He found the hetman amid a cluster of men around the same table with maps spread out on top. The group opened enough for him to reach the hetman’s side.
“How is Maera?”
“Still sleeping. The medicants are more confident that she’ll recover. Hetman . . . I’ll say again how sorry I am about Reezo. He was a son and a Seaborner to be proud of.”
Yozef barely succeeded in following Santee’s advice. He didn’t speak of a debt owed.
Yulan only nodded and turned back to the map, but Yozef thought he could read pain in the father’s eyes.
“We’re still gathering information, but we think there were about three to four hundred Kolinkans who came ashore from fifteen to twenty ships. The Nollagen village chief got a rider through to us only a few minutes ago. We don’t have a total body count yet, but it looks like they left at least a hundred dead. They may have taken some of their dead with them, but I doubt it. Only a few of our people around Nollagen were killed. Most of our dead are from the men who accompanied you.”
Yozef inwardly cringed, but Yulan continued without implication.
An unintelligible stream of words in a raspy voice came from Yozef’s right. He turned and recognized a Fuomi naval uniform. The markings on the man’s tunic placed him as an officer, but Yozef couldn’t identify the rank. A Caedelli man said something to the officer that Yozef recognized was in the Narthani language. There was a quick back-and-forth between the two men before the Caedelli man turned to Yozef.
“Paramount, my name is Arkor. I was an Eywellese before fleeing the province two years after the Narthani took over effective control. I’m one of the men who’s been sailing with Fuomi ships while they’re in Caedellium waters. That’s in case translation is needed while the ship is at sea, and Narthani is the language known by most Fuomi captains. I’ll be translating for him.”
Damn language problems, thought Yozef. Caedelli, Fuomi, Narthani, and now the Landoliners’ and Iraquiniks’ languages. People of Caedellium never had a great need to learn anything else, and now we’ve gotta have people who speak them all. We need some common language. It sure the hell isn’t going to be Narthani. Maybe Suvalu. I’m already learning it. Thankfully, Mark was right that it’s relatively easy.
“Go ahead and translate, Ser Arkor.”
“The Fuomi says he’s Captain Harlo Minkonin, commander of the Fuomon frigate Waaro, if I’m pronouncing it correctly.”
Arkor spoke again to the Fuomi captain before returning to Yozef.
“I think Waaro means ‘danger.’”
“Ask Captain Minkonin if he’s sure the Kolinkan ships have left?”
“He says yes. Originally, the sloop you came in planned to pick you up, but evidently Admiral Mermi wanted the sloop to return to patrol and not take you around the island. The Waaro had finished some repairs, and Mermi decided that coming to Grastor for your trip to Adris City would provide your transportation and let Captain Minkonin check the frigate’s condition. The Waaro first stopped at Brudermyn but was preparing to move to Grastor. When word came by semaphore of what was happening, the Waaro and the sloop that brought you to Seaborn set sail immediately. They saw the Iraquiniks’ ships in the distance going north in the Seaborn Straight. Minkonin sent the sloop to follow the Iraquiniks, while he continued on toward Grastor. He had a company of Seaborn dragoons on a ship and didn’t know whether the men and the Waaro’s guns might’ve been needed.”
Yozef turned back to Hetman Seaborn. “Have you found any living Kolinkans?”
The burly hetman grunted and nodded. “A group of about fifty of them were sent to block the road to Grastor that goes by Stiltern Fall. Evidently, word didn’t reach them in time for them to get to Nollagen, and they got stranded when the Kolinkan ships left. Our men cornered them on a beach not far from Nollagen. After a fight, fifteen of them surrendered and were taken prisoner, including the leader. A few more were killed by my men before someone remembered your lessons about the importance of getting information from prisoners.
“Besides confirming they are Kolinkans, the leader claims the attack had been planned for many months, and that while he didn’t know details, there were rumors of Narthani involvement.”
Yozef was surprised. “You got that information awfully quick. I’d have thought it would’ve taken longer.”
