Chapter 19
The recapture of Corridane from the
control of the Naibern forces had been grueling, and heart-wrenching. Valun and
his two friends had taken those men who could come with them, including large
numbers of Naiberns newly willing to call themselves Corridanes and fight for
the Hightower, all over the country, attacking all the Naiberns who could be
found. Across the south, up through the middle land and back across the north
they marched. They met many enemies, but never a force large enough in one
place to do them serious damage.
One day, about a month into the campaign,
as the troops rested outside a northern village which had just been retaken
from the invaders, Valun called Richard and Conan to his side.
“My friends,” he said “We have crossed
and re-crossed the country, and vanquished all we found. It is time now that I
should enter my capital again, and I want you both at my side, to recognize the
part you have played in this victory.”
Richard, who was always ready to speak
before Conan, answered almost immediately. “My lord, I understand that you wish
to give us great honor in doing this, but I must beg leave to be excused until
I am ready to enter the capital as the lord of Longfurrow. This will not be
until I have seen my land and my home again. I have fought by your side as long
as there was fighting to be done. Grant now that I may leave to see my home,
now at my first chance.”
Conan, standing beside Richard, then
spoke. “Sire, I will not repeat Richard’s speech, for he has said what I would
have said had I spoken first.”
Valun was moved by his friends’ words.
In truth, being caught up in the campaign to retake the homeland, he had lost
sight of the fact that neither of them had actually had time to visit his own
ancestral land again. He rose from his chair and held out his hand to each in
turn. “Forgive me, my friends. I had truly forgotten that your paths home do
not follow mine. Go, both of you, with all speed, and come to me in the capital
only when you are ready.”
Each grasping the king’s wrist in turn,
Richard and Conan both replied “Thank you, we will come to see you crowned
before the week is out.” Saluting, they left the king’s shelter together.
Valun followed them out but did not
attempt to walk in step with them. Instead he simply stood and watched as each
took a horse, and with a wave of farewell as they turned in his direction, rode
off in the separate direction which would take them to their ancestral lands.
Once his two friends had departed, Valun called to a servant, saying “Tell the
captains of the men I wish to ride to the capital as soon as the army can be
ready.”
The man walked off to deliver the
message, and Valun turned back toward the small house he had been using as a
headquarters instead of a tent. The house was not in the best condition, but in
that it was similar to many places Valun had passed throughout the campaign.
The country in general had taken on a dilapidated appearance, and many of the
towns had been less fully inhabited than appeared right to the king. It was so
with the people also. Valun hoped that the fighting men had escaped to the
cities or the wilderness, and would now begin to reappear since he had finally
reappeared himself, for there were a precious few men of fighting age in the
towns. There had been numerous boys and old men aplenty, but few left of the
right age to be the sons of the elders. In fact, the house he was using was an
example of this. It was kept by an old couple who said their son had left years
ago, saying something about fighting back. He had not returned, and now they
did the best they could in their little space for themselves and their son’s
wife and their little granddaughter, who were all they had in the world now.
Having heard this story almost the
moment he entered the house, Valun had promptly gifted them several gold
pieces, which caused them to call down blessings upon him with every second
sentence they spoke. Valun had not been expecting such profuse thanks, and had
become so nervous that he only remembered at the last instant that he could not
refuse to join them at their table. Recalling this, he allowed himself a grin
of self-deprecation. A fine example that would have made.
The owners of the house had been working
in their small garden while Valun spoke with his friends, but they had come
back inside by the time Valun passed the threshold again himself. He wasted no
time taking his leave.
“I am leaving now, but I wish you all
the peace and happiness you deserve, which is much, if I have seen anything of
the country. Farewell.”
The commoners did not speak to him. They
only stood together on the threshold and watched as he walked away toward the
camp, from which the servant was coming back to him with news that the men
would prepare with all speed.
*****
As the campaign had ended in the northern part of the
country, Conan had the shorter of the two journeys from the village in which
Valun was now breaking camp. Even so, he had had to pass one night in the open,
and then ride on throughout the morning before he reached the land he
recognized as being attached directly to his family manor. Along with prodigious
strength, Conan’s other great asset was his nearly perfect memory, which he had
displayed several times during the campaign to drive out the occupiers, when
his friends had been confused by the change of scene. Thus his memories allowed
him to know that he was home, even without the benefit of anything marking the
boundary.
However, memory is no true replacement for reality, and so he
discovered, as he rode farther within the borders of his first homeland, that
it did nothing to lessen the pain he felt at what he saw, or more precisely did
not see, when he arrived at the spot where his father’s house had once stood.
Nothing was left of Trondale hall, the great house that had
been built by his grandfather as a young man. Not a beam or a stone was visible
anywhere. Green grass covered the whole expanse. Choking back a cry, Conan
dismounted so quickly he nearly fell from the horse. Hurrying to the spot where
memories told him the great door had stood, he tore at the grass, desperate to
find any remnant of the home he had been raised in.
When his fingers had nearly disappeared into the earth, Conan
felt them strike against something that was more than soft earth. Exploring
carefully along its edge and steadily working it free, he found when he brought
it to light that he had uncovered an old sword, its blade broken off to a
jagged edge about halfway up its length. After a pause of but a moment, he
realized what he probably held, and sticking the blade straight back down into
the earth, he rested his head upon it as he remained on one knee where he had
stopped.
Speaking in haunted tones to the grass beneath, he said “They
came. They came here, and my father is dead.” Before he had time to rise from
his position, a shadow fell over him and a new voice spoke.
“Leave our land, desecrator, or I swear I shall kill you as
you are. That you have in your hand I will take.”
Conan did not stop to listen to this ultimatum. Rising in a
moment, he spun around, swinging the broken sword as if it were the axe he was
wont to carry. The blow would surely have struck the girl dead if she had not
in the same moment struck out with a long knife, the meeting of which sent such
a shock through Conan’s wrists that his ancient weapon was sent spinning away,
to land a yard or more to the left of Conan and his antagonist.
Empty-handed, Conan stared in disbelief at the young woman
standing before him, as she held her long knife ready to threaten him again.
