XLIV
When Karvalo learnt the purpose of the king’s tour, he deemed the whole affair to be very iffy and summoned a meeting of his allies to discuss the matter. They convened on the day of the summer lights at a town called Oyfnawl, in the south-west of his domain, and those in attendance were thus: Karvalo, Lord of Pearmol; Yarnaga, Lord of Syornes; Ewglena, Lord of Knessyar; and Awldano, Lord of Samnew. They were also joined by a man named Rodholo, the Steward of Oyfnawl, whom Karvalo hoped would soon become a lord in his own right, but more will be said of him in due course. Together they resolved to refuse the king, just as they had his brother three years prior.
‘But do not let this be grounds for poor hospitality,’ said Karvalo. ‘He will surely visit each of us, begging for our support. You must each feed him well and keep him warm, then send him on his way. After all, Rodholo must have his writ.’
This they all agreed, and after they had shared in the autumn feast the next day, they went home.
A short while after his return to Samnew, Awldano summoned a meeting of his own, attended by the foremost members of his retinue. They were Thalo, Ormana, Odwala, Foyva, Oze, and Eyge. Awldano told them about the king’s tour, and that he and his allies had agreed not to support his expedition into Norlonn.
‘We should expect the king to visit,’ he said, ‘though I cannot say when. As it stands, he has no legal right to draft my retinue into this matter against my will, and thus he shall not. I have chosen to forewarn you all today, that when the time comes, we can be as one.’
Then Awldano asked them to state their understanding. Each of Ormana, Odwala, Foyva, and Eyge said they understood, but Thalo and Oze were more hesitant.
‘If that is what you mean to do,’ said Oze, ‘I suppose I should get behind it. But know this, Awldano, my gracious lord: if ever you change your mind, your foremost warrior stands ready to fight.’
Awldano thanked Oze for their get-up-and-go, but he assured them his mind would not be changed.
Thalo was the last to speak. He said, ‘Tell me, Awldano, who decided this? Was it you, or did your father decide for you?’
‘We decided this jointly,’ said Awldano, ‘as peers and allies.’
‘Peers and allies? Believe that if you wish, but that is not the nature of your relationship. Karvalo is a shrewd and callous man. He sees in people only what he can get out of them, and in you he sees a dutiful son too soft to defy him. I have suffered this dishonour as best I can, but my patience is wearing thin.’
‘What would you have me do?’
‘Whatever you like. There is more for you—more for us—than to be your father’s lackeys. I am willing to fight for you, for your honour and your glory—willing and eager.’
‘And I am grateful for your willingness, but my decision has been made. Tell me you understand, Thalo, and we can be done here.’
So the room fell silent, all eyes upon Thalo. They awaited his response, but he offered none and left with a huff.
‘I will go to him,’ said Ormana.
‘No,’ said Awldano. ‘This is our quarrel, and we two shall settle it.’
‘Awldano, do not mistake my honesty for discourtesy, but the two of you will settle nothing. Thalo is much too stubborn, and you are much too patient.’
Then Ormana left the room, and Awldano adjourned the meeting.
Ormana found Thalo where he always went after his marital squabbles—the treasury. There he stood longingly beneath Awldano’s ancestral helmet, mounted where once the axe Fedhewve had hung.
Without greeting him, Ormana said, ‘You have some nerve, muck man.’
‘Why are you saying this?’ said Thalo.
‘Ask yourself the same.’
‘Ormana, Awldano is dishonouring himself, and I will not stand for it.’
‘Then sit down and look around you. As far as I can see, his lordship has thus far been quite commendable.’
‘But his lordship is not his own.’
‘Nor was it ever to be—Karvalo put him here himself. We all must make sacrifices.’
‘No. Say nothing more of sacrifice. I have sacrificed more than you realise. If things go on as they are, I will have sacrificed all that I am owed, all that I seek, and for what? To sit by as Awldano dances for his father? Where is the glory in that?’
