by Candy Rae
Robain’s family might be one of the wealthiest on Hallam but that would not excuse them from the tribute.
The pirates had been coming to Hallam every second summer for generations. In the early years their visits had been violent and they had taken every able bodied person they could get their hands on to sell in the slave markets of the Kingdom of Murdoch. One year they had been met by the High Priest with a proposition, that the islanders would levy tribute in return for peace.
The cost of this tribute was a heavy one but the High Priest had ordered that it must be so, had written it down into the Book of Laws and thus it had become a holy obligation. To disobey could mean excommunication.
As well as tribute of gold and coin, the pirate chief had demanded a certain number of young people to be part of the tribute and the High Priest had bowed his head in sorrow and acquiesced.
Robain’s brother Liam had reached tribute age last winter.
It was not unheard of for the pirates to demand more than their due either. When Robain had been eight, they had taken four of his female cousins in one fell swoop and this despite the feeble and muted protests of the clergy.
It was Liam who was to go this year and Robain’s father had decided that he would not go.
His father, realising the time was soon had ordered a night-watch be kept for the incoming galley. Robain’s little brother Ansell had come running back to the family farmhouse not a bell ago screaming that the pirates had arrived, hence the flight of Robain and Liam to the hollow inside the dugo bush.
Robain and Liam were too frightened to say a word. The bush was not far from the family farmhouse and was covered in the vicious thorny bushes. The two boys sat deep within the hideout and listened with trepidation for the sounds that would tell them that their hiding place had been discovered.
At dawn next day little Ansell arrived at the bushes to tell them that the pirates were gone. He was crying.
Robain and Liam’s father had not been the only one who had tried to stop his children from being taken as tribute. No one on Hallam or any other island would attempt to save their children again.
As usual the Priests had handed over to the leader of the pirates the list of the children who were of age. Of the seventeen on the list only eight had appeared.
Through his tears, Ansel told them that the Captain had been angry. He had demanded that all the inhabitants of the island should be gathered in the village square at noon bell and his men had made sure that every last one of the islanders did, even old Granny Beaton who could not walk and had been carried by her two nephews. When the group of pirates had approached their farmhouse their mother had told Ansell to flee and the little boy had done so, hiding in the big water vat at the end of the stable-yard.
He had heard shouts. He had heard them being taken away, his father complaining in a querulous voice. Ansel had remained inside the vat, scared, alone, soaking wet and cold. It had grown dark and Mother had not come. When dawn had broken he had decided to climb out and find out what had happened.
“There is nobody there,” he sobbed into Robain’s comforting arms. “The animals are needin’ milked. Mother and Father are not anywhere.”
“Did you come here straight?” asked Robain with a worried glance at Liam.
Ansell nodded. “Yep, no one saw me I promise. It’s strange Robain, I never seen no one around afore.”
Robain ordered Liam and Ansell into the safety of the dugo bush and set forth to find out what had happened.
His worst fears were realised soon after he had left them. The farm was as Ansell had said, empty but for the animals. The family dog was lying stiff and cold in the front room of the farmhouse, run through, dark blood in a puddle on the ground by her throat.
The only inhabitants remaining alive on Hallam apart from him, Liam and Ansell were three children whose parents had hidden them much as his parents had and the three families who lived on the rocky hills on the northern tip of the island furthest from the village.
The ‘religious’ were all dead, including their young acolytes of which his next youngest brother was one. The bodies of the old and infirm he located where they had been killed, in the village square. Amongst them was his father. In the village hall he found the mangled, bloody bodies of the littlest children and the babies - the pirates never took the very young.
As his brain registered this final horrifying sight Robain was sick and retched until his stomach was empty and more than empty. Once he had stopped retching he fell to his knees in prayer.
Robain made three vows that morning. First he promised to look after Liam and Ansell, then he vowed to find the rest of his family and to rescue them. Finally he assured the Goddess that he would never forget her but that he was going to leave her island for a while to learn how to fight.
“I know that to fight goes against all the laws in Holy Writ,” he sobbed, “but I will. I must.”
* * * * *
AL597 - Tala
By their sixth birthday, the triplets’ characters had become as different as their looks.
Hilla was the adventurous one, the strongest and she was the one who led the more timid Rilla into all sorts of trouble and scrapes. Rilla was always trying to emulate her but never quite succeeding except in one area. Rilla was the best rider of the three. She loved horses. Hilla was technically as good a rider as Rilla but regarded a horse more as a means of transport than a creature to be loved and cared for. Zilla was the quietest, the sensible one, she did not enjoy adventures, being content to stay at home and play with her dolls. She was the one who Rilla found tying pink and yellow ribbons through their pony’s mane. She had leapt at her sister in childish anger at what she saw as a degradation of the little animal. Hilla had stood, watched and laughed long and loud.
On their birthday, their older siblings, Zak, Zala and Tala clubbed together to buy their presents - a new doll apiece. Hilla immediately used hers as target practice for her toy bow and arrow, Rilla ignored hers. Zilla took Rilla’s over and rescued the much maligned Hilla’s.
