A Dubious Peace

by Olan Thorensen

  “Send two more southwest along the coast until there’s no possible site for landing from ships. In both cases, the men are to push their horses, but not so much they can’t return to Nollagen with word of either spotting something or seeing nothing. Also, in both cases, have one man ride ahead of the other by . . . I don’t know . . . maybe a couple hundred yards, depending on the terrain, but keeping him in sight. If the first man runs into trouble, the second is not to go help but get to Nollagen with word.”

  “You seriously think these men are enemies?” asked Maera. “Who? Narthani?”

  Yozef gave a dismissive wave. “Who knows? We’ll worry about that later.”

  “But why would they be here?” asked a bewildered Thala.

  “The Paramount,” Synton answered in a grim tone.

  “But how would they know the Paramount is here on this day?” complained Reezo.

  “It would have to be spies,” said Maera. “After the Narthani defeat, we thought we’d rooted out most of them, but we recently found more are likely still undetected.”

  Yozef nodded. “That would mean they would have to be placed in a position or positions with access to my schedule. In this case, it could be in Orosz City, Pewitt, or here in Seaborn. Maybe more than one spy. Hell . . . maybe in all three places.”

  “There would have to be one here in Seaborn,” said Maera. “If the objective is the Paramount, they would have to be able to adjust because they couldn’t be exactly sure of schedule changes.”

  “Here in Seaborn?” exclaimed Reezo. “How is that possible? I can’t believe any of our clanspeople would betray the Paramount.”

  Zalzar shook his head. “There are always disgruntled people. Not everyone in Seaborn approves of the union. I’m more skeptical of how such a plot could be organized. There would have to be communication between a spy on Seaborn and whoever these riders are.”

  “We’ll argue later,” said Yozef. “Now it’s time to act.” He turned again to Oston. “Get your men going.”

  The Seaborn dragoon leader ran forward in the caravan, yelling orders.

  “Rynlyn, return to your family. Tell them to keep coming hard toward Nollagen, but if they can hide without being seen from the road, do that and wait at least the rest of today.”

  Yozef grabbed Reezo’s arm. “I want you to send someone hard to Nollagen. Tell Feldman what we know. This may well be a lot of excitement about nothing, but alert them. We’ll be along as fast as the wagon and the carriage can manage. Also, tell Feldman to send riders east along the coast road at least ten miles and report back to Nollagen if they find people who shouldn’t be there. Warn them to be careful.”

  When the hetman’s son hesitated, Yozef took on the “Paramount” voice he’d been cultivating.

  “Go! Now!”

  “You’re worried about being cut off on both roads from Nollagen?” asked Zalzar.

  “It’s best to consider a worst case,” said Yozef. “I’ve unfortunately come to believe anything else is foolish.”

  Several people started talking at once. Yozef held up both arms.

  “Enough. We need to follow Reezo’s man. Now!”

  Everyone dispersed for the run to Nollagen. Yozef had one last command to Synton.

  “We’ll leave the wagon. It’ll only slow us down. Get the weapons we brought and leave the baggage and supplies. If all this is for nothing, we’ll send people back for the wagon.”

  After helping Maera into the carriage, Yozef spoke to the driver.

  “We’ll be holding on, so don’t worry about the jolts. Get us to Nollagen as fast as you can without crashing the carriage.”

  He had briefly considered having the three carriage occupants ride double with dragoons but decided against it. Maera was three months’ pregnant, and he didn’t know the effect of a hard ride with a possibility of being thrown from the horse.

  Shouts followed up and down the caravan. The occupants heard the driver yell at the horses and crack his whip, followed by a lurch as the horses leaped forward. Yozef held onto the window frame with one hand and used the other arm to catch Maera. She’d been caught unready and almost pitched forward.

  “What do you really think, Yozef?”

  “I think we’ll have way too much alcohol tonight and laugh at the flurry of worries to no purpose.”

  “But you’re not sure.”

