Camulod Chronicles Book 8 - Clothar the Frank (20 page)

"Garth knew there were some people who thought it less than fortunate that Gundevald was almost twice Elaine's age and so had little youth and less beauty with which to sway or win a young girl's heart, but he knew, too, that Gundevald would make a fine, strong and dutiful husband for his only remaining unwed daughter, and a powerful protector for her lands and her people once Garth was gone. But now Gundevald was dead, and Elaine was almost nineteen, having spent three full years waiting for him to return and marry her.

"Now, as soon as he had received and accepted the word of Gundevald's death, the King also accepted the realities that had changed the world around him. Gundevald's holdings of Stone Vale, which Garth had hoped to use for the defense of Ganis, were now in jeopardy, for Gundevald had left no sons to succeed him and his power and possessions would inevitably pass to whoever among his followers was strong enough to claim and hold them. That, by itself, placed Ganis at hazard, since Garth had no knowledge of who would seize the rule in Stone Vale next, and no way of divining whether that person might be friend or foe to Ganis.

"And so King Garth of Ganis thought long and deeply, then made a swift decision and sent out mounted couriers to overtake Ban's party on the road. Ban's cavalcade, containing all of his wife's prized possessions in a train of enormous wagons, was ponderous and ungainly, and it had set out only that morning, moving very slowly, which meant it would still be well within Ganis lands when Garth's messengers reached it. He sent word that the cavalcade should make camp and await the return of Ban and Vivienne, who were to return immediately to him.

"By the time the pair arrived back at the King's Hall, wondering what was going on, Garth was ready for them and greeted them with a barrage of questions that kept them both reeling, off balance and in absolute ignorance of his motives. This friend of Ban's, he demanded to know, the one he had sent home, the fellow Childebertus, was he trustworthy? He nodded at Ban's angry response, which he had expected, then pressed on: was he a man of means then, this Childebertus . . . did he have wealth?

"Sufficient for his needs and more than he could ever use, he was told. His father, a very wealthy and famous lawyer, had died in Rome several years before and had left all of his possessions to Childebertus, his only son. Those possessions consisted mainly of the monies and portable goods—gemstones and jewels, and gold and silver, both coins and bullion—taken as fees during a lifetime of working on behalf of wealthy clients. In addition to those funds, however, the lawyer Jacobus had also left his son enormous quantities of valuable real estate, most of it rental property generating revenue in the city of Rome and in the new Imperial City of Constantinople, all of it shrewdly purchased throughout the old man's life and now held in trust for Childebertus by his father's closest and most trusted friends and colleagues.

"The King muttered approval when he heard that. He said he would need large resources if he were to protect Ganis and its people in the future.

"Who
would need large resources? Ban asked, making it plain that he had no idea of what was going on here. Childebertus would, Garth replied, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. If he was to wed Elaine, he must elect to live here in Ganis, working with Garth at first in governing and strengthening the domain, then serving as his wife's consort when she became Queen once Garth was dead. Gundevald was dead—had been for months. Garth repeated the report he had received and dismissed the dead man with a wave of his hand. The thing to do now, he told Ban, was to consolidate his affairs in Ganis before the wars broke out in Stone Vale.

"Ban asked Garth why he himself was not moving to take command in Gundevald's stead, but Garth's only response to that was a quick shake of the head. No point to that, he said. He did not have the strength at his back nowadays, he said, and couldn't hope to win a serious struggle against the organized leaders of Gundevald's army.

"What army? Ban asked. It might be true that they had all been killed with Gundevald.

"Not all of them, Garth answered. That was impossible.

"Not so, Ban responded, equally forceful. It might seem impossible, but it might just as easily be true. And what if it was true? What if Gundevald's defeat at the hands of the Goths had been so completely crushing that none of his commanders had survived? No army can survive, deprived of its command officers; leaderless, the rank and file were nothing more than a rabble who would dissipate and vanish within days, hunting for food and sustenance for themselves. Or what if the defeat had been less severe, yet sufficiently so that those who had survived now had insufficient organized strength to take and hold Gundevald's place in Stone Vale? Should Garth not move at least to occupy the territories as a precaution, in self- defense?

