XXXVII
The very next day, Karvalo had Awldano up and armed by daybreak, and Thalo just the same. They were to make their way to Samnew and capture Trewgeo, but they did not expect him to come willingly, so they prepared themselves for a fight full and proper. They each put on a thick shirt and a coat of mail, and Awldano donned also a finely laced cuirass of iron. Over their shoulders they slung a pair of matching shields, although the patterns painted thereon are not faithfully recorded. They also brought a spear each, and where Thalo had Sleme at his hip, as often he did, Awldano wore the sword Gantewre.
‘Just this once,’ Karvalo had said, ‘you shall wield your father’s blade, as you dole out his judgement.’
Last of all, Thalo put on his head that same helmet he had worn since he left Klagenn all those years ago. Awldano wore one rather more becoming, a gift he had received from his grandmother on the day of her death, and what a gift it was! Wrapped in all manner of intricate designs, it was a beautiful thing, with the nosepiece wrought in the image of a golden stag, its antlers forming the brows.
When both were ready, Thalo and Awldano joined the warriors gathering in the yard. In all, they numbered a full sixty, although they would not go alone. Karvalo had bidden Odwala join them, not to fight, but to take control of Samnew once the fighting was done. Oze, her faithful bodyguard, went beside her.
Last to be counted were Kolmago and his dearest friend, Fenneo, who was the adoptive son of Amfredha of the gate.
Amfredha had gone out into the woods one day many years ago looking for a boar to wrestle, and while she was prowling the lesser-trodden tracks, she found a bag hung from a tree branch. Within the bag was the infant Fenneo, sleeping bundled in a blanket.
‘Oy-oy!’ she said. ‘A lucky orphan!’
Then she took the bag down, carried Fenneo home, and raised him as her own. Though he was a fine young lad, and Kolmago’s second shadow, he was not an important person to remember, all things considered.
Just as Awldano was about to lead his troop out of Pearmol, Kolmago and Fenneo came to him, each armed and armoured, and asked to come along for the ride. They were by that point a pair of firm young men, but Awldano was nonetheless reluctant to allow it.
‘Hold a moment,’ said Kolmago, ‘and tell me this: what do you know of my father’s final days?’
Awldano thought for a moment, then said, ‘What of it?’
‘My quiet days have been many since then, and I have found in myself a knack for hearing that which ought not be heard. With my ear against a door closed tight, I heard from your father’s own lips the true reason I am bereft of mine—Trewgeo alone, Lord of Samnew, was the man behind it. I have held this knowledge fast in my breast, but Karvalo now moves to right this wrong, and I will be a part of it. I will avenge my father!’
‘And even were it not so,’ said Fenneo, ‘it would nonetheless be our right and our privilege as men of Pearmol to fight on behalf of our lord, just as it is yours. If you are to deny us that, Awldano, you are to deny us any honour that might be found within this hall.’
Awldano was not convinced. He looked to Thalo, standing slumped beside Ondayo, and he said nothing, but nodded once.
‘So be it,’ said Awldano. ‘I will count you two among us.’
It happened that Ormana had been by the hall, watching over the troop as they mustered in the yard. She saw Kolmago and Fenneo join them, and not a moment passed before she was rushing down into the throng to strike them both upon their helmets.
‘Twofold twits!’ she said. ‘What are you doing out here?’
‘You have eyes, do you not?’ said Kolmago. ‘And a brain? Use them.’
‘I could say much the same to you.’
‘Whatever you say, I must do this. Trewgeo was the one behind our father’s murder. I will fight, and I will avenge him. That is the duty we each bear as his children, though only one of us dares take it up.’
‘There is no need for that, not now. What will our mother think when she learns you have upped and made off to battle so?’
‘I daresay she would think nothing much of it at all.’
‘Do not say such things.’
‘Whyever not? She has paid me little to no heed for years now. Why should I sit by and lessen my honour waiting for her to change that? I have waited long enough already, and for what? Nothing but regret, I fear, and wasted hopes. But no longer. If she wishes to mend this rift between us, she may do so, but until that day comes, I will not bother myself caring for those who do not see fit to care for me likewise. Perhaps, Ormana, you might do the same.’
Then Kolmago leapt upon his horse and rode out of the yard without another word. Fenneo offered Ormana a brief farewell and went behind him.
As Kolmago left, a single tear rolled down Ormana’s cheek, but she held the rest in check. She went to Thalo, took his hand in her own, and said, ‘Please, Thalo, keep them safe.’
