Borna: the First Chronicle of Hvad
Copyright© 2026 by AspernEssling
Chapter 6: From Borna’s Bucket to Ovlivada
Elo took her own life.
She had done nothing wrong, but she could not be truly freed from the shame she felt. Every time someone showed pity, or compassion, it was a reminder of what she had suffered. Borna was powerfully motivated by his desire for revenge; Elo had channelled her suffering into depression.
Borna mourned in private. In public, he hobbled about, favouring his injured foot. He gave generous gifts to everyone who had distinguished themselves in the fight, which was effectively most of our band. The women, the youngsters, the foresters, Lovro, and Dirayr all received rewards. Borna spoke to everyone individually, thanking them for their contribution.
Nanaidh was singled out, and given the sword that Khoren had carried.
Our prisoners were released, in return for a promise that they would not fight against Borna again. Their families, and the families of Vazrig’s dead warriors, were allowed to leave. Borna would not hold them hostage. He let them take what they could carry, but he kept all of their horses, weapons and armour.
We now had three times as many horses as we had fighters. Dirayr, with his wounded leg, was barely able to manage our growing herd. Borna found him plenty of help.
- “I don’t know anything about horses.” said Siret.
- “I know.” said Borna. “This way, you’ll learn to ride, and make yourself useful to Dirayr at the same time.”
- “Is this some trick?” asked Nanaidh. “To keep us out of the fighting?”
- “No. You’ve all proved yourselves. But we won’t be fighting anytime soon. And you have to learn to ride, or you won’t be able to accompany us when we do go to fight.”
Borna discussed our situation with me, Lovro, and Hravar. Dirayr and Priit were included in the conversation. We still had only a handful of warriors, even counting the women and the young men.
- “Manahir has a hundred.” said Priit.
- “He doesn’t.” said Lovro. “We’ve killed forty or fifty of them.”
- “He’ll replace them.”
- “That’s true. It’s a point of honour with him, to have a round hundred.” agreed Dirayr.
- “Not sure I’d put Manahir and honour in the same sentence.” said Hravar. “But if he does have a hundred again, half of those will be neophytes. Just like ours.”
- “No.” said Borna. “Ours have seen action. They’ve lived rough, and they’ve been tested. We have an advantage, there.”
The only thing we could agree on was that we could not hold the steading if our enemies came in force. We couldn’t allow ourselves to be trapped inside.
So the first thing we did was to remove six logs from the rear of the palisade, so that we could exit the steading easily, close to the forest.
The second was to persuade as many of our remaining people as we could to move into the forest, where it was much safer. We had inherited almost fifty more non-combatants. More mouths to feed - or more hands to work, if you prefer.
It was difficult to even look at Noyemi. Every time I saw her, I heard Borna’s words in my head: ‘You could marry her’.
It didn’t help that she was more attractive now than she had been the first time I saw her. The months of captivity had been hard for Noyemi, mentally as well as physically. She was even more slender, yet she didn’t seem quite so fragile. She was tougher, somehow.
But there would always be something about her features - the brightness of her eyes, her small nose, her slightly larger than normal upper lip - that would seem delicate. There was just something about Noyemi that stirred my protective instincts.
I finally found the courage to speak to her again.
- “You were right.” I said. “Borna said ‘No’.”
I waited for her to say ‘I told you so’. She didn’t.
“But he did promise me that, some day, I would be able to free you. It may take some time, but...”
- “Why would you?” she asked.
- “This wasn’t my idea. I never wanted...” Damn it: why was it so hard to talk to her? “I swear to you - at the first opportunity, I will free you.”
- “And what would I do then?” she asked.
- “Eh?”
- “Where would I go? What would I do?”
- “You could go anywhere you want.” I said, too quickly. I knew very well that she had nowhere to go. Her family were dead, her steading burned to the ground.
- “And be what, exactly?” she said. Her voice was calm, but there was bitterness in it. “A concubine? A whore in Hvad town?”
I was shocked. “No! Noyemi! You could marry whoever you want.”
- “Ah, yes: my one option.” she said. “And who will marry the freed slave? Who would dare to marry the daughter and sister of their Hospodar’s enemies?”