  “Sure? I’ve come to believe it’s hard to be sure on this world . . . er . . . anywhere on Anyar.”

  All three carriage occupants leaned to the left as the road curved right. Yozef wasn’t sure, but it seemed as if the ride had actually smoothed out. Maybe by speeding up, the wheels didn’t have time to maintain contact with the bottoms of ruts and potholes. Nevertheless, smoother wasn’t smooth, and combined with the swerving side to side, the three carriage occupants constantly braced themselves with one or both arms.

  The seven miles to Nollagen took forever, or so it seemed to Yozef. Yet he knew the heightened tension made it seem so. He tried looking out the window to the rear several times but gave up. The carriage motion, the galloping Pewitt dragoons, and the caravan’s dust obstructed his view too much. He would’ve liked to stop at the crest of a low hill, but it would only have cost time and jangled nerves. He had to trust that the Pewitt men were looking over their shoulders.

  Zalzer believed Nollagen had a population of about 300. If another 200 Seaborners planned to come for the Paramount’s visit, that meant upward of 500 men and women and children in or coming to the village.

  As Nollagen first came into view, Yozef’s mind whirled. He felt he needed to be doing something, but what? Many times since coming to Anyar, the danger was right in front of him. Other times the danger was anticipated and planned for. Now . . . was there a danger? If yes, what was it, and how serious? How to react with no information? In its own way, this was among the most disconcerting feelings in his life.

  Houses flashed by the carriage windows. People ran, yelled, or stood still seeing the caravan. Suddenly, the driver yelled something, and the carriage lurched to a stop. Visible from the right-side windows was a building, and from the left side, a village square. The carriage door jerked open.

  “It looks like chaos here,” said Carnigan. “Whatever’s happening needs some order.”

  Yozef jumped out to the ground. He swiveled his head back and forth twice, as if hoping Carnigan’s description wouldn’t be confirmed the second time. It was.

  He felt a hand against his back. It was Maera reminding him he’d blocked her from exiting. “Sorry,” he said, giving her a hand down. Zalzar followed on his own.

  “It’s not really chaotic,” she said, “it just looks that way.”

  Yozef took a harder look. Colored banners hung from buildings surrounding the square. In the center sat a wooden platform with more banners hanging from the sides.

  Preparations to welcome the Paramount, he thought. Here’s hoping we can still do whatever they planned.

  “Paramount!” came a shout rising above the other noises. Village chief Feldman sprinted to them, weaving his way around villagers heading in all directions.

  “What’s happening, Paramount?! The man you sent only said there were many unknown riders. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but the implication was danger of some kind. What danger? From who? Why?”

  “Calm, Urk,” said Zalzar. “Nothing is known for certain, yet. The Paramount ordered men to search west and southwest. You were also supposed to send people east a few miles. Did you do that?”

  “Yes, yes, but I couldn’t tell them exactly what they were looking for, just to come back quickly to Nollagen if they found something unexpected.”

  “You did the right thing, Urk. Now I guess we simply have to wait for information,” said Zalzar, looking expectantly at Yozef.

  “That’s right. It may turn out to be nothing, but it’s best to make some preparations just in case. I see people running around, but what are they doing?”

  Feldman wiped h
is sweating face with his sleeve and took several deep breaths.

  “After the Buldorian raid years ago, we vowed to never again be taken by surprise. For the first year after the raid, we practiced what to do if it happened again. Of course, we expected that if it did, it would come from the sea as before. We had lookouts at the harbor and on a hill west of the village. If an alert came, everyone had someplace to go and things to do. At first, we practiced having alerts, but as time wore on, we stopped doing it. It’s taken time to convince people this was for real, but people are starting to form barricades, and men are getting their weapons from home because they don’t usually carry muskets during the day.”

  “How many people are in Nollagen right now?” asked Yozef.

