"And who be you?" Tancred demanded.
Alcide stood erect, it was all he could do having come to this sorry pass.
"I am Alcide of Pellême, Irongron was my feudal Lord!" he spoke loudly. "As Offo was his."
At first, this sounded as if he was underlining that his battle against Tancred was lawful and as it should be: for there was nothing worse in Saskian custom, than rebelling against or refusing to serve one's feudal overlord, to whom one had sworn fealty.
However, in his next statement, he intimated something quite different.
"I only ask one boon, Tancred, a priest: for I have need to be shriven of my sins before you execute me and I stand in judgement before Ceros himself. For know ye that Irongron had planned rebellion against Offo, for which shameful act he was struck down by Ceros on the field this day, and I, for following him, although it was my duty to obey my Lord, am captured and not even allowed the honour of dying in battle."
He shut up then: awaiting Tancred's reply, to see how stood the lie of the land.
"The only law I recognize is the law of the sword"
"I am Alcide of Pellême, Irongron was my feudal Lord!" the prisoner spoke loudly. "As Offo was his."
Tancred nodded, he well understood expected feudal obligations. He had vassals and could and did demand they fight for his causes. So he held nothing personal against this man. He had fought on the losing side, this day at least. But then the man continued and said more than he would have ever needed to
"I only ask one boon, Tancred, a priest: for I have need to be shriven of my sins before you execute me and I stand in judgement before Ceros himself. For know ye that Irongron had planned rebellion against Offo, for which shameful act he was struck down by Ceros on the field this day, and I, for following him, although it was my duty to obey my Lord, am captured and not even allowed the honour of dying in battle."
Tancred smirked and commented to some of his own vassal knights gathered about him, "Well Irongron was an ambitious one. Had not even won this battle when he was planning to fight another one against his lord. But then that is the sort of man Offo gathers about him."
"Short lived rebellion," remarked Arnaud, holding one chainmail mitten against his side, he had sustained a slash that broke some links of his armor though nothing too serious. Unless the wound festers.
"Untie the man, soldier," Tancred now commanded, seeing the look of frustration on the fellow's face, he added, "I will pay you for him, fear not." It was important the army got it's share of loot.
"Very well, Alcide of Pelleme, you may see a priest on your own time later but I am releasing you now. However, in return I expect you to owe me a boon. I am going to give you a cask to take back to your false king. Inside will be Irongron's head. You must swear an oath you will oblige me in this."
Tancred smirked and commented to some of his own vassal knights gathered about him, "Well Irongron was an ambitious one. Had not even won this battle when he was planning to fight another one against his lord. But then that is the sort of man Offo gathers about him."
Alcide kept his mouth shut. Let them exult. Irongron had planned his rebellion months ago, it was only Offo's move to take the fortress at Greyfalls that had stirred Tancred into action and forestalled the revolt. It was almost as if Offo knew something was afoot. The rebels had taken every precaution to keep their machinations secret, but Offo seemed to have almost supernatural abilities when it came to intelligence gathering: then again, everybody said his daughter was a witch.
That was another thing Alcide was careful not to mention: for common report had it that Tancred had given the girl a good seeing to before sending the ransomed daughter back to her father, and trafficking with a witch was not good for anybody's reputation, man, woman or child. It mattered not that Offo, upon hearing these rumours, had the girl Fredegund examined by wise women, or that her maidenhead was found virgo intactus.
Tancred had Alcide of Pellême untied and the man rubbed his wrists while he listened carefully to the victorious warlord's words. He was relieved to have his life, but at what cost? he wondered.
"Very well, Alcide of Pelleme, you may see a priest on your own time later but I am releasing you now. However, in return I expect you to owe me a boon. I am going to give you a cask to take back to your false king. Inside will be Irongron's head. You must swear an oath you will oblige me in this."
"You have my word, Tancred." Alcide replied simply. You could make complicated vows or swear on the Book of Ceros or make your sign on a dozen vellum parchments: but in this region of Aereth, the spoken oath of a knight was the safest bond of all.
It were well, the defeated warrior concluded: for if his message to Offo had got through, one of the King's many sons might be on his way here even now with a host of knights at his back, and he would not want to be caught in Tancred's camp should such a force prevail. As it was, however, he faced a very uncertain future, once in the Kingling's hands.
