Disclaimer: This is not the final version as it will be available from the usual e-book sellers and eventually, bookstores. Rather, it should be seen as an (almost) final draft. If you are interested in becoming a beta reader, or you have any comments, suggestions or thoughts that you feel I should consider before publishing please drop me a line using the contact form.
The Duke’s Peace
They made it to the Ford Inn without any incidents, if you didn’t consider torrential rain and the resulting stuck wagons an incident. Approaching from the Taladarian side of the Iceflow river, Ford Inn held a commanding position that overlooked the ford and offered a view some miles into Taladaria as well. Viewed from this side, Ala was certain it must have been built on the foundation of a castle or some other fortification in the time when Taladaria and the Westmarch weren’t united under the same Lord. The men of the Duke’s Regiment were accustomed to travelling from chartered Inn to chartered Inn in this manner. One had to be a Master with the Innkeeper’s guild to be allowed to run one of the chartered establishments along the official routes of the Caravanners Guild. The innkeepers along the route were all obligated to provide members of the Duke’s Regiment and anyone else who could show a document from the Duke proving permission with anything they lacked. The Duke’s factor would reimburse the innkeeper in question for whatever it had cost, at fixed rates. This was all assuming that Innkeeper could get a representative to go to Peyrepertuse to fetch the money. The alternative was to wait for the factor’s yearly rounds along the Duchy’s Caravan routes for the bills to be settled.
All this knowledge of the inner workings of Taladaria’s ducal system came from Myrthe, who had encyclopedic knowledge of seemingly everything in Taldyr. Her wisdom including detailed information on the mechanisms by which the Duchy was ruled and she was also able to explain that such systems worked more or less the same way throughout Selinus and Iurrak. The Guilds played an important role in making governing large domains manageable. Only Dukes, Princes and Kings were permitted and also obligated to maintain standing military units in Iurrak. Those regiments, mandated by the King had to be supplied by the chartered Inns throughout Iurruk, even if the Regiment was not in the fief it belonged. If one of the Dirua Regiments needed to be somewhere outside Dirua, then the Inns still had to supply them.
The last stop before the river had been in Hightower. Ala hadn’t stopped there on her journey to Peyrepertuse. She had passed it by to catch up to the caravan where she had met Myrthe weeks earlier. Even Matt managed the trip with nothing more than saddle sores and regular complaints. Ala had sort of hoped that the two Royal Customs Officers she had run into during her dash across the river might still be there, but there was no sign of them. The little building on the east bank of the Iceflow was empty. Ala would have liked to talk to them and found out what had happened after she passed them by. News along the route hadn’t been heartening. Rumours and accounts gathered by Myrthe and Matt from travellers out of Thetwick, told of brutality and other incidents with increasing frequency as they approached the Westmarch.
Strangely, the Innkeepers along their route through Sheffield had all reported bandit activity along the King’s Road seemed to have decreased in recent weeks, which was hard to comprehend. Ala thought that sponsored banditry out of Oakharrow should have been something that the Count would have been more than happy to be involved in. She and Bernard had always suspected that Sheffield’s unsafe roads were the Count of Oakharrow’s doing. It wasn’t their direct problem, but she knew Bernard had reported the suspicion to the Duke several times. Why then, had banditry seemed to decline since Bernard’s death? Where had the bandits gone? She was worried it had something to do with what was going on in the Westmarch. The closer they came to the Westmarch the more people seemed relieved to see their band flying the Duke’s colours arrive, as if they were long overdue.
They forded the Iceflow, which was presumably as cold as its name suggested in this time of year. The tracks at the Ford were less than Ala was used to. The Inn looked quiet too. Trade was less than had been customary a just few weeks earlier. That too was out of the ordinary, it was the time of the year for increasing trade. The only thing that ought to slow it down was if the Iceflow grew too deep because of melt water. It wasn’t at its shallowest, but it wasn’t anything that would stop a caravan. It was another indication that not all was as it should be.
“It’s more quiet than it usually is this time of year,” said Ala.
“Surely the death of a militia Captain doesn’t normally affect trade?” Myrthe wondered.
“Shouldn’t should it? Unless that made the roads a lot less safe or something,” suggested Matt.
“Whatever the Constable has been doing since I left, might though,” Ala said.
When they rode into the Inn’s courtyard it was doubly clear that there were far fewer merchants at the Inn than there should be. The King’s Road that they had travelled from Peyrepertuse to High Tower had had its normal share of activity. Merchants must be bypassing the Westmarch, Ala decided. They were turning north at Hightower instead of continuing West to trade mounts in Thetwick as they might have only a month earlier. The stream of people and goods to and from Thetwick had obviously decreased. Aside from the lack of merchants, there were more travellers than usual, people who had belongings with them. People sometimes moved or travelled to live with family, but it was a rarity. There were quite a lot of such people at the Ford Inn, which was unusual.
“This is not normal for the Ford Inn in spring,” said Ala as she dismounted. The Inn didn’t have the vibrant look she was accustomed to seeing after the winter. It looked empty, even sad and the numerous travellers she could see weren’t engaging in any of the usual commerce.
