Tales of Gallanol : Ch.5 Caerella (Part 2)

Part 2

 

     When Jovian was shown into the room ten minutes later other important Elladeini leaders had arrived. There were about eight people in the room apart from himself. A handsome black-haired man of fairly thin stature, in his thirties, wearing billowy-sleeved garments of red, orange and blue, over trousers of fawn, which were gartered below the knee to tights of a lighter fawn colour, and shoes of red leather with some fur on them, came forward. He did not look to be a man of military type, and certainly was not dressed for battle. He announced himself in a noticeable Elladeini accent as Prince Trahearn of Elladein.

 

     Jovian immediately asked, “Where is King Lew? It is with him I must speak.”

 

     “No, it is with us you must speak,” smiled the Prince, convincingly. Then in explanation, “King Lew is in Morith at the moment, but we will hear what you have to say. First let me introduce my companions. Then let us get down to business. Take a seat, please.” He offered Jovian a seat near the window of the fairly small wooden-floored room, which looked south-eastwards over the city and the lands Jovian had travelled over. At the same time most of the people who had been standing up sat down, and the Prince took a seat next to a familiar looking woman on Jovian’s right hand side.

 

     Jovian knew her well, and was surprised. Of course he had heard that she had married a Prince in one of the Kingdoms, but that was years ago, and he had completely forgotten.

 

     “This is my wife, Princess Morgana. I believe you knew her in Gorn.” She was still beautiful, long black hair tied up in a bun, with a fringe and some runaway strands below her ears and down her neck. She wore a full piece light blue dress, which fitted her curves very well.

 

     He nodded respectfully in her memory and she welcomed him. “How nice it is to meet you again, but we should have chosen better circumstances.” Intelligent as ever, she obviously had not changed much. The years seemed to have treated her well.

 

     “This is Rodin Boyne, Chief Minister,” said the Prince. A small, stocky, balding, black-haired man of about sixty, with a tidy short beard and moustache, wearing green tunic and tights with black robe. Jovian had seen him in Gorn and Enavon before, but never met him. He was a veteran minister of King Lew’s.

 

     “Lew Kinread, leading merchant banker.” He was of average height, well built, slightly greying black hair, wearing a grey tunic and overtrousers, white tights, black shoes and a black coat. Not a man for gay dressing, Jovian thought, although he himself was all in black. The man was about fifty and Jovian had heard of him. His House owned property even in Gorn.

 

     “Grean Graeme, our General.” He was in his late forties, stocky, with very tidily trimmed black hair and beard, in silver body armour and leather clothing for the cold outdoor weather. His sword was long and wide.

 

     “My uncle Aedh and my cousin Eocha.” Aedh was like King Lew and Rodin Boyne, about sixty years old. He was balding. His black, greying hair was curly, and he had a beard, not as tidy as Rodin’s or Grean Graeme’s. His robe was red, his tunic was red, his brown trousers were baggy and ill fitting. His red boots came up his shins and leather extensions came above his knees.

 

     Eocha was in his thirties. Like his father, he wore a beard, and already his black hair was receding and unkempt, but his clothes, in contrast were very fashionable. He wore tight red and white striped trousers, a deep red shirt with billowy sleeves, and a thick black leather waistcoat. He trailed a thick red, black-bordered cloak over his shoulder to keep out the cold weather. His boots were strong brown, fastened up his shins with leather leggings, and he was a handsome man with intense brown eyes.

 

    The last person was another merchant, who was also a minister. Hew Dunough was in his fifties, with grey hair which was not balding, and a very close cropped beard. He wore a long black coat, brown tunic, grey overtrousers, fawn tights and black shoes.

 

 

     Jovian began, “You don’t seem to have a large army. Deneldinhew has got the city surrounded completely. We have got boats which have just arrived up the Ella, filled with supplies and more men. The High King can bring a lot more men upriver. There are more on the way right now. Trade with the south, with Ellavale, Morith and Nardyrria has been halted. Men and supplies cannot reach you. Sooner or later you will have to surrender. If you do decide to resist, Deneldinhew may decide to storm the gates, the walls or the river, and there is bound to be bloodshed between Gallanolian and Gallanolian for a hopeless cause. Deneldinhew means to win. He has come prepared, and there is nothing you can do to change it. I advise you to negotiate for surrender now. If you wait the terms will be harsher on the House of Lew.”

 

    “What are your terms for a surrender now? Do not forget that we could resist for many months in these walls, and if Deneldinhew thinks he could get inside he is mistaken. King Lew has a large army in Morith. He will bring it back to Caerella if the terms are not reasonable. It is not in any way certain that Deneldinhew could conquer Elladein by force of arms,” concluded the Prince.

 

     “The terms can be negotiated,” offered Jovian. “The High King wants King Lew to step down. If you want to surrender I would say that is a small price to pay to avoid costly war. High King Deneldinhew will negotiate with all of you or any of you who are willing, although he will not enter the city. Negotiations must take place outside the walls at the South Gate, between the ranks, in a tent.”

 

      Jovian was really only a messenger. He had no personal power or influence. He could not speak for Deneldinhew, especially now that he had aroused the enmity of Owen Gireald of Girithon. He felt no great purpose in his task. All he had to do was to persuade the Elladeini leaders to negotiate with Deneldinhew. He could do them a favour by telling them the facts and persuading them to peaceable surrender, but there was nothing else he could do.

 

      Rodin Boyne, Lew Kinread and Hew Dunough asked questions of him, but there was nothing more he could tell them. Aedh and Eocha looked on sullenly. He suspected that the merchants were eager for peace at all costs, that Aedh and Eocha resented the facts, and were stubborn in refusal to surrender. He could not tell Rodin’s or Morgana’s or Trahearn’s opinions.