- “Borna would never -”
- “What will he do, Ljudevit? Hang a sign about my neck that says ‘Go ahead and marry this one, if you want her; I won’t hold it against you.’”
Noyemi was clearly angry, and I had no idea what to answer. So I did the only thing I could think of: I fled.
Kanni was, as ever, more understanding.
- “My father was right, sometimes.” I said. “About some things.”
- “Such as?”
- “When he told me to shut up.”
Kanni smiled at me, with a twinkle in her eye.
“Oh - not you. I mean, my father used to tell me to shut up. Quite often. He was like Gosdan, in that respect. ‘When in doubt, say nothing’.”
- “What if your words might have helped?” asked Kanni. “Helpful advice. Words of comfort.”
- “I don’t know. If anyone wants advice, they’ll ask. If they don’t ask, they’re probably not that keen to hear it.”
- “I meant Noyemi.” she said.
- “I don’t think that I gave her much comfort.” I replied. “But the damage is done. I can’t unsay what I said.”
- “Maybe not.” said Kanni. “But why don’t you do what you do best?”
- “What’s that?”
- “Think, Ljudevit. Put yourself in her place, if you can.”
So I did. It wasn’t as difficult as I’d thought it would be.
- “Thank you, Kanni.” I said.
- “You’re welcome.”
I went off to find Noyemi.
- “I’m sorry if I made you unhappy.” I said. “That wasn’t my intention. I meant for it to be good news - of a sort. One day, you’ll be free. No: let me finish.”
Noyemi had been about to interrupt, but I forestalled her.
“Imagine, for a moment: if none of this had ever happened, your father would have married you off as he chose. You would have had no say in the matter. He could have married you to Borna, or to Antras. Or even to Vazrig.”
Her lip curled as she digested that thought.
“But one day, you will have a choice. You can marry, or not. You can choose the man yourself. You think that no one would want you - but look at Kanni. She knows that Borna will marry, one day. And he won’t force her to remain with him. On the day she chooses, she’s free to do as she wishes.”
“I can think of three or four men who will ask her to marry them. She’s bright, and kind, and capable. Any man would be proud to have her as a wife.”
Noyemi sat silently. She didn’t try to interrupt me.
“You asked what other option you had, Noyemi. The only ones you mentioned were concubine, and whore. What about warrior? Nanaidh. Durra and Siret. Berit and Fimi. All chose their own path.”
“You didn’t deserve to be enslaved. But think for a moment: you’ve been freed from your father, and your brother. No one will force you to marry against your will. And you have my word: on the day that Borna allows it, I will give you your freedom.”
“You might be surprised to find how many men would be willing to marry you. But that’s the whole point. You won’t have to. You can choose what you want. Marry, or don’t. Choose your own path. Yes, it’s frightening - but it can be wonderful, too.”
That was all I had to say. I left her sitting there. It didn’t feel like a retreat or headlong flight, this time.
Maigon struck back sooner than we had expected. But he didn’t attack us directly. Instead, he raided small hamlets and isolated farms on the very edge of the territory that had once been Gosdan’s.
We saw columns of smoke. Then, refugees began to arrive at the steading.
Manahir’s grandson and his warriors were burning, looting and killing. People who lived anywhere near the targeted areas were afraid that they’d be next. Families came in every day, with tales of what had happened to their neighbours.
This created a serious problem for us. There were simply too many mouths to feed, and fewer resources to feed them with. Kawehka and Tsoline continued my education, and introduced me to plants I would never have known were edible.
Bedstraw and bracken (which you might know as cleavers and fiddleheads). Chickweed and clover. Plantain, speedwell and stinging nettles. Some of these had to be cooked twice, after a change of water. Others could lead to diarrhea if eaten in large quantities. But we collected food wherever we could find it.
The only bright spot was that we gained four new warriors. Three of them were really only seeking a safe place for their families, but we weren’t about to question their motives too thoroughly.
And we discussed ways of striking back.
Borna was adamant, however, about one thing. “No burning, no rape, no killing of innocents. I’ll listen to any other suggestion, but not those.”
- “Ambush them when they come.” said Dirayr.
- “Fifty of them?” said Priit. The refugees were unanimous on that subject. The raiders always came in large numbers.
