The Patrimony

3

The edifice known as Vawn Hall was new, as structures went in this ancient land; its construction had been started at the close of the great Ehleen rebellion and finished only a few years before the death of Hwahltuh Sanderz, first thoheeks of the new line, all the original Vawns having fallen under the dripping blades of the rebels.

Like all the older halls, it faced east—toward the rising point of Sacred Sun—the main building rising three stories aboveground and descending four levels of cellars below. A wide, spacious, flag-paved courtyard fronted the broad stone stairway leading up to the entry. The courtyard was bounded on either side by lines of small, low-ceilinged cubicles built against the twelve-foot granite walls. Opposite the hall stood the squat, two-story stable-cum-barrack-cum-gatehouse. To the west of the main structure was a smaller court, likewise walled, with the castellan’s neat home snuggled into one corner and the kitchen—with its huge hearths and cavernous ovens and soaring chimneys—in the other.

Just beyond the postern gate lay a well-appointed yard for the exercise of arms skills, with the summer smithy on one side of it and the hall privies facing. Around and about the hall stretched the rolling, grassy leas, across which ambled the hall horses and a herd of milk cows with sheep and goats in the near distance. In the fringes of the oak woods, a half mile distant—for Thoheeks Hwahltuh, ever mindful of the fate that befell his predecessor, had cleared all woods and brush within four arrow flights of his hall—rooted and foraged half-wild swine.

Having interbred countless times with the huge, indigenous boar tribe, these “domestic” hogs ran to lean strength and such fearsome ferocity that only starving wolves or a ravenous bear or the occasional mountain cat would brave their porcine rage. But they had learned to fear two-legs on horses, for this was how they were taken in the fall, by two-legs on horses, armed with lances and bows and ropes.

Farther into the forest ranged deer and elk, and, more rarely seen, wild cattle—called “shaggy bulls” in the Middle Kingdoms, huge and fierce and dangerous if provoked; they were roan or dusty black, dark brown or sometimes whitish, but both sexes equipped with wide-flaring, needle-tipped horns and the strength and speed to use them to awesome effect. Rabbits scuttled through the underbrush, sometimes pursued by weasel or bobcat, wolf or fox, while squirrels chattered from the trees above.

Beyond the miles of forest lay the westernmost domain of the duchy, the lands of Komees Tahm, youngest uncle of the late thoheeks’ children, known as Tahm of Lion Mountain because most of the mountain cats which plagued the duchy of hard winters seemed to come down through his demesne.

Even farther west, the tracks became narrow, winding amongst weathered rock and trees clinging precariously to the steeps which were the eastern wall of the Marches, the arhkeethoheekatohn of the Ahrmenee Stahn, staunch allies of the Confederation. Once the fiercest enemies of the Kindred and Ehleenee, these hawk-nosed, dark-visaged men had become in the generation since the first arhkeethoheeks, Kogh Taishyuhn, had perceived the folly of continuing hostilities, the veritable cream of the Confederation Army, whilst producing within their own stahn works of artistry in metals eagerly sought throughout the Confederation and well beyond.

The Stahn buffered the middle-western thoheekatohnee from inroads of the savage tribes of mountain barbarians, few of whom dared incur the wrath of the well-armed, determined, head-collecting Ahrmehnee. Nor were warfare and metalworking the only accomplishments of these people or their only value to the Confederation. Straddling shaggy mountain ponies from near-infancy and hunting cunning mountain beasts from pre-puberty, Ahrmehnee boys and men made excellent hunters and the increasing number of them gifted with mindspeak ability were the best and most highly paid of horse handlers, farriers and equine leeches.

In the twelve generations since first their Undying God had led the Horseclans Kindred across the violent, blood-soaked two thousand miles from their former home on the limitless plains of the interior to the decadent coastal principality of Kehnooryos Ehlahs, the vital, virile Kindred had brought all the Ehleenee south of the Middle Kingdoms into their Confederation—sometimes by conquest, sometimes by alliance—as well as the Ahrmehnee Stahn and several non-Ehleen northern states.

From the northernmost point—Nohtohpolisburk in the Principate of Kuhmbuhluhn—twenty days of hard riding would lead to the southern border, unmarked amidst the treacherous salt fens beyond which lay the legendary evil Witch Kingdom and, even with the matchless roads built and maintained by the army, the remainder of a full month needs must be ridden out before the southwesternmost principate, on the eastern and northern shores of the brackish River Sea, was reached.

From their capital of Kehnooryos Atheenahs, the four Undying ruled over six principates, over a hundred arhkeethoheekatohnee and nearly six hundred thoheekatohee. Five major races—Kindred, Ehleen, Middle Kingdoms Mehruhkuhn, Mountain Mehruhkuhn and Ahrmehnee—and numerous smaller ones made up the heterogeneous population. Three principal languages—the various dialects of Mehrikan, Ehleeneekos and Ahrmehnee—were spoken and written, though it was traditional for official records to be kept in Ehleeneekos.

