A Dubious Peace

by Olan Thorensen

  Maera glanced briefly at Yozef. She had been tempted to ask Bomer if he understood why Yozef’s and Mark’s ideas worked, but she wasn’t sure how much they shared with the site director. Her impression, and based on Yozef’s opinions, was that Bomer was an outstanding manager, but she didn’t know whether he understood any of the chemistry Yozef used to explain the process.

  She hadn’t had time to pay attention to all the chemistry her husband was introducing. Yet she had learned enough to understand the chemical symbolism he used and the array of basic elements, many of which had been unrecognized before Yozef. The chalk, also called limestone by Yozef when they were alone, was made up of calcium carbonate—symbolized by CaC03. In the blast furnace, the iron oxides were converted to iron, symbolized as Fe, through a series of steps involving carbon and oxygen.

  She had suggested to Yozef that he use symbols based on the Caedelli language, instead of his own English. He answered that his knowledge of chemistry was based on English, and he had enough to do without confusing himself with new symbols. He also pointed out that as the knowledge spread to other realms on Anyar, whether he used English or Caedelli symbols would not make a difference.

  “Of course, Sen Kolsko, the Paramount may have explained that as impressive as all this may look, the intention is to expand into much larger production. But before we do that, we have to work out all the details. If it were anyone except Paramount Kolsko, I would tell them and everyone else that they are foolish to carry on with even the existing expansion before we’re positive it will all work. Nearby are several furnaces in the early stages of construction, along with other facilities you haven’t seen yet.”

  Bomer shook his head. “As I said, only with the Paramount would I and all the workers here believe this would work right from the start.”

  Two hours later, Bomer ended the tour. Maera and Yozef left by horse carriage to return to Penmawr for a private dinner with the hetman’s family. They would leave by ship the next morning for Seaborn.

  Maera said, “Bomer and the other workers have total confidence in you, Yozef. I don’t envy you for that. But be honest with me. Were you really that confident to begin with?”

  Yozef smiled wryly. “I was confident I knew the basic principles. I just didn’t know the details, and those are always critical. Oh . . . Bomer and the others would have eventually worked it out, but I can’t estimate how many years it might’ve taken. It was Mark showing up that made the difference. I knew the aspects related to chemistry, and he filled in the mechanics of the process just from his engineering experience. There is still time for things to go wrong, but I don’t think anything is stopping us.

  “I have to tell you, Maera, that this is one of the projects we’re pushing ahead in just a few years what took my people many decades to reach. That’s the advantage of knowing what’s possible and knowing enough details.”

  “And you’re still set that once you have full-sized facilities, the steel production priorities will be all-steel rails and the steam engine projects?”

  “I haven’t changed my reasoning. Those two will give us rapid transport throughout the island and the power to run so many other projects. In a way, it’s a similar argument to the way Mark explained lathes. It builds on itself. Once we had the first lathe working, building more of the same, then bigger and better ones, was relatively fast compared to the first one. It also let us branch out and make other machine tools, all of which are indispensable for steam engines and several other projects.”

  Penmawr to Brudermyn

  The Pewitt honor-and-security platoon lined the gangway leading to the Fuomi sloop that would carry them to the Seaborn capital, Brudermyn. A gaggle of musicians imitating a band played something unrecognizable to Yozef, and several thousand clanspeople crowded the wharf to see the Paramount off. Topping the spectacle, to Yozef’s disgust, was a platform where Hetman Pewitt and other dignitaries waited.

  “Oh, God,” Yozef moaned softly. “He’ll want me to give a speech.”

  “You know my answer,” said Maera, choking back a laugh.

  “Yeah, yeah. Suck it up.”

  “And remember to speak up so everyone can hear you.”

  “Maybe you should give the speech.”

  “Make me the Paramount, and I will.”

  He squeezed her hand. “One day, dear. Maybe not in our lifetimes, but one day.”

  An endless hour later, the sloop drifted away from its moorings, caught the wind in the few unfurled sails, and edged out of Penmawr harbor. Yozef and Maera listened to the captain and the officers shout commands as additional sails were deployed. The couple stood with arms around each other as they waved at the cheering crowd.

  CHAPTER 30

  SEABORN PROVINCE

  Furwyn Sound

  The hundred-mile journey sailing west between Penmawr and Brudermyn usually took seven to eight hours with the prevailing easterly winds. The skies were clear the first sixty miles until they came within distant sight of land ahead, and Yozef thought he noticed a slight shift in the wind direction. The Fuomi captain shouted orders, and sailors scampered into the rigging to furl sets of sails.

  “We’ll have to hold a position until the wind changes again,” the captain said to Yozef. “The Seaborn man sent to guide us into Brudermyn says the Furwyn Sound is treacherous to enter when the wind is this hard in this direction. I haven’t sailed into the sound before, so I have to trust local knowledge. The man says this kind of wind shift is common as we near Seaborn. It should change again within a few hours.”

  Yozef mentally brought up a map of Seaborn. The province included three main islands and scores of rock formations, the latter mainly off the western coasts. Most of the population lived on South Island and the less densely populated East Island. North Island was the largest of the three, but its sparse population was due to jagged terrain that included peaks up to fourteen thousand feet. Nestled between the three islands was Furwyn Sound with Brudermyn on the north coast of South Island.

