XXXIV
Now we are with Meola again. She and Thrandeo put their minds together and sought to bring the other earls to their side. This was no simple task, but the earls found it easier to get behind Thrandeo, the mighty warrior, than Meola, the bitter widow, particularly after the high-reeve’s supposed murder of Beyla the Earl. By the time Meola had been working with Thrandeo for nearly a year, they had the backing of all the other earls but one: Solvega, the Earl of Eylavol. Meola and Thrandeo agreed that she would not be easily parted from the king’s influence and chose to ignore her for now.
With allies behind her at last, Meola travelled southwards to meet the king as the year was coming to its end. She went alongside Thrandeo, who brought along a company from Kyalannes, and Seybeo, the Earl of Syenavol, and some of his thanes. When they came to Syorbak, the king agreed to hear their pleas, but he stipulated that only one of them would be allowed to come through the gate. Meola, Thrandeo, and Seybeo each put themselves forward.
‘I can see,’ said Seybeo, ‘that my conviction pales next to that of you two. I shall withdraw. Which of you will join me?’
‘Certainly not me,’ said Thrandeo. ‘Why should one of my high standing let another walk before me? It would not be fitting to let the foremost men of our lands be represented by anything less than themselves.’
‘And certainly not me,’ said Meola, ‘for it was my striving that brought you here in the first place. Were it not for me, you would still be slumped in your chair wishing you had not cowered in exile as your kinsfolk were slaughtered.’
Thereupon, Seybeo knew that this would not be resolved with words alone. Neither Meola nor Thrandeo would withdraw and let the other go inside, so he proposed another solution.
‘Firstly,’ he said, ‘we must be three of one mind. There can be no grudges between us, lest they turn our attention away from the matter at hand. Thrandeo, Meola was the wife of a man much our equal and is thusly of the same standing as the two of us. Meola, we both know that Thrandeo has not cowered once in his life, so firm is his spirit. I bid you make amends.’
Meola and Thrandeo each took the other’s hand and apologised.
‘Secondly,’ said Seybeo, ‘I shall propose a fair resolution to this quarrel.’ Meola and Thrandeo agreed to this, and Seybeo continued, ‘This is your task: whichever of you finds the fellow with the finest feet among us will meet the king. You have until dinner time. I will judge your selections after eating, so as not to spoil my appetite.’
Then Seybeo turned away to oversee the building of the booths.
Thrandeo went away at once and commanded the men in his company to take off their shoes and socks and hitch up their trousers. He lined them up and judged the quality of their feet one by one, but he found them all to be lacking. The finest feet were little better than fair, and the worst were quite unsightly. Dissatisfied, he interrupted the booth building and did the same with the men of Seybeo’s company, but he found their feet no finer. In the end, the finest feet he could find belonged to his own young son, who was called Osfero.
‘Osfero,’ said Thrandeo, ‘you get your looks from your beautiful mother, toes and all.’
Meola did not look at anyone’s feet, and instead helped with the booths.
When dinner time had come and gone, Seybeo called a council of as many people as could fit in one booth. He asked Meola and Thrandeo if they had each found a pair of feet. They said they had, and Seybeo invited Thrandeo to present the finest feet first. He had Osfero stand up in the middle of the crowd and show off his feet, soft and smooth with youth. Seybeo went to Osfero, and he caressed each foot before taking his seat once more.
‘Fair,’ said Seybeo, ‘but I have felt finer.’
Now it was Meola’s turn, and she said, ‘I suspect, Seybeo, that the fellow with the finest feet is none other than yourself. Show us.’
Seybeo smiled and arose. He took off his shoes and his socks, revealing so dainty a pair of feet that everyone in the room gasped.
‘You flatterers!’ he said, and he invited everyone to come forth and feel his feet, that they could be assured of their quality, but there was no need for that. There could be no disputing the victor.
‘So it is decided,’ said Seybeo. ‘Meola shall meet the king and speak on behalf of us all.’
Meola turned to Thrandeo and said, ‘Do not be saddened, dear Thrandeo. You will, in time, be glad for this outcome.’
Thrandeo had nothing to say to this and left the room.
Meola went into Syorbak the next day, and as promised, she was granted the king’s attention. He asked her why she and her companions had come to his hall, and she said they had three demands to make of him.
