The silver-haired man spoke first, fingering a necklace on which hung a round badge of some kind. His voice was as dry as rustling reeds. “Lord Aelfric, I am Aldous Knacker, head of the Grain Board of Walcox. I wish a word.”
Aelfric looked up. “Yes, what is it?”
“First, I wish to lodge a minor complaint with you. Early this morning I was approached by goodman Arkim here, and he advise me that you wished to have an accounting of the battlefield. I must tell you, and this is the basis of my complaint, the request should have come to the Grain Board. Arkim is an excellent man, but he is not certified to bring an accounting. However, we did not wish to make complaint under the circumstances, as all were weary just after the battle, and it seemed a minor thing. In future I would request that all such matters of accounting be given over to the Grain Board for disposition.” Knacker looked very serious and a little bit put out.
“I will try to remember.” Aelfric said wryly. He’d had no idea that counting the dead was a guild matter in Walcox. Guildmasters could be very touchy about others stepping into their bailiwick.
“Thankfully, I have completed the accounting.” Knacker said, while Arkim stood by looking uncomfortable. “Arkim at least had the good sense to approach the proper people to see to this task.” The look he gave to Aelfric was slightly accusing. “I had to get several men from the milliner’s office to aid me in the accounting, and I am sure there are several minor errors that we will fix during the next few days. Also, many of the dead in the north camp have been mutilated, and it seems the Auligs were taking heads for trophies. I fear there are many we will never be able to identify.”
“Thank you, Sir Knacker.” Aelfric replied.
“Guildmaster Knacker.” The man corrected him.
“Thank you Guildmaster Knacker. I am sure it was no easy task. What have you learned?”
“The first thing we did was to make an accounting of our dead, that is, the dead on the Mortentian side.” He took a small book from a pocket sewn inside of his finely tailored gray overcoat, and began reading from it, holding his place with a finger as he dryly recited numbers. “In the northern camp we found the certain bodies of five thousand, three hundred and sixteen soldiers. Of these, two thousand and eighteen wore the livery of the regular army, three hundred and twelve were clothed in the manner of servants and retainers, eight hundred and six were house soldiers from minor houses in Northcraven, two hundred and eighteen were of minor house levies from the southern territories, near as we could tell. The remaining two thousand, one hundred and eighty were of the mercenary companies, divided roughly equally between those who mustered with you at Silver Run and those who mustered in Nevermind or came with that group. Additionally, the remains of ninety eight horses were discovered, as well as thirty nine men who could not be identified due to the dispoilation of their bodies. One hundred and six women were also identified, although it is unknown how many of these were the spouses of the soldiers and how many were … ahem … just visiting.” Knacker’s voice was dry and cold, and Aelfric could not tell if he was feeling any emotion at all.
“Go on.” Aelfric said when the man paused.
“Yes, well, we found the bodies of three hundred and sixteen Mortentians along the passage between the town and the Privy Fort, as they call it, and another twenty-seven between that place and the forest. Scattered in the fields surrounding the town we also found the certain bodies of some twenty seven persons, mostly freemen from Walcox. Within the town were four hundred and nine certain bodies, although the fires make it likely that we will have many more for whom we cannot account.” Aelfric grimaced. The task of digging through the burned rubble of Walcox to collect bodies would be long and grotesque.
“Nineteen regular army soldiers were killed defending the mill, and they saved it so that only the upper floors and the vanes of the windmill itself were burned. Also most of the grain stores are intact.” This was good news. The people of Walcox would not starve at least.
“Within the forest, and particularly concentrated within the encampment of the Auligs we discovered the bodies of seventy-eight soldiers, most of them mercenaries, as well as ten volunteers who were people of Walcox without livery.” Aelfric’s eyes widened at this.
“Only seventy-eight? Surely there were more losses there.” The Lord Mayor looked at him askance and Knacker looked horrified at his comment. “Are you including the archers who fell near the privy fort?”
There was a long pause while Knacker seemed to be trying to regain his composure. “I assure you that we have included them, my Lord.” He said at last, breathing heavily.