AL597 was a momentous year for Innkeeper Talan’s family. Zala, twin of Zak was sixteen and looking forward to her marriage to the eldest son of a wealthy merchant from Stewarton, the largest town on Argyll and the Seat of Government. Matt Urquhart had stayed at the Inn during the previous summer and had been captivated by Zala. He had spoken to Talan the very next morning. Talan had been delighted his eldest daughter had caught such a rich man and had upped his expectations for his next oldest daughter, Tala.
She had other ideas. Her heart was set on an apprenticeship and not with one of the more commonplace guilds either. She wished to train with the Technicians Guild and they only took the best.
Dunetown, where Talan’s inn was situated, was a large village and had a school. Tala attended this until she was twelve years old. Talan was proud of his clever daughter and for the last two years he had paid for Tala to attend a large school in Farquharson where she had just passed ‘The Exam’ with many distinctions and honours in mathematics. She had applied for and been offered a place by the Technicians Guild as a full apprentice. The Guild only took the best and word had arrived only a tenday ago that she had been accepted. Technician apprentices, unlike the other Guilds attended classes at the University at Stewarton and when she qualified she could hope for a lucrative position as a Technician Journeywoman. Not many girls were accepted and Talan was justifiably proud of Tala. Her sister Zala had not excelled academically and had left school with the basic Leaving Certificate the same time as her twin brother.
Tala and Zala would be leaving for Stewarton within the month, Zala to join her new family to learn what her future mother-in-law termed housewifery skills as the future mistress of the family’s large merchant establishment, Tala to begin her chosen career.
At six, the triplets were only aware that their two elder sisters were leaving. Hilla and Rilla were not troubled overmuch by the thought. Zilla however, was not at all happy about the bre
ak up of the family circle.
* * * * *
AL599 - Elliot
Prince-Heir Elliot of the Kingdom of Murdoch was nine years old; it was at this age that the Boy Companions who would share his daily life were appointed.
Great was the competition amongst the noble houses to procure one of the five places, especially amongst the minor nobility with sons of suitable age.
There were fourteen boys in the running and Elliot’s father and grandfather were insisting that the five should be chosen from not just the highest echelons of the ducal houses and much to the dismay and in some cases, anger, of the Dukes of Murdoch.
“I am utterly convinced that five boys are not enough,” so the eldest Duke, Alastair of Gardiner spoke his mind. Only the King was older than Duke Alastair amongst the men sitting round the table. He turned to the King, “My Liege, more than five are eager for the chance and should be given the opportunity.”
“I will not agree to more than five,” said the Crown-Prince, “I want the best for my grandson. I had not five or seven but nine and know this far too many. I insist on a maximum of five, three would be better. I know you all want your grandsons and nephews to be chosen but it cannot be.”
He rapped the hardwood table. “We can count three of them out right away. Three are only seven years old.”
“I disagree,” grumbled Duke David Smith who had put forward the name of his son and heir and who was one of the three the Crown-Prince had dismissed. “Age should not be a barrier.”
“He is too young and small,” said Duke Pierre Cocteau whose candidate, his nephew James was exactly the right age. “I agree with our Prince.”
There were hums and haws then a consensus of nodding heads except for the Duke of Smith.
“Small and puny, like father; like son,” said the Lord Marshall to young Duke Charles Graham, referring to the Duke of Smith’s heir. Charles stifled a giggle. The young man often found it difficult to take the machinations in Conclave seriously. It immersed itself in trivia and as he sat there listening to the arguments promulgating the pros and cons of the remaining eleven he wondered what would happen if a serious emergency occurred. They would argue themselves into oblivion.
Tempers were fraying. The Primate, Archbishop Tom Brentwood tried to instil some calm into the situation but he wasn’t having much success.
The Lord Marshall made another quiet comment, murmuring that he was glad Conclave concerned itself with these domestic and dynastic issues and left the running of the Kingdom to those who knew how.
It took until dusk for the five Boy Companions to be agreed upon and the Dukes were still arguing as they left the chamber.
As the Lord Marshall followed his King out of the room he was thinking with trepidation about a future meeting when the bride of the young Elliot would be chosen. He made a mental note to make sure that all weapons, including eating knives were confiscated. The Lord Marshall was in no mind to witness a bloodbath.
The Kingdom of Murdoch had to be seen to be a united one.
Outside the borders, the Larg roamed.
* * * * *
AL600 - Isobel
Four little girls were enduring the bumpiest carriage ride of their lives.
Their destination was a large brownstone building which was even now looming out of the gloomy evening dusk. The building was the mother house of the Order of the Grey Nuns, a teaching order and where the four would live for the next few years to complete their education. This was not the most popular option amongst the nobility and gentry of Murdoch. Most girls stayed at home and were taught by their mothers and aunts and occasionally a governess. The Order taught more, turning out young ladies well versed in the attributes deemed necessary for all noble ladies and to an educational standard far in excess. At fourteen they would either remain at the convent to become postulants or would return home to prepare for marriage.
The oldest of them was one Margravessa Annette van Buren, twelve years old and the eldest daughter of a Count Ernest van Buren. The other three came from cadet branches of the ducal house of Cocteau.