Her long auburn hair moved freely, and her dress was that of a common maid. In the
tone of one prepared to force obedience, she said “Now, leave this place. There
is no room for your kind here.”
In a voice that belied the tension between the two, Conan
replied “No room for my kind? And who are my kind to you, sister?”
Still holding the point of her blade out toward Conan, the
girl answered “You dare call me sister? Those vile southerners who have overrun
this place like rats in a cellar. Those are your people, and you be quick to
join them. I’ve heard word that our king has come again and your people
defeated. Go on. Get off our land. Your path lies that way.” She concluded,
pointing with her free arm in the direction Conan had indeed come from.
Noticing that his horse had begun to stray, Conan replied in
a sterner tone. “Listen to me, Anne! Did not our parents ever tell you that
your brother Conan was sent away so that he might survive and avenge what has
happened? I am Conan! Your brother that you lost! And if the truth of my words
and my knowledge are not enough to you, ask me, ask me now, what sign did Conan
carve into the doorframe before he left? If our mother has ever reminded you of
me, she told you that, that only Conan would know that. Ask me, please.”
In the course of Conan’s speech, Anne, for it was indeed her,
on whose ninth birthday Conan had ridden away, and who was now fully nineteen
years of age, finally relaxed enough to sheathe her blade and stand silently as
Conan spoke. When he had finished, she took her turn, speaking with civility
she had not yet shown. “You have your wish, sir. What was this sign you speak
of?”
“The sign was this. I carved the first letter of my own name
into the wood of the doorframe. I had not the time or space for more. I would
prove it to you, but you see what has become of our house.”
This brought tears to Anne’s eyes, as she leapt forward to
embrace him, exclaiming “Oh Conan, It’s you after all. That was the answer my
mother wanted. She said no man but Conan would have answered the question. I am
so glad you’ve returned! Mother and the children too. We’ve been so worried for
you.”
She said all this while leaning against Conan and embracing
him tightly. Conan, who prided himself on his ability to conceal his feelings
and did not like such intimacy, returned the gesture gingerly. A moment after
she stopped speaking, Anne broke away from Conan and went to retrieve the
broken blade he had brought out of the ground. Picking it up, she brought it to
him and offered it back. “I suppose you have a right to this after all,
brother, for if it is not our father’s own blade than it is the spoils of
battle.” Finally noticing the broad-bladed axe that hung from his belt, she
added “But I see you don’t use a sword anyway. Thank the One you didn’t draw
that thing, or you would have killed your own sister.”
Conan took the old blade and they walked off together to
retrieve Conan’s horse. When they had reached it, Anne pulled herself aboard in
a moment, before Conan was able to offer his aid. As she rode off, she called
to him. “Come now, we must look after the goat and the sheep. Then we may see
the others.”
Conan dutifully followed on foot as Anne directed the horse
toward the southern side of the land and disappeared below a rise. When he had
reached the place where she had stopped, he found her patiently herding one
goat and four sheep into a group with a stick she seemed to have picked up from
the ground. As he approached, she remarked “This is all of them, and they are
all together now. We have had more, but when they began to go missing, we could
do nothing about it. Help me get them to their shelter over yonder.” As she
pointed with the stick, Conan saw that, some distance closer to the coast, a
small hut had been erected, which for some reason was roofed with grass.
Picking up a stick of his own and grasping the reins of his
horse, Conan followed his sister’s practiced lead, and the whole group of
people and livestock crossed the distance to the shelter in minutes. When the
smaller animals had been locked up, Anne remounted the horse and announced “Now
we can return to mother and the others. We may even meet them on our way, since
I have been away longer than it usually takes me to gather our little herd.” By
this time she had started the horse and they were moving back the way they had
come at an easy walk. “We shall have to leave your horse up here, though. We
live at the bottom of the cliffs now, and the steps are too steep for any
animal.”
Accordingly, when Anne said they had reached the steps, they
tied the horse to the nearest tree and proceeded to make their way down the
steps which had been cut into the cliffs long ago so that those who lived on
the land above might be able to enjoy the water below. Conan was about halfway
down before he caught sight of a small house that had been built just where the
firm ground began. Smoke was emanating from the hole in the roof and there was
a small garden visible on the landward side of the building, in which two young
boys could be seen working.
A short time later, Conan and Anne had reached flat ground and
Conan heard his sister calling to the boys.
“Eric! John! Come here. Your brother Conan has returned. Keep
him out here a moment while I go in to mother.”
The two boys dropped their tools with unbecoming speed, and
came to the summons at a pace just short of a run. Conan could hear them
voicing several thoughts in rapid succession. “Well Anne, now you’ve come back
since the work’s nearly done…”
“Our brother, really? That man is?”
“Well he must be, musn’t he? She wouldn’t be happy to bring
him down here if he wasn’t.”
“Really? Conan? The one mother said father sent off to have
adventures? I wish I could have gone too. Then everyone would be so glad to see
me that they’d forget about the kettle and the goat.”
Anne had apparently heard this last remark clearly as she
walked off toward the little house. With a joyous laugh, she called back “No,
Eric, I don’t think we would, even were you to return the hero of a hundred
battles.” With this she entered the house and Conan was left outside with his
two brothers, who, when he left home, had not yet been able to walk.
Having lost his chance to bond and grow with his brothers,
and having seen almost no one younger than himself in his whole time in
Ronaiera, Conan found himself ill at ease standing alone with the young boys
and not willing to speak. Fortunately, they broke the silence for him. One of
them, he guessed it was Eric, soon noticed his chosen weapon.
“Can you really use this? It looks awfully big.”
Drawing the axe. Conan stepped back, demonstrated a few
strokes, and slotted the thing home again. Then he said “Yes, I can. I find
that it suits me. Like everything else, you must work at it or the skill will
fail you when you need it.”
“Have you been in battles?”
“Many. I have been fighting at the king’s side all over the
country. But I will speak no more of that. Come, show me what your work is.”
“Alright” one of the boys replied while staring at Conan’s
axe. “But we are nearly done for today.”
“All the better. Just tell me when I have done enough.” Conan
strode off toward the garden, as the two boys trailed behind him, marveling at
this new revelation.
