35
Ætharr inhaled the cold air as he left his Hall and went into the forest where he had killed his first adder.
He went there in the mornings to exercise. He hated to lose his fitness or his strength. He wanted to remain fit and able for war, for it was a healthy and strong Ealdor that better united his people against an enemy. And if they were going to fight the Loptrio and the Alcax, he would need to inspire the kind of loyalty he had had while in exile.
Ætharr had never known what it truly meant to be an Ealdor. He had learned quickly, for if he did not, dire consequences would happen. But still, he felt tired and weary much more frequently than when he had been in war. War filled one with stress, but it also filled Ætharr with energy. Carrying out common duties were burdensome, however necessary.
Ætharr managed quite well to ignore his boredom and get everything done what had to be done. But it would be nice to break the tedium with some kind of raid or an attack upon his foes.
Strange, how one grows up doing one thing, then feels incomplete when he does not engage in that action or subject. Ætharr had prepared for war all his life, when hiding in exile. Now war was in his blood; he could not ignore the fact that he enjoyed it at times. It was exhilarating to lead an army of loyal soldiers into battle, with the sun and the glory shining down upon you.
But this was not the issue. Ædall had just returned after helping Craterus and Derfel, the new Ealdors, become properly established in their reigns. Craterus was a good creature, and Ætharr knew that in the coming seasons, he would rely on Craterus' charisma as a leader and also his strength as a warrior. Derfel was not so much as promising as Craterus, but was an able creature and would serve as a good defender of the country while the main army went to war.
The coin system was now fully established. Jinn continued to produce coins at a steady, organized rate to ensure there was not a surplus of coins or a lack of it. It took a careful thinker to plan this strategy out, and Jinn was more than capable for the job.
But Ætharr was concerned for Rosheen and his children. It wouldn't be long before his sons would have to partake in the necessary measures to become true Calador weasels. And what of Nuala, his little daughter? He adored her as much as her brothers, but knew that her education would be best learned from her mother. Rosheen, who had wielded a pike at the siege of Brocovar, who had led the Falcarragh tribe to battle, would instill the warrior spirit in Nuala so that if the time came, she would manage the care taking of the land of Calador efficiently.
Meanwhile, it was the cool morning, and the sun was an hour away from rising as Ætharr performed his daily exercise, first completing a distance running, then a series of weightlifting, and finally a practice in bow, axe, and spear.
The exercise always gave Ætharr a ravenous appetite, and he would come back in time to have a large breakfast waiting for him. Today was no different, and after his workout, the Ealdor returned to his Hall, tucking away happily while the rest of Æthelly's population was just getting up.
Æthelly did not produce much food. There were few farms nearby, and so they imported most of their food from other regions of Calador. What the capital served as was a base for the Ealdor, a rallying for the army, and a production of tools and weapons. Many merchants and crafts mammals started here to begin their trades.
Ætharr knew his capital city, the city of his birth, like it was his own right paw. He could get around if he were blindfolded, and it comforted him to be within this city.
But he knew he had to go speak with Viggo today. As much as he despised the old, crippled weasel, he knew that he needed Viggo's intelligence and his support.
Ætharr hated Viggo especially due to a conversation he had had with the weasel at a council back when Calador was still infested with Millar gangs. It had been only a day after Ætharr had married Rosheen.
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He had headed out to the southern part of Calador, where Viggo's theignship faced the long road towards Southsward. In between the two kingdoms, there were numerous obstacles, one of which was the Kala tribe, the most southern based clan of them all. They were insignificant compared to the threat of the Loptrio tribe and the Alcax tribe, so Ætharr did not often look to the south.
But this time, he and an escort of Rojo and nine others of the Royal Guard headed down to where a meeting had been organized. Lanvor, on his master's orders was keeping a low profile, keeping a silent, unnoticed watch over Ætharr's family.
In the southern region of Calador, the fyrd had somewhat degenerated. They had always been left as a garrison of the countryside, and they had not partaken in the wars against Oorlog and Ælfer. Viggo maintained a silence that protected his people from persecution, and did not take much risk.
His hall was splendid, as was the village surrounding it. It was built on a high point overviewing a small lake, while the houses were neatly built on the slope. A palisade and battlements guarded the bottom part, and with the water guarding its back, the settlement was an ideal place to withstand a siege.