Jessica was the elder of these three, a few months younger than Annette, the young daughter of Count Mark Cocteau. The remaining two were the daughters of his younger brother James, Estelle, nine and Isobel, eight. The three Cocteau girls were all motherless; Jessica’s mother having died some months before and Estelle and Isobel’s when the latter was born.
The carriage came to a halt; the outrider dismounted and rang the bell. The four got ready to climb down from the carriage.
“It looks a bit grim,” said Jessica.
“Not as grim as the outside of the Thibaltine Convent,” Annette disagreed, “I’ve been in mortal terror of being sent there. This will be far more the thing.”
“I didn’t think the Thibaltines had a schoolroom,” said Estelle.
“That’s the point,” said Annette. “That’s an enclosed order; you just enter and that’s it - for the rest of your life.”
“I wouldn’t have liked that,” agreed Jessica, “the Grey Nuns have far more freedom. They can leave the convent to attend marriages and funerals. We’ll have some fun here, never fear. I’ve met Sister Earcongota. She came with Reverend Mother Breguswid to arrange our entrance. You’ll like her.”
The door creaked open and a dim figure dressed from head to foot in pale grey emerged.
“Welcome girls,” said Sister Earcongota with a smile. “Enter and embrace the peace of our house.”
* * * * *
AL600 - Julia
Jilmis, Weaponsmaster of the Vada, entered the empty office.
The Susa of the Vada was dead and it was time for the Ryzckas and the Vadryzkas to choose the successors.
Disal had died that morning of the wasting disease. His Lind Ranlya was grieving beside his empty bed in a back room. Not for her the choice to follow her life mate; not yet awhile. She had young to bring up and death-wish was not an option, at least until they were grown and off her paws.
When a Susa vadeln-pair either announced their retrial or as in this case, died (the position of Susa of the Vada was a joint-command of vadeln-paired Human and Lind), long standing protocols came into effect.
The Weaponsmaster and his Lind assumed temporary command and organised the election. The Weaponsmaster and his Lind did not have an elective vote.
The Ryzckas of the fifty one Ryzcks voted and also their troop commanders, the Vadryzkas did. The other members of the Vada with voting rights were those stationed at the Vada Stronghold itself - the Ryzcka and Vadryzka trainers of the Vada Cadets.
There would be two hundred and sixty-four voting duos.
This was not such a great undertaking (although those who did not understand Lind abilities might think it a mammoth task) even though the Ryzcks were strung out in their duty areas along the coasts and mountains of Argyll and Vadath. The telepathic Lind would ‘send’ the names of the Ryzcka pair of their choice to Weaponsmaster Jilmis’s Lind Alshya. Jilmis would then count up the votes and impart the result via the telepathic net to all the vadeln-pairs who made up the Vada. In the event of a tie, the Weaponsmaster and his Lind had the casting vote. This had only happened once before.
Jilmis and Alshya entered the Susa’s quarters and made their way to what had been Susa Disal’s desk. Jilmis extracted the Vada roll-book from the top drawer and began reading out the names of each Ryzcka pair in turn, waiting until Alshya reported that the message asking for the vote had been sent and received before moving on to the next.
As Jilmis knew, some of the Ryzcks were patrolling in remote and mountainous regions and it was notoriously difficult to mind-send to these areas. Alshya however was a powerful sender. Even so, by the time she had informed all the Ryzcks she was exhausted. Telepathic sendings took a great deal of energy, concentration and effort.
With a sympathetic smile at his life-mate, Jilmis stretched out a long arm and detached a fresh sheet of paper from the bundle on top of Disal’s desk and beg
an to copy the names of every one of the vadeln-pairs who were eligible to vote from the roll-book.
The votes would begin to come in tomorrow.
Jilmis would remain in command until the new Susa’s arrival at the Stronghold. He made a mental note to assign a vadeln-pair to take temporary command of the successful Ryzcka’s Ryzck. This was usually one of the Ryzckas who had recently retired from active duty but perfectly able to reassume the responsibility. Jilmis knew just the duo.
Hansel and Inya were still at the stronghold after handing over command of the Eighteenth Ryzck the tenday but one before Disal’s death. In fact, the appointment of the new Ryzcka of the Eighteenth had been Disal’s final decision before his illness had incapacitated him.
List complete, Jilmis stood and entered the private inner rooms of the Susa. A dull-eyed Ranlya sat there waiting for him.
“It is done?” she asked.
“Yes,” answered Jilmis. “How are you coping?”
“I miss him,” said Ranlya, “I will always miss him. He was my life and I was his.”
“I know my dear Ranlya and have you decided?”
“What will I do? Where to go? I go back to my rtathlians with the ltsctas. Lvei will go with me.”
Jilmis nodded. Lvei was Ranlya’s mate, an unpaired Lind from rtath Danei in northern Vadath.
“We will miss you.”
Ranlya lifted sad eyes to the Weaponsmaster. “It is for the best. Many memories of Disal here.”
“Will you?”
Ranlya nodded. “When the ltsctas are grown I will go to Disal as is right and proper, until then I cannot.”
“When do you leave us?”
“Tonight.”
