The Marquis by Michael O'Neill Page B

that is a decision of the Witan looking at all candidates and… and … we have never had a Wealdend before. There are other of the male line who should be considered. It is simply not a decision that you – an outsider – can impose upon us.’
    Efilda looked at Conn. ‘He’s my cousin of my father’s line.’
    Conn nodded as ruefully as he could and turned and looked at Derryth and Brys and they nodded and left the tent. The tension in the room went up immediately. Even Besywan was concerned.
    ‘What just happened?’
    Conn went to leave but turned back. ‘As I said, I agreed to make Efilda Wealdend. If she cannot be Wealdend, then my agreement is null and void and my fyrd will now be at war with Samria. I will then make myself a Healdend painted in the blood of every Marquis who does not pay for his life with the freedom of his children and every gold coin in his demesne. Gentlemen, I will give you a day’s grace before my men will start their advance. May the Gyden be with you… because you are going to need it. In case you haven’t noticed, I now have four hundred cavalry.’
    He turned to go again. Besywan called out loudest amongst the clamour of voices. ‘Marquis… Marquis… let us not be hasty…’
    Conn turned back.
    Besywan continued. ‘That is not to say that we CAN’T have a Wealdend – it is just that we never have had one until now. And of course, cousin Efilda as eldest daughter of Beohart is of course a primary candidate and will receive every opportunity to be selected…’
    Conn interrupted him by turning to leave again.
    ‘Wait… wait…Marquis, please. Let me confer with my fellow members of the Witan. Not all but a majority are here today. Will you give us an hour?’
    He shook his head. ‘No. You have ten minutes.’
    He was about to protest again but thought better of it. Conn continued. ‘I’ll wait outside.’
    Outside he joined Brys and Derryth, who handed him a cup of hot coffee.
    Derryth had a cheeky grin on his face. ‘You are a devious man. I’m going to remember what you said: “A Healdend painted in the blood of every Marquis who does not pay for his life with the freedom of his children”. It will be a bedtime story for my grandchildren to tell them about the evil ways of the Priecuman.’
    ‘You will tell them that I didn’t do it, won’t you?’
    He smiled again. ‘Maybe, maybe not.’

Chapter 05
    As was to be expected, the Marquises of Samria soon agreed and went through a temporary but binding procedure to confirm Efilda as Wealdend of Samria. The next day Mungan left with all the Ancuman wiga, closely followed by Wystan and a battalion of wiga that he had cobbled together from the three companies he had trained in Subari, and three companies compiled from remnants of the Border Patrol. With his battalion in tow, Wystan left to take control of security in Samriak and prepare for the Wealdend’s arrival.
    Before his departure, Conn held a ceremony where he pinned on the second star to indicate Wystan’s promotion to Colonel. He also awarded him a Gold Cross for bravery, and Sythan Service Medal for which he would get two clasps. There were many more who were awarded medals – including those that received a Bronze Star for Courage, having been wounded or killed on the battlefield.
    The ceremony over, Brys took a thousand wiga back to Samriak while Conn kept the 1 st Hama Battalion with him; now comprised of four hundred cavalry – along with an additional two hundred pack horses – thanks to the four hundred horses donated by the Ancuman.
    The rest of the Samrian fyrd dissipated slowly over the next few days. Finally there was no one left but Conn, his cavalry, and the Wealdend of Samria, who Conn had suggested stay with him rather than go ahead with Wystan as he wasn’t yet totally convinced of her safety. Conn was in no hurry to depart; he wanted to allow Brys at least seven days to ensure that the town was safe for the Wealdend. While he waited, he