  The captain yelled again in Fuomi, and crewmen furled another set of sails. “The man says the sound acts like a funnel for the winds when they blow like they are right now. Gusts can surprise ships, catch sails, and push hulls against submerged rocks if you are not sure exactly where you are. I’m putting out a sea anchor to keep us from moving much farther than where we are now. We’ll still be drifting west, but if the wind doesn’t let up or change direction in the next hour or two, I’ll have to turn the ship and tack away from the sound.”

  “I’m assuming the ship is in no real danger, Captain,” said Yozef with only a hint of a question in his tone. He wondered whether the captain had special orders to take care with the Paramount.

  “Not at all, Paramount. We could actually move in closer to the east entrance of the sound, but there’s no reason to.”

  Yozef went to the captain’s cabin, which had been made available to him and Maera for the trip’s duration. She lay on the bed.

  “How are you feeling?” asked Yozef. “I forgot this is your first time at sea. It never occurred to me you might suffer from seasickness.”

  “It’s fine. I’m just about to go back on deck. I think the morning sickness and the rolling deck combined to make me queasy, but I’m feeling much better now. Am I imagining it, or has the ship’s motion changed?”

  “The Seaborn guide advised the captain to wait for the wind to change before we enter Furwyn Sound and the last forty miles to Brudermyn. They think we’ll still make the capital before dark.”

  Maera swung her legs off the bed and rose to her feet, swaying slightly in rhythm with the ship’s roll. “I’d like to get some air and walk. I think my problem was I forgot your advice to keep watching the horizon and not the deck. I had trouble adjusting to the deck motion. I’ll try and focus better this time.”

  Two hours later, Yozef wondered if they would be spending the night at sea. He looked around in time to see the captain approaching.

  “The gu
ide says the wind has dropped and shifted enough for us to proceed. We’ll keep to half sails, and if nothing else happens, we’ll make Brudermyn with the sun still up.”

  The captain’s estimate was correct. Within half an hour of the crew unfurling more sails, South Island’s coasts were visible off the port and East Island’s to starboard. Maera put an arm around Yozef’s waist and leaned into him.

  “The land seems fairly flat, although I get glimpses of distant mountains on South Island. I think I saw a town a while ago, but I’m not sure.”

  “Having second thoughts about coming?” asked Yozef. “This was a short trip. I think it’s a good plan for you to go straight home when we return to Penmawr to drop off the Pewitt dragoons who came with us. I could even cancel my circling north of Caedellium to the Gulf of Normot for the province visits.”

  She pulled her arm back and elbowed him sharply in the ribs. “And have people think the Paramount’s wife is such a weakling he has to escort her home? As I’ve heard you say, ‘Fuh-git-about it!’ I just don’t want you to get tempted by women throwing themselves at you when Ana and I aren’t around.”

  He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Oh . . . I think I have more than enough interactions with women as it is. I have the feeling both you and Anarynd would gut me for offending the other one if I strayed.”

  She pulled his head down using his beard and gave him a hard kiss. “You’ve got that right.”

  When Brudermyn came into view, Yozef was surprised that they kept sailing west.

  “We need to circle around reefs blocking a direct approach to the harbor from the east. I’m told another mile and we turn south.”

  An advantage to the unexpected detour appeared once they were past the city. By now, the sun sat low in the west and illuminated buildings that had been in shadow from the east. The architecture was striking and vastly different from what Yozef had imagined Brudermyn would be like. In his mind, the most remote and least populated province was poor and less developed than the other provinces. Brudermyn belied that image. The setting sun made the white stone glisten on at least half of the buildings in the city’s main section.

  Maera read his mind. “Doesn’t it remind you of the stone used in Abersford with the Cathedral and the Great Hall of the Keelans?”

  “Just what I was thinking,” said Yozef. “I’m surprised how many buildings here are made of such stone. I understood that it was expensive and rare, which is why you don’t see it very often on the main island.”

  They were a quarter-mile offshore when rowed tugs pulled them to the dock using hawsers. Waiting on shore was an evidently formal delegation that Yozef assumed included Hetman Seaborn, a tall, rangy redhead with gray streaks, standing flanked by men of various ages.

  “Maera, remind me again about the Seaborn population.”

  “About 20,000. The fewest of any province. Most are on South Island, with about 16,000. The rest are 3,000 on East Island and 1,000 on North Island. As the population indicates, North Island has limited land for farming.”

  “They sent a large fraction of their best fighting men to take part in the Battle of Orosz City,” said Yozef. “It was a significant contribution, and I have to be sure to let Hetman Seaborn know of our appreciation.”

  They studied the greeting assembly while sailors finished securing the ship to the pier.

  “No women,” murmured Maera. “I didn’t read anything about Seaborn that suggested this. There might need to be some work done here.”

  “It may be a formality thing,” said Yozef quietly. “I’ve so little experience with Seaborners that I can’t judge. I expected this to be a relatively conservative society with only men in leadership roles. In that case, you would only see mostly men at a first meeting between the hetman with his advisers and the Paramount.”