‘Need there be any? Would it not be enough just to dance with him? Be it soon or far ahead, the song will end, and there will be no more dancing then.’
Then Ormana left him. He and Awldano did not address the matter that day, and they went to bed with little said between them.
The next morning, before Awldano had so much as risen from his bedplace, Thalo swallowed his pride and offered up an apology.
‘I find myself increasingly apprehensive,’ he said. ‘Your father and I have long been at odds, but I have suffered him with dignity. He should be glad for that. I have known men of his ilk before, and I have killed them. When first we came here, I hoped I might finally be free of him, but now that such a freedom seems closer than ever, the weight of having not yet reached it is all the heavier. How cruel it is that his presence persists even in his absence. I sometimes wish we had never come here at all, that we had instead fled into the night together, never to be seen again. But here we are, and I must bear it.’
Awldano said, ‘I meant to decline the lordship, but you bade me accept it. Now I am glad to hold this house with honour, while you wish to flee. How cunning fate is.’
Thalo did not share his amusement. ‘That is not where we are. I urged you to become a mighty lord, not your father’s choicest lamb. I came here to be your sword and shield, the dispenser of your judgement, not some lapdog you keep for cuddles. You are Awldano, a son of Kawo, a son of the gods, and I am Thalo Thennelo, a man of glory, a violent man. We are better than this.’
Awldano got out of the bed, took Thalo’s hand in his own, and said, ‘I did not marry Thennelo. I married you, Thalo, you who can be so much more than any sword or shield. What more glory is there to want? If glory is but blood for blood’s sake, I want none of it—none for myself, and none for you.’ He kissed Thalo’s hand. ‘I love you, Thalo, more than anyone. I want you here with me, not dying in the mud for glory’s sake.’
But Thalo stood up, freed his hand from Awldano’s, and said, ‘And I want to fight for you. That is my glory, my destiny, and I will have it, come swords and axes! When you bade fate bring forth calamity, was that not your vow?’
‘I swore to suffer whatever hardship might come, not to seek it out.’
‘And I swore otherwise.’
Then Thalo left the room. He spent the rest of the day moping about, until the afternoon brought into his possession a small cask of wine. That was a gift Karvalo had given to Awldano upon his succession to the lordship, to be saved for a special occasion.
‘And what specialer occasion can there be,’ said Thalo, ‘than the occasion of my desire?’ He was not well known for his drinking, but he had known some drunkards before, and they were generally all very satisfied with themselves. ‘Tell me, cask, what healing magic hides within your swell?’
So he made off with the wine and a cup. He crept around to the back of the hall, and sitting there alone, he took one sip, winced at the bitterness, and could not bring himself to have any more. He nevertheless remained slumped against the wall until a good while later, and until he was alone no longer.
Ormana had not seen him all day, and looking out to the sea, she feared he may have gone in search of his father, or hers. She was glad, then, when she found him hunched behind the hall. He welcomed her, though he did not stand, and offered her a drink.
‘There is plenty more to be had,’ he said.
Despite being among the foremost members of the household, her life at Samnew had thus far been a lonesome one. She had no kin there, and though Awldano and his thanes were polite enough, they were not at all close. Indeed, Thalo remained her only trusted friend, but even he had become ever more distant. Keen to cling to whatever joy she could, she took the cup, and each drink came more readily than the last.
She said, ‘Awldano told me what you said to him this morning. My head was ever so heavy with shame, my counsel wasted. But what did I expect? No one listens to me.’
‘Neither should you listen to him,’ said Thalo. ‘He has it wrong. I made my mother a promise, and he refuses to let me see it through.’
‘What promise is this? You have mentioned it before, and often, but you have never told me what it was. What was it?’
Thalo looked Ormana in the eye, and he said, ‘Glories to sound through the ages; everlasting life! I swore to seek it out, to do all it takes to win it for myself. There is more for me than this. There is more for me than Samnew. I need only seek it, but Awldano will not let it happen. I fear our minds are misaligned.’