But before Thalo could reply, Awldano said, ‘We will do all we can do, for each of our lives depends as much on the courage of the fellow beside us as our own. But know this, Ormana: once the spear-woods sound their bitter fury, only equivocal fate can foresay what will come of it. That is no comfort, I know, but what more comfort can be offered?’
Then Awldano said his own farewell and led the troop out of the yard.
Thalo lingered briefly, his hand still in Ormana’s, but he would not be left behind. He let her go, climbed upon Ondayo, and said it was time for him to leave. Ormana wished him luck, and to this he said, ‘I have all the luck I need in my name.’
Then he rode away, and Ormana went inside.
Awldano’s company came to Samnew later that morning. Before they went to the town, they set Odwala up on a nearby hill, where she would remain a safe distance from the fighting, and Oze stayed with her, should the fighting nonetheless come to her. Then they all went down into Samnew, got off their horses, and made for the hall. Of course, such a troop could not have arrived unnoticed. A small band of Trewgeo’s thanes came to meet them on the path, and at their front stood Kardano, Trewgeo’s uncle.
‘Hold it,’ he said, ‘and tell me why you folk have come here. It looks very much like you mean to fight, but I can scarcely believe it. I recognise you, Awldano, to be a man of Pearmol. We two are sons of friendly halls, so why do you arrive dressed for battle?’
‘We come,’ said Awldano, ‘with a request from Karvalo, my father, Lord of Pearmol, though he does not expect it to be granted. We must be prepared for whatever we will be given instead.’
‘What request is this?’
‘Karvalo wishes to make Trewgeo a guest in his hall. That is all.’
Upon hearing these words, Kardano scoffed, and he said, ‘There is no need to so conceal your intentions. I will not forsake my lord, but will shield his life with my own. That is the oath I have sworn, the same oath sworn by all worthy folk. I will not grant your request.’
Awldano said, ‘It is not for you to grant it. Bring me Trewgeo, that I may tell him where we stand. If he were to submit willingly, perhaps we could avoid a fight, and he could live to tell of it.’
Kardano considered these words, eyeing up Awldano’s glittering friends all the while, until he said, ‘So it will be. Trewgeo will hear your plea, should he so wish, but you will not take a step further.’
Kardano went up to the hall while the rest of his company stood before Awldano and his. During their conversation, more of Trewgeo’s thanes had come to join their companions, and their numbers were bolstered further still when Trewgeo came strutting down the path with another ten or so behind him, all armed and armoured in much the same fashion as their visitors.
‘What is this about?’ said Trewgeo, without greeting anyone. ‘I am told you have a request for me.’
‘Indeed,’ said Awldano. ‘Karvalo, Lord of Pearmol, your friend and peer, kindly bids you submit to him, surrender your lordship here, and be welcomed as a guest in his hall. That is all.’
Trewgeo was, for a moment, speechless.
‘What do you say?’ said Awldano.
‘What do I say?’ said Trewgeo. ‘Filth! I will not submit to him, nor will you dare make me. I have the king behind me! Prod me, Awldano, and we will prod you back all the harder.’
‘The king is dead.’
‘Eh? Say more.’
‘What more is there to say? The king is dead. His army was attacked in Eylavol, and he did not survive the battle. Neither did your sister, nor any of those she took with her. Fate is once again against you, Trewgeo. Submit, and you will be treated fairly.’
When Kardano heard this news, he was stricken with shame.
‘Gefyona bade me join her,’ he said, ‘but I refused. What cowardice! Had I been with her, perhaps I might have seen her safely away. Alas, another of my kinsfolk lies dead for my weakness.’
‘No,’ said Awldano. ‘There is no weakness in you, nor can you be allotted any blame. Stand down, Kardano. There need be no further death.’
Kardano said nothing more, his head hung low, and thereupon Trewgeo stepped forth. This news only filled him with a greater spite.
‘It cannot be so!’ he said. ‘You are surely lying, sent here to frighten me into submission. But I am no fool. Hear me, lapdog, and know this: the king is beside me. I do not fear you, nor your fat-fingered father. I will not submit to Karvalo as long as I live. I would sooner be dead in a ditch than bend before that hateful man and suffer the indignity of bitchery! I am the Lord of Samnew, and so I will remain. If you wish to fight about it, have at it!’
Then Trewgeo called upon his thanes to fight, but though many took up their positions, Kardano yet stood stoic.
‘There need be no further death,’ he said, ‘but mine. I will not betray my oaths. I will fight in defence of my kinsman, and thereby redeem myself. Put up your shields, lads! The tide of battle will settle this!’
With that, Kardano held his spear aloft, and the men of Samnew formed their line as Trewgeo retreated to the hall.