"The only law I recognize is the law of the sword"
It had been a stirring victory, yes. But it turned out not to be a decisive one. Tancred pushed hard to capitalize on his success since it would take Offo's defeated army a period of time to reorganize. However while a few villages were burned by his raiders, little loot was gained from it. And the first walled town he came to closed it's gates and refused an offer to surrender. That meant it would be necessary to make a siege of it. Tancred knew how it worked, he had even had a few successful sieges in his storied career. But it was not his kind of warfare and he had had more than his share of failures too. But the biggest drawback was a loss of momentum.
It only got worse the next few days as bad weather moved in, rain and lots of it. His siege train, slow on the best of roads, got bogged down in the mud on it's plodding way toward the now surrounded town. And then came the final nail in the coffin, it seemed there was some sort of disease inside the town. A plague mayhaps? Did he even want to take the place now? It was not even that big or important enough town. Tancred fretted and the evening's debate amongst a council of his captains was a contentious one.
In the end Tancred decided to call off the siege and fall back to his own borders. It was the nature of war in Sask for this sort of back and forth campaigning. His defiance of Offo would continue, the war would go on.
As the army fell back, covered by a vigilant rear guard of light cavalry, there was yet more news. A diplomatic mission was arriving from Offo's capital. Tancred was certain it was not a capitulation by that man, in truth Offo had been dealt a setback but was far from truly defeated. So what did this portend? It could not hurt to hear them out, Tancred decided.
That evening, he received them inside his tent.
Tancred's trusty tent guard, so often heard but seldom seen, cried out the approaching party: not a large one by any means, for so important a task; but in Offo's mind, small could be beautiful, and he wanted to send a delegation which could not fall out and disagree with itself: a single peace-broker beholden to neither himself nor Tancred, and who had no axe to grind with either party. Even the scant, but effective, guard who had scared away thieves and the scattered defeated soldiers upon the dangerous road from the 'Royal' capital at Great Orm was not one of Offo's men, for instead of his Dragon Rampant Sable on a Field Or they bore a battered red kite-shaped scutcheon decorated with a strange wavy cross of Ceros, argent. The casque and the pulled up coif hid the knight's face from both sword stroke and inquisitive gaze.
"The Priest Ancelin, Abbot of Torbain, and a strange knight!" called the guard as the two figures, one religious, the other martial, entered through the flaps.
"Ahhhh, Greetings Lord Tancred, greetings my son! Ceros bless you!" the little fellow, clad in the simplest of monk's habits, beamed genially as he entered, making the sign of Ceros in the air. "It is many a year since I visited you last in fair Sartell! And how fares your pretty little daughter erm... Safiya! Yes, fair Safiya, why she must be quite the grown woman, now!" he chuckled. Ancelin had been careful to get the name right, and not confound the man's living daughter with she who had died in Offo's care. Tancred might well be the most hardened warrior and the most feared general in Sask, but he was, was he not, a father; with, even in these rougher times, a father's grief for a lost child.
"My Lord Tancred, permit me to introduce this brave knight, who hath, for my protection, beaten off those vagabonds and footpads who infest our roads like vermin, and saved my unworthy skin many a time upon the journey hither from The Orm, and who, by chance, has a burning question for your good self which I would fain have answered before we start to discuss this most unfortunate misunderstanding between yourself and Offo, the two most powerful Lords of our poor benighted land."
The mailed knight, whose hauberk was rusty with exposure to the elements and the workings of rain, sleet and blood on iron, stepped forward and unhooked the coif of mail from the nosepiece of the casque, and pulled the helmet off to reveal a pale and determined face beneath.
"My Lord Tancred, I am Audovera, sister of Rigunth. I would hear any news of my sister, who common report has dead by your hand or a prisoner in your stronghold at Sartell."
"The only law I recognize is the law of the sword"
"Ahhhh, Greetings Lord Tancred, greetings my son! Ceros bless you!" the little fellow, clad in the simplest of monk's habits, beamed genially as he entered, making the sign of Ceros in the air. "It is many a year since I visited you last in fair Sartell! And how fares your pretty little daughter erm... Safiya! Yes, fair Safiya, why she must be quite the grown woman, now!"
Yes, now Tancred placed him, that priest had once visited Sartell and was as affable then as he seemed to be now. His affability had not gone over well back then though for Tancred had been in a foul mood at the recent death of his wife and had been drinking rather heavily. But that was then.
"I recall, Father. Good to see you again......... I think," Tancred did not yet know what brought the fellow here.
"Yes, Safiya is grown now and in fine health. She is beautiful, she got her looks from her mother not me."
So they were familiar but now the priest needed to introduce the knight who had accompanied him. An escort no doubt. Turned out a most useful escort too as he had beaten off danger to the helpless priest.