  “Only about two hundred fifty. We used to have over three hundred, but some were killed or taken captive during the raid when most of the buildings were burned. A few others moved away from Nollagen and still more rebuilt some distance from the village, thinking that was safer. We were expecting you later this afternoon, Paramount, so another two hundred people from farms and a few ranches had planned on gathering later for your arrival.”

  That’s both good and bad, thought Yozef. A least, there will be fewer women and children in danger, but it also means fewer men to fight off any attack if that’s what we’re facing.

  Feldman licked his lips as he glanced around. “If there is an attack, Paramount, surely we can beat them off. We’ll have around forty or more armed men and women, plus the dragoons and your guards.”

  “Father, Father, Father!” shouted a female voice. A teenage girl ran toward them, weaving around and pushing against people in her way. “Ships! Many ships out at sea!” When she reached Feldman, she bent at the waist, hands on her knees, and gulped air.

  “Meena, are you sure? It wasn’t just white caps on waves you saw? Some of our fishing boats are not back yet to be in time to see the Paramount.”

  The girl shook her head violently, her hair flying out almost horizontally from the rapid motions. She tried speaking, but only hard wheezes came out. Feldman turned to Yozef.

  “My daughter, Meena. She was at the lookout east of the village.”

  He turned to his daughter, put one arm around her, and helped her stand erect.

  “You say ships? Many ships?”

  She gave an exaggerated nod, took two deep breaths, and tried speaking again. “Ships. With sails out. Maybe eight. Ten. Maybe more. I don’t know!”

  Feldman started shaking his daughter. Yozef put a hand on his shoulder and faced the girl.

  “Meena . . . the ships . . . were they headed toward Nollagen?”

  “Yes! No! Both!”

  “What?!” said Feldman, confused.

  “Meena,” said Yozef. “Do you mean some were coming here and some were going away?”

  “Here! There!” said Meena, pointing to the ground and then out to sea.

  Yozef stood back from the girl. “I think she means some ships were headed to Nollagen, and other ships were maybe not moving. Is that what you meant, Meena?”

  “Yes,” came clearer as the girl caught her breath. “Maybe eight or ten . . . I don’t know . . . near the shore east of Nollagen. Another ten or so maybe five miles at sea.”

  “Did they have full sails or partial?”

  She took several more deep breaths. “I think some had partial sails.”

  “Could you tell if they were different kinds of ships?” ask Yozef.

  Meena thought for a few seconds. “No . . . I think they looked all the same.”

  “That’s it, then,” said Maera. “The Fuomi don’t have fifteen to twenty ships of the same kind here. I don’t see any other likely explanation, except a raid. Yozef, how much danger are we in?”

  “Depends on how many there are and how serious they take their mission, whatever it is.”

  “What do you mean, whatever the mission is?” said Synton before turning and spitting to one side. “The most valuable thing in this part of Seaborn . . . damnation . . . maybe ALL of Seaborn is you, Yozef. They’re coming for YOU. Either to kill you or capture you. My coin would be on capture.”

  “But who would do this?” asked Zalzar, angry and puzzled at the same time. “Buldorians again? The Narthani?”

  “We’ll worry about who later,” said Yozef.

  “Damn right,” Synton said in a grating voice. “The shit we’re in gets deeper the more I hear. They must’ve sent those men to cut our retreat back to Grastor. Then they’re landing men to block what we are told is the only other road out of here. That can’t be all of them. I’ll bet there’s more . . . maybe the main body, coming here from the west from the same landing point as the ones blocking the Grastor road. We’re fucked.”

  “Succinct, but hopefully not correct,” said Yozef in a calmer voice than indicated by his internal turmoil.

  “Zalzar, you mentioned tracks leading over the mountains to . . . what was it called? The town on the West Coast.”

  “Yallvan? But I don’t know the way, and it’s bound to be rough over those peaks.”

  “Okay. How about straight north from here or northeast over the mountains where we might catch the road the rest of the way northwest to Grastor? There can’t be so many raiders that they would seriously attack Grastor . . . the population is too large.”

