A Dubious Peace

by Olan Thorensen

  He didn’t immediately respond, digesting the news. Maera waited impatiently, tapping her right foot on the plank flooring.

  “Let’s go sit somewhere and think about this,” he said. “There’s several small offices downstairs. At least one of them is likely empty right now.”

  A minute later, they sat at a small table. No office had been empty, but Yozef asked one room’s lone occupant if they could kindly use the room. The middle-aged woman acquiesced, saying she had something else to do.

  “Any word from Eina on the reason for the change?”

  Maera snapped her head around, dark brown tresses swinging over the forest-green dress. “Nothing. A Fuomi officer came from Adris City with a message for her. She didn’t say what the entire contents were, but she’s ordered to vacate the ambassador residence for his arrival in three days.”

  Yozef frowned. “Well . . . that’s imperious and possibly not a good sign. Does this mean that Eina is out of favor and being recalled to Fuomon? I’d hate for that to happen. I’ve gotten accustomed to her being here. She’s been an asset in both giving advice and helping us set up the university. I guess the basic question is what is Fuomon up to?”

  “Again, no details on what Eina’s change in status means for her, but evidently she’ll be staying. For one thing, that means her family will have to find another residence. I know they liked where they lived in Orosz City. It was with some reluctance they moved into the ambassador residence. I suppose that part is for the good . . . I know their two sons were not happy to move outside the walls.”

  “And what about a message to me?” Yozef asked. “I don’t know the usual protocol, but I would have thought such a change would have included notification to the local authority . . . which in this case is me as the Paramount.”

  “I agree,” Maera said. “Not a good sign.”

  “Well . . . she was not sent here initially to be a formal ambassador but as an adviser to the original expedition’s commander, Rintala. Maybe this is nothing to worry about. It might even be considered an upgrade in our relationship with Fuomon to have a professional ambassador.”

  Yozef didn’t need Maera to reply. He could read her dubious expression.

  Saisannin Residence

  Five days later, Paavo Saisannin poured his wife another two fingers of the Fuomon spirit she preferred. She had downed the first shot without pausing to speak, an uncharacteristic action.

  “Thank you, Paavo,” Eina said. “We've expected that Fuomon would eventually decide whether it was worth cultivating a more formal association with Caedellium. If yes, they would send a regular ambassador—perhaps someone with more experience than me within the diplomatic corps. Otherwise, we all would eventually be recalled home, and Caedellium left to its own future without Fuomon. What I didn’t foresee was being replaced by a political appointee so obviously lacking in experience or brains.”

  “Is he really that bad, dear?”

  “He may be worse. The obvious first sign was that his message here simply announced his arrival and ordered us to move out of the embassy within three days. Who does that, except someone too enthralled with his own importance? Simple common sense would be to send a message of his arrival and wait for me to respond. I probably should have answered that I could go to Adris City to meet him or volunteered that we would move from the ambassador’s residence, and could he give us a few days to move and have the residence cleaned for him?

  “I suppose I held out a shred of hope that it was a one-time happening, and he was better than I feared. That got quashed at the meeting today. Which, I point out, was two full days after he got here, as if I were an incidental matter.”

  Paavo patted her arm. “I can understand the personal offense, but you usually put such things aside. It’s one of the many things I’ve always admired about you—staying professional.”

  “I know, I know. Don’t think I’m not aware. I’ve dealt with such people as Koskanin before. Political appointees whose only qualifications are who they know, or which family or faction supports them. I know the diplomatic corps has had some of those, and I’ve experienced them, thankfully not as often as could have happened. Therefore, I asked myself why this bothers me so much.

  “To honest, I think it’s partly because I’ve put so much of myself into working with the Caedelli. I’d hoped my reports would have convinced people at home of Caedellium’s potential importance. Perhaps they thought I haven’t gotten as much information out of Yozef as I should have. Maybe they’re right. I don’t know. If they just wanted us to return, why send Koskanin and more warships? And his staff size? I came with only two assistants, but no one expected me to fill an ambassadorial role. I still don’t have a valid estimate on how many people he brought with him, but it’s far more than seems reasonable. I suspect a good number of them have a history as spies or have served in intelligence departments.”