"That stopped the old King short. He had not considered that possibility. Perhaps he should move in, he growled after a while. All the more reason, then, to wed Elaine to Childebertus and have the young man here to work by his side as soon as could be. He wanted Ban to ride immediately, in haste, to bring back Childebertus as quickly as possible.

"He might not come at all now, was Ban's response, for although he knew that Childebertus would crawl over burning coals to reach Elaine, he nonetheless felt the need to make the old man suffer briefly before giving in to him. Garth had given the poor fellow ample reason to refuse to come again, he pointed out.

"Of course he would come! The King's answer was immediate and confident. He had done nothing to insult Childebertus personally, he said—indeed, he had gone out of his way to show his appreciation and goodwill with the gift horse. Besides, everything was different now. If Childebertus wished to wed his daughter, Garth would look kindly on his suit, provided Childebertus would agree to remain in Ganis and pledge himself and his resources to support the King, standing with Garth and his people against any who might come against them in the aftermath of Gundevald's death.

"Less than an hour after that, Ban was on the road home to Benwick."

"And was my father glad to hear Ban's tidings?"

Chulderic peered sideways at me. "What do you think? He was wild with delight. As soon as he heard what Ban had come to tell him, he sent for me. We were going back to Ganis at once, he told me, as quickly as we could, and we would live there from now on. I would be his Master-at-Arms there, he promised me then, in complete charge of the entire force of men he would be raising immediately to take with him.

"Before we left for Ganis, your father sat down and wrote a letter to Germanus in Auxerre, explaining what was happening and where he was going and why, and telling the legate that we would be extending our northward journey to swing wide of our route and call in at Auxerre in passing. He then asked the noble legate to mediate for him in the matter of the legacy left him by his late father, by contacting the various people involved as custodians of his wealth and requesting that they sell everything that could be sold, as quickly and as prudently as possible, and that they forward the funds in care of Germanus in Auxerre. In the meantime, he hoped Germanus might arrange to advance him some money against future revenues and that he would also agree to use those funds and his military contacts to conscript a force of not less than one hundred men, all cavalry, and more if he could find qualified men in sufficient numbers, and have them ready to accompany us when we left Auxerre to ride on to Ganis.

"Your father had no idea then of how much money was involved in his father's legacy, and I doubt if he ever really came to grips with his own sudden wealth. Germanus told me later that the expenses he incurred on behalf of your grandfather Garth and the fortification of Ganis involved enormous sums, paid for, in the main, by what was realized in the first few years from massive sales of his properties in Rome and Constantinople. Much of that money was shipped directly from Rome to Gaul by sea, then made its way from the coast to Auxerre, and from there to Ganis, in wagon loads disguised as normal military goods being transported under escort. Your father kept the money in his own treasury after that, and used it as he needed it, to purchase arms and men and horses and the like. I remember, though, when I first heard about it—the amounts involved, I mean—the number of wooden chests of gold coin and silver ingots and jewels and the way they were transported clear across Gaul in ordinary wagons, I was flabbergasted. I simply could not visualize the bulk of the treasure."

I sat blinking at that, entranced by the image he had conjured, trying in vain to imagine the size and amount of treasure involved and to see it, in my mind's eye, filling the vast underground chamber of my father's treasury, awash in a sea of gold and brilliant colors as the flickering light of torches reflected from the heaps of gold and jewels.

"What happened to it, Magister, all that money?"

"Clodas took it, along with everything else."

"Clodas. Someday I will kill Clodas of Ganis."

"Aye, mayhap you will. No one will blame you, I know that. He owes you more than one life. Besides, his treasury is yours by right."

I felt myself frowning now. "Clodas of
Ganis.
The King said Clodas wasn't always known by that name. But last night King Ban called you Chulderic of Ganis. Is that correct? Is that truly where you are from?"