The population was larger than ever it had been under the old Ehleen sway and, moreover, was growing larger with each passing year. Cities were replacing towns, becoming larger and more congested, and even the land was becoming crowded. The oceans encroached farther upon the verdant coastal croplands with each succeeding year and Middle Kingdoms states were no whit less populous, so the only viable direction for expansion lay to the west.

Compared to the east—from which their ancestors had been driven by the Ehleenee nearly a thousand years before—the peaks and glens, plateaus and vales, were thinly settled, but every tribe or clan or family group felt a fierce pride of ownership in its stony acreage and expressed that pride in bitter, unremitting warfare against the lowland invaders.

And so the huge Army of the Confederation had been engaged in almost constant warfare for over a century, fighting scores of battles and skirmishes for each mile of near-wilderness brought under Confederation control, every inch of arable land bought with the lifeblood of Confederation regulars and Middle Kingdoms Freefighters. Precious few liked the enduring situation of endless war to the west, but most recognized the necessity and inevitability of the advance of civilization against barbarism.

The Undying would have preferred to gain the use of western lands through treaties of alliance, as they had done a generation back with the Ahrmehnee; but, unlike the tight-knit Ahrmehnee Stahn, the mountaineers were for the most part crude, brutish and highly fractious among themselves, though they displayed a modicum of twisted honor in their internecine feudings—and some of the clans and tribes seemed to hate other clans and tribes nearly as much as they all hated the lowlanders—they seemed to feel that treaties with non-mountaineers were made to be broken as quickly as suited them. Further, their chiefs thought nothing of claiming and selling lands not their own, so the Undying had long ago reconciled themselves to the fact that needful expansion of territory could only advance behind the point of a spear.

Within the Confederation itself, however, there had been no warfare since the crushing of the Ehleen revolts nearly thirty years before. Within cities and towns, crime was petty and small-scale, and in the countryside, brigandage was almost unheard of. The descendants of the Ehleenee pirates who once had been the scourge of the mainland coasts now were the officers and crews of the swift oarships and far-ranging sailing ships that made the coastal waters too dangerous for any but honest merchantmen and the most suicidally foolhardy raiders.

Save on the western frontiers, few towns or cities were still completely contained by walls. All the older, lowland urban areas had spread well beyond their walls and many had wholly or partially dismantled them. Even some of the conservative hereditary nobility had defortified their ancestral halls or even deserted the grim stone piles to live in the new-style manor houses.

But these nobles were not among those who had fought against the fanatic rebels of Gafnee, Morguhn and Vawn. Those nobles bided within their castellated halls, locked their gates each sundown, slept lightly and with a pillow sword close to hand. And they distrusted all Ehleenee—for all that most of them had more than a trace of that blood in their own veins—especially the self-styled kath’ahrohs or Ehleenee of pure lineage.

Such a kath’ahrohs house had spawned her who had been Mehleena Lohgos, ere she was taken to wife by Hwahltuh, chief of Sanderz and Thoheeks of Vawn; and loud, long and fierce had been remonstrations of his Kindred at word of the projected match. But he was a stubborn man; moreover was he the son and grandson of chiefs and unaccustomed to tamely submitting to the bidding of his sub-chiefs. Also, he had the full support of his premier wife, the Lady Mahrnee—widow of the chief and Thoheeks of Morguhn, ere she wed her second husband—and against those two the combined Sanderz Kin stood no slightest chance, for all their ranting and raving of Ehleen plots, past, present and future.

But before her bridal year was spent, Mehleena was first and only wife, Lady Mahrnee being suddenly taken with a wasting sickness which claimed her life within two months of its onset. The servants had all loved and respected their dead mistress as cordially as they had quickly learned to hate and fear Lady Mehleena, and there were whisperings of witchcraft and poison. However, the improvable charges remained but the mutterings of older servants.

However, the mutterings increased as ill fortune seemed to stalk the house of Sanderz. In his twelfth year, Gilbuht Sanderz, eldest son of the chief and heir presumptive, drowned in the lake, for all that he had been an excellent swimmer. And that same year, his twin, Ahl, was blinded and almost killed in a freak accident. The mutterings had it that neither “accident” had occurred until after Mehleena had been delivered of her firstborn son, dark little Myron.

With one older brother dead and another disqualified for any clan office due to his blindness, the aging chief and his male kin commenced crash-course schooling in the duties, privileges and responsibilities of a chief and a tahneestos with Tim and Behrl, the two remaining, boy children of Lady Mahrnee and Hwahltuh. More and more frequently, this training fell to the uncles and older cousins of the boys, for the health of the chief was failing. Nor was this failing remarkable to any, for Hwahltuh had counted more than threescore years when his first child was born.

But the old chief gradually fell more and more under the sway of Mehleena, for only the potions brewed by her and her cousin, Neeka, served to relieve the unbearable headaches which had taken to plaguing him. These potions cast him into a deep and lengthy slumber, and for days after his eventual wakening, he was meek and biddable as a child, seemingly incapable of formulating his own opinions or of making his own decisions, bowing to Mehleena’s will in every particular. And that weakness was Tim’s downfall.