- “This is a new style of warfare.” I said. “They’ve crossed the line. Several lines. I would be willing to bet that some of their own warriors aren’t happy about that.”
- “How does that help us?” asked Dirayr.
- “We go the opposite way. To something traditional. Timeless. A way of fighting that everyone respects. We raid their horse herd.”
Hravar leaned forward, and took my head between his hands. Then he kissed me, smacking loudly, on both cheeks.
- “I love this man!” he said.
- “I don’t get it.” said Dirayr.
- “Think, Dirayr!” said Hravar. “It’s traditional. Warriors will respect that. We won’t be killing defenceless farmers. Maigon will look like a brigand, while Borna looks like a defender of traditional values. An old-fashioned warlord, like the guslars sing about.”
Lovro was also in favour. “If we can steal some of their horses, it also hampers their ability to make these large-scale raids. And what better way to train some of the women, and the newcomers?”
- “But best of all,” I interrupted, “it hurts Manahir’s prestige.” A Hospodar, and a Ban even more so, was known for rewarding his followers with horses. The number of horses a Lord owned was usually commensurate with the number of fighters he could support.
Borna now had many more horses than he had warriors. We would try to place Manahir in the opposite predicament.
- “I love it!” enthused Hravar. “You’re an ugly turd, Ljudevit, but now I understand why you’re the Hand.”
Borna insisted on leading in person, despite his injured foot.
- “It’s not so bad.” he claimed. “Besides, I won’t need it as much, on horseback. And people have to see me leading - especially the newest of our folk.”
I wasn’t convinced.
“Alright. I really need to see Manahir’s territory. We may have to fight there someday. I have to see it for myself.”
- “You just thought of that now.” I said.
- “It’s still a good reason.” he replied, with a grin.
We took a mixture of veterans and the least capable riders - the young men, and the women. There were twenty of us, in the end, that rode out at midday.
Borna’s luck held. We went undetected until we were well into enemy territory. The first person to see us, on our second day out, was a simple shepherd. Borna decided to speak to him.
- “Which way to the horse pastures?” he asked.
The shepherd scratched his head. “Why d’ye wanna know?”
- “We’re here to steal from Manahir.” said Borna. He pointed at me. “My friend here wants to steal sheep. But I say we should take horses instead. What do you think?”
The shepherd looked at me with alarm. I gave him my best sheep-stealing ruffian expression. He was a simple fellow, but no fool.
- “The herds is that way.” He pointed to the southwest. “None so far, if ye’re ridin’.”
- “Thank you very much.” said Borna.
It grew dark, and we had to decide whether to stop for the night, or to carry on, and risk losing our way. Borna resolved that issue by stopping at the first homestead we found. He politely asked the terrified farmer and his family for directions.
They had seen columns of smoke from Maigon’s burning on our lands, and believed that we were here to retaliate. Borna’s question caught them completely off-guard.
So they told him exactly where we could find Manahir’s pastures. Borna gave them two silver coins, and they shared their food with us.
- “This has to be the most polite horse raid ever.” said Lovro.
It wasn’t difficult after that. Maigon had put guards on his grandfather’s horse herds. But the four men were sitting around a fire, which we could see from miles away.
They were drinking and telling stories when a dozen of us approached on foot. It was more than a little embarrassing, to find themselves surrounded, without a weapon to hand.
One of our four prisoners was a man we had captured after the battle with Vazrig. Borna had released him, after he swore an oath not to fight against us in future.
- “This is just guarding horses.” he was quick to assure us. “Not fighting against you.”
Borna agreed. He extracted the same oath from the other three.
- “What if I refuse?” asked a skinny, long-haired youth.
- “I’m not going to kill you.” said Borna. “Any oath given when your life hangs on the answer could hardly be fair, could it? But if you won’t swear to live in peace with me, when I could kill you, I would have to take you prisoner.”
- “For how long?” asked the youth.
- “Hmm. Probably until the fight between me and Manahir’s kin is over. Meaning, when they’re all dead. I hope that will be soon, but it could take some time.”
- “I’ll swear the oath, then.”
- “Good choice.” said Lovro.
We took thirty-three horses.