“Do you believe that, John? He actually likes to work!”
“Let’s watch and see how long he manages. If he likes work, I
bet he would chop down a whole forest with that axe if no one told him to stop
first.”
Conan let these statements hang. Crossing into the garden, he
took up a hoe in each hand, and using them sometimes singly, and sometimes both
at once, he had gone over the whole area properly in only a few minutes. By the
time he was done, Anne had come out again and called to all of them to come in.
Leaning the tools against the wall of the house, Conan
followed after the others, allowing them to cross the threshold first, while he
stopped there for a moment to study the picture. His mother Evelyn was seated
on a simple wooden chair, tending the pot of stew that was set under the hole
in the roof. Between the fire and the door there was a utilitarian table with a
handful of equally simple chairs surrounding it. On the far side of the
building, on either side of the hearth, there were what appeared to be curtains
hanging across other doorways. Taken altogether, it was a basic peasant’s home.
With a start, Conan realized that he had been standing on the
threshold longer than was proper even for a guest. What brought him back to his
senses was the sound of his mother’s voice and the sight of her rising from her
seat to greet him.
“My boy! Anne said you had returned, but I was afraid to
believe it true after so many years had passed without you. Come, we will talk
outside.”
Moments later, Conan and his mother were walking side by side
on the tideline, moving farther away from the little house with each step. Each
held their silence for a time, and then Evelyn said “Do you remember, Conan,
the day you left home? When you came and told me your father had sent you away,
I said I expected to hear the whole story when you returned. Now is the time,
my son. Do not lie.”
By this time they had come to an outcrop of large rocks
situated about fifty yards beyond the house. Conan seated himself on one,
facing out to the sea, while Evelyn took a seat on his left.
“It is a hard story, mother. Are you sure you want it all?”
“My son, I too have lived through a hard story. I do not need
to ask if you would hear it all, for I know that you would. ”
“Very well, mother, you shall hear the whole truth, and
nothing but that.” With this introduction, Conan began a retelling in his own
way of everything which had happened to him during his time away from home,
including a concise account of the whole campaign to retake the country by
force.
But ten years could not pass in one hour, and so he still had
much more to tell when he was interrupted by the arrival of John, who had come
to bring them back for the evening meal. Whispering between themselves, Conan
and his mother agreed to continue the tale the next day, as painful as it was
to both of them. Conan entered the house determined not to show his siblings
any sight of the pain he had just been reliving.
As they sat around the table taking that day’s soup, Evelyn
spoke again to Conan. “Anne said you dug up an old blade near where our house
stood. Show it to me.”
Conan, who had till now been carrying the thing stuck into
the side of his belt opposite his axe, dutifully brought it out, passing it
over the table hilt-foremost. Evelyn looked intently at it for a few moment but
then announced in a tone of disappointment “I cannot say whether this is your
father’s blade or not. But keep it as if it were. We shall have it made whole
and keep it till it shall be borne by one of you boys. That much my Eric
deserves.” None of her four children made any answer to this statement, but
they all finished their meal in a more subdued manner, seeing that their mother
was thinking of memories that were not pleasant.
The next day passed much the same as the previous one, except
that Conan spent much more time walking with his mother as they related to each
the stories of their last ten years. This time, they climbed the cliff steps
and walked in the green grass and trees. After much had been said on either
side, Evelyn suddenly drew Conan aside and asked him to stand where he had
recovered the broken blade. As he stood over the spot she spoke again.
“I have never told the children, for it is best they do not
think of what really happened. Your father did not die here, Conan. As I
watched from hiding he held off six men until he lost his sword. Then they took
him away bound, and I never saw him again. Do not leave me again, my son.”
“I wish I could promise that, mother,
but I cannot. I have been called to the capital. I wish you and the others to
come. It will be a triumph for all of us.”
“But we have no way of leaving here.
There is only your own horse between us all.”
“I will ride ahead, and send back for
you. You shall all be present at the king’s coronation, even if I have to beg
him to delay it, for I think that was what my father fought and died for.”
“As you wish, my son. For such an
occasion there is no delaying. Leave today.”
*****
Richard rode for two full days before
he came in sight of his ancestral manor. Having passed the farthest borders of
his land sometime in the afternoon, he was able to see his manor on the horizon
by early evening and actually reached the grounds only shortly before twilight.
His first action, even before studying the state of the manor house, was to
lead his horse to the pond he had enjoyed as a boy and leave it hobbled there.
This done, he turned back to the house.
The house had clearly been put to the
torch some years ago. What parts had remained standing were covered with moss
and ivy. As Richard crossed what passed for the threshold, he saw that a
considerable amount of debris had fallen into the great hall. Stepping
carefully through it, he made his way to the dais of the high table, and once
there, began to speak to the air.
“I wanted to stay, so much. To do
anything I could to stop this. But you said I had to ride away. I would always
do as you wished, but I return at last to this? This is too much to bear,
father.” Then suddenly he began to sing quietly, as if trying in the moment to
compose a ballad for the event.
“In the house of Longfurrow there was
joy and bright light…A man who would rise for the good of all…The call came at
last at the sight of a foe in the night, and the lord Roland rose to the
greatest of falls…” He stopped suddenly as he heard a sudden noise from outside
the room. Drawing his sword, he called out “Who enters my hall? Declare
yourself or defend your life!”
The voice of a boy not yet fully grown
answered in equally antagonistic tones. “It should be, who enters my hall, for I am the lord of Longfurrow
now and I will fight any man who says otherwise!” This challenge was the
introduction for a boy who could have easily been mistaken for any street liver
of the cities. His hair was long and unkempt, his clothes ill-fitting and
patched in all sorts of places, and his feet bare. But for all that, he
advanced on Richard as if he meant to fight with the long knife he held in his
left hand.
Richard held his sword out toward the
boy point foremost. Watching for a sudden move, he cried “I command you to
stop! This is my house. Burnt or no I’ll have no street boys taking it from me.
Go back where you came from and leave my grief to me.”
The boy stopped. “Who are you to say this
grieves you? What can you know of it? My house is burnt and my family slain. I
have one brother alive, so far as I know, even though it has been ten years
since he walked in this hall. I ask you once more before I slay you. What is
your name?”
