The Northern Enigma - Part 22

Arno awoke, being vaguely aware of some activity in the main Hall. He got up, still feeling a bit dizzy and tried to look through the narrow window above his door. It was dark outside. It still had to be in the middle of the night! Arno saw some dim lights in the rooms upstairs but nothing more than that. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t causing any big uproar. He considered shouting out to try and attract Iris’s attention, but he dismissed the idea. It would only make things worse. He had no idea if other guards were also on Brenna’s payroll. It was more than likely that he would be silenced long before he would have a chance to talk to the girl. Being unable to do anything else, he decided to lie down and try to sleep some more. Maybe it would help his headache.

It felt like he had only closed his eyes for a few minutes, when suddenly, he heard a key turning in the lock. The door opened and one of the older free born stable hands entered.

He kicked Arno against his thigh and snapped:

“Get up, you lazy good for nothing brat. Time for work!”

Arno scurried away from him, got to his feet and rubbed his eyes. Looking over the stable hand’s shoulder, he could see the dark night air through the door frame.

“But it’s still dark!” he remarked.

The stable hand slapped him against the back of the head, causing Arno’s headache to become even worse, and said:

“Quiet! Do you want to wake the whole household? It’s not for you to decide when to work. The only thing you have to do is obey! Come with me!”

Arno, still feeling sleepy and having a headache, followed the stable hand out of the room. He now noticed that, although it was still very early, it wasn’t the middle of the night anymore either. The soft light of dawn was already visible at the eastern sky and in the main house several windows were lit by lamps and candles.

The other stable hands were bringing several horses out in the courtyard. Some were being saddled, while others were only fitted with their reins. To his dismay, Arno noticed it was Egil who was supervising everything.

“What are you waiting for, thrall?” Egil grunted. “Help bringing the other horses to the courtyard and then report to me. And don’t make a lot of noise!”

Arno did as he was told. The oldest stable hand showed him which horses to saddle up and which not. The saddled horses were then tied to the wooden superstructure of the well, while the unsaddled ones were just gathered near the outer gate of the fortified manor. Egil watched and when they were done, snapped his fingers a couple of times to get the stable hands’ attention.

“Right,” he said in a hushed tone of voice, “with Lady Iris departing for an important inspection tour and feast, we will make use of the opportunity to give the stables a thorough cleaning. You three,” he continued, pointing at the two thralls and one of the free born stable hands, “will stay here, help Lady Iris and her retinue with the horses when they leave and then start cleaning the stables. You two,” he added, nodding at Arno and the last free born stable hand, “will come with me. We’re taking the rest of the horses to the river to give them a proper bathing. Go ahead, each of you take two horses by the reins and follow me. Quietly!”

Arno, holding on to his two horses, looked up at Iris’s window. There was no way he would be able to speak with her before she left now. But then, she probably wouldn’t leave at all, as Brenna would no doubt use the mysterious poison in Iris’s breakfast to make her sick. He sighed and shrugged and trudged after the stable hand. There was nothing he could do now but when he got back, he would certainly tell Iris what he had heard. He didn’t care if she believed him or not.

Egil jumped on his own horse, tied the reins of a second horse to his saddle and rode through the gate. The stable hand and Arno followed him on foot. Stable hands weren’t allowed to ride the horses of warriors, unless given explicit permission. And thralls certainly couldn’t ride them.

Egil followed a south easterly route. The fortified manor soon disappeared behind them as they walked through a landscape of rough little pine tree forests, very low hills, fields worked by farmers and meadows with a few rare, rough looking cows. Egil and the farm hand clearly knew where they were going, but Arno had no idea. He didn’t even know there was a river nearby. He wondered for a while why Iris hadn’t built her castle close to that river. The answer was pretty obvious of course. Her castle was no castle, but a fortified, remodeled large farm that no doubt had stood there for years before iris’s father had given it to her. The original farmer no doubt had owned no land near the river.

It was a lot further than Arno had expected. They had already been walking for a couple of hours, which meant they were probably already 10 kilometers from the fortified manor, before the river finally came in sight. But this long walk wasn’t all bad. The fresh air and exercise did Arno well. He didn’t feel dazed and dizzy anymore and the headache was almost entirely gone as well. Arno cautiously touched his cheekbone and winced. Egil’s punch had left an ugly bruise. Well, he would survive. Being punched in the face now and then was probably good for somebody who wanted to be a hero. Still … he hoped it wouldn’t happen too often.

With his mind now cleared, he started paying a bit more attention to his surroundings. The river they were going to, didn’t seem very broad. It flowed rather peacefully from west to east and, in the far distance, made a slight turn towards the north, where no doubt it would eventually end its journey in the sea. It was a nice view, but not as interesting as what he suddenly realized when he watched the horses the stable hand was leading.

“Sir?” he said.

“What is it, Arno?” Egil replied.

“Is that captain Goderic’s horse?”

“It sure is.”