We knew for certain that we had stung Manahir. Maigon stepped up his raids, hitting multiple farms in a single night. It was Hravar who figured out that they were splitting up, separating into smaller parties, and spreading out to harry a wider area.
Borna took us all out, on horseback. It was easy enough to find them, as they guided us with the fires they set.
We caught four of them only moments after they had murdered a herder and his family. Borna had all four killed - but we shaved their heads before beheading them.
Then we found a second party, looting an abandoned house. One saw us coming, and managed to flee. We didn’t pursue: Borna didn’t want to run into an enemy force the same size or larger than ours. But we did catch two more raiders, and meted out the same punishment.
It may have not seemed like much of a defence, considering how much damage Maigon’s raiders were doing. But they now had six fewer horses, and six fewer warriors. Or murderers, depending on your viewpoint.
From then on, the enemy did not burn so widely. They were more careful, travelling only in a single large group, with many of them watching for us, rather than looting and killing.
More refugees came to the forest (we had not moved back into the steading). But in addition to the non-combatants, we began to see a new type of arrivals. Men came, bearing weapons, usually in pairs, though occasionally it was a single individual, or a trio. They asked to speak to Borna. And they offered to join him.
The odd thing about this was that we didn’t know these men. They weren’t from our lands. They came from Asrava’s territory, or even from Manahir’s. Two were woodsmen, from another forest four days’ walk away. Three were young men who should have gone to Manahir. Two came from Yelsa, further south.
- “We want to serve Borna.” they said.
But they weren’t the most unusual. That prize had to go to Aare. He had the palest skin I had ever seen, and a wide-brimmed hat that would rival Hravar’s old helmet for ugliness.
- “I wish to fight for Borna.” he said.
- “Wait: I know that voice. Didn’t we capture you, when you were guarding horses?” I asked.
- “That’s right.” he said. He showed no trace of embarrassment. With skin so fair, a blush would have been immediately evident.
- “And you balked at taking an oath not to fight against us.”
- “Yes. Until Borna explained that the alternative was captivity.”
- “And now you want to fight for Borna?”
- “That’s right.”
- “Would it surprise you if I asked why?”
Aare took a deep breath. “I doubt that my three companions will honour their oaths.” he said. “And many laughed at me when I said that I would. Maigon told me that I was going on the next raid against you - whether I liked it or not.”
He took a deep breath. “I didn’t like that. It seems wrong, to be forced to break an oath, by someone you’ve sworn an oath to.”
- “I see: how can he honour your first oath, if he clearly doesn’t respect the second?”
- “Exactly. And Borna seems to be a man who would respect my oath. I’ve left Manahir’s service.”
- “I think Borna will enjoy meeting you.” I said.
He did. Aare was still young, and skinny. He was not very strong, and not particularly quick, either. His long reddish hair made him look like a girl, at first sight, or from a distance. But Aare was earnest, and intense, as only the young can be. Borna took a liking to him, and often kept him nearby.
I had no objection; I liked him, too. But one thing did worry me. I spoke to Lovro and Hravar about it.
- “What if he was a spy?” I asked.
- “You think he’s a spy?” said Lovro.
- “No. But I mean ‘what if he was’? Or what if he was an assassin?”
- “Like me, you mean.” said Hravar.
- “No. We knew you. It was painfully obvious that something was wrong with you. And I don’t mistrust Aare. I think he’s exactly what he seems to be. I’m worried about the next stranger who comes to join us.”
- “Somebody sent to kill Borna, you mean.” said Hravar. “Like I was.”
- “Only someone we don’t know.” I added.
- “Those two from Yelsa?” asked Lovro.
- No, they’re alright.” said Hravar. Then he frowned. “Or are they? Shit, Ljudevit, now I’m going to be suspecting everyone.”
- “That’s not what I’m suggesting. We just need to be more careful with Borna, and who gets close to him. I’m his Hand - but I’m not always there.”
- “We’ll help you.” said Lovro.
There was another, even more unusual arrival. He wore a blue tunic, and a yellow cloak (both colours which we saw infrequently). He carried no weapons at all, only a cloth sack strung over his shoulder.
He was young, dark-haired, and fairly short. His eyes were bright blue, and his face rather handsome.