“My name is Richard Longfurrow, eldest
son of Roland and Lana. Does that answer your challenge, boy?!”
“You know his name, and those of our
father and mother. That does not prove to me that my brother Richard stands
before me. Tell me something no stranger would learn from him!”
“As you wish. William was left-handed
and Marie played the harp. Very well. I am missing it already.”
“I believe you now. Those are things
Richard would not have told a man when he entered a room. I suppose I must
welcome you back, brother.”
Richard finally sheathed his sword
again, as if he had just remembered that it was drawn. “Well, that is a fine
welcome from a boy who said he was going to kill me before asking who I was. You must tell me what you remember of how
you came to be the only survivor.” Finding he needed rest, Richard seated
himself on the top step of the dusty and cracked dais. James, the only other
survivor of the family, took a spot beside him. They both looked silently out
through the ruined gateway before James spoke.
“After you left, life was much the same,
except that father rode away often and did not tell us children why. Then in
the third year he told us that he meant to fight the invaders. He had been
trying since you left to get the support of his vassals and family. Not all of
them would do it, but in the third year most agreed that something had to be
done. Father invited all those who would go with him to a feast here in this
hall two days before they went off to battle, Mother told me the hall had never
been so full, bright, and merry since she married father, when our grandfathers
both invited all their greatest friends and vassals. They sang all the songs of
the old heroes, louder as the night went on. It seemed to me they drank half
the cellar and ate most of the larder. Dawn broke only two hours after they had
stopped. None could return home as they were. A hundred fell asleep at the
tables and were still there at dawn. Those who could stand slept on the grass. Mother
and I and the others poured what seemed half the pond on those who were at
table in the morning. Tiring as it was, I wish more had made it back so that we
might have to do it all again.”
Richard’s vision began to blur as he
imagined the scene James had described. “I wish more than ever now that I had
been there, Perhaps I could have added to it myself. I am a great minstrel,
now.”
“Well then make a song about our story.
A real one, not some ditty like the one you tried to tie together just before I
found you.”
“Go on, tell me the rest. I know it must
be hard for you, but I have waited long enough to know the truth.”
“As I said, father waited through one
more day, and on the second day after the great feast he rode away prepared for
battle, taking many of the household men-at-arms, yet leaving some to guard us.
That was the last we saw of him. Some days later a few of the soldiers
returned. Most of them were injured, but they had marched through the night so
that we might hear their news. They said all was lost. The enemy’s numbers had
been more than was hoped, and our father and many others had been taken
prisoner, as they fought to the last. Those few men stayed and joined our
guards and Saul prepared for battle as the man of the house. They came the next
day. We could see them from two miles off. There were thirty of them and they
carried torches. Saul led the men in defense out there on the lawn we see from
here. The men held them off for some time, and at one time it looked as if our
men might win and save the manor. But there were too many and they did get
their torches onto the roof. There was nothing for it but to run or be burned
alive. The others went together in one direction, and, losing my head for a
moment, I ran another. It saved my life, or else the Naiberns did not how many of
us there were, for by mere chance I was not discovered. I did not dare move
from my place for hours after the Naiberns had left. When I finally moved, I
went first to see if any of the others had survived. I found them all together,
left where they had fallen slain. I do not know how long I stayed there and
wept for them. The next day a few more survivors from the battle arrived. They
buried the others for me and took me to the nearest manor, where I lived until
this year came on. In my time there I learned hunting and trapping so that I
could live at home once more. In secret the men of the place repaired one room
for my use. Since then I have lived here alone but for visits from servants of
that manor. When you arrived, I was sitting among the graves as I often do. And
that, my brother, is the full tale of the fall of our house.”
“Sad as it is, it is worthy of a song,
and it will have one, James. Take me to the graves.”
They both rose and walked off together
through the doorway James had entered by. Even knowing that it had been burnt,
Richard was dismayed by the extent of the destruction. A whole corridor no
longer existed, and most of the rest was unusable. He followed James outside
through a space which had not been open to the weather at the time of his
leaving.
James stopped about fifty yards beyond
what remained of the manor, where a few stones which looked carefully kept
clear of grass marked the resting place of all the rest of Richard’s family
excepting Sir Roland, who had surely died an unworthy death in the vicinity of
the capital.
The names were etched in jagged,
unrefined letters on each stone, and Richard wondered as he looked at them how
hard James had worked to complete the heart-wrenching task. He kept this
comment in his own mind, however, for there was no proper way to put it to his
brother.
Richard stopped at each in turn,
dropping to one knee and bowing his head as he wept silently for each one, cut
down barbarically by men bent on senseless destruction. When he stopped before
each one, he rose again and turned to James.
“For the sake of the others, we must
stay here, raise the manor again, and live here to the end of our days. It has
cost us too much to leave. It will not be long before we can start. As I have
come back, so has the king. Soon he will take back his city and the invaders
will be driven out. Then we can start again.”
“Very well, brother, but until then what
shall we do?”
“We shall leave now and meet the king at
the capital. We shall ride by turns. Come, there is nothing keeping us here.”
At Richard’s words they left the graves
and returned to the pond, where Richard had left his horse, which had by now
had much to eat and drink and more rest. As Richard removed the hobble, James
pulled himself aboard the animal and they started off without another minute of
delay.
*****
Valun and the men who were with him
arrived at the walls of the city three days after they had started out, as the
day was nearing twilight. Valun gave the order for the men as he went before
the gates with a herald carrying his banner. Valun spoke for himself, repeating
the speech he had made before the harbor gate of Berunthia.
No answer came from the walls. Rather
than dispute his claim to his face, it seemed the people of the city had decided
to simply ignore it as if it were not worth thinking about, which was worse
than a false denial. After waiting for several minutes, Valun realized what had
been done and rode away furious at such insolence.
Ordering that companies should be sent
out to watch all the walls, and that he should be told be told straightaway if
anything happened, Valun retired to his tent to decide his next move. By the
time he emerged, night had fallen and fires had been lit in several places
throughout the camp. As he approached the nearest, two figures rose from their
positions and moved to meet him. In another moment the figures proved to be
Richard and a younger, shorter, man. Richard made the introductions.