The mailed knight, whose hauberk was rusty with exposure to the elements and the workings of rain, sleet and blood on iron, stepped forward and unhooked the coif of mail from the nosepiece of the casque, and pulled the helmet off to reveal a pale and determined face beneath.
A girl? What was it about Offo's lot that they kept allowing females to be fighters? That was a realm for men and the weaker sex should stay by the hearth fire and have and raise children.
"My Lord Tancred, I am Audovera, sister of Rigunth. I would hear any news of my sister, who common report has dead by your hand or a prisoner in your stronghold at Sartell."
The veteran warlord grunted, "Have no males in your family?" But then wanted to make something quite clear.
"Then you should not believe all that you hear. First of all Rigunth is alive and in fine fettle. But yes, she is currently residing within my keep under the care of my daughter Safiya. If you knew anything about my daughter you would know no harm will come to your sister unless she attempts some violent deed."
"Oh yes, and you should know something too about she came about her captivity. She did not surrender her stronghold, she was betrayed and handed over to me by the garrison, the mercenaries called the White Company. It was not her fault the place fell. Offo does not know how to recruit men who can be trusted it seems."
"Have you no males in your family?" asked the Warlord brusquely. The answer from the martial looking woman was no less blunt.
"Not since you killed my father Aitard in battle, and Offo executed my brothers on a trumped up charge of treason, My Lord." she replied, eyes blazing, as she pulled back her coif, revealing that her hair was a black and her skin as pale as Rigunth's, but that her eyes were as brown as his own daughter's. "I must needs know if, as is common report, my sister's life has been added to the tally."
"Then you should not believe all that you hear. First of all Rigunth is alive and in fine fettle. But yes, she is currently residing within my keep under the care of my daughter Safiya. If you knew anything about my daughter you would know no harm will come to your sister unless she attempts some violent deed."
Despite her strong and proud bearing, the armoured woman sagged for a second with relief and her lips were seen to mutter a silent prayer of thanks to Ceros. Those obsequies done, she dragged her eyes up to meet Tancred's and uttered a simple "Thank you. You need not fear, my sister is a peaceful maiden."
"Oh yes, and you should know something too about she came about her captivity. She did not surrender her stronghold, she was betrayed and handed over to me by the garrison, the mercenaries called the White Company. It was not her fault the place fell. Offo does not know how to recruit men who can be trusted it seems."
The mail-clad warrioress shot a frown at Father Ancelin and then back to Tancred, declaring with some heat "On the contrary, My Lord, I believe that Offo..." But the priest cut her off with a wave of his hand.
"All right, very well, very well, Sister! You have had your question answered, now I bid you go hither and test Lord Tancred's patience no further. Go and find some food and drink and rest, for I fear that your sword-arm will have further work to do on the road back to Orm once his Lordship and I have finished our little chat." the little man commanded, and the woman, who looked like she could probably slice his head off e'en as she drew her sword, complied obediently.
"Yes Father" she bowed her head and then looked once more at Tancred "I thank you again, My Lord."
"Yes, yes, farewell." Father Ancelin shooed her out and then turned a beady eye on Tancred "Hmm, my apologies for that preamble to our discussions, and Sister Audovera's passion... I have, on our journey, tried not to listen too closely to her tales of Offo, she is clearly biased against the man, and with good reason. She was, too, to have been executed, but managed to strangle her guard, Ceros rest his soul, and escape to the Northlands of Falconia. Since then she has joined a new religious order, The Lay Sisters of the Hospital of Saint Bozhena. They are a rather outlandish gaggle of warrior nuns who attempt to protect travellers and pilgrims, in the way that the overmighty order of the Temple were supposed to, before they became too overmighty for their own boots!" he chuckled.
"The only law I recognize is the law of the sword"
So HE killed this girl's father in battle? Well, if she expected him apologizing for it, that's what happens in war. He had, over the years, killed many men and ordered the deaths of many more when he sent his troops in battle and that was not counting those he had executed for crimes. He was a warlord and warlords were killers. Apparently Offo contributed to her family's toll of loses. Another abject lesson in not pledging loyalty to that tyrant. Well at least he could set her mind at ease about Rigunth, she was alive and in good hands.
"Thank you. You need not fear, my sister is a peaceful maiden," Rigunth's sister claimed.
"Well, she certainly did not seem to be a garrison commander," was all Tancred would comment on the whole thing.
The priest now wanted the girl out of the tent so the real important business could commence.