Ala walked around the inside of the walled caravan enclosure and in a corner, under a roof that was meant for storing farm equipment, found a group of several families that were travelling with what belongings they had managed to load onto a small donkey cart. What they looked like, Ala decided, was refugees. She was about to ask a question when she realised she recognised one of them. The woman was Martha Callumsdaughter whom she’d known since the tragic day when Martha’s half sister and father had been murdered. Martha had witnessed Gordon Marchmain doing it when she was only twelve years old.
Ala had remained friendly with the woman ever since and she was now the wife of a farmer. Martha was an attractive woman in her mid thirties with auburn hair. She was wearing a rough brown dress and a green headscarf that only allowed a few wisps of her hair to escape. Ala was certain she had still lived at Piersson Steading, close to Thetwick’s southern edge, with her husband just a few weeks earlier. Ala had stopped at their farm many times to water the horses when she was riding patrols with the militia.
“Martha? Martha Callumsdaughter?”
Martha’s features changed to surprised recognition when Ala approached. “Alagariel? Truly? Whatever brings you here? It’s not safe for you, you know! You should go back to where ever you disappeared to! Not that it’s not good to see you, mind, but it really is dangerous in the Westmarch now.”
“I know it is.”
“Wait… did you just arrive with the Duke’s soldiers?”
Ala nodded, “I did. It’s good to see you though I am most alarmed to run into you here. What happened that you are here with your family and belongings? Where is Tom?”
She saw Martha’s eyes water and her lips tense up, giving Ala an unspoken answer.
Ala spoke softly, “tell me what happened?”
It was difficult for her to speak, “Tom… he died….”
“Please tell me what happened… this.. this was no accident I take it? You wouldn’t be here fleeing with your family, otherwise, I think.”
“No… he was murdered… and John and Henry too.”
Ala was shocked. Martha’s husband and two sons were both dead.
“Gods…. Martha… I’m here with the Duke’s men, we are on our way to Thetwick.”
“There is great trouble there, Ala.”
“The Duke sent us to arrest the Constable and make certain ducal authority in the Westmarch is safeguarded in future. Please tell me what happened? It’s important to know.”
“They killed Tom and my boys. They stood up to them and they killed all of them! Laughed as they did it…”
“OK, now. Take a breath… start at the beginning. Who did it? Was it the Constable?”
“They have something to do with the Constable, he calls them his ‘enforcement squad’ or summin’. From their accents, I think they’re from Oakharrow or further… and Ala…”
“What?”
“I think one of them may have been Gordon Marchmain.”
Just hearing the name made Ala’s blood boil again. Martha had seen Gordon Marchmain murder her father and sister two decades before.
“Really? You’re sure?”
“Not sure… and I’m certain he didn’t recognise me. But I think so. I remember him. When they left June and I took what we could and fled, that night, we gave Thetwick as wide a berth as we could and came here.”
“You don’t think Marchmain was back for revenge?”
“It seems not… what I’ve heard from the other… refugees… what the Oakharrowers were doing… it was the same at all the farms. When I saw him, I was frightened… but now I think he wasn’t really after me. Oakharrowers were doing the same everywhere….”
“But then… it is the new constable who has Oakharrow men in his employ? Gordon would be… his uncle would he not?”
“I think so, yes.”
“It certainly offers a clue about the connection.”
“Marchmain wasn’t their leader… when they came, they were led by a Knight, though he bore no colours. He gave the orders, though he left while they were being carried out… the man I think was Marchmain… was, a sergeant or the like.”
Things were worse than Ala had imagined possible. Ala’s mind raced. Was that why the raiders had been so good at eluding the militia? How long had the Constable been colluding with the Oakharrowers, she wondered? Could this be where all the bandits had gone?
“The Constable has brought in these soldiers from Oakharrow?”
“Yes. They have a camp around three hundred yards up the creek from Thetwick. About a week after you left, they came round the first time, Gordon and the Knight and more men. They said there had been a tax increase. Took all our best provisions, everything we had been meaning to take to market. I heard some men, militia men stood up to them, like Willard. I heard Gordon and his men killed him and those with him.”
“Gordon Marchmain killed Willard?” said Ala, shocked. Willard had been her second in the militia for years.
“I don’t know that he did, personally. I only heard talk that it was him.”
Ala took a deep breath, recovering, “Best tell me the rest.”
“Two weeks later they came again, Gordon and his men. Said it was tax time again. Tom told them no. They killed him… and my boys and… and… they took my eldest daughter, June… took turns…”
Ala felt her blood run cold. She took a deep breath to steady herself and then attempted to speak as normally as possible.
“I cannot bring your husband and sons back or reverse what happened to your daughter, Martha. I am so sorry Martha, that such tragedy has found you again. I can promise you these men will pay for what they have done and I will find Gordon Marchmain too. I know it is a poor consolation.”
Martha’s face became very intent, “I feel it will offer a little satisfaction, at least.”
Ala nodded before continuing, “Lord Caerel, the Duke’s grandson is here. Will you relate to him what you told me?”
“Lord Caerel…? He’s the Duke’s actual grandson? Truly? Yes, yes. of course I will come. But I look a state…”
“He will understand, Martha. Please come with me to the inn, we’ll find him.”
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