“My lord, allow me to present my brother
James. We have only just arrived.”
“I ordered that I should be told. What
is the meaning of this?”
“My lord, let it pass this once, as a
friend. The man I asked said you had been alone for some hours and did not know
that you wished to be told. As it is, we would have arrived here alongside your
messenger. As I said, I present my
brother.” Here he nudged James, who had not spoken, conspicuously with an
elbow.
James seemed to come awake with a shock.
A moment later he answered in a tone devoid of emotion. “My lord, may I give
you joy of your restoration. I hope you are well.”
Richard nudged his brother again. “He
may be, but an answer like that shows that you are probably not. Go now and get
some sleep-if he may leave, sir?”
“By all means, let him go.”
“Thank you sir.” James took this as his
cue to wander off, presumably to claim a spot near the fire. At a pointed look
from Richard, Valun gestured that they should go inside. Once they were inside
Valun’s tent Richard spoke again.
“There is no good news for me, my lord,
save that James remains alive. My father and many of his men died on this very
field in battle or cruelly in the dungeons. My house was burnt and my family
cut down as they fled the fire. James himself said it was mere chance that he
is alive. The Longfurrow name is a shadow of what it once was.”
Valun rose from his seat and held out
his hand toward Richard. “You have got it wrong, Richard. The wealth may be a
shadow. The name and the honor, those are greater now than ever before. Do not
confuse the two. It takes a great man to go into battle for the sake of
another, and my house shall remember it forever. He shall have a monument when
we are restored.”
Richard took the king’s hand and asked
quietly “If I may go, sir?”
“Go, and good fortune be with you from
here.”
Conan arrived in the camp early the next
morning. He too spoke with the king alone, telling all that he had learned in
the past days. To this he added his desire to send for his family, a wish that
Valun granted without hesitation, saying only “Then we must find some way to
enter the city ourselves before they arrive, for the ladies will not find
anything in this camp. Nor shall your brothers, for you tell me they are still
young. What would you do?”
“My lord, I cannot say. I had never
entered the capital before the day we left it.”
Valun went silent for a few moments,
giving some thought to this problem. Then he spoke again with a laugh. “I have
it. Send for Richard and five more men. Send to the Naiberns for gear. This
will work, I am sure of it. They made no answer to my challenge. It is doubtful
they have posted a full guard.”
Conan made no answer simply exiting the
tent. The better part of an hour later, Conan, Richard, and five picked
Naiberns were assembled in Valun’s tent with him. Full armor which would fit on
Valun and Richard had not been found, so they would go as they were, covered by
long traveling cloaks. The others would all be wearing Naibern armor, however,
until the party had reached the walls, they too would be wearing cloaks, which
they would remove inside the city.
In the middle of the afternoon, Valun
led the party by a meandering path to a smaller gate in the north side of the
wall. A quick thrust jarred the bar loose and they heard it fall. After waiting
a few moments for a reaction from inside, they tried to push it open, but it
did not move. At a sign from Valun, Conan brought his strength and his axe
forward. After striking once with the blade to weaken it, he pounded the door
with the end of the axe and all his strength. Without warning, the door stood
ajar, as a second bar revealed itself, split by Conan’s assault on it. Richard
looked back at with a grin.
“Now that is a mighty feat. I would not
get it in two blows. Or perhaps I would, but I will never know.”
Valun, who felt that this was the wrong
time for joking, hissed at Richard under his breath. “We’ve no time for
laughing now, Richard. We have not yet won our throw.”
Now that they were within the walls,
Valun ordered Conan and the Naiberns to reveal themselves. “You shall take us
straight to the castle, and do not stop. You are taking prisoners to the king.”
At the receipt of these last instructions, which Valun had nearly whispered, as
if he thought someone was nearby already, the little raiding party moved off
toward the castle, which could be seen from some distance away over the roofs
of the city.
For some time there was no direct path
straight toward the castle, and Valun and his men walked warily, prepared to
meet a Naibern patrol at every turn. However, they had good fortune all through
the city; all the Naibern patrols they saw passed some distance off from them,
and none seemed to mark their passing. Finally, as they were traversing the
last few remaining streets before reaching the castle gate, a patrol came upon
them suddenly, and for a moment it seemed all was lost. In fact that might
easily have been the case if not for Valun’s brilliant stroke of having brought
with him true Naiberns wearing true Naibern insignia. The men who had promised
to follow Valun rose to the occasion, and after a minute of earnest
conversation in the language of Naibern, whilst Valun and the two Corridane
nobles watched anxiously for the approach of more soldiers, which would surely
have revealed their plan, the raiders were able to move forward again as the
patrol that had stopped them moved away on their rounds.
Having covered the last few yards, Valun
and his men stood before the gatehouse of the castle, thwarted. The gate was
closed and locked. Valun spoke for the first time since they had begun to cross
the city.
“I must confess this is something I did
not think of as we entered. It seems our enemy is more wary of us than I hoped.
How shall we pass the gate?”
As Valun observed his treacherous
gatehouse, his back turned to his friends, he heard them speak out and not help
matters at all.
“Have Conan break the door. The
wall-gate was simple enough, was it not?”
Richard! If I hear any such thing from
you again I shall break your head. Do not test me.”
Growing serious once more, Richard then
suggested “Perhaps they will open for a password.”
Hearing this, Valun answered “True
enough, but our men surely do not know it, and neither do we know that there is
anybody to answer the summons until they do answer.”
Conan then added his own sensible
suggestion. “If we were to surprise and capture a patrol, perhaps we could get
the password from them.”
Moving back toward the spot where Conan
and the others were gathered, Valun replied “Perhaps that would work, but we
have not a moment more to lose. If they had the courage to hold their tongues
we would be caught. Our men are still waiting for us beyond the walls. I fear a
rope will have to do. Richard, go back to camp with all speed and bring back
more men and all the rope you can lay hands on without delay.”