Unfortunately the defences were in need of repair. Ætharr growled as he saw the lack of guards on the wall. He would have had twice the number, prepared to call an alarm and organize everyone. Clearly they had grown accustomed to soft living.
Viggo was not standing outside of his hall. Instead, there were Ulric, and Ptolemy to greet him. Ætharr had no qualms with either of them, and was especially grateful to Ulric for the weasel's assistance in the war.
But he had always regretted that Ptolemy had never become part of his most intimate circles. Certainly Ptolemy had never failed him, he had always assisted in any way he could, whether alongside Gæruff or assisting Ulric. And then when he had reunited with Ætharr in the last few weeks before the Battle of Verfluchtes Land.
A number of others were inside. There was Viggo, of course, and Keld. Keld could never look at Ætharr, especially in those days just when Ælfer's regime was being defeated. But he was still a theign, and an Ealdor needed the support of all his theigns.
There was the mightily built Craterus, who was taller than Ædall, and that in itself was no mean feat. Some might have questioned his right to be there, for at that time he had only been a captain in his uncle's fyrd, but it was made clear that he represented Cynefrid at this meeting while Cynefrid and Judos were away in the north, fighting resistance. Ætharr admired this nephew of Cynefrid, and knew even then that he ought to give Craterus some kind of status.
There was also Horal, rounding out the group, standing awkward without his sword. There was Ferric, looking fit and happy, for it had been he and Horal of all the theigns in the room that had been with Ætharr from the start. He had proven his loyalty a thousand times over, and had nothing to look forward to but good favour.
Æđelstan was present also, as were Gyras and the newly promoted Agricola. Almost all the theigns of Calador were present at this meeting.
Ætharr nodded to all of them, and sat down. They all followed suit, in respect of the Ealdor.
"So how are the borders? Any sign of the Loptrio?"
Viggo shook his head curtly, "I have not heard from any Loptrio attacks." He spoke in the sense that he was only telling a half-truth.
Ætharr looked at the old weasel, "You have something to add on?"
"It seems to me that you do not fear much from the Kala tribe."
"Why should I be concerned about them?"
"The Loptrio bribed the Alcax tribe to work with them. They can do it again. We will be surrounded by enemies."
Horal looked up in confusion. He had not understood Viggo's subtle message, "We'd have the Falcarragh as a partial barrier from the Loptrio, and even if you add in the Alcax and the Kala tribes, that would only be a half-circle..." His voice trailed away as he realized what Viggo was implying.
Ætharr had understood it instantly, "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
Viggo wrinkled his nose, "This whole problem started when you married Rosheen. It was a ridiculous move altogether, and a thorough disrespect to your country!" With the last word, he slammed the table surface with his paw.
Ætharr felt amused at this old fool's bigotry, "I have deep respect for the Falcarragh tribe, and to marry their chief's daughter will forge a great alliance."
Ptolemy, sitting at the opposite end of the table, leaned forward to hear all the conversations, hidden partly by shadow. The others were on either side of the rectangular triangle looking anxious at this exchange and urging themselves to speak.
Viggo grimaced, "Yes and I suppose you love her too. You seem to value this tribe chief's daughter more than the traditions that made Calador rise above the other primitive clans surrounding us. What your father would have thought if he saw you now, I do not know."
"The people of this country will not accept an outsider as the mother of the Ealdor's sons..." Keld spoke angrily.
"...then they'll learn to accept her!" Ætharr interrupted exultantly, "When I was at the siege of Brocovar, she saved my life several times, and she led the army that saved the rest of us from ruin. To this day, my uncle would be ruling you all."
"Aye, but you've both upset the balance that made us powerful. Now we drift from the proper path and mingle with the other tribes, for what? To extend our influence?" Viggo spoke up swiftly, now standing and walking towards the Ealdor.
"To make strategic alliances and welcome traders is not hurting us or our people, Viggo!" Ferric broke in indignantly.
"And what benefit does it give us, then?" Viggo retorted, turning his head towards the younger weasel.
"We have the loyalty of Ibos, Tiarnan, Kazahley, and Blackaxe! We can trade resources, improve our armies, and maybe even put an end to all the border strife between the clans once and for all!"
