouncement.

  “Little savage, I declare any man that would be your husband must be a brave man indeed – or a foolhardy one! But then, mistress I-have-it-all-under-control, what is so terrible about your betrothed that you think me almost sinless? Am I not condemned and vilified by the church?”

  She sniffed.

  “My lord hath too much honesty and personal integrity to make the correct bribes to the right high ranking churchman that he get preferment and his sins get overlooked and covered by indulgences,” she told him cynically. “Lord Marfey does. As to his wickedness my lord,” a shudder went through her body and he read horror in her smoky eyes, “though I be a skilled healer I could not save the life of a peasant girl some eleven summers old who was birthing his child; nor that of the babe. And he had been using that little girl for three years. I am small enough and slight enough that I may fit within his perverse desires, that he may imagine me younger than my years, at least enough that he hope to get an heir on me as he desires. But he is loathsome!” she shuddered again and moved close to the warlord as for protection. He laid a brief hand on her shoulder.

  “An exotic pastime,” commented Gyrfalon disgusted. “He is no man.”

  “Do you know what I would like?” said Annis, viciously.

  “No; but somehow I expect that you are going to tell me,” he said dryly.

  “I would like,” she said, her eyes flashing, “to perform an introduction between Marfey’s tripes and the good fresh air. Rather slower than I did to Solly.”

  Gyrfalon laughed.

  “Well at least I know your words are not merely vain and that you’d not chicken out of following them through. And perchance you may yet have the opportunity; it does not require a mighty slash to empty the guts into the lap.”

  She smiled at him, a brittle smile.

  “A little cut and then kick him over backwards, perchance down a few steps,” she mused. “I should think that everything ought to come tumbling out on the way down, shouldn’t you?”

  He looked at her with admiration.

  “You really are a little virago, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve been hating him for as along as I knew what he was; and then even more since my dear father proposed an alliance with him,” she said. “Women are often crueller than
men you know when they learn to hate.”

  His face closed like a shutter and his hand went involuntarily to his left eye.

  “Yes,” he agreed flatly. “Cruel and faithless.”

  “Not all faithless,” said Annis “Will you tell me of her?”

  “Tell you? Why not?” he shrugged. He sat back in the big oaken chair and stared into the distance, his mouth twisted, not quite a sneer on it, not quite pain. Annis dropped onto the floor beside his chair and leaned against his leg. He did not notice for his thoughts were far away and a number of years distant. “My father held a castle on the Northern Marches” he began. “I grew up knowing it would fall to my lot to help defend the kingdom against the barbarian hordes. My mother died when I was small; I barely remember her. I grew up mothered by my father’s troops,” he paused a moment. “They were what an army should be. And such I will make my rabble. I may be prepared to show myself as bad as ever I have been painted and worse, but I’ll be it with efficiency and not as some –what did you say, half baked bandit” he snorted “You know how to poke in barbed comments sharper than any sword girl. Anyway” he added harshly “When I was ten years old my father remarried; and I was ready enough to greet my stepmother doucely at first. But she would treat me like a baby, so we got off rather on the wrong foot; and my relationship with my father was less good for he accused me of jealousy and not trying to get on with my stepmother and would not listen to explanation, declaring that it was her good care for me that made her limit me from doing what I had been doing for years. Rowing myself, or riding out unattended, these things were too much for a boy of ten,” he sneered.

  “That a maid of ten ride out unattended, save on her father’s own lands might be cause for concern but if you ask me she sounds a trifle touched in the upper works,” said Annis scornfully.

  He gave a brief bark of laughter.

  “You are refreshing, my child….. anyway, she had a baby boy and then it was better for she virtually ignored me, lavishing all her maternal foolishness on the child. And when he got older he followed me about like a tantony pig and wanted to learn from me. It was…..flattering,” he scowled. “I taught him all I could, though his idiot mother had impractical ideas on warfare. She accounted it against the laws of God for any reason, even protection; and she wanted her baby protected from anything nasty as though he were a maid child. He was quite seven ere he was breeched,” he sniffed. “Anyway, for me life was fairly good; I was learning to lead men and my father needed me to deputise for him for his wounds received in battle and his eld were becoming too much for him as a leader of men in the cruel cold of the north. But he meantime arranged for me a betrothal with a daughter of a neighbour; and she was the prettiest little thing. Soft gold hair and big blue eyes and she hung on my stories of life in the marches with her little rosebud lips parted in excitement for my tales,” he glared down at Annis. “You have a look of her.”

  Annis threw back her head and gazed up at him, looking down her little nose.

  “I have the look of myself, Lord Gyrfalon” she said curtly “I am mine own self and nobody’s copy”

  He gave a half smile and reached out a hand as if to touch her face, then withdrew it abruptly.

  “You are an original” he admitted. “Well, to continue; years past as I waited for Alys to grow up; and I came home from a lull in the fighting, expecting praise from my father for repelling a stiff attack – I had done well and the men had performed superbly – and admiration from my little brother. I also expected to have time to get married.” He clenched the arms of the chair with both hands. “I was wounded; half a burning house fell on me, so I came home unexpectedly, with a broken arm and a burned face and neck. And when I arrived, I came in on the wedding day of my sweetheart and betrothed who was then at dalliance with her new husband – my dear brother!” He spat the words from between clenched teeth. “I lost my temper – who would not? – and tried to kill him for such duplicity.”