“What other losses did we suffer?” He felt a sudden stabbing pain in his foot. Faithborn was kicking him under the table. “What?” He demanded.
“Go easy, Aelfric.” The man said. Aelfric did not know what he meant.
“Those are all of the losses.” The Guildmaster said, looking pale.
Aelfric sighed. “All right, and what of the Aulig losses, Guildmaster?”
Knacker’s voice trembled slightly. “As to the Aulig losses, we are bit uncertain as to two or three items. First, there were a great many burned bodies discovered in the remains of what the men call the Privy Fort. We could only estimate, my Lord, and I offer apologies most sincerely, but we believe them to have numbered between four hundred and nine and five hundred and three, those being the low and the high count of my auditors, respectively.” The number sounded about right to Aelfric, so he did not question it. “Three thousand and eleven were discovered between the forest and fort, and this number should include both those who were killed during their attack on the entrenched footmen there as well as those who were killed in proximity to the fortress on the evening last.” This number, too, seemed right to Aelfric, if a trifle high.
“About the city we discovered the bodies of one hundred and eleven Auligs, shot down in fields or within the north encampment.”
“And in their forest camp?”
Knacker swallowed and looked at Aelfric nervously. “We could not be certain of every one, for there were many places in the forest where we dared not search, and there were many bodies that were difficult to account for due to missing limbs and the like.”
“So what was the count?”
“Thirty-seven thousand nine hundred and six.” Knacker replied, his eyes nervous.
“Impossible.” Aelfric answered without thinking, and Knacker appeared on the verge of tears.
“Aelfric, he’s a Guildmaster!” Faithborn hissed. “His accounting is testimony. If he gets even a single number wrong they cut off his balls! Didn’t you hear him say this was certified?”
“You have insulted him terribly.” The Lord Mayor chimed in. “You must offer apology.”
“You can take his numbers to any bank or merchant house in Mortentia and they will put gold on it.” Faithborn added. Then, turning to the Guildmaster he spoke in a gentle tone. “Guildmaster Knacker, I apologize on behalf of Lord Aelfric. I am sure your numbers are quite accurate. He was overcome with surprise, that is all, and did not mean to call your methods into question.”
“I did offer qualifications.” Knacker said defensively, his voice almost cracking with panic. “I did say that there were people we have not found and bodies we could not certainly identify.”
“I’m sorry, Guildmaster Knacker.” Aelfric said. “It is as the commander said. I was surprised at the number in the wood. Thirty-seven thousand. Are you sure?”
“Aelfric!” The Lord Mayor and Faithborn shouted as one.
“Of course you are sure.” Aelfric amended apologetically. “Please forgive my questioning.” The Guildmaster appeared to be on the edge of fainting.
“Thirty-seven thousand, nine-hundred and six.” He choked.
“You killed over forty-thousand Auligs, Aelfric.” Faithborn said, once the Guildmaster’s feelings had been soothed and he had left. “With a loss of around six-thousand on our side, and almost all of them before you had anything
to do with it.” Several Red Tigers had arrived and begun pitching a tent nearby. Haim was among them.
“I guess it’s true what they say.” Faithborn continued. “You don’t mess with the Black Duke’s get.”
Aelfric frowned. When his identity as the son of Hambar D’root had circulated among the people of Walcox, he’d known that this was inevitable.
“Black Duke’s get?” Haim asked.
“Aye.” Faithborn replied. “You’ve never heard of that?”
“No sir.” Haim said. “I guess that’s one of your Mortentian stories?”
Faithborn laughed. “One of them? Son, it is the Mortentian story. Every Mortentian should know it. Aelfric, you want to tell it, or should I?”
“I’d rather not.” Said Aelfric uncomfortably.
“Where should I begin?” Faithborn said, as if to himself. “It goes all the way back to Ulmerith, I suppose.”
“Ulmerith? I’ve heard of him. Killed the dragons, didn’t he?” Haim asked.
“He was a leader of the armies that defeated the Dragon Empire, yes.” Faithborn replied. “That was too big a job to be laid at one man’s feet, but he was definitely at the top of the list.