 

      Presently they asked him to wait outside in another small room overlooking the icy city. He could hear the sounds of heated argument inside, but could not distinguish any words. Lew Kinread’s distinctive loud voice was calm and insistent. Another voice, Eocha’s he imagined, although he could not know, was angry and heated. He overheard Morgana’s voice, then the door opened. She came out smiling at him. “tell Deneldinhew we will talk this afternoon, three hours before sundown in his tent. His soldiers must be well away from the tent, and the tent must not be too far from the walls.” There was no hint of sorrow or tension in her voice. Jovian marvelled at her.

 

     “You’re glad they are going to surrender, aren’t you,” he stated inappropriately.

 

     “I am not telling,” she replied. Prince Trahearn came out and shook his hand, and called for the guard to escort Jovian.

 

     When Jovian had gone Morgana asked Trahearn what he thought of Jovian. “ He is a black messenger for us, but if he has influence with Deneldinhew then it is good news for Gallanol. He does not seem to be the Unificationist type, and I cannot see Owen Gireald and Luneid Lenwar liking his appearance.”

 

     “That’s what I thought,” said Morgana. “ But he has not really changed much. The black clothes are new, but he always had his hair long.”

 

     “He doesn’t seem very jolly to me; seems to take himself quite seriously. Not a person to mess with, I would think,” judged Trahearn.

 

     “That’s what I always thought,” said Morgana. “ Though he is quite compulsive.”

 

 

     The leading representatives of Caerella had met Deneldinhew and his councillors, including Jovian, in a large blue tent, just beyond the South Gate, that cold but clear afternoon towards the end of March 1114. Earlier on a large group of representatives of many interests of Caerella had met in heated debate in the Room of Debate in the middle of the Palace. There had been the important members of the Elladeini Royal Family, elected representatives of the Caerella citizenship (the whole population except criminals, children and foreigners), members of the larger merchant houses, to represent the merchants and industrial firms, leading councillors of the civil service, Grean Graeme, the General, and representatives of allied or friendly Kingdoms, Nardyrria, Assuria, Paldein, Prydein, Northede and Norenic.

 

     Trahearn, Aedh and Eocha had each made strong speeches against the tyranny of Deneldinhew, proposing to hold out until King Lew returned in force or decided to surrender. The Assurian ambassador had made a remarkable speech about Gallanolian, and Elladeini in particular, cowardice. “You can win if you want to,” he had said. “If your hearts and minds are set, Deneldinhew can never break into Caerella. His army is only small, granted larger than your, and even my King’s, but not large enough.” He obviously felt it was in his King’s interest to prevent Deneldinhew from gaining supremacy. The Paldeini ambassador had pleaded for time to see how the war in the south went.

 

     It was all to no avail. Prince Trahearn and Princess Morgana had known it would be, and they had no authority to bind the citizens to King Lew and King Lewden of Paldein’s cause against their will. Even Grean Graeme the General had opposed further bloodshed. Unwillingly, the Royal Family had conceded to the rest of the assembly. There was however much concern about treatment by Deneldinhew, and Prince Trahearn and Rodin Boyne promised to exact the best terms possible from Deneldinhew.

 

     The negotiations in the Blue Tent lasted until well after dark, but Deneldinhew knew instinctively that he could exact the terms he wanted. “Everything will be as it has always been. No man, or his property, will be harmed,” he had said. “Your army must be disbanded immediately. Lew will no longer be King. I will be King here for a period of ten years, after which it will revert to you and your successors, as long as you act constitutionally, Prince Trahearn, and of course recognise my authority as High King. You will keep your title as Prince until that time. I nominate, during that ten year period, Owen Gireald of Girithon to be my steward here in Elladein.”

 

    When finally the Elladeini had accepted the terms, after much further argument between themselves, there had still been much discussion about smaller points. That evening Prince Trahearn shook Deneldinhew’s hand and contributed his signature, but evidence of his personal expectations was unambiguously shown, when, in the morning, the southern soldiers were unable to find him. He and Princess Morgana, together with Aedh and Eocha and their family and close supporters, had slipped past the southern guards in the night, and rode to Morith.

 

     Jovian was surprised like most by their flight, and even admired Trahearn for it, and privately agreed that it might be the best course of action for the Royal House of Elladein. He found himself almost wishing that Lewden of Paldein, and not Deneldinhew of Emywid, were High King in Emywid. There would be no Owen of Girithon in command of Elladein under High King Lewden and King Lew. He foresaw disaster for Elladein, and thought that Deneldinhew had made a bad choice for his party in excluding the most civilised and reasonable Trahearn from the settlement. With these tough terms he foresaw disunity and further civil war in Elladein and the rest of Gallanol. Perhaps his thoughts were coloured by his own personal dislike and even fear of Owen Gireald.

 

     Deneldinhew also admired Trahearn’s bravery for his action, although he was annoyed that now there would definitely be further resistance from King Lew in Morith, but he believed that it would remove an opposing House from future power in Elladein.

 

     Owen Gireald was glad. Trahearn was one less rival for the attentions of Deneldinhew. He had chosen his true colours, and Gallanol would pay him retribution one day.

 

     The morning after the surrender the unscathed and proud southern army paraded through the winding streets of Caerella and occupied the barracks vacated by the Caerella army in the Little Fortress and below the Palace, as well as in other barracks around the inner and outer walls. The population was completely passive. There were no further incidents, and Deneldinhew kept to most of his promises. To show his conciliatory intentions he threw a party for the influential and rich of the city in the Palace, on the evening of the day after.