by Candy Rae
CHAPTER 27 (Southern Continent)
Tidings of the defeat in the north came to those at Fort, including naturally enough, the news that Elliot Murdoch was no more.
Brentwood rubbed his hands together with glee. Now was his chance to consolidate his position, to gain power, now, whilst the leadership was in doubt. His attitude towards Anne Howard changed at once. Gone was the deference. Only her pregnant state was preventing her immediate transfer from Fort to the encampment down the hill. In a snatched meeting with Gerry, she explained her predicament but she was being guarded too closely to even consider an escape. There were Cherry and Joseph to consider as well. Gerry was making plans to get the two youngsters away but it required very careful planning. The penalty for failure did not bear thinking about.
Deliverance for Anne, of a sort, was however, at hand.
As Baker and Smith led their battered army south they had much to complain about. Any hope either had entertained of assuming absolute power was dead, the incipient rivalry between them redundant, ever since Andrew Snodgrass had translated Aoalvaldr’s words.
“Larg make pact with Murdoch. Larg keep word. Humans stay in lands ceded before battle.”
Baker and Smith had smiled with anticipation. This was good. Both men had eyed each other through narrowed lids, quite sure that it would be he who would assume absolute power at the expense of the other.
“Largan say we need each other in future. Alliance will stay,” continued Andrew on behalf of Aoalvaldr.
Baker and Smith had nodded sagely.
The next two sentences contained the bombshell.
“Aoalvaldr says that the land is ceded to Murdoch and his descendents in perpetuity. No one else. This is not negotiable.”
So Smith and Baker would not fight each other for the leadership of the south. Elliot Murdoch’s unborn child would inherit.
Their plans took an immediate about turn.
After a few guarded words, Aoalvaldr then led his Larg away south, leaving the human army to make their way back to Fort. To Andrew’s immense relief, it was permitted that he stay with his own kind.
“I be back,” Aoalvaldr warned him. “In disgrace am I. Punishment is to spend many summers in desert guarding borders. Aoalvaldr be important and have power again. I will contact you when time is right.”
Andrew did not want to think about that. Perhaps he could move up towards the coast, out of range of Aoalvaldr’s mental shout? He resolved to speak to Baker about it. He had no wish to continue his relationship with Aoalvaldr. Let another take a turn.
“We can be Lords though,” said Baker as they marched. “Lord Baker sounds good to me and the real power behind the throne will be ours.”
“Perhaps it will be a girl child,” said Smith. “Much easier to control.”
“We’d better make plans,” said Baker. “You got the map?”
Over dinner in the colonels’ mess three days later Smith spoke to the other surviving colonels.
“We have a map, fairly detailed. We’ve split the land into eight sectors, each to be led by a Lord, subject to the crown. Baker and I have chosen ours and have allocated the two southerly Lordships to Colonels Cocteau and Brentwood. The other four are up for grabs, except for one.”
He looked over at Pierre Duchesne.
“You get first choice.”
Duchesne walked over and looked at the map. Naturally, the four Lordships already chosen were those round Fort. To their north were another two, reaching up to the coast, to the southeast, one, smaller than its northern and western neighbours. There was another in the northeast. This one was vaguely triangular in shape, bordering two so far unclaimed Lordships on its western side, its northern border the beachy coast. It’s far eastern tip fell short of the beginning of the island chain by a scant three miles. It had the advantage, in Duchesne’s eyes, of being as far away from Baker, Smith and all the rest as possible.
He pointed at it.
Smith’s eyebrows rose but he said nothing. His look however, spoke volumes.
“The other three,” said Baker with a sardonic grin, “the rest of you can argue over. Remember though, your keeping these Lordships depends on your loyalty to Smith, Duchesne, Cocteau, Brentwood, myself and the Crown!”
With that, Baker and Smith left them to it.
“In memory of our dear lamented leader,” Baker was saying to Smith as the two walked away, “I think this country of ours shall henceforth be called the Kingdom of Murdoch. It has a nice ring to it don’t you think? I must tell them all in the morning.”
Smith grinned.
Duchesne followed not long after, deep in thought. He needed to speak to Sergeant Michael Wallace as soon as possible.
The arguments between the remaining colonels continued for some days. Eventually, after much wheeling and dealing, a solution was reached and the two Lordships on the northerly coast claimed. Nobody wanted the small desert south-eastern Lordship with no rivers or coastline. It was therefore left vacant, and would become crown land for the time being.