The hetman’s grin was merciless. “It didn’t take long to convince the man that the threat to skin him alive was real. We only took a few inches of skin from his belly before he begged to let him tell us everything he knew.”
Normally, Yozef would have shivered at the image . . . but not today.
“Were any Caedelli taken prisoner who are presumed to be on some of the Kolinkan ships?”
“No,” answered Yulan. “They weren’t bothering with prisoners. Anyone they came across they either killed or ignored.”
Yozef turned to Arkor. “Ask Captain Minkonin if he knows the size and arms of the Kolinkan ships, and could his frigate catch them?”
Another rapid back-and-forth in Narthani ensued before Arkor faced Yozef again.
“From what he saw in the distance, and from reports of people who saw the ships up closer, he believes there’s no question they could overtake them if he knew their destination. If any of the men who came ashore were crew and were among the dead and wounded, they would be shorthanded sailing back to Kolinka. The Waaro should also be faster than any Kolinkan ship he’s seen. He says they are mainly coastal vessels and wouldn’t be surprised if they lose a few ships getting home. The wind has remained strong after the storm passed. Of course, there’s always the chance he misses them. The ocean is wide, he says. He also doesn’t think they have any more than ten or twelve 16-pounder cannon per ship.”
Yozef considered. That means none of the Kolinka ships would be a serious challenge to a Fuomi frigate with its 30-pounder broadsides, reinforced hulls, and the seamanship of its crew.
“Tell Captain Minkonin that I would like him to catch the Kolinkan ships before they escape, and ask would he be willing to do that?”
“The captain says attacking ships of the Iraquinik Confederation is not part of his orders. However, he has also been told to cooperate as much as possible with the Caedelli Paramount Hetman. He believes he can justify your request based on helping defend an ally against an attacking force—no matter its origin.”
The Fuomi captain said something to Arkor.
“He now asks what you would want him to do if he does catch up with the Kolinkan ships.” Arkor half snarled. “I think he already knows the answer.”
Yozef hadn’t noticed, but all other conversations in the large room had ceased. The men and the women listened in a packed ring that had grown in depth since his arrival.
“Sink every ship he can catch.”
“I’m sure he’s also going to ask what should he do with prisoners?”
“Hetman Seaborn, how many of the Kolinkan prisoners that you have are being cooperative?”
“All of them. We’ve had no problem after their leader started talking.”
“Then, with your cooperation, I’d like to have the prisoners sent to Orosz City for more questioning. As for any survivors of a sea battle, I see no reason to bring them to Seaborn.”
“Let them die at sea and save us the trouble of killing them here,” said Yulan.
“Arkor, tell Captain Minkonin that if it’s possible, the Paramount says to take prisoners from one ship. Preferably one that might seem more important if you can make that determination. The other ships . . . take no prisoners. Without warning, the Kolinkans attacked a people with whom they were not at war. Any Kolinkans captured and brought back would be executed. Therefore, there is no reason to take prisoners from more than one ship.”
The Fuomi captain showed no emotion on hearing Yozef’s words. He only nodded and turned to leave, presumably heading for the harbor and the Waaro.
“One more thing,” Yozef called out.
Minkonin did not understa
nd the words, but he paused and waited.
Yozef didn’t immediately tell why he had stopped the Fuomi captain. Seconds passed. A minute. Three minutes. Everyone in the room had quieted. Only the captain was puzzled as to why all talking had ceased and everyone stood in place. A few people looked at each other, but most starred at the Paramount, many wondering what God was whispering to Yozef. Others were simply patient.
A cauldron of words lay in his chest. Dark words. Firery words. Words of darkness that a part of Yozef’s mind shied away from. But only a part. A black shroud clothed a man the Joseph Colsco of Earth would have judged harshly. The same state had happened once before. After the Narthani attack on Keelan Manor. After the desperate fight to save himself and those he cared for and loved. After seeing the bullet hole in Aeneas’s nightshirt. After seeing Maera’s sister, Anid, dead with a hole in her forehead. After seeing a large part of Ceinwyn’s face nearly sheared off.