‘The first,’ she said, ‘is that the high-reeve should be held accountable for murdering Beyla, the Earl of Eylavol.’
‘Nonsense,’ said the king. ‘Enlovo did not kill her. That was the work of another, the wandering widow, or so I am told, though her name escapes me. What is your second demand?’
‘The second is that Thalo Asfoannan, a man yet warded by to the Lord of Pearmol, be held accountable for murdering Gaylodho, Beyla’s predecessor in the earldom.’
‘What the Lord of Pearmol does with his thanes is nothing to do with me. But that reminds me—it was Gaylodho’s widow who slew Beyla, unable to best her rival by honester means, though her name still sits beyond my reach. What is your third demand?’
‘The third is that you relinquish your claim to any kingship in Norlonn.’
‘Had that been the first, we would have saved ourselves some time. Tell me, who are you to make such ridiculous demands of me? You have come in the company of twofold earls. Why do you stand here in their stead?’
‘Meola is my name.’
When the king heard this name, his eyes widened with recognition. ‘The widow walks willingly into my hall. Why should I not slay you here and now, and exact bloody recompense for the murder of your earl?’
‘I have the backing of all of the earls, save only the most spineless of them. If you were to seek vengeance against me for a crime I did not commit, they would see that for what it is—yet another instance of your wilful disdain for our people—and would surely turn to violence in kind. But let us not get ahead of ourselves. After all, why should one who has hitherto been so blind to justice suddenly care to deliver it now?’
The king took a moment to whisper with one of his attendants, and then stood up, saying, ‘Leave my hall at once and return to your companions. I will consider your plea and deliver my ruling in three days’ time.’
Meola turned away and left the hall without another word. When she came back to the booths, Thrandeo and Seybeo both set upon her, eager to know what had happened. She said the king had accused her of murdering Beyla, but she had skilfully warned him against indicting her. On the matter of their demands, she said the king would make his reply in three days.
‘He first said six,’ she said, ‘but I very artfully haggled it down to three.’
Seybeo applauded her guile, while Thrandeo only grimaced.
Over the following days, the king considered what he was to do about his guests. He summoned his council to discuss the matter, and although everyone had something to say, few agreed on any of it. In time, the councillors grew so heated that there was no need for chairs, and one portly fellow threw his across the room. Soon enough, Rago, the chancellor and the father of both Enlovo the High-reeve and Solvega the Earl, put out his hands and called for dignity.
‘Close your mouths,’ he said, ‘and be done with this madness.’
The king seconded this, and after a short recess, the council resumed with rather less violence.
The last to say their piece was the king’s younger brother, Arneo, who said, ‘Brother, you must maintain your authority. Let nothing assail it! We two alone are our father’s heirs, the heirs to his legacy and his kingdom alike. Do not let his glory wane, nor his kingdom crumble. That would amount to a most dire dishonour.’
The king said, ‘Quite right. Our father’s kingship over Norlonn was granted by none but the will of fate. To lay that aside, to let his legacy be lost, would imperil us all, and not least the northerners themselves.’
The following day was the third since Meola had come into the king’s hall, the day upon which his ruling was to be delivered. With a great throng of his stoutest thanes beside him, he went out of Syorbak to meet his guests. They all came forward to hear him, with Meola, Thrandeo, and Seybeo standing in a row at the front.
After some initial greetings, the king said, ‘You have asked very much of your king, but he has neither the means nor the willingness to give you any of it. You will get nothing from him but the right to leave here peacefully and promptly.’
At this, Thrandeo scoffed, and he said, ‘Wretch! You have no right to call yourself my king.’
‘Quell your tongue, man. My kingship in Norlonn was rightly won, and so it will be held for all my days to come.’
‘Rightly won? Tell me, were you there with your father? Were you there when he brought his army into our homes, when he butchered all who stood before him? None were spared—not man nor woman, not the young nor the old, nor even the children, my brothers and sisters. Your father’s blades fell upon them all just the same. If you were there, king, you would know there was nothing right about it.’
‘Tell me then, earl, were you there?’
Thrandeo said nothing to this. His only reply was the tightening grip on his sword. Meola took his hand in her own and gently lifted it away.
The king went on, ‘My father was thorough, but so upstanding a man could never have stooped so low. Do not presume to tell me what is true and what is right. I am your king, and so I shall remain.’