‘It need not have come to this,’ said Awldano, ‘but that it has is no surprise,’ and he stepped back likewise to join his companions.
Once the lines were drawn, Awldano spoke this verse:
‘Hold fast thine axe, hold fast thy spear,
and firm thyself ‘gainst fright and fear.
Steadfast we stand, all shield-to-shield—
we fate-feared folk are ne’er to yield!’
Awldano thought he had the advantage, so he wanted to press the attack quickly and shouted out a staunch, ‘Oy-oy!’
As one, his troop returned it. They repeated this twice more, and upon the third chant, they stepped towards their foes. Kardano let them bring the battle forward while the men behind him threw rocks and spears and axes. This did little to rattle Awldano’s stouthearted comrades, however, and very soon, the two sides came against one another, brought forth their weapons, and did all they could to force the opposing line apart.
After a short while, it looked as though Kardano was about to break through Awldano’s line, so he put up his spear and had his comrades step back.
‘They are faltering,’ said Kardano. ‘Do not let them rest!’
Thus, for each step Awldano’s line took backwards, Kardano’s took one forwards. Yet despite their enthusiasm, Awldano had many hardy warriors with him. They bore Kardano’s attack with minds unmoving, and when their foes began tiring, starting their own steady retreat, it was time for them to turn the battle in their favour.
‘They have fought with courage,’ said Awldano, ‘but their points are poorly tempered. Step forth, boys! Oy-oy!’
Awldano’s troop returned his cry once more and renewed the attack. Thus, for each step Kardano’s line took backwards, Awldano’s took one forwards. They laid into their foes with such relentlessness that Kardano’s fighters began huddling together, each man eager not to be the fellow at the front, each trying to stand behind someone else’s shield. They only squashed themselves closer and closer together, until, when they were much too tightly knit to fight, or even to move, some of those in the front row were knocked over, and they all fell into one another.
Panic followed thereafter, whereupon Kardano knew the battle was as good as lost. He did all he could to rally his comrades, to steel their resolve, but he knew his efforts would come to nothing. His line broke, and the larger part of his troop fled the scene.
Thalo was the first to break away in pursuit. When he saw his foes falter before him, when he heard Kardano let up his voice in vain, he recognised a most fortuitous opportunity to show his worth. As the men of Samnew turned their backs, he clutched his spear, braced his shield, and gave chase. Only then did he truly inhabit himself. Only then did he yield to the rising violence that welled within his heart and let loose the whole tumult of the sea in one dreadful wave. And he was enraptured, that war-wooed man! He leapt after the men of Samnew with fervour, cutting down any fellow he could put within reach of his spear, and all with the sort of lusty glee one might expect to find in a man past his prime being offered comforts thought long lost.
This most brazen display was sufficient to embolden his comrades, and a great many of them joined him in rushing after their foes. Awldano bade them all come back, to reform the line and see the battle through to a nobler end, but the vim of victory was already hot in their blood. They tore through the town bringing their weapons against anyone who might bring one against them, and even a few poor folk who happened only to be in the way.
But where his comrades stopped often to take whatever booty their foes might yield, there was no wealth, no gem nor jewel, nor any treasure at all that could bring Thalo to a halt. So long as his hand yet gripped his spear, greater joys lay ahead of him. Indeed, his passion did not subside until he chased a man into a shrine on the edge of the town. Within, a pair of priests stood aghast as the poor man fell cowering upon the altar, crying and begging for mercy, and as Thalo drove his spear hard through his chest.
‘You villain!’ said the first priest, and he went to cradle the dying man.
The second priest drew his beltknife and said, ‘You have stained our altar with blood, and have likewise stained your honour. Get out of here!’
Thalo did not move just yet. He stood still, watching the first priest lift the man off the altar. He lowered him to the floor, knelt beside him, and held him gently as he died in his arms.
The second priest took another step forward, his knife out before him, and said, ‘I will not warn you again, man.’
After staring a moment longer at the blood on the altar, at the day’s final triumph, Thalo said, ‘The wind blows.’
Then he left the shrine house.
* * *
Despite the flight—and the slaughter—of many of his troop, Kardano himself remained stalwart. He rallied his firmest friends and fought on. Awldano’s own troop was now similarly diminished in number, and though both sides fought with dignity, fair-handed fate awarded the victory to the nobler man.
When Kardano alone yet clutched his shield, all his comrades having died or fled, he cast it aside, fell to his knees, and shook off his mail shirt.
‘I am defeated,’ he said, ‘but there is no greater honour for me than to die in defence of my kinsman. Come forth, Awldano, and put an end to this.’