- “I seek Borna Vrej.” he said.
- “I’m Borna.” I said. This was one defence we had agreed on. I would pretend to be Borna at first, in case any of the newcomers arrived with bad intentions.
The short fellow merely examined me at length.
- “You don’t look like Borna.” he said. He spoke very slowly, pronouncing each word clearly.
- “Don’t I? And how would you know what I look like? Have we met before?”
- “No.” he admitted. “But I have spoken to several who have. And you are not a match for their descriptions.”
- “Is that so?” I said. “You’ve been talking to people, have you? Why?”
He took the sack from his shoulder, and reached inside it. He produced a gusle.
“You’re a guslar?”
- “I have that honour.” he said.
- “What’s your name?” I asked.
- “I am called Imants. Imants of Adarion.”
Adarion was the Hvadi province closest to Izumyr. I didn’t recognize this guslar’s name, but he was very young. He might have been just starting out.
But the arrival of a guslar was significant. I apologized immediately.
- “You’re right, Master Guslar.” I said. “I’m not Borna. My name is Ljudevit. This is ... just a precaution, with so many strangers joining us.”
- “Borna’s Hand?” said Imants. “Your name is known.”
- “You’ve heard of me?” I was surprised.
- “Your Lord’s fame is spreading. I would very much like to speak with you, Ljudevit, if you can spare the time. There is much I would know; and much that I wish to verify.”
I was stunned. The arrival of a guslar was significant, of course. But I wasn’t thinking only of the entertainment he could provide. Guslars sang songs, and recited poems. Their favourite subjects were the deeds of men of valour.
Many men were greedy for gold, or women. This is probably true in other lands, too. But few Hvadi could resist the allure of fame. No guslar would sing of how much money a man acquired. Instead, they could, and did celebrate great deeds, courage, and generosity. Men could come to be immortalized in this way.
If this Imants wanted to talk with me, it could only be about Borna. That meant that he was working on a song, or a poem - and that Borna was his subject. This could prove invaluable. I brought Imants straight to Borna.
They took to one another immediately. Neither was blind to the advantages of cultivating the other, but I do believe that there was genuine liking between them. That very night, Imants agreed to sing for us.
He performed two old favourites, and did a very good job with them. We’d heard them before, of course, but Imants added a few details which were new, without losing any of the flavour of the originals. The applause was well-earned.
Then he played a song we had never heard before. It was called Borna Vrej.
He described the treachery of Asrava, the betrayal of Gosdan and Antras, and the taking of their heads - which he expressed in terms of absolute repugnance. Obviously, he had not performed this piece for Manahir and his grandsons.
Imants sang of Borna’s escape, and then his decision to strike back immediately. Khoren and I were briefly mentioned. He was referred to as ‘strong-arm’d Khoren’; I was ‘brave Ljudevit’, so that the metre matched.
The song told of our daring attack on Asrava’s steading, where we vanquished double the number of foes who had actually been there.
Our folk loved it. Imants became the most popular person among us overnight. He was young, but showed promise. His voice was deep, and resonant. He had that certain quality - a kind of solemnity - which made his performance seem serious, and important.
I wondered, though, how Noyemi would take it, since her father appeared as the principal villain of the piece.
- “You alright?” I asked her.
- “Yes. Why?” she replied. “Oh: the song? It was very well done. He has a good voice.”
- “Borna asked me to look after the guslar.” I said. “I’ll need your help - yours and Kanni’s.”
Noyemi nodded. “I’ll help.”
After that, the guslar followed Borna nearly everywhere he went, silently observing. When he had the opportunity, he asked questions. Imants was already surprisingly well-informed, but there were topics about which he knew very little, such as our battle against Vazrig, or our most recent raid.
- “You’ve certainly stolen quite a few horses.” he said.
- “Worth a song?” asked Borna, with a grin.
- “Perhaps. If I can find a better title than ‘The Polite Raid’.” said Imants.
When Borna was too busy, the guslar would ask me for a story, or for more detail about a story he already knew of. He also followed Lovro, Dirayr and Priit, and was more than ready to sit with Kanni and Noyemi. He spent time with Hravar, and with Nanaidh, too.