“But … captain Goderic is joining Lady Iris, isn’t he?”

“Normally he would, but he, Lady Brenna and two other warriors got ill during the night. Some kind of stomach flu. You can’t go riding when you have the runs, boy.”

“Lady Brenna and Goderic …? What about Lady Iris?”

“What about her?”

“Is she ill?”

“No. She’s as strong as a horse, that one.”

“But she’s staying home anyway?”

“Home? Why would she? You think Lady Iris would stay away from an important feast where she will meet her fellow nobles, because some of her men have the runs and are puking all over the place? Hah! Then you don’t know her as well as you think. But enough talk! There’s the river. Get the horses in and start bathing them.”

Arno and the stable hand stripped down to their underwear before they led the horses into the river. The water was cold, but the animals didn’t care. They actually seemed to enjoy their bath. Although working hard, Arno’s mind was occupied by very different thoughts then just bathing horses. What Egil had said made no sense. Iris wasn’t ill, but Goderic and Brenna were? Brenna? What had gone wrong? Had she accidentally taken the poison herself? Or had she done it on purpose and done the same to Goderic, hoping Iris would decide against riding out, because she didn’t have her loyal bodyguard. If so, the plan had failed. Iris was going anyway. There had to be something else! Gods, he really wished Talisin would have been with him. He would have figured it out in no time.

Arno poured more water on the horses, using a cup Egil had brought along. He was so busy trying to figure out what was going on, he didn’t notice Egil calmly walked towards the river bank and collected his clothes and shoes, stuffing them into his saddle bags.

“Arno, good job, get out of the river,” Egil said, after about an hour of scrubbing.

The boy obeyed and walked onto the bank, not noticing the stable hand was close behind him.

“I think we’re about done here. Just need to dry down the horses a bit but Otto can do that without us. So you better get ready to leave.”

“Sure, Sir. I’ll just dry myself and put on my clothes … Where are my clothes?”

“Your clothes? You’re already overdressed for where you are going. And don’t worry about still being wet. You’ll dry along the way.”

“Wh … What?”

A heavy hand suddenly dropped on his shoulder. Otto the stable hand grabbed his wrist and turned one arm on Arno’s back. Arno yelped, more startled than hurt.

“I don’t understand,” he stammered. “What’s going on?”

“It’s fairly simple. We don’t need you at the Keep anymore, so we’re kicking you out. You are being sent to the village of Forlak. It’s by the sea. You’ll be used there for diving for pearls. And pearl divers, especially thralls, usually don’t wear anything. But don’t worry, as I have no desire to have some naked boy running behind my horse, you can keep your loincloth until we’re there.”

“Lady Iris won’t allow it!” Arno exclaimed. “She’ll punish you when she gets back.”

“Gets back?” Egil grinned. “Ah right, yes. Well, I’m not too worried about that. I’m sure she won’t protest at all. Otto, tie his hands in front of him. I don’t want him to get lost by accident on the way.”

“But … but … Why?”

“A thrall doesn’t need to understand. He only needs to obey. But I guess Lady Brenna never trusted you with Lady Iris. You probably overstepped your bounds. I have a closed message here for the elder of the village with Brenna’s instructions. I don’t know what’s written in here, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he has to castrate you before using you as a diver.”

“Ca … castrate?!” Arno gasped with a breaking voice.

“Although I have to admit it’s rarely done with temporary thralls. But then …”

“What?”

Egil stepped closer, checked the knots and nodded approvingly. Then, to Arno’s fear, he drew a knife and, pulling Arno’s head forward by his hair so he had to bend over, cut the light blue collar from his neck. Otto made sure he was kept down while Egil picked a new collar, made of black leather, from his satchel and locked it around the boy's neck.

“Now you’re a permanent thrall.”

“But that’s not fair! It’s not just. It goes against Lady Iris’s judgment!”

“Who will know? Even if your brother does come back, he’ll never know where to find you. And even if he did, what trouble could he possibly make? Pauper like he is.”

“But it’s not fair,” Arno protested in a trembling voice. “I’ve never dived for pearls. I know nothing about it. You … you don’t even know if I can swim. And I don’t want to lose my balls.”

“What kind of Viku boy can’t swim?” Egil said, rolling his eyes. Of course you can swim.”

“And I wouldn’t worry to much about my balls of I were you,” Otto said, taking some pity with the kid. “It’s not exactly a common practice on these islands. We’re not in the Amazonian Queendoms.”

“Shut up, Otto!” Egil snapped. “Just make sure those horses are dried and taken back to the Keep. I’ll take this brat to Forlak myself.”

Egil tied a second rope to Arno’s bound hands and wrapped the other end around his own arm. Then he led his prisoner to his horse, mounted the animal and took off, casting a last dirty look at Otto, who had spoiled his fun. Arno followed on foot behind him, trudging along, staring at the ground. But behind his cast down eyes, his mind was working at top speed, seeking desperately for a solution.