"Hmm, my apologies for that preamble to our discussions, and Sister Audovera's passion... I have, on our journey, tried not to listen too closely to her tales of Offo, she is clearly biased against the man, and with good reason. She was, too, to have been executed, but managed to strangle her guard, Ceros rest his soul, and escape to the Northlands of Falconia. Since then she has joined a new religious order, The Lay Sisters of the Hospital of Saint Bozhena. They are a rather outlandish gaggle of warrior nuns who attempt to protect travellers and pilgrims, in the way that the overmighty order of the Temple were supposed to, before they became too overmighty for their own boots!
"Never heard of them, sounds like some foreigner nonsense," Tancred dismissed that subject.
"Get to the point, priest. Why are you here?" he demanded impatiently.
Yes Father" she bowed her head and then looked once more at Tancred "I thank you again, My Lord."
He grunted but just before she exited the tent he called out, "If you give your word of honor, I can provide you with an escort guaranteeing safe passage to my castle. And you could visit your sister. But any attempt to free her would be most unwise."
"Well, she certainly did not seem to be a garrison commander," was all Tancred would comment on the whole thing.
The Hospitaller bridled at this "My sister was raised as a lady; she may lack martial knowledge, but I defy you to claim that she did not act with bravery! And if she has been forced to yield, rescue or no rescue, she would never impunge her honour by being party to any escape!" Father Ancelin bundled the woman out of the tent before things got heated and proceeded with his mission after first explaining the small order of military nuns to which the strident young woman belonged.
"Never heard of them, sounds like some foreigner nonsense," Tancred dismissed that subject.
"Ahhh, by no means, my son" intoned the Holy man "...for Saint Bozhena was a saskian maiden, most beautiful, devout and pure, an early convert to Ceros whom one of our pagan ancestors, King Rollu, attempted to force into apostacy and marriage with his loathsome self. Rather than renounce her faith, she chose impalement. They carried that chaste and holy girl to a sharpened stake, and shoved it right up her..."
"Get to the point, priest. Why are you here?" he demanded impatiently.
"Ah yes, I bring a letter from Offo" he pulled it from his robes and handed it over. He doubted the man could read and wondered if he would get him to read it, or if he had a tame and learned minion he might call in. Assuming he didn't just rip the thing to shreds, of course.
Either way, the missive read thusly, and was full of fanciful titles, all of which would have been novelties to the Warlord's ears:
"To Tancred, Duke of Eastern Sask, Greetings, from Offo, by the grace of Ceros, King of Upper Sask.
In recognition of your high services in ridding this realm of that most unworthy and treacherous of traitors, formally know as Irongron, Count of Curtaine, we formally recognise your suzerainty over the aforementioned County, and bestow upon you the hand of our daughter, the most gracious, and legitimate, Princess Adeliza.
Offo
By my own hand, this Seventh Day of the Fifth Moon, by the calendar in the year Twelve hundred and Fifty."
Say what you like about Offo, at least he could write his own letters.
"The only law I recognize is the law of the sword"
Tancred had called out an offer to the girl.......for put armor on her and a weapon but she was still just a girl in his opinion, that she could go visit her sister. However she ignored it. Well, he had made the effort. It was nothing to him if the opportunity was not taken. It was on to other more important things. His focus went back to the priest.
"Ah yes, I bring a letter from Offo" the holy man pulled it from his robes and handed it over.
Tancred accepted it with a dubious expression on his gruff features. And the priest was wrong, he could indeed read. When you were a ruler, such a skill was important in administering one's state. Not everything could be done by voice. He opened it and began reading.
"To Tancred, Duke of Eastern Sask, Greetings, from Offo, by the grace of Ceros, King of Upper Sask.
In recognition of your high services in ridding this realm of that most unworthy and treacherous of traitors, formally know as Irongron, Count of Curtaine, we formally recognise your suzerainty over the aforementioned County, and bestow upon you the hand of our daughter, the most gracious, and legitimate, Princess Adeliza.
Offo
By my own hand, this Seventh Day of the Fifth Moon, by the calendar in the year Twelve hundred and Fifty."
"He gives me something not his to give - for he is no king, never was, never will be. And then expects I will take one of his trollops into my household as a wife?" Tancred scoffed as he then scrunched up the paper into a ball and let it drop to the ground.
"Tell me, just how hideous is this daughter of his or is she brain addled, that he is so eager to give her away?"
His rough soldiery around him got a chuckle out of that. One of them, Reynald, spoke up, "If you do not wish her, m'lord, my brother would gladly take her. You know Rollo? He's the blind one, with the club foot."
More laughter why even Tancred had to smile, a little.