Awldano bowed his head. He drew Gantewre from its sheath and stabbed him through the chest. Kardano fell to the floor, and there he died.
Only then did Awldano turn his back to reckon the losses. They numbered twelve in all, but the weight that settled upon his heart was much the heavier, for there among the dead lay Kolmago and Fenneo both. They had been at the back of the troop, but after Kardano’s line broke and Awldano’s peeled away in pursuit, they found themselves rather closer to the front. Fenneo fell first, his neck spear-struck, and he collapsed, gargling out the last of his life.
Kolmago dropped to his knees and wrapped his hands around his face.
‘Fenneo,’ he said, ‘this is no time for napping! Fenneo, awake!’
As he said this, another spear found its way between the shields and into his neck just the same. Kolmago fell atop his friend, and he died.
‘Alas,’ said Awldano, ‘that I must count you two among us.’
Then he swallowed his grief and began gathering the dead.
* * *
But what of Trewgeo? Although he retreated from the site of the battle before it began, he had lingered by the hall to watch, confident that Kardano would claim the victory without any trouble at all. Thus, when Kardano’s line broke and his fighters all fled, Trewgeo stood quite bewildered. His bewilderment turned to terror, however, when he spotted a handful of warriors barrelling headlong towards him amid the chaos of the rout.
‘Aiee!’ he cried, and he ran into the hall, but no safety awaited him there.
From the shadows came the flash of a sword, the glint of an eye, and forth stepped Eyge, Karvalo’s faithful servant. As Trewgeo ran past, calling out for anyone at all to defend him, she put out her leg, tripped him over, and pressed her sword against his neck.
‘Get away from me!’ said Trewgeo.
‘No,’ said Eyge, and she held him there.
After a moment, a gang of Trewgeo’s thanes burst into the hall, ready to defend their lord. At their front stood Yorvadho, tall and beautiful.
‘Return our lord to us,’ he said, ‘and we will pursue no further violence.’
‘No,’ said Eyge, and nothing more.
‘Come, we have you outmatched.’
At that moment, those men who were rushing up to the hall came through the door, and they numbered five or six more than those behind Yorvadho.
‘Now tell me,’ said Eyge, ‘do you still wish to fight for this wretch?’
‘You do!’ said Trewgeo. ‘Fight! Make good your oaths and fight for me!’
But Yorvadho looked between the men behind him, and those before him, and he sighed.
‘When all is said and done,’ he said, ‘I am beholden only to the course of fate, as are we all. One day it will claim me, and I will lament my oaths as my dying breath is drawn from my breast, as my mind fills with longing and regret. But that will not be today.’ He sheathed his sword, took off his helmet, and knelt upon the floor. ‘Today, I am done.’
His companions all followed suit.
‘Treachery!’ said Trewgeo. ‘Where is your honour? Where is your mettle? Fight for me! Fight!’
Eyge pressed her sword closer to Trewgeo’s neck, quieting him, and she said, ‘You men are wise indeed. In return for your surrender, I offer you this advice: gather your families and leave this place at once. I do not expect my lord will fancy keeping you here.’
Yorvadho arose and said, ‘I have forsaken my lord. It is only fitting that I should likewise forsake the hall in which I served him. Perhaps I can atone for this elsewhere.’
Then he led his comrades out of the hall, and out of the story.
Eyge now moved away from Trewgeo. He immediately jolted upwards, but her companions set upon him, bound him in rope, stuffed his mouth, and dragged him outside. There they found Awldano overseeing the gathering of the dead, Thalo beside him—he had just come back from the murder-shrine—and brought Trewgeo to them. Eyge asked Awldano if he wished to speak with him, but he said he did not.
‘I want nothing more,’ said Awldano, ‘than to be done with this.’
And so it was. Awldano took Thalo and seven others back to Pearmol the same day. They commandeered three large wains from the locals and loaded them with four of the dead each, as well as all the booty they had looted from Trewgeo’s thanes. Awldano rode at the front, with Trewgeo being dragged by his ankles behind his horse, crying out all the while.
The rest of his company stayed at Samnew for a little while, as did Eyge. With their help, Odwala and Oze took control of the hall, whereafter they set about making arrangements with those of Trewgeo’s retinue who had neither died nor fled. On the day after the battle, Odwala summoned an assembly of the foremost folk of Samnew, and she bade them accept her as their lord. They were reluctant, but when Rogyoro, the Steward of Syarglad, and a man who commanded much respect, came striding into the hall and spoke on her behalf, they put their doubts aside.
Thus did Odwala succeed to the Lordship of Samnew.