It was too late. They had remained
standing and talking in one place too long. A patrol, perhaps the same one
which had earlier let them pass, had spotted them. Where they now stood, still
outside the castle, and appearing to be loitering about waiting for something,
it was too easily evident that they meant to get inside the castle but did not
know how to do so.
Valun was the first to notice the
charging patrol. Drawing his own sword, he shouted to the others and prepared
for the joining of battle. The Naibern patrol, a party which was barely less
than Valun’s, had been charging on them silently so as to gain some measure of
surprise over their foes. Because of this, Valun and his men barely had time to
draw their weapons before the six Naiberns were upon them.
No quarter was given on either side, and
a few precious moments, time enough for a second patrol to have heard the noise
in the eerily quiet city and changed course to come running to their comrades’
aid, had passed before some of Valun’s Naiberns fell slain just as Conan and
Richard overpowered their opponents and beat them down. The count now stood at
seven, including two wounded but still standing, to four of the Naibern patrol.
And then something truly unexpected happened.
Without warning, the doors of two of the
nearest houses were flung open and several men carrying knives in their hands
ran toward the Naiberns, with no regard for their status as enemy or ally. Only
a sharp call from Valun stopped them from suddenly murdering all the Naiberns
on either side
“Men of Corridane! Put up your weapons
and do no killing here! All these men are under my protection at this moment.”
The commoners stopped short, knives
perilously close to the necks of several of those wearing the hated device, a
number which included Conan, as he was wearing Naibern gear according to
Valun’s previous order. One of them spoke, his tone betraying the eagerness
with which he and his friends had anticipated this revenge now forestalled at
the very brink of its beginning.
“What right do you have to stop us?
None, really. And give us a good reason to listen or in a moment, we’ll do you
in too. If you knew the half of what we’ve lived, you’d join us like that. So
who are you before we kill you?”
At this Richard spoke up. “Things have
gotten very bad indeed, my lord. My own brother made much the same challenge to
me before I convinced him otherwise.” Directing his words toward the commoners,
Richard asked “Do any of you recall the burning of Longfurrow?”
There was a pause. “Aye there’s myself,
and Tim over there, and Halen over there by that Naibern hulk yonder. We
remember, and weren’t we all here when they made us watch as they quartered old
sir Longfurrow in the square. And him alive through it all till the end, too.
They say he was thrown in the sea, and not even in a sack, neither.”
Although by this time Valun had long
suspected that his friends’ fathers had been put to awful deaths, he was still
shocked when he heard it told straight out. But before he could speak another
word, Conan took his own turn.
“Do you remember anything of the burning
of Trondale?”
“I do, for one, but why should you ask?
It was your lot that did the thing.”
Here Valun broke in again. “Though I am
glad that we can now put some of our grief to rest, we have no time to stand
out here. Soon another patrol shall come and we shall have to fight again.”
“Well alright” the old man replied. “But
I’ll have none of those villains in my house if I can hold them off.” He indicated
the Naiberns with a sweeping gesture.
“Very well, they shall stand guard.”
Turning to his soldiers, Valun added “Disarm the Naiberns.” At once the
Naiberns who had promised to follow Valun carried out the order, taking the
weapons of the hostile patrol. “Now you are safe. These men have sworn
themselves to me.”
A moment passed in which the commoners
seemed to be attempting to comprehend the situation. Then the spokesman
shrugged and said “Come along then, or we’ll catch our death of a patrol.”
A short time later, Valun, Richard, and
Conan were inside the nearest house in conference with the townsmen, while Valun’s
Naiberns stood guard outside, holding blades over their countrymen to deter any
calls for help. When they were all settled, Valun put his question to their
hosts.
“What we need now is a way inside the
castle. Once we get inside, we can begin to heal the people of this tragedy.
When does the gate of the castle open?”
One of the men sitting in a corner of
the room replied curtly. “The gate hasn’t opened in years now. The patrols live
in houses all over the city, and there’s none here now who can force them out.”
“That may have been so, but I have
finally returned. I have an army outside the walls. We have defeated all the
others. Only these patrols remain.”
“Then why do you not just bring your
army in and have them fight?”
“I must hold the castle first. If we do
not hold the castle, our enemies can fall back into it. We would have to
destroy it to reach them. How do we enter the castle?”
“There is no other way through that
wall. Are you daft, or are you a spy?”
“Silence! I am neither daft nor a spy, I
am the king. Having lived ten years in exile I had simply forgotten a few minor
points of knowledge. Do you have ropes?”
“No, we do not have ropes. It is a
struggle to keep food in these days.”
“Very well. Richard, as I said. Bring
back plenty of rope, and hooks. Four ought to do it. We shall wait here for
your return.”
Not
saying a word, Richard rose, saluted, and went out. Valun and the other men
were forced to spend an anxious hour waiting for him to safely cross the city,
find the ropes and grapnels, and return again. His return was not as quiet as
they had hoped it would be. As the hour since his departure passed, he came
dashing in shouting, closely followed by four Corridanes carrying the desired
ropes. All had their blades drawn, some of which were stained.
“The
door Conan broke! They have found it and the secret is out! Two patrols are
close on our heels, and they have blown horns for more. Speed is our weapon
now!” Even as he spoke, Richard was taking further action, distributing the
swords taken from the captured patrol to the common men sitting around the
room. As the approach of the Naibern patrols grew louder, Richard shouted out
the door to the friendly men standing guard. “Prove our trust! Fight for the
king!” As the seven guards hurried off to meet the patrols in battle, Richard
spoke to the Corridanes, both knights and commoners. “Stand ready to come to
their aid. They are outnumbered, but they may confuse our foes for a moment. I
will go with you. My lord, I suggest that you and Conan make haste to scale the
walls while we fight. If you do not make it across now, all shall be lost.
There is no returning if we lose here.” With a final salute, Richard led all
the Corridane fighters out into the street, leaving Valun and Conan alone with
their precious ropes. Conan immediately snatched up two of them.