But I was his most frequent target, because I was Borna’s Hand, and had known him from childhood. I’d been there from the beginning. And that led to me being featured in one of his songs.
We were by the well, in the steading. Imants was asking me, for the eleventh time, about Borna’s childhood. Noyemi sat nearby, listening politely. Or perhaps she was interested; she had not heard most of these stories before. It was a warm day, so I was drawing some water for us.
Aigars and another man were on watch at the gates that day. I saw Aigars approaching with three strangers, each leading a horse.
- “Three new men.” he declared. “They’ve come to see Borna.” He couldn’t bring himself to tell a little lie, and introduce me as Borna.
- “Then you’ve come to the right place.” I said, standing a little straighter. It’s remarkably difficult to look like a warlord when you’re holding a bucket. And unarmed.
- “Want me to water your horses?” offered Aigars.
- “S’a’right.” said one of the men. “We wanted to show them to Borna.”
- “Suit yerself.” said Aigars. He walked off towards the gate.
That was my first inkling that something was amiss. Only Dirayr would have turned down a friendly offer to water his horse. At first glance, I couldn’t see anything special about these particular horses. All of our other new recruits had come on foot. Hospodars gave their men mounts; how had these men earned theirs?
- “Where have you come from?” I asked them.
- “East of here.” said the first man. “Near t’the Uplands.”
His answer didn’t sit well with me. That was when I noticed something about the horses. The Uplands were at least three full days’ ride away; yet these men’s mounts looked relatively fresh. It was past mid-day. Had they been ridden from far away, their horses should have been hot, sweaty, and thirsty.
They were looking at me oddly.
- “Everything alright?” I asked.
- “It’s just ... you’re not quite what I was expecting.” said the same fellow.
- “That’s exactly what I said, when we first met.” said Imants.
I laughed, and introduced them to him.
- “You have a guslar?”
- “Imants is our guest.” I answered. “Speaking of which, I’ve been remiss. Noyemi: would you get some food for our guests?” I reached out a hand, and helped her to her feet. I pulled her close, as if I was kissing her cheek.
“And send the first warriors you see to me.” I whispered.
“You fellows thirsty?” I asked, loudly.
- “I wouldn’t say no to a drink.” said the first of them. He was the only one who had spoken. But I had not lost sight of the others. The first two handed their reins to the third, the youngest-looking of the trio. Then they came around the well.
By now I was fully alert. Most people, when they first meet Borna, act very differently. They can’t take their eyes off him, for one thing. They are finally seeing the man they have come (sometimes from a great distance) to see. Or they talk to him, telling him who they are, and why they have come.
This held true even when it was only me, impersonating Borna. But these three had relatively little to say; they were also looking about the steading more than they were at me. There was nothing remarkable or unusual about this place, that it should attract their attention. They were acting too casually, as well. I didn’t expect them to be fearful, or intimidated, but they were meeting a Hospodar, after all.
In hindsight, I suppose that I could have simply dropped the bucket and run for help. It would have looked quite odd, though, if these three men were innocent. I must admit that my first thought was to get Noyemi away from them, and my second was that I shouldn’t leave Imants alone.
Guslars were neutral in any feud, and should not be harmed. But I couldn’t forget the fate of Teeth, Gosdan’s guslar.
By the time these thoughts had flashed through my head, and I’d sent Noyemi on her way, the two men were approaching. The leader began to talk, telling me that he knew of more people that were on their way.
The second man came around the well in the opposite direction. Behind me.
I smiled at the first one, though I was no longer paying attention to what he was saying. I was busy pouring the water back into the well. Then I spun on my heel. The second man was six feet away, and his hand was on the hilt of his knife.
So I continued to spin, and swung the empty bucket at his head. Who expects to be attacked with a bucket? I caught him a good whack on the side of the head, and knocked him to the dirt. That bucket was solidly built.
I spun around in the other direction, and swung the bucket, but the talker hopped back a step, and drew his own weapon.
The horse-holder dropped the reins, and sprinted around the well, aiming to come up behind me. He pulled out an axe as he ran. Imants was backing away, but he was also shouting for help.
Talker lunged at me with his blade, but I swung the bucket at his extended arm. We both missed.