  “I don’t see any kind of honor guard,” said Maera.

  “Yeah. I noticed that. Synton’s plan was that the Pewitt men would debark first, but I’m afraid that might send the wrong signal to the Seaborners. What do you think? Should you, I, and our four guards go first and the Pewitt men after the introductions are done?”

  “I think that’s all right,” said Maera. “There’s only what . . . about nine or ten of them waiting for us and no obvious arms?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at their four guards: Carnigan with his usual fearsome appearance; Synton, who always looked like a carnivore searching for prey; and the more refined but also dangerous looks of Toowin Kales and Gowlin Reese. All were armed, as was Yozef almost everywhere he went that was new or where there was any question of security.

  Maera squeezed his arm. “It’s not like you and our four guards couldn’t handle that many, even if they did carry weapons.”

  Suddenly, their ears were assaulted. Yozef tensed and looked around. Maera laid a hand on his as he reached for the knife in his belt.

  “There, to the right, by the white building. It’s some kind of welcoming music, probably traditional. I read that Seaborn is known for drums and a large version of the skilun.”

  Yozef recognized men holding the Caedellium version of a bagpipe, with this version twice as large as any he’d seen before. Fortunately, whatever the piece of music was, it lasted only about a minute.

  “I hope that’s the only time we hear Seaborn music,” he said crossly.

  “I somehow doubt that,” said Maera, “and you’ll pretend you’re appreciative every time you hear it.”

  He groaned, just as a wide gangplank with banner-decorated rails moved into place.

  “That’s our cue,” he said and took Maera’s hand on his left. Together, they walked side by side to meet Hetman Seaborn. By the time they were halfway down the gangplank, half of the waiting men had begun small shuffling motions, and they all glanced back and forth among one another.

  It’s like Reezo when I first met him, thought Yozef. They’re unsure what the protocol is.

  Yozef raised his right hand above his shoulder in greeting and called out, “Hetman Seaborn! Thank you for meeting us. Brudermyn is a beautiful city, as we saw when our ship approached.”

  His gesture and words served to freeze the waiting men long enough for Yozef and Maera to reach the bottom of the gangplank and walk three more steps to Hetman Seaborn. Yozef held out his hand. Maera had not found any references to the customary Seaborn greeting between men. Depending on the province, men used either handshakes or forearm clasps. By going first, Yozef was letting Seaborn settle the unknown.

  It was a forearm clasp. Seaborn was several inches taller than Yozef. Up close, his red hair held more gray than Yozef had first thought, but there was no weakness in the dark blue eyes set in a lined and tanned narrow face.

  “Welcome to Seaborn, Paramount. We’re proud to have you visit our clan. It’s been too long that it hasn’t happened.”

  The last sentence had an edge to it. Yozef could tell that Maera was swallowing a laugh. She warned him that Yulan Seaborn was reputedly gruff and plainspoken.

  The hetman’s grasp was firm enough that Yozef would’ve preferred to end it, but he didn’t want to be the first to relax. He increased his own grip slightly until Seaborn almost smiled and released first, before turning to three young men to his right.

  “Let me introduce my sons. Santee is the heir.”

  A man the same height as his father took a half step forward. The resemblance was uncanny. He didn’t hold out his arm and stepped back quickly.

  Christ, Yozef thought, it’s like they clone people here. I’ll bet Santee’s older relatives wonder if he’s not an exact copy of Yulan when he was that age.

  “And these are my other sons, Mykroft and Reezo, who you’ve already met.”

  Mykroft was not an exact replica of his father, but the resemblance was still striking. Not so with Reezo. The youth was five or six inches shorter than the father and the brothers, he had a wider face, and his hair was black—not the red of the other three.

  Must take after his
mother, Yozef thought. And Mykroft? I always wondered where Sherlock Holmes’s brother lived. He suppressed the urge to snicker.

  Seaborn continued introducing the other men, most of whose names Yozef instantly forgot, but he knew Maera would drill him on their names as soon as they were alone. It was again noticeable that no women were present to be introduced.

  Then it was Yozef’s turn. “Thank you, Hetman. This is my wife, Maera Kolsko-Keelan. Beside her is Shurla Aston, who is a scholastic of clan histories. Shurla is interested in visiting your records and will be helping Maera in her meetings. Behind me are four good friends, Carnigan Puvey, Synton Ethlore, Toowin Kales, and Gowlin Reese.”

  Maera gave a slight nod. Physical contact was not done on Caedellium between men and women, at least on their first meeting, and only later when by mutual assent.

  “Welcome to Seaborn, Sen Kolsko-Keelan. Reezo tells me you are a scholar and are interested in visiting the Brudermyn Cathedral and meeting with other scholars while you are here. I’m told they are quite anxious to talk with you and have identified writings Reezo believes you will be most interested in.”

  Maera gave another polite slow nod. “Thank you, Hetman Seaborn. I look forward to it. As both my husband and I look forward to learning more about Seaborn. It’s been a negligence we have talked about remedying for quite some time. Reezo has also described some of the natural wonders of Seaborn. We’re anxious to visit them once you and the Paramount are finished with formal affairs.”