The Marquis by Michael O'Neill Read Free Book Online

was banished, how is it that you have her necklace.’
    Conn used her name but didn’t open his mind to her. He suspected that she wouldn’t answer anyway. He had yet to hear her speak to Kutidi after than one time.
    She nodded as she instinctively reached for the stone. ‘I am of the almost extinct house of the Healdend of Alwa – and all of us that are female wear the amulets. I was found by one of the beloved who are in hiding. Istah saves us by sending the Folgere to us instead of us going to them.’
    Derryth suddenly realized what Conn had said. ‘What did you just say – are we going to take on Gyden now as well? Haven’t we already got enough to do?’
    Efilda interrupted. ‘And what of my countrymen – do you really intend to make them theow?’
    Conn shook his head ‘No – but I want the Folgere to think so – if they make an oath of allegiance to you, they can join us here. We need all the hands we can get.’
    ~oo0oo~
    The next day a troop led by Wystan and Brys escorted the Folgere out of the village and into the hills. It would be some weeks before they would return; Brys was going to survey the pass and the surrounding area before winter finally set in.
    Conn was happy to get rid of the Folgere – the overwhelming desire to kick the life out of him was not something Conn had ever experienced. A man who had lived a life of controlled aggression – some would say violence – he never enjoyed the process – he just wanted the outcome because he wanted to test himself. He had always maintained a high level of detachment. It was both his gift and his burden. This time, he felt he would enjoy beating the Folgere to death. The thought scared him
    With the Folgere gone, the ‘prisoners’ quickly “joined” the rebellion and the extra workforce would allow him to continue expanding the village through the winter months. From them, they also learnt a lot about the current situation in Samria.  Things were not going well. The Healdend controlled his demesne with fear and oppression, and without the Ancuman mercenaries, he would have nothing. There was about three hundred of them, but more seemed to be arriving every day, including lots of cavalry, which was unusual. Consequently, he was deep in debt to them, and increasingly isolated and paranoid.
    Efilda was distraught. ‘How dare he destroy everything that our family has built? We have an obligation to our people – and after five hundred years of faithful service, my own father’s indulgences and my brother’s treachery has brought all my people to the edge of the abyss.’
    ‘It seems to me that there are usually Folgere around to help guide you away from such things. Where are yours?’ Conn had been curious that there had been no mention of Folgere and why there were even Ancuman Folgere allowed in Samria.
    The Wealdend shook her head. ‘We have none. We have a Cirice but no Folgere. I remember hearing that only one arrived on the ships with us but died before the Cirice was complete and before others could be called.’
    ‘So where are the Samrians from exactly? You said you arrived after the Casere…’
    She nodded. ‘Yes. We are from where we call the homelands. I don’t think it has a name but it was a great land that turned into hundreds of islands after the ocean rose after the “Great Darkening”.  It is where we are all from – the place where the Gyden raised all the people. We were one of the smaller tribes of the Priecuman, and our lands were disappearing. Some left to join the other tribes as theow but others decided to risk life by travelling across the ocean to the east. I was taught that a thousand ships left the homeland but two hundred were lost along the way. Ten Folgere joined us on the voyage – but only the one survived but died sometime after.’
    ‘Does the Cirice have haligdoms?’
    Efilda didn’t know what a haligdom was so that answered the question. Conn then asked if the Folgere had a colour.
    She