  “And how much of the way you feel is because of your personal feelings toward the Caedelli?”

  Eina sighed. “Oh . . . quite a bit, I’m sure. Yes . . . I like most of them, especially Maera and Yozef, but I honestly think they have the potential to be important in Fuomon’s struggle against the Narthani. I’ve told you I’m sometimes conflicted that maybe I think more about helping Caedellium than getting information out of them for Fuomon. I should have pushed Reimo for more data.

  “There’s something else. The three Amerikans tell the same story about how they came to be abducted by unknown parties, for unknown purposes, transported an unknown distance, and abandoned naked on deserted beaches. The same story for three widely separated locations. I couldn’t rule out that they are direct participants in some larger secret of unknown purpose, but I’ve talked with them separately enough that I believe each is telling the truth. If I’m right, then why should we think they are the only three? Envision a map of Anyar and the locations where they claim to have woken. It’s almost as if the sites were selected for being so far apart. Shouldn’t we suspect others like themselves were left on beaches of Melosia . . . even Krinolin?”

  “A disturbing thought, Eina—either Yozef or Mark in the hands of the Narthani. Mark’s reason for leaving Frangel was because the Narthani were trying to capture him. If you’re right, and there are others like the three Amerikans on Caedellium, then I would assume the Narthani are searching elsewhere. You need to include this possibility in your reports to Fuomon. Checking for people with similar stories of abandonment could be done in Fuomon, and we should be able to have the Harrasedics do the same, although I don’t know if telling them the entire truth would be best. And Krinolin? Yes, best to be thorough, but getting the Krinolinese to cooperate on anything would likely fail. Have you reported this possibility to Fuomon? Maybe you should also talk with Koskanin.”

  She snorted. “I get the sense he’s so narrow-minded that he would have no interest. As for reporting home . . . that’s something to consider, but I’d like to give it more thought.”

  She grinned. “And there’s the mystery of Yozef Kolsko. He alone was curious enough, but now there are two more of these Amerikans. Trying to figure them out is both intriguing and frustrating.”

  “So, what do you think, Eina? Is Koskanin going to order you back to Fuomon? Even if he’s as you say, he couldn’t be stupid enough to lose the person who best knows the Caedelli and Kolsko. Well . . . maybe you and Kivalian. And there’s the issue we’ve thought more about the last few months. When are we going home? We’ve already been gone long enough that our daughters’ children are growing up without us knowing them. And what about our sons? Steegum and Huron are young enough and have been here long enough that they might have trouble fitting in back home if we stay here too much longer.”

  When Eina remained silent, Paavo waited over a minute before continuing.

  “Unless you have thoughts about not leaving Caedellium.”

  “Would that really be the worst thing?” she said.

  “We’re Fuomi,” he said, “no
matter how much both of us admire the Caedelli for how they repulsed the Narthani. When we left home, I know both of us believed it was for a few years before returning.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel, Paavo. It creeps into my mind that when we return, we’ll assume our previous places. I would never want to travel to so distant a land again. At the time, it seemed like an adventure to join the expedition, plus possible advancement when we returned. I find myself wondering what I would accomplish back in Fuomon that has any likelihood of approaching the potential of whatever happens here on Caedellium. I know I’d spend the rest of my life wondering about this island’s fate, along with its people.”

  Paavo smiled. “What I hear is you would feel you have gone from witnessing great events to hearing about them from a distance and perhaps well after they’ve happened.”

  “Yes, there’s something to that, Paavo, but how do you feel about our time here? Are you eager to return home? I hope I’ve told you enough times how much I appreciate that you’ve put your own work aside so frequently to accommodate me.”

  “I accepted the recognition long ago that you were going to do greater things than me, an unexceptional historian who would otherwise spend his years teaching at lesser schools. I have no regrets.”