He had sent men to exact vengeance on the Narthani, targeting the highest-ranking officer possible. Later, when it was too late to recall the men he sent probably to their deaths, Yozef couldn’t clearly remember what his thinking had been, only that the memory of those hours were more murky shadows rather then true recollections. It was only now, years later, that he remembered wishing he had had the ability to send thousands to kill Narthani. Any Narthani.
Did my mind repress that urge? Yozef now thought. Aren’t our minds capable of repressing memories that might otherwise be painful or alarming?
Whatever he had felt before, he felt now—with no buffer to hide that part of Yozef Kolsco.
He returned to the awareness that the Fuomi captain waited to learn why he had been stopped. Everyone else shifted slowly and quietly in place. A sense of unease permeated the room.
He struggled to set aside his dark thoughts and seek refuge in reasoning. It was as if two minds skirmished for ascendance. More minutes passed. Finally, with no resolution of the internal conflict, there was a decision and a change in worldview he would have to live with.
Yozef turned to Arkor. “Ask the captain if he or any of his men can speak and write in Narthani.”
“He says that he can with some difficulty, but one of his officers is fluent.”
“Tell the captain I would like him to take the surrender of one of the Kolinkan ships and give them a message written in Narthani. It is to be impressed on the Kolinkan crew that the message needs to be delivered to the highest authority in Kolinka. The message is this. ‘Yozef Kolsko is coming for you. Your clan will disappear. Your people will be scattered to the corners of Anyar. The soil of Kolinka will be sewn with salt so that nothing grows. The name Kolinka will disappear from the history of Anyar.’”
Arkor stared for a moment, then said, “Well, that should get their attention,” and translated to Minkonin, who smiled and left.
Hetman Seaborn gave a curt nod of approval, as did several other men. In contrast, Carnigan was expressionless, but later when they were alone, he asked, “Did you really mean what you said, Yozef? About the Kolinka people, clan, whatever they call themselves?”
“I meant some of it. How much, I don’t know right now. I am going to do something about Kolinka. It will be a message that no other Iraquinik kahsak or anyone else can misunderstand.”
“You know, Yozef,” said Carnigan in as soft a voice as he was capable of, “some of the men on those boats you just ordered to be sunk without taking prisoners were there because they had no choice.”
“You’re wrong, Carnigan. They had a choice. It was just hard, and they made the easy decision.” He sighed and looked at his friend. “Do you think I’m wrong?”
“I admit it makes me uneasy, but was it a wrong decision? I don’t know. You’ve made many right decisions in the years I’ve known you—more than the bad ones, so I usually trust you have good reasons. I just don’t want you to later have regrets.”
“So do I, Carnigan, so do I. But for now, I need to get back to Maera. She should be walking soon. I have to be there when she wakes, and I have to tell her about the baby.”
When he walked into her room, he expected to find her still asleep, and he was prepared to wait for however long it took. Instead, she was awake and staring out the window. She heard his footsteps and turned her face toward him. Dried tear tracks laced down both cheeks. Her eyes had been dry until she saw him.
“Oh, Yozef! The baby!” she cried out, and tears flowed again.
He rushed to her, sat on the bed, and leaned down to hold her while she sobbed. She cried for almost five minutes. It was the most prolonged spell he had ever seen from her. The sobs subsided with two loud gulps as her body jerked in unison. He wanted to say something in consolation, but what could he say? There was no solace except time.
He knew of one way to distract her, at least for the moment.
“According to reports coming in to Yulan, the attackers have left Seaborn. I’m told they didn’t try to loot or take captives. They bypassed most people as if they were of no consequence.”
“Who were they?” asked Maera, grasping at Yozef’s diversion.
“Iraquiniks from the Kolinka kahsak. Hetman Seaborn says reports suggest three to four hundred of them.”
“Iraquiniks?” she exclaimed. “That’s who we suspected. Why would they attack Caedellium?”