  “Had he no explanation?”

  “Only that he loved her and she loved him, and when a false rumour had reported my death, they found themselves free to marry. Without thinking to verify the rumour, mark you; and equally my father chose to believe the rumour, as I later found out, to bequeath the family birthright to my younger brother. A sword, made by the elves; which would have aided me greatly on the frontier. It was bound to our family, and our totem, the falcon, and the pommel a piece of amber from the far north, almost as big as a fist, which looks like a falcon’s eye. Those bound to it may find many powers through it, including, it is rumoured, the ability to assume the form of a hawk or falcon at will. Though our blood might be too diluted for that power,” he added wistfully. “And I confess I was in such a rage I demanded that Falk should fight me. I think,” he said, softly, “Had I but cut him, my rage would have dissolved. But the wench threw herself between us.”

  Annis gasped.

  “How stupid! Why if she feared for your brother, she had done better to have found a branch to sweep your feet from under you, or brain you with it!”

  He laughed a harsh laugh.

  “You are undoubtedly more of a prize to any man than my idiotic fiancée,” he said. “Naturally, she was mortally wounded, and her dying words were a curse that the wound I had sustained would consume me with pain forever, and mar my face so all who saw me would know my evil. This wound,” he touched the scar on his face. “So now you know. Now you know that I am cursed by a devout Christian wench and hunted by her equally devout lover, my noble upright brother; and you know now why I see this devout stance as no more than filthy canting hypocrisy and sickly words that have no depth!”

  Annis laid her hand on his arm.

  “Not so noble and upright if he deceived you” she said dryly “To fall in love cannot be helped – but he should have written to you, begged your pardon, and explained.”

  Gyrfalon snorted.

  “He said he wanted to tell me face to face, man to man. HAH!”

  “An idiot too then” said Annis.

  “No, he is not stupid. Else I had been able to kill him long ago, despite the magic sword that should have been mine. No, he is just too noble to be true.”

  “Had he….with her?” asked Annis delicately.

  “I doubt it,” he sniffed. “Not outside of marriage; too improper.”

  “These noble types probably have difficulty finding it anyway,” was Annis’ verdict. “Anyone that boring deserves to be saddled with a milksop.”

  He stared; then laughed.

  “You know far more than a young girl of noble birth should!” he said.

  “We have horses. How can anyone miss figuring out what goes on?” she said prosaically “Stallions run around with it all on display in almost as foolish a display as some of your men. Besides, I am a healer; I have delivered babies since my years were first marked by double figures. To pretend ignorance is but coy foolishness.” She frowned thoughtfully “If she was a maid the curse would be effective if folklore is to be believed. But,

  ‘a curse that's laid by maiden pure

  unblemished maiden then must cure’

  as they say; so my lord we had better cancel any wedding arrangements until such time as I have sorted out your face; for I am a maiden as may be able so to do.”

  He gazed down at her, his expression unfathomable.

  “We shall see,” he said harshly.

  Elissa waited outside the tower, perched on a buttress, eavesdropping on the conversation of the troops. Annis’ suggestion that she should be a captain had given her furiously to think; and she had come to the conclusion that the reason Gyrfalon was such a good leader was that he know most of what was going on amongst his men; and knew their mood and how to play it. Consequently she listened to a group discussing the execution; and Annis’ part in it.

  “I heered her, plain as plain” one was saying “Ee-masculate ‘im she say, cool as you please!”

  “Ar, and her do look the sweetest, most harmle
ss liddle thing too!” marvelled another.

  “Sure, I’d not have laid a finger on her for fear o’ lord Gyrfalon anyway,” put in a third “But it’s on her own account I’ll be avoiding giving her any reason to take offence!”

  Elissa chuckled quietly to herself.

  “D’you reckon as he’s swiving her like Barthol said he were?” the first voice asked.

  “Ar, woud’n’ be surprised,” said the second. “Iff’n y’ ask me they bloody deserve each other!”

  There were sounds of assent; and Elissa smiled to herself. Although she could readily tell the men that Annis never stirred from the chamber across whose door Elissa now slept, it made her job of guarding the girl easier if the men thought she was the personal property of their warlord!

  The old man, as they called him half fearfully, half in the odd affection a soldier has for his commander whatever they feel for him, had never showed any inclination to take a woman before. Or a boy or even an ass. Elissa had come across both of those inclinations. She wondered about Annis though. He was ... different … in his treatment of the girl; that were half the same as the way he was wont to treat the ill-fated Buto and half … something else. And what might happen an he decided he desired the chit Elissa was afraid to contemplate; for Annis were not one to take being disposed at the pleasure of others without retaliation. Elissa shuddered and hoped fervently that the warlord’s interest was purely as to a potential adoptive daughter. Annis would surely never accept any such overtures from Gyrfalon, she thought!