  I hope that’s true, Yozef thought.

  “I don’t know,” answered Zalzar. “I only know about the Yallvan tracks because it was mentioned to me one time.”

  “There are such tracks,” said Reezo. “Both directions, but the one Thala and I have been on goes from here north through the Milgorn Gorge. Once you get into the broken country, it’s slow going. In many places it has to be single file, but I don’t remember many spots where someone could get ahead of you.”

  The Seaborn dragoon officer suddenly appeared, pulling one of his men by an elbow. Thirty yards behind the two men, Yozef could see two other dragoons holding up a third man with a bloody left arm.

  “The two men I sent west. They spotted a force of riders heading this way. They didn’t get a good count, but at least a hundred. Maybe a lot more. Many were riding double. Our men were spotted by what must be scouts. They had a running battle with the scouts until they got away.”

  Maera blanched, and multiple men’s faces turned to Yozef. He cursed subvocally—not at the situation, but at the all-too-familiar expectation that Yozef Kolsko would have the solution. The second curse was audible to everyone within twenty feet and was directed at the universe.

  “All right,” he addressed the Seaborn dragoon. “Did they follow you?”

  “When we got near the village, I looked back. I could see horsemen on the last rise about a quarter-mile behind us. Six or eight of them. They were just standing there.”

  “I only see one option,” said Yozef. “It sounds like there are too many for us to stay in Nollagen and beat them off.”

  He turned to Feldman. “Have everyone in the village scatter into the countryside northeast and northwest of here. Our party will head north. Reezo and Thala will guide us through the track they say can take us directly to Grastor. Whoever these people are, they have to be after me, so they’ll chase us. I don’t believe they’ll waste time with your people. I expect they’ll come straight along the coast in both directions toward Nollagen and eventually follow us north. Your people need to go to where there’s the best chance they’ll be ignored.”

  “Oh, Yozef,” whispered Maera. “The people of Nollagen will be undefended.”

  He didn’t know whether the others had heard her, but he spoke loud enough for all to hear.

  “The people here in Nollagen are in more danger if they stay around us than if we can get the riders to follow us.

  “We’re already flying a few banners, but let’s give them more. Synton, you and the two dragoon officers, grab a dozen or so of the banners around town and fasten them to poles the men can hold high while we move. We want whoever is watching us to have n
o doubt that the Paramount’s party is no longer in the village. Once we’re sure they’re following us, we can throw away the banners.”

  Ten minutes later, the Paramount’s caravan, with flags and banners visible to anyone within a mile’s unobstructed view, left Nollagen heading due north.

  CHAPTER 36

  PURSUIT

  The carriage and wagon drivers opted to stay and disperse with the villagers. Yozef didn’t ask about their reasoning, but he suspected they had better chances away from him. Word had spread of the riders’ likely objective.

  Abandoning the carriage meant the Paramount’s party required three more horses—supplied by Feldman. The village chief offered to send guides for the track intended to be the escape route, but the Seaborn twins were positive they knew the way. Thus, when they left the village at a trot, they rode two abreast, Maera on a bay mare beside Yozef, riding a gray gelding. As before, the Seaborn dragoons led the way, the Pewitt dragoons to the rear.

  They were only a few hundred yards past the last village structure when the Pewitt officer caught up to Yozef.

  “No doubt they spotted us. Like the Seaborn man said, they were sitting on the hill, but three of them are now following us. I saw at least one man turn his horse and gallop west.”

  “If I were them,” said Yozef, “I’d have another man bypassing Nollagen to send word to however many of them are along the east road. I hope everyone is out of the village, though it would be best for us if the raiders use some of their men to search all the buildings to be sure I’m not hiding in Nollagen.”

  Synton appeared. “Okay, if we think they’ve seen us, how about picking up the pace? From what Reezo Seaborn says, we’ve got miles before we’re out of this open country. We need to reach the more difficult terrain he described. At least then we’d have some options if they catch up with us.”