“Anyway, after the dragon war he settled in a city called Vantarmin, Haim. A famous city, because it was the first city to rise against the men who had Dragons. They called them Bloodlords, and the Vantarmini were always in the front of the battles against them.
“Ulmerith’s real name was Ul’Marouth, or at least that’s what I’ve heard. Ul’Marouth founded a family in Vantarmin, and they were the most famous of all of the families there. Kind of like the D’Cadmouths here. They were the first family of Vantarmin.
“Well, the Marouth family became the Arouth family over a long span of years, and they were leading figures in Vantarmin. When the Tolrissan city-states started joining together to become a nation, Vantarmin was one of the chief cities, and the Arouths were kings there.
“To make a long story short, during the unification they were picking the family that would have the kingship of Tolrissa, and the Arouths wanted it. The other first families of the other cities, kings all, they combined together and put a different family on the throne, the first family in the city-state of Utrimel. Pissed the Arouths off like you can imagine.
“In the Age of Sorrows along comes this princess named Teriella, born to the King in Utrimel. She’s this pretty little thing, and she falls in love with this knight named Faramon, one of the city’s heroes from their war with the Rhumans. Faramon’s from a Vantarmin family, but it ain’t the Arouths, and that’s a problem. The Black Duke, the Duke of Vantarmin, he’s an Arouth, and he sees this Teriella when the king is visiting Vantarmin, and he figures on marrying her himself, to put the Arouths in line for the throne of Tolrissa. So he starts plotting to get her.
“Meanwhile, Teriella and the king and their people go back to Utrimel, and Faramon gets himself made captain of a ship so he can visit her there whenever he wants. She used to wait for his ship to come by, and everybody knew what she was up to, and they thought it was good. You can still hear songs about their romance in the taverns around Kancro.
“The Black Duke, he’s hearing about this, and getting more and more pissed off. He finds himself a warlock out of Araquesh, and this warlock starts messing with the King, using some kind of witchcraft to make the King sick. All of the King’s wise men, they’re trying to find a cure, and when they send to Vantarmin the Duke makes like he has this warlock who can cure him. Of course, the warlock’s the one making him sick in the first place.
“The king gets suspicious of the Black Duke’s intentions in the middle of this somehow, and he winds up locking the princess in a convent.
“By the time the Black Duke gets to Utrimel, the king’s so sick he can’t even get out of bed, then the warlock shows up with his ‘cure’. When the king wakes up he’s a changed man. Before he got sick he was fair and just and all that. After the warlock sees him he’s healthy, but he’s mean and ruthless. He gives up a bunch of land to Vantarmin and he puts the Black Duke in charge of just about everything, essentially ruling Tolrissa in his name.
“They put some really bad taxes on all the people, they set up gallows all over the place, and they’re torturing and killing left and right, and it’s all the Black Duke, acting in the King’s name. Whenever one of the other families objects, they hang all the men and sell the women off to the Hulmini. It’s a real mess.”
“Like they do in Dunwater.” Haim observed.
“Like they do in Dunwater.” Faithborn agreed while the Bishop shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Although you probably shouldn’t say such things out loud. Anyway, this leads to rebellion in Utilerial, with the Uta horsemen fighting battles against the king’s troops, and there’s war and hunger and the typical mess you see in a country that’s not being ruled right.
“All this time Teriella is hiding out in this convent, and the Duke can’t get at her. At the same time Faramon is going crazy, because he can’t get at her either, and she’s going crazy with wanting him. Faramon’s figured out that the King isn’t right in his head, and he’s keeping his ship out of Utrimel, because he knows if the Black Duke gets him, he’s dead.
“But he liked the king, so one night he sneaks into Utrimel and sneaks into the palace to talk to the King. Well, the king’s under the Black Duke’s control, so he wakes up and hollers for his guard and Faramon has to run for it. He hides out with some people in the city until he can get away to his ship. The Black Duke tries to catch him, but the troops he send dilly dally on the way, likely on purpose, and Faramon escapes.