“Come,
my lord! Richard has never spoken truer words. This is our hope.” With this,
the two hurried out. The sound of the fighting carried through the air from
some yards distant. Neither man made any remark on this though. When they
reached the courtyard wall moments later, Valun drew his sword and stood guard
as Conan cast both ropes in quick succession. Then, at a word from him, they
started up, one upon each, resting their feet on the wall itself as they
climbed. Suddenly, as they came within a man’s height of the top, a man
appeared and began sawing at Valun’s rope. In less time than it takes to tell,
Conan, standing horizontally against the wall, had drawn his axe and thrown it,
killing the guard. Without a pause, he began to climb even faster.
Valun,
however, was severely slowed, as he did not wish to risk the speed he needed,
lest the rope part the faster and he fell to his death. But a moment later he
saw that Conan must have had the same thought, for barely had the axe struck
home before Conan was standing atop the wall, reeling in Valun’s own rope as he
held it below the cut.
In
the moment’s pause as Conan retrieved and wiped his axe. Valun said “Do not
think I will ever forget that.”
“Keep
your fame and honor if you like. I think that’s the fourth time I’ve saved your
life already. In the old stories you would have already promised me half the
kingdom. Eternal gratitude is little against that, but I will continue doing my
duty, prize or no prize. Now let’s find this snake Keltran.” However, before
they continued, Conan took two careful swings at the ropes they had used and watched
as they fell to the ground. “Now we only have to watch for guards inside the
castle. And those seem few enough. It seems they thought no enemy would ever
get as far as the wall, let alone over it.”
Upon
reaching the ground, they first attacked the gate house and found it empty.
Only then did they go up to the gate, remove the bars, both as large as stout
logs, and together thrust the gate open with all their strength. Having done
this, they shouted to their friends in the hope that someone might hear and
come running.
After
a few moments of this Conan stopped. “The gate was likely loud enough, and they
shall come in a moment if they still live. We cannot waste more time.”
“Then
follow me, around to the scullery door. It is least likely to be watched.”
Without
another word both men hurried around to the spot where Valun knew the kitchen
entrance could be found. On the way they came suddenly upon two Naiberns who
did not have time to react before the Corridanes had knocked them unconscious
and left them lying. Levering open the specified door, rather than smashing it
in, in the space of minutes made quicker by their haste, the two Corridanes
found themselves in the kitchens of the captured castle, surprising a crowd of
cooks working with food undoubtedly collected over the resistance of the
suffering townspeople.
Drawing
his axe, Conan went among them speaking in a low, sinister which Valun had
thought he would never hear from the man. “You all keep your thoughts in your
heads where they belong. If anyone so much as whispers that we are here, I’ll
kill him. I’ve waited long enough to reach home, and I’ll not be killed in the
king’s kitchen. Where is that double-crossing coward, your leader?” He pointed with
the axe toward a servant who was just about to take some food out. “You, where
is he?”
“Just
out there in the hall, sir.” The servant replied, his voice quavering.
“Good”
said Valun, speaking for the first time. “I will take it.” Crossing the room,
he took the serving dish from the terrified servant and strode out into the
great hall with it. He found to his relief that the room had not changed much
since his departure, save that the banners which had been hanging then were
gone now, probably burned, Valun thought. They had been replaced by several black
banners all bearing a device of a flaming cartwheel. Being careful to make no
audible remark on this, Valun strode across the room with the tray to stand
before his enemy, who as before was sitting in the high throne as he ate. This
was a great insult to Valun, for his father had never eaten from the great
chair. Always he had it put aside as if it were worthy of reverence.
Valun
set down the tray he had carried in, and stepped back, Keltran took the food
and drink without decorum, hardly seeming to notice Valun standing but a few
feet away. Finally, after a long draught of Valun’s wine, he paused and saw
Valun himself standing there.
“Get
along! I’m sure there’s more work for you to do around here!”
Valun
drew his sword. “Yes, in that you are right. There is much that I must do in
this place to make it right once more, as well as I can, and that starts with
getting rid of you. If you are wearing a sword, draw and I will fight you now,
as I wished to do ten years ago when it would have been my death. It will not
be my death this time. If you cannot fight, you had best get out of my seat
before the Trondale decides to come in and do it without formalities.”
Keltran
pushed aside the small table and rose from the throne. ”You’ve come back, have
you? They told me the spy would have killed you by now. And I believed them. It
was folly to choose a boy. You see these banners? These are the emperor’s
banners, and I rule this place for him. You haven’t saved your country by
getting me out this seat, not by a month of battle you haven’t.”
Rather
than reply to this gloating speech Valun looked back over his shoulder and
called out “Conan, get in here. The snake is talking too much.” At the summons,
Conan emerged from the kitchen, strode across the hall to the side of Keltran,
who had been struck dumb by Valun’s nonchalant disregard of his speech, and
quickly and easily struck a blow on the Naibern’s jaw which caused him to
immediately go limp. A moment later Conan was holding the senseless man by the
collar.
With
a gesture, Valun signaled that Conan was to bring their prisoner along. They
went out through the main doors, receiving many a startled look from castle
guards, who seemed to be coming out of the woodwork now, when Valun had the upper hand. None made any move to stop the
Corridanes once they realized that it was their leader Conan was carrying on
his shoulder like a sack of meal. In the silence of the morning, the Corridanes
mounted to the top of the wall, and only then Conan set the still unconscious
Keltran down.
Looking
out over the city, Valun saw that a few people had come out into the streets,
traveling in packs of four or more. Raising his voice, he called down to them.
“Look you, men of Corridane! The usurper is cast down! Here he is in our
grasp!” By this time, some of the people had stopped to see what the shouting
was about. Keltran, who had begun to come around, made no attempt to escape
from the Corridanes. He seemed still to be trying to make out where he was.
Valun continued. “The king requires you now. You must go and seek out Richard
of Longfurrow, and bring him back here if he still lives. Some of you open the
gates of the city and bring my news to the army waiting outside. The age of the
Naibern is ended!”
The
conclusion of Valun’s speech was greeted with scattered cheers and the
subsequent scattering of his little audience. With a sigh, he prepared to go
down into the castle again. “It shall be done again when all the Naiberns have
been driven out and everyone who can is here to see it. Then we may begin to
heal our country.”
