The Marquis by Michael O'Neill Page A

dare you accuse me of setting barbarians against my own people? Your “barbarians” murdered your brother and my daughter – my beautiful daughter…’ She turned away to hide the tears in her eyes.
    Dagrun continued unabated. He pointed to Conn. ‘Tell him to let me go immediately – I am your Healdend.’
    She turned back to look at him and shook her head. ‘You are not my Healdend – not since you sent assassins to kill my family.’
    He looked down, momentarily embarrassed. ‘It was not of my doing – I had nothing to do with that. I had no idea that was going to happen like it did.’ He looked up. ‘Although I am sorry, it matters not – I am still rightful ruler of all Samria. Release me immediately! You have no right to treat me like this!’
    There was no reasoning with him so Conn had him gagged, and dragged away to a tent where he was to be kept under guard. Derryth returned and looked at Conn, nodding.
    Efilda was concerned again. ‘He is not to be killed… I cannot condone that even if I do not forgive him for what he allowed to happen.’
    Conn assured her that he would not be harmed, and as he walked with Derryth out of the tent.
    ‘A midnight escape attempt, you say?’
    Derryth nodded. ‘And he didn’t see the cliff…’
    ‘And fell into the river...very sad…’
    ‘Must have drowned because there is no body…’
    ‘And out of respect, we looked.’ Conn nodded. ‘I think we can make that work.’
    ~oo0oo~
    Being so high up the mountain, the snow melt was feeding into fast streams. The stream that passed close to their village led into the river that entered the sea close to the town of Subari. As it turned out, the tent that Dagrun was being held in was nearest the bank; and there were no buildings between his and the water’s edge.
    It was late at night when the alarm was raised that Dagrun had escaped his tent and wiga went in search of him, including inside the hospital where the Ancuman wiga were being held. Later, conflicting reports of witnesses seeing him climbing the banks of the stream or swimming down the stream were circulated, as well as reports of him falling into the river.
    In the morning, additional troops went to look for the missing Healdend, with instructions to follow the river all the way to the sea. By midmorning, however, rumours of his demise were circulated, including messages sent to the waiting Marquis of Samria that they were delayed because the Healdend had escaped.
    When they finally arrived to meet with the Samrian Marquis, it was late morning. The Wealdend’s entourage included all the Ancuman prisoners they had; some able to walk and some on horseback, albeit not their own. Brys handed them over to Mungan and Geirnarr, with instructions to leave the next morning for the arduous march back to the town of Samria. It would take weeks.
    Inside the tent the Eaorl waited and when Efilda arrived, they greeted her warmly. She was after all related to them all. When she got to Mungan, she told him that his sister was fine. She then turned serious, and spoke louder, so that everyone could hear. ‘Marquis, in respect to your sister’s reputation, I had little choice but to make her bedda to Wystan – without your consent… I apologize… but it seemed the right thing to do under the circumstances.’
    He nodded knowingly. ‘I understand and respect that you did what you thought was right…’
    They both turned and faced the collected nobility of Samria. Conn thought he would do his speech first.
    ‘Gentlemen. All very simple. My deal with Efilda is that I give her demesne of Samria and she gives me Subari. We are half way there. If you all make your pledge of allegiance or loyalty or whatever it is you do here in Samria that makes Efilda Wealdend then we can all be friends …’
    As expected, Besywan, Marquis of Sumy stepped forward. ‘As grateful as we are for the removal of the Ancuman from Samria, it is not possible for us to do that here and now –