The Master-at-Arms barked deep in his throat, and it might have been a laugh, although it might as easily have been a cough. "No, lad. I'm from Ostia, the port of Rome," he growled. "I had never heard of Ganis until Ban mentioned it, and I didn't get that name until I came here with you, ten years ago. Chulderic's a common name in these parts and there were already four Chulderics here when I arrived. Each of them was known by the name of the place he came from, and one of them was already from Ostia, another from Rome. So I became Chulderic of Ganis."

"What did you do in Ostia, Magister?"

He made a formless, grunting sound deep in his chest. "No one has ever asked me that before. What
did
I do in Ostia? I should know, I was there for years . . . I survived, I suppose, and that, considering who I was and where I found myself, was an achievement. I grew up there, fighting for every scrap of food I ate and fighting even harder simply to live when there was nothing to eat . . . I was an orphan and a thief, forced to live by my wits, and they served me well, since I am still here to speak of it. I had no family . . . and no memories of anyone, from my earliest days . . . I lived on the streets, alone, sleeping in doorways most of the time, for as long as I can remember, and the one vision I had that kept me alive throughout that entire time was an image of myself as a soldier. I don't know how or when it began, but I grew up dreaming of being a soldier—not a mere warrior, mark you, but a uniformed Roman soldier, a legionary—because soldiers, to me, were always self-sufficient and dependent upon no man for their food. They were tall and strong and confident, and they had fine weapons and they were clean and wore warm clothing and well-made armour and everyone knew who they were and what they were. I never met a single one, mind you, who showed me any kindness, but somehow, among them all, they saved my life.

"I was fourteen when I first tried to enlist, and they laughed at me because I was a small, undernourished and skinny fourteen. I was so furious that I wept. I tried seven more times after that— seven times in two years—and they turned me away each time.

But then they took me in the next time, on my ninth attempt, with no hesitation. I suppose I had grown old enough by then to look my age."

He glanced across to where I sat watching him, and sniffed. "Now I'm a Master-at-Arms, so who would guess I ever was a thief?"

There was nothing I could say to that, and I only had the vaguest suspicion that there might be a grin hiding underneath his scowl, so I sat mute for a spell, then changed the topic.

"Why did Clodas of Ganis kill my parents, Magister, and how was he able to do so?"

Chulderic stiffened as though I had slapped him, and then his shoulders slumped forward. "Why and how are two different matters, boy. I've been thinking of that, and wondering about it, for ten years now. He killed them because they were there and they had what he wanted. This is a creature born to kill, this Clodas. He is depraved . . . evil. And yet he hides the evil effortlessly, with an almost supernatural ability to dissemble, to appear to be what he is not. Easy for me now to say what I know to be true, that he is without a man's emotions, empty of mercy or compassion, incapable of love or sympathy or sorrow. But this was not the face he showed to us who thought we were his friends. From us, he concealed every inkling of his true nature—from us men, at least, because I seem to recall that most women disliked him and distrusted him instinctively. I suppose that makes men more gullible and foolish than women. It's certainly true that he was able to gull all of us who knew him. Jesu! It makes me sick when I recall how much we trusted him . . . and honored him, for that matter. But then, truth to tell, none of us could even imagine the depths of treachery and depravity that existed within him while he was making us all love and admire him."

The old man stared out across the scene in front of us. "Believe me, lad, he was a piece of work . . . the kind of man to make you doubt every notion you ever had of what is admirable or honourable or worthy of trust.

"How did he do it? Within the six months following your father's arrival, he and King Garth visited every town, every fort and every settlement, no matter how poor or insignificant, in the Ganis federation, and that is how your father first met Clodas, on one of those journeys. In those days, Clodas was not known to anyone as Clodas of Ganis. If anything, he would have been Clodas of Rich Vale, but even that would have been ludicrous. His station was far more humble back then. His father, Dagobert, was the chief magistrate and nominal ruler of the district called Rich Vale, one of the larger fiefs of Ganis which lay far to the southeast of Garth's own lands. But Dagobert was an administrative ruler, more of a public official than a leader in any military sense. He was also some kind of cousin to King Garth, a relative by blood, but I know not how close, although I believe someone once told me that Garth's grandsire had been a brother to Dagobert's grandmother, or perhaps his great-grandmother.