Conan
pulled the still-dazed Keltran upright. “Little often serves well enough my
lord. Festivals will not solve all our problems yet. What shall we do with
this?”
“Him?
Put him in the dungeons. He can sit down there and wonder if he is to meet the
same end as your father did.” Valun saw with a glance that this suggestion made
Keltran very worried indeed. “But I am a better man than that, so there is hope
for him, but that is where he is going now. You may have to ask a servant to
show you the way. I am going up to my room.”
However,
the trouble Valun had thought to escape from was still one step ahead. When he
came to his room, he found a woman there calmly brushing her hair as she sat
before a mirror, which had not been there when he left. Valun was forced to
announce his presence.
“I
know not who you are and I care not where you come from, but I must ask you to
leave this castle.”
“Why?
And who are you to say such a thing anyway?”
“Have
you ever heard of the prince Valun? He and I are the same. I am master of this
castle, and Keltran is in the dungeons until I release him. To you, however, I
give free passage where you will, so long as you leave this day.”
“And
what if I wish to stay?”
“Then
you will live in the city, but you will leave this castle with all speed. That
is my order.”
“How
can I? You have put my man in prison. I will not go.”
Valun
sighed and turned away. He felt this was a battle he could not fight now.
Without another word to the lady, he made his way back to the main halls,
hoping to hear news of Richard. He met Conan in the main hall. Conan was alone
and holding a flagon. There was another on the table, which he passed to the
king.
“I
put Keltran in the dungeons, as you ordered, He refuses to speak, as if we had
anything more to learn from him. I drew this off for Richard, for I know he
will want some as soon as he returns, but as you see he has not showed himself
yet. Did you find anything?”
“I
did. There is a woman in my room who insists that she will not leave if we have
Keltran in the dungeons-Did you hear what I heard?”
“I
did. It sounded like a call to open the gate.”
Both
men leapt up from the table, nearly spilling the drinks as they put the flagons
down with undue force. Almost neck-and-neck, they hurried out to the courtyard,
where between them they soon had the door pulled open.
Five
men were standing there, all of them injured. After a moment, the captain spoke
up.
“We’re
still dying, my lord, and we refuse to stop until we can have a bite to eat and
a moment to bind our wounds.”
Valun
had been stunned by the sight of so few survivors, and not least by the sight
of severe injuries to Richard, whom he had for some reason been confident would
either die or survive unscathed. Awakened by Richard’s irreverent description
of the survivors’ condition, he spoke up to greet them.
“Welcome,
welcome to my hall, and I honor you. My heart grows light at the sight of you,
and I greatly desire to know the whole story. But you must eat and rest first.”
Having said this, Valun offered his shoulder for one of the soldiers to lean
on, and Conan did the same on the other side. Richard and the remaining two
linked their arms with the others so that they were all supporting each other
as they hobbled toward the castle.
As
the party reentered the hall, Valun shouted toward the kitchens for more mead,
and bandages. Setting their charges down gingerly, the two healthy Corridanes
looked about for something that would begin to serve to help the survivors. It
took them only a moment to jump at the chance to tear down the black banners
which had lately been hanging between the several windows. Conan turned toward
the kitchen to steal a knife with which to shred the things, while Valun turned
back toward his men.
Richard
had evidently taken the opportunity to steal the flagons already on the table,
which were still nearly full, and had charged himself to make sure they were
passed around evenly. When they were empty, he pushed them back toward the
king. “Thank you, my lord. And how can we repay you for such generosity, if I
may ask?”
“By
drinking more when it comes, and telling me how you got in such a state. I was
past the day of believing Richard Longfurrow would return from a battle alive
and yet nearly dead.”
“Ha!
Forgive my laughter, my lord, but no man deserves such a reputation, as I have
just proved. Mind you, though, it took two of them at once to mark me, and my
enemies, as they say, are dead.”
“Did
they not outnumber you? How did you survive?”
“Outnumber
us they did, sire, and we escaped only by the greatest of fortune. The five of
us were backed against the wall in some alley, barely holding our own, when our
ears began to ring with blasts of trumpets. The men and I were weak enough by
then that we could barely stand, and all slid to the ground. But the Naiberns
ignored us, and dashed off to fight the army which had finally arrived, I
suppose. We sat, and rested, and blessed those trumpets to the heavens, and
then began to walk. And that, my lord, is our story. Now what of yours?”
By
this time, the new flagons and the bandages had finally come. Each man took one
as servants began to go about binding up the several injuries of Richard and
his companions. Conan had also returned, and it was he who answered Richard’s
question.
“Our
story is not much to tell. We climbed the wall, I killed the only guard in
sight, and came in through the kitchen. Not half an hour ago I left that foul
Keltran in a dungeon cell.”
Carefully
flexing his injured arm, Richard replied, his tone betraying his wish to have
been there himself. “Well, you certainly had the easier task. Was there any
trouble, at all?”
“Yes,”
answered Conan “Perhaps there is some that you could help us with…There is a
lady in the king’s room who has refused to leave. Perhaps you can succeed at
that.” Suddenly, Conan paused, as if just realizing the situation. “Forgive me,
my lord. I ought to have let you speak for yourself.”
“There
was no harm in it this time, good Trondale. I would have said much the same
myself. Now, Richard, are you up to it?”
Richard
drank down the last of his flagon with one long swallow. Setting it down, he
replied “We shall see what will come of this, my lord. Why is she up there at
all?”
“I
believe she thinks Keltran loves her. At least she seems to think as much of
him, so she has refused to depart the castle because we have him in the
dungeons.”
“I
see…We cannot say we will release him, because that we won’t. We cannot force
her, for that is worse than trickery. The only thing to do is to discover what
else she wants besides his freedom, and give it up if we can.”
“Food
may well be enough.” Said Conan in reply. “She has not come down yet. No doubt
once moved she will see the wisdom of a different course.”
“I
care not how it is done,” said Valun “So long as it is done with courtesy.”
“It is below me to have it done differently, sire. No matter, I go to do as you
command.” With that, Richard rose from the
table, all jocularity removed from his expression. As he left, Valun turned
back to Conan with a new command.
“Come
with me, Conan. There is much else that needs our attention outside.”