  He paused, gazed into an imaginary distance, and sat back in his chair as if withdrawing. Eina recognized his expression as gathering himself to tell her something new—something that might surprise her.

  “You know I can be easily occupied sitting and reading old writings and records. There’s something about it that makes me feel part of the past leading up to today.” He smiled. “Maybe my look to the past complements yours to the present and future.

  “Anyway, I haven’t said anything, but the last few months I’ve been following up on something I stumbled across in the cellar archives at St. Wyan’s Cathedral. It has to do with how the people of Caedellium came to be on this island and the early history here. There are many gaps. To pursue it further, I would need to get access to similar archives in other provinces, something I’ve planned on talking with you about in getting Yozef’s support. I’ll give you more details later, but I mention it now because . . . personally . . . I wouldn’t mind staying on Caedellium longer. What I think I’m finding is nothing Anyar-shaking, but the historian in me has gotten fascinated. Of course, that’s for me. It doesn’t answer the questions about our children, our sons here and daughters back in Fuomon.”

  “Yes, I’ll want to hear more, Paavo, but as for our predicament, there’s no immediate rush to make decisions. Yet it is something we need to settle, perhaps in the next six months at the latest. That’s assuming I don’t get ordered home sooner by Koskanin or poison him one day.”

  The Saisannins laughed, clicked freshly recharged glasses, and resumed family life with the entrance of their two boisterous sons returning from school.

  Beers for Two at the Snarling Graeko

  Yozef and Reimo Kivalian sat alone at an alcove table. Minutes earlier, at Yozef’s request, Carnigan and Synton had moved to a nearby table such that anyone approaching the Paramount would pass by them first. Up to then, it had been a convivial evening honoring Kivalian’s returning to Orosz City two days previous. He had spent almost a month traveling through Caedellium and inspecting provinces’ militia units, which were required to be mobilizable on short notice.

  The Fuomi marine officer had provided valuable advice during the war, which included helping Yozef develop a crash course in military tactics. What Yozef could remember of tactics came from reading and members of a military gaming clique he hung out with as a teenager. Those memories were combined with Kivalian’s formal training and experience. The course had been expanded after the war, and Kivalian was all but part of Caedellium’s military command structure.

  “How did Elsik manage while you were gone, Reimo?” asked Yozef. “I know Anarynd looked in on her regularly, but I’m sure Elsik is relieved you’re back.”

  Kivalian grimaced. “Yelled at me for being gone so long as soon as I entered the door. Then proceeded to smother me in hugs and kisses. I don’t blame her. If everything continues going well, she’ll give birth in another two months. I didn’t like being gone that long, but now I won’t travel again for at least three or four months.

  “I’m also glad to be back to give my ass a rest. I like riding horses, but it’s all I’ve done for the last sixdays. I rode province to province, spent a day or two with the clan militia ready units, which involved riding with them on maneuvers, and then rode on to the next province. You’ve read my report, and we talked when I got back. It’s Nyvaks and Vandinke who are the most problematic—as we anticipated. Neither hetman is truly committed to fulfilling the obligation to have units as ready as required.”

  “Well . . . we may have to eventually do something about Nyvaks,” said Yozef. “Hetman Vandinke is hardly a surprise. He’s been a pain in the ass ever since I first saw him at an All-Clan Conclave. I suppose I could pay him a visit. The last time it got him moving for a few months, but I think the solution to Vandinke will come when we extend the rail line to the ore ranges surrounding Vandork, the capital. It’ll be easier for me to visit and force more regular interaction with other provinces. However, I’m glad to hear Elsik is well.”

  Yozef was interested in Elsik’s well-being, but he now moved on to his main reason for talking alone with Kivalian.

  “I haven’t said this before, Reimo, but I hope you know that you would have a permanent place here on Caedellium should you decide to stay.”

  Yozef refrained from using words like defect or even immigrate. He wanted Kivalian to come to a decision without prompting. Still . . . he needed to state that the option was welcomed.