"If that was the solution, by the gods, we'd have done it ten generations ago!" Æđelstan broke in pompously, "Do you think there might have been a reason for our isolation? Did you not realize at all, Ferric, that our strategy has kept us alive and led us to win battles that should have been our doom?"
Gyras, the youngest person there, stared at Æđelstan, "That coming from a weasel who toadied to Ælfer is an insult to everyone in this room."
Agricola, always one to pacify, held up a paw, "I am willing to put aside the fact that Æđelstan chose to stay silent and protect his own people from being targeted by Millar rats. We must consider that some of us have children that we would wish to protect our people. They of course
Æđelstan gave a small smile, "Aye, that's why I'm still alive and sitting here, while others spoke out too boldly and had their lands ravaged and their people persecuted..."
He could say no more, for he was drowned out by the scraping of a chair being shoved back. Gyras, his face twisted in livid fury, pointed a claw at the surly weasel, "How dare you, Æđelstan! My father gave his life for his country, he was a true warrior that wouldn't be bullied by a traitor and coward. He was worth ten thousand of the likes of you, you miserable...!"
"Gyras!" Ætharr and Ulric called out, Ulric half rising from his chair. Gyras stared first at Ulric, then at the Ealdor, and slowly sat back down.
Ætharr resumed control, "These are changing times. I know some of you thought that my father would live to grow old and that I would be able to assume control of the land with more time. But this did not come to pass, and I have done what is necessary to prevent that from happening again. I will not bend to old conservative minds that may have spoken the truth before."
He paused, and looked at the theigns in turn, "But I would include you all in this future I wish to create for Calador. It will be the beginning of a new age: the true rise of our people. We will emerge not just as the superior power, but as the conquerors who attempted the unspoken of. We shall unite the tribes together, and prosper...' he paused again, 'Or they shall be faced with the option of the sword."
Ptolemy stared at Ætharr. It was surprising, but it should not have been so unexpected.
Ulric stared up at Ætharr, who had gotten up in the middle of his speech, "What are you saying, Ætharr?"
Ætharr sat back down, "I have brought peace thanks to the sword, and if I must, I will wield the sword again, harder than before, for my people."
Viggo growled, "Your father never lusted for war, or changing the order of the long seasons past."
"Damn you, Viggo! You are behaving unwisely and foolishly!" Ætharr glared at Viggo.
Viggo was not to be swayed, "Ætharr, I watched you grow up from a crying little pup. I turned a deaf ear to your snide remarks, and then was content when they were no longer uttered. I thought you had learned your lesson, and I did not favour your uncle to be Ealdor. He was a traitor, and you had to dispose of him. I don't deny that. But in the respect of those who supported you to be Ealdor,' With that he swept a paw over Ptolemy, Ferric, Agricola, and the others, even Keld and Æđelstan, "Do not put us in this direction towards our eventual downfall. To share our might is to invoke betrayal among these so-called allies you have made."
Ætharr said nothing for a long pause. No one dared to say something to break the moment. They knew that it was time to stay silent.
Finally, Ætharr nodded.
"You've been heard clearly, Viggo. We are in new worlds now, and if we do not adapt to the new world, we shall burn up in the old one."
Without giving anyone a chance to respond, he added, "Tomorrow, you will send part of your fyrd to the southeast, and assist Agricola in gaining his new theignship."
He turned to the other theigns, "After supper tonight, I shall give you all the battle strategies for tomorrow. We'll be able to drive out the Millar clan in less than a week if we all act quickly.
This ended the council, but it did not end the feelings that some theigns had harboured.
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Keld and Æđelstan were both dead now, as was Ferric. Craterus, Ptolemy, and Derfel had replaced them, and in Viggo's eyes, it was quite clear that Ætharr was wiping out opposition among his theigns by choosing those who would be most loyal to him. Of course, they were perfectly qualified for the job. There was no denying that.
Ætharr had been right though; the alliances had only benefited Calador, without inviting any permanent immigrants to Calador. Obviously, there were Judos and Rosheen and the Royal Guard, but apart from that, no non-Calador weasel lived permanently in Calador.
But what would Ætharr do when faced with such a dilemna? It was an incident that would likely cause much more debate and contrast among the theigns.