“So Faramon winds up joining up with the Utilerian horsemen, and he’s going to war against his own king, spying on him from his ship and the like. He winds up with a price on his head.
“The duke gets together with the headmistress of the convent holding Teriella and gets the place dissolved, with all the girls there to be moved to another convent in Utrimel. Faramon finds out about this and knows what the duke is up to, so he figures to rescue her. Unfortunately, he can’t get there in time and the duke picks her up. Faramon winds up joining up with some rebels there so he can be close to her, and see if he can figure out a way to get her free.
“They find out where Teriella is being held or moved or whatever, and Faramon sneaks in there and carries her off, but not before every royal guardsman within thirty leagues is alerted and chasing after them. He winds up dressing her up like a man and they sneak into the city of Telderin, and they hide out for a year or two, while the Black Duke is running the country into the ground and hunting after them the whole time. He gets pissed off and announces a wedding between himself and Teriella, although a penny will get you a gilder she’s already married Faramon, if you know what I mean. Anyway, he offers five hundred gilders to whoever can find her, which of course brings out every bounty hunter and crook in the kingdom. Five hundred gilders will buy you a barony.”
“A Lordship, anyway.” Aelfric interjected. “Probably not a Barony.”
“Long and short, they catch her, but Faramon gets away, after killing a bunch of king’s men, for he’s a fighter.
“The duke sets a date for the wedding, because if he marries Teriella he’s the king of Tolrissa, which is what he figures should have happened all along. Faramon vows that he’s going to stop it, and he sneaks back into Utrimel with some Araqueshi, pretending to be one of their guards, with a veil on his face like they wear.
“So here’s this wedding taking place, and it’s a mess. The Black Duke’s in armor and all the nobles are seeing that Teriella doesn’t want to be there and the king is doing whatever the Black Duke says, and the guards are making everyone participate, even though they don’t want to.
“The Black Duke says all the vows, and his pet priest sanctifies it, and he’s sitting right there in the Temple of Lio grabbing out for her like he’s going to consummate the marriage right there. Faramon goes nuts and he takes off his disguis
e, and goes after the Black Duke. Well, the warlock gets in the way somehow, and Faramon winds up taking off his head instead of the duke’s head, which is all to the good, because the king wakes up, but before the king can say anything the Black Duke and his men grab him and make off with him. Faramon grabs Teriella and they also break out of the wedding, and there are men killing each other and all kinds of fun right there in holy of holies.
“Faramon and Teriella get away, but not very far, on account of the duke’s men are chasing them all over the city. They wind up running into a watch tower down at the harbor, and the duke leaves the king alone, which winds up being a big mistake, and goes down after them, joining up with a bunch of Vantarmin men surrounding this tower. He hollers up at Faramon to give him back his wife, and if he doesn’t he’s going to fire the tower and cook them both.
“The king’s men who are there get mad at this and there’s a battle between them and the Vantarmini, who wind up wrapped around the tower with the Black Duke, and more and more royals coming from all over, making it a siege within a siege, but the Vantarmini are tough fighters, and they wind up winning control over the harbor.
“Meanwhile the king, he comes to himself, and the first thing he asks for is Duke Arouth’s head, so pretty soon the whole town has turned out to go down to the harbor and slaughter the damned Vantarmini and kill the Black Duke. The Black Duke has gone completely nuts by now, and he puts a shield wall together and lights up the bottom of the tower. So the king’s men show up, but it’s too late to save the folks in the tower. They wind up killing all the Vantarmini, and the king runs up and himself knocks the head off of the Black Duke, but they can’t stop the fire.
“Faramon and Teriella are up in the top of the tower, but it’s the seagate, right? So there’s a clean drop right into the bay. Faramon tells Teriella and his men to jump out, and one after another they’re dropping into the bay, but being a good commander, he’s the last one to go. The floor goes out underneath him and Faramon is cooked. Teriella tries to drown herself when she sees that he’s done for, but they pull her out…”
War of the Misread Augury: Book One of the Black Griffin Rising Trilogy Page 55