  “I’m grappling with the future, Yozef. Part of me wishes I’d never taken up with Elsik. At first, it was a simple dalliance with a pleasant and willing Caedelli woman. She hasn’t been the first. She knew that from the beginning. Then, as the months passed, it’s slowly become more. Of course, and now a child is coming. She’s not pushed me, but she’s made it clear, indirectly, that she has no intention of leaving Caedellium and moving to Fuomon.

  “Then there’s that damn Koskanin. The first sixday he was here, I had two meetings with him. Neither went well, and the last was the worst. He called into question my loyalty to Fuomon . . . that turbler.”

  Yozef suppressed a smile from the reference to an act a certain type of man might perform with a krykor.

  “I would not be surprised if he ordered me back to Fuomon any day. It might only be because of Eina that he hasn’t done that already. I suspect they’ve had some intense discussions about me. He seemed to be avoiding me before I left for the militia survey.”

  “I don’t expect you to give away anything sensitive, Reimo, but do you have any sense of why Koskanin was sent or what his intentions are?”

  Reimo shook his head. “Not that I’m privy to his thinking . . . that’s assuming what goes on in his head qualifies. No . . . no clue. Maybe Eina knows more, but if she does, she isn’t sharing it with me. One thing I do warn you about. Be careful of Namaki—one of Koskanin’s staff. He’s a slimy one. He’s the type of man you wouldn’t put anything past him doing, no matter your imagination.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if Namaki is trying to develop spies all over the island. Probably to gather information about things he and Koskanin think you’re hiding.” Kivalian paused and took a large quaff of beer, then looked around sharply as if to check whether anyone was listening. “Again, I know nothing, but I wonder if he has a mission here that will have unknown consequences for Caedellium.”

  Yozef didn’t respond. He and Maera had briefly discussed the same suspicion and decided they would talk with the most devious people he knew after gathering them in Orosz City: Gartherid and Isla Kennrick, Owill Brell, and Sissel Morgen. The four had been leaders of the Military Intelligence Unit (MIU) during the Narthani War. Then the six of them would consider what to do with Irvo
d Koskanin.

  CHAPTER 20

  SUCCESS AND DISCORD

  Preddi City

  Balwis recognized the expression as soon as he looked up from his desk to see Savronel Storlini walk into his office. The ordinarily taciturn ex-Narthani had picked up an annoying mannerism from Wyfor Kales—wry humor when bringing news likely to exasperate the hetman.

  Balwis managed to suppress a snarl . . . barely.

  “What is it? No, don’t tell me. Come back tomorrow. Maybe whatever it is will have vanished by then. Maybe the Narthani landed a new army, and I’ll be too busy for whatever this is. Maybe I’ll be struck by lightning on the way home tonight.”

  “All those are possible, hetman, but they’re in the future. Right now, you have to deal with the fact that Rhanjur Gaya has returned from Munjor.”

  Balwis’s forehead wrinkled. “Why do I have to deal with Gaya now?”

  “Actually, it isn’t so much Gaya as the hundred new immigrants to Caedellium he brought with him.”

  “What!?”

  “Oh . . . sorry. I didn’t speak clearly. I said, ‘Actually, it isn’t so much Gaya as the hundred new immigrants to Caedellium he brought with him.’”

  This time, Balwis did snarl. “And quit trying to be a poor imitation of Wyfor. His mannerisms are ingrained in him and don’t work for you. Now . . . try this again. Gaya has returned and he’s brought a shipload of . . . what? A hundred Munjorians who want to immigrate to Caedellium?”

  “That’s correct. The exact number is 103—mainly men, some of whom have their families with them. The tally includes 43 craftsmen of different trades and 13 Munjorian versions of Caedelli scholastics. I was meeting with the harbormaster when the ship docked. That’s when I talked with Gaya. It looks like the Munjorians have agreed to Yozef’s plan to take skilled immigrants as partial payment for exports to Munjor.”