“Best not to think of Iraquiniks. The kahsaks jointly fight the Narthani, but I guess they’ve had trouble among themselves long before the Narthani forced them to look outward. Even Eina doesn’t know that much about them, and we’ve gotten to expect she knows everything about everyone . . . except Caedellium before she got here.
“I’ve pretty much ignored them, but that has to change. With the additional ambassadors showing up in the last few months, we now have representatives in Preddi City of seven kahsaks, if I remember. They’ve been pestering Balwis and me when I’m available to help them against the Narthani.”
“But still . . . that makes it even more puzzling. Even if it was you they were after, why?”
“It’s not certain, but one of the prisoners they left behind supposedly thinks the Narthani are somehow involved.”
“Narthani.” The single word came as if coated with something vile. Her face, previously white with grief, turned red, her jaw clenched, and she hissed through spaces between her teeth.
“That scum can’t just leave us alone in peace?”
“The few prisoners we have will continue to be questioned, but I must have been the target. The primary objective had to be capturing me and taking me back to Kolinka, or, if that failed, killing me. The obvious conclusion is either that it was fomented by the Narthani, or Kolinka wanted me as a token in negotiations with Narthon.”
Maera frowned, momentarily exchanging furrows of sorrow for those of confusion. “Yes, but something doesn’t make sense. How would Kolinka have known you were going to be in Seaborn Province and exactly where you would be on what day?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” said Yozef, pleased that Maera’s attention was diverted. “It has to mean someone or some people gave them the information. We already know the Narthani left agents we’re still trying to identify. This had to have been planned for a long time. First, someone had to be positioned to know my travel plans. Then, more information had to come from inside Seaborn Province to confirm my exact location. In that case, the Kolinka ships must’ve been lurking nearby and somehow got word from someone in Seaborn.”
He paused before continuing. “That would also support the theory that Kolinka and Narthon planned this together.”
Maera shook her head. “That’s too complicated. Too many ways the plan would fall apart.”
Yozef shrugged. “I agree, but I can’t think of a more likely possibility. For one thing, we don’t know if this was the only time something like this was planned. Maybe earlier attempts were called off, and this just happened to be the one time everything fell into place for them.”
“I’m not convinc
ed, but if you’re right, we have to discover how Kolinka and Narthon get such detailed information about our internal operations. Who is passing it on? This is even worse than Esyl Harvant.”
Maera’s animation faded as memories of her sister’s death resurfaced. The Narthani agent had infiltrated Keelan Province and secured a position at the Caernford semaphore station. From there, he had access to enough information for the Narthani to plan the assassination of Hetman Keelan, Maera’s father, and Yozef. The attempt failed, but Maera’s sister, Anid, was killed. Now, Yozef worried the memory would prompt questions he had dreaded answering until Maera was better. His worry was justified.
“How are the people who were with us? I’ve seen Carnigan and Synton walking past the door and peeking inside, but they ignored me. What about all the others? And what happened after I was shot? I only remember starting to hand you a loaded rifle.”
“We were attacked from behind. Somehow, a few Kolinkans got ahead of us. They managed to coordinate, and while the ones following us launched an attack, the others surprised us from the rear. One of them shot you with a pistol. We’ll never know whether they were deliberately firing at you or if it was me, and they missed. Their leader may have decided I wasn’t going to be captured, and they defaulted to killing me.”
Yozef hesitated, considering his next words.
“I’m sorry, Maera, but we were in a desperate situation. Synton, Reezo, and I agreed they were going to overrun us at any time. Plus, ammunition was running low. The dragoons from both Seaborn and Pewitt stayed to hold off the Kolinkans long enough for the rest of us to escape. Only one man survived and only because they thought he was dead.”
He hesitated again.
“Reezo stayed. He said honor demanded a son of the hetman could not leave his men.”
Maera was silent. He had expected shock, sorrow, anger, probably all three, but not an expressionless silence. He waited. After two minutes, she turned her head toward the window. Three more minutes passed before she turned back to him, her face cold.
A Dubious Peace Page 57