The scar-faced Baker sought out Duchesne and when he found him, came to the point in his usual abrupt manner.
“Why that Lordship?” he asked. “You’re miles away from Fort where the action is.”
Duchesne had thought of an answer he hoped would pass muster.
“It’s next to the coast,” he temporised.
“So are two others.”
“But they don’t have much woodland area. I intend to make a fair bit from managing the pockets of hardwood growing there. There’s any amount of arable land too.”
“It’s nearest to the island chain man, first line of defence against the north and you’re likely to have kohorts of Larg clipping its edges on their way there and what if the colonists decide to attack you?”
“I’ve got my regiment,” Duchesne said in a mild voice. “I’m sure I’ll be able to keep the rampaging northerners off your back. I think too that I’ll leave the far eastern tip empty. The Larg can pass through any time they like. I’m certainly not going to try and stop them.”
Baker wasn’t quite sure if Duchesne was being serious or not.
“We’re still in your land now. You staying or coming back to Fort with us?”
“I’ll leave half of my men,” Pierre Duchesne answered. “They can start building the cabins. I’ll come back with you to Fort, pick up my goods and chattels and see what’s going on. You going to leave me some of the women we’ve just captured here now? No point in walking them all the way there and then back again. Say twenty-five?”
Baker considered this, then nodded in agreement. He wanted to keep Duchesne sweet, at least for the time being. He wanted him on his side on the Conclave of Lords who would govern the kingdom for the, as yet, unborn prince. If he gave Duchesne these twenty-five, he would be beholden to him for the largesse.
The internal bickering and power struggle had begun, not for the title but for power and more importantly, control.
When the army arrived back at Fort, Henri Cocteau accepted the land allocated to him with commendable aplomb. Bryan Brentwood was not so happy and persuaded Raoul van Buren to swap, the north-westerly lordship being more suitable for his purpose. He had decided on a new business venture that would, long-term, be very profitable. Duchesne watched these two begin their own game of power play and was glad to think that he would soon be well out of it.
He was pleased to see that Briony, the young girl he had chosen the same day Cocteau had picked out Carla Pederson, was well. He was surprised to find that Cocteau had bought Carla’s mother Ulla from Brentwood and made haste to do the same for Briony’s mother. A week later they were all ready to be on their way. It was with relief that he led his half-regiment down the hill and away from Fort. Amongst the baggage train walked a pregnant Briony Duchesne (that had been a surprise), her mother and her two young brothers. The girl was in a seventh heaven of delight at what he had done for her family and was quite prepared to fall in love with her protector. H
er mother reserved judgement. Too much had happened for her to be entirely at ease with her son-in-law yet.
Before he left, Duchesne did manage to speak to Anne Howard. It was difficult. If anything, her movements were now even more restricted than when Murdoch had been alive. As the mother of the future heir to the throne, she was being treated like glass. She was not permitted to lift a hand to any work and for the first time in her life Anne had servants who were required to look after all her needs. But her life wasn’t an easy one. The incipient animosity between Baker and Smith was growing. Both wanted to marry Anne to cement their power at the expense of the other.
She did understand that she had a friend in Duchesne. He had surprised her the morning before he left for his Lordship, walking in on a snatched conversation she was having with Gerry as the man was making a surreptitious detour from his task of delivering some goods to the kitchens.
“Spy in our midst?” Duchesne said half in jest as he approached.
Anne went ashen with fear; Gerry even whiter. How much had Lord Duchesne heard? How much did he suspect?
Duchesne looked at Gerry and Anne took another frightened breath.
Duchesne’s next words surprised both of them.
“Don’t panic. Even if you are a spy, I am not going to say anything. I only came here to say something to Anne. I am glad she has a friend she can trust here.”
Gerry breathed a sigh of relief.
“I am your friend,” he said, addressing Anne directly. “I know that you might not believe it but if there is anything I can do to help, I will if I can. Just send this man here to me. I can’t do much but you never know what the future holds.”
“Thank you,” said Anne simply. “I won’t forget. You are the colonel who was kind to the boys aren’t you?”
“I did my best,” replied Duchesne and walked away.
“Do you believe him?” asked Gerry. “Can we trust him?”
“Yes Gerry, I think I do and I think we can and must. There is something about him that is different than the other so-called Lords. I don’t know exactly what happened to him in the north during the campaign yet I feel in my bones that my husband would have agreed with me. Remember, we do need all the friends we can get.”
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