Ormana chortled, and she said, ‘That seems quite silly to me.’
‘How often have we been through this, Ormana?’
‘Too often, and I daresay we will go through it again. You could do with some humility, and some gratitude.’
‘Gratitude for what? Do you not want more than to sit idly in this house?’
Ormana sighed. ‘What more is there to want? This house is warm enough.’
They paused for a moment. There was always more, Thalo thought, another foe to vanquish, more treasure to claim, but that would not convince Ormana. With much to prove, with vindication to be won, Thalo said, ‘Tell me, are you not lonely?’
Ormana said, ‘Be quiet.’
‘No. You pretend otherwise, but I know what I can see. That is fair enough. Your father is dead, your brother dead, your mother might as well be. You have no husband, no children, no friends. You have no one. Do you not want more?’
Ormana put down her cup and said, ‘I have you.’
He was not all she had, but Thalo shushed her before she could account for anything more. He wiped a tear from her cheek, then stood up, offered her a hand, and said, ‘You have me.’
Ormana understood. She loved him dearly—he had long been a cherished friend—but not like that. Or, at least, so she thought, but how could she know? Perhaps there was yet more for her. Perhaps she would be alone no longer. She took his hand, stood up, and kissed him, and their lips had barely parted before their business was underway. I will not say what happened next, except that the indecency of it was matched only by its brevity. After only a moment, Ormana stepped away.
‘Thalo!’ she said. ‘You prickard! Back off!’
Thalo did that. He sat himself back down by the wall, and with a prideful smile he said, ‘There is always more.’
But Ormana wanted none of it. She took a moment to collect herself, and then she said, ‘Consider what we have done here. I will say nothing of this, but you must tell Awldano what has happened. Swear it, Thalo.’
Only then did Thalo fully appreciate the situation, and his mind flitted back through the years to one spring evening at Gawslad long ago. Who would weep for him? If no one else, Awldano would. He must.
‘No.’
Ormana said, ‘Thalo, he is your husband.’
‘And so he shall remain. We will say no more of this, and all will be well.’
‘Do it, Thalo, or I shall do it for you.’
Then Ormana rushed away, leaving Thalo still slouched by the wall. And as he sat there, he thought he glimpsed some movement around the corner, like a black shadow shuffling in the twilight, sniffing around for trouble.
‘He is watching,’ he said, and he arose. He came forth, but when he turned the corner, he saw nothing. ‘He is waiting.’
Thalo did not tell Awldano anything about his time with Ormana. Instead, he came to him that evening and apologised for his previous, failed apology, and for stealing his special wine, and also for hiding from him all day.
‘Say nothing of that,’ said Awldano. ‘You are here now, and wine can be made anew. In truth, I am not blameless in this matter. You came to me with humility, and I challenged it. For that, Thalo, I too must apologise. Let us lay the matter aside.’
So they kissed and went to bed.
Thalo tried to avoid Ormana the next day, but she likewise did all she could to corner him. When finally she got him alone, she asked him whether he had told Awldano about the day prior. Thalo said he had not.
‘There is no need for it,’ he said. ‘The matter is resolved.’
‘Thalo,’ said Ormana, ‘you must tell him, and the sooner the sounder. You two are one, your bonds fate-fast. To tarry is to toy with fate itself, and fate alone decides the way of things.’
‘And fate is on my side.’ Thalo put his hand on Ormana’s arm ‘I ought have heeded you sooner, but let me heed you now. Awldano is more precious to me than anything. I have taken that for granted, but no more. Ormana, give me this chance. Let us each turn away from our shame and walk on. Let nothing come of it.’
Ormana smiled weakly, and she said, ‘Very well. Let nothing come of it.’
Then Thalo thanked her, and she left him. Though things remained very awkward between them for a spell, neither said anything more of their ill deed, and nothing came of it. That is, not for a while. Time passes as time does, and though Thalo thought otherwise, none can foretell what conniving fate will bring.