‘We shall see,’ said Thrandeo, and then he turned away and went back to his booth. The king turned likewise and went back through the gate.
Meola and the others left Syorbak the next day, and all so cheerless that not a word was said until they had crossed over Fegennas.
In the new year, Thrandeo summoned an assembly of the earls, joined by many of their magnates. They met at Mornawl in Syenavol, and Thrandeo sat at the front of the room with Seybeo and Meola, who was by then as much a member of his retinue as were any of his thanes. They told their peers about everything that had happened in the south, and when Meola had recited the king’s words, the room erupted with fury.
‘Your anger is understandable,’ said Thrandeo, ‘but please hold on to it. I wish to propose a solution to our problem, and one which will give you ample opportunity to turn your wrath against those who deserve to suffer it. Do not let your anger flicker out before then.’
The magnates asked him what his solution might be.
‘We must rebel against the king. We must oust his dogs from our lands, and if he wishes to reclaim his kingship, he must fight for it, and fight to the last. There is no other way.’
This was a very significant proposal. The magnates were hesitant to rally behind it, and so Meola arose and said, ‘Where is your honour? Where is your courage? How many of us must die because of the king’s closed eyes before you open yours?’
In turn, Seybeo arose and said, ‘And where is your wit? We pay the king’s tribute each year, and what have we to show for it? I would venture to say we have nothing at all.’
‘Nothing but grief,’ said Meola.
‘Nothing but disrespect,’ said Thrandeo.
They each sat down, whereupon Solvega arose and asked to speak against this most disproportionate proposal. Thrandeo refused.
‘No,’ he said. ‘The time for speaking is over. Now is the time for doing. If you wish to speak against this, speak with your vote.’
Then the earls voted on the matter. Solvega alone opposed rebelling against the king, and six of the earls voted in favour of it. The eighth vote would have been that of Balkena, the Earl of Fawnavol, but she was not present at the time, and Thrandeo refused to let one of her representatives vote on her behalf.
On the first day of summer, they made their rejection of the king official by murdering as many of his reeves as they could. Solvega had not been told about this, but it was brought to her attention shortly before it all unfolded. At once, she sent messengers out to each of the reeves to warn them of their impending murder, but this was not enough to save them all. Most of her messengers either failed to reach the reeves alive, or else they arrived too late. In the end, five of the eight were killed.
Enlovo, the Reeve of Eylavol, survived because he was already in the south with the king, most of his duties having been taken up by Solvega. The only other survivors were Yale, the Reeve of Fawnavol, and Owvo, the Reeve of Rogavol. Yale had received Solvega’s messenger and fled into her protection. The rider sent racing off to Owvo never arrived, as her horse tripped on some loose gravel, and she was flung out of her saddle and over a cliff. Nonetheless, when Ollavo, the Earl of Rogavol, brought a troop of warriors to Owvo’s house at Nottamol, he and his thanes fought them off. Though many died in the effort, Owvo reached Bealnew, whereafter he and Yale were escorted southwards.
After this, Thrandeo and Frewdha, the Earl of Syagavol, gathered an army from their earldoms and began a period of frequent raiding in Eylavol, hoping to force Solvega into submission. He also sent Meola back to Bealnew to find support within Solvega’s own domain. Solvega let her into the town, but Meola snubbed her entirely, instead seeking a meeting with Godleda Beylannan.
‘If my mother were yet alive,’ said Godleda, ‘I am sure she would be glad to rebel against the king. I will support you.’
Then they started working together to speak against Solvega and her allies at every opportunity, although this did not achieve as much as they hoped it would. After all, Solvega had the king’s wealth behind her, and her magnates were not all too eager to support those who were pillaging their homes.
‘It is for your own good!’ said Meola, but this was not convincing.
When the king heard about all this, he brought the matter before his council. There was much less disagreement this time.
‘This threat,’ said Arneo, ‘must be met swiftly and sternly. Show them that the king is not to be prodded, for the king prods back, and firmly.’ The king agreed with this and set about mustering an army. He made up the bulk of this with a levy from the shires, and then began a tour of the lordships in search of additional fighters. His closest allies were reliable, each putting up a troop in support of their king, but few of the others were forthcoming, not having been given the chance to vote on the matter. Last of all, the king sent trusty Gefyona home to Samnew to get Trewgeo’s support, while he made his way to Pearmol.