Shadows and Schemers

The next installment of the saga.

 Shadows in the Snow.

The column was finally approaching Leymoor, Denys Howard the Thrang of Hammerton was keen to speak to the towns elders and his garrison commander, to find out the extent of the incursions into his dominion. He knew it was bad, by the messages he had been receiving and suspected it was more than a roaming band of outlaws and thieves who were responsible.

'What do you see Walter?' Denys spoke to his son without turning his head away from the town ahead.

Walter was a little puzzled at the question.

'Why the town of Leymoor, ahead of us father.' he said the confusion evident in his voice.

Denys give a slight nod of the head, but again kept his eyes on the town.

'What else do you see my boy, forget the town ahead, look around you for a little while, and then tell me what you see.'

Lawrence had no idea what his father was talking about or hinting at, but he began to scan the land around him. The column was trudging along behind the Thrang Host as normal, to his right were only fields of white, as far as the eye could see. To his left was a low snow covered ridge, nothing remarkable... then he saw movement. At first he thought he had imagined it, but there it was again, two of them, men on foot, moving from snow covered rock to snow covered rock.

'Father, I see two men moving along the ridge on our left side, they are trying to stay hidden but show up against the snow.'

Denys again nodded, this time he looked at the boy, 'Those men or others with them, have been following and watching us for the last two days, did you not notice them before.'

The boy felt himself redden of face, 'No father, I have not been paying attention, only on the road ahead.'

'Then take this as a lesson, always keep alert to what is around you at all times, your life and those of your people may depend upon it.'

The townsfolk were now aware of the approaching column, the garrison was being called out and began to form up, people stood outside of their houses and the town elders rushed to take their places for the arrival of their thrang. They had much to tell him, most of it bad!

                            

                             The Thrang is Dead, Long Live the Thrang.

Agnes Foxe, wife of, or more correctly widow, of the Thrang of Rudston, gave a convincing show of distress, as her husband took his last breaths in this world. The pig was dead, and she was elated to be rid of him. It was good timing too, the twin boys had celebrated their sixteenth birthdays yesterday, at least he hadn't died on that day to ruin the celebrations for the boys.

But now there was work to be done, the late thrang's host, would now have to choose a ward to advise the new thrang. Benedict could not assume that role fully for two more years, and Agnes intended to fill the role of ward. Her lover, Andrew Daye, a senior member of the host would help her achieve that goal.

She had time to organise herself, as the host would not meet until her husband had been buried and that would have to wait until invited guests, mainly neighbouring thrangs and of course her brother, the Thrang of Wheeldale arrived. Messages were at this moment being carried to them all.

They would all attend of course, it was expected that neighbouring thrangs attended the funeral of one of their own, with the melting snow now revealing the fields beneath, it was not a very good time for any of them, far too much to organise in their own dominions. But come they would from Exelby in the South to Sailsworth in the North, they may not even have liked her husband, but the thrangs of financially poor dominions, could not be seen to snub a more powerful thrang.

Agnes had plans for her two boys, Benedict would take over at Rudston, with her guiding hand of course. But what of Luke? He too should rule over a dominion, but which one? Exelby and Longthwaite, close by were unsuitable, both being of poor soil and of little use for anything except grazing sheep on the hills. No, Agnes had her eyes on Waplington, a far more suitable dominion. Aubrey Cotterill, its thrang, would soon be receiving the sad news of her husbands death and of course would be attending the burial. She had met him on only two previous occasions, he was quite elderly, certainly beyond 60, a fine warrior in his youth and a good leader of his people. It was said that the populace of Waplington were among the happiest in Yolare.

But with her brothers help, as well as the other former members of the Eastern Alliance, she hoped to take it, along with other dominions who stood in her way. It would ease the pain and shame many of the Eastern Alliance still felt after the War of the Two Rivers, a dozen years earlier, when the coward of a husband of hers, had surrendered the Alliances forces, when the war was still there to be won.

It would not happen again...