Cast Under an Alien Sun (Destiny's Crucible)

by Olan Thorensen

  “What an unfortunate coincidence the Buldorians ran for home on the first mission Major Nertof served as liaison,” Kalcan commented, with a raised eyebrow and tweak to his lips.

  “Yes, a tragedy. I’ll write a report extolling the major and his contributions to the mission. He’ll be remembered as having fallen in service to the Empire.”

  “Naturally, we’ll want to exact revenge against the Buldorians,” Kalcan said cryptically.

  “Naturally. And you’re already looking for their ships. Unfortunately, the ocean is wide, and our mission here takes priority. We’ll give assurances we’re on the lookout for these particular Buldorians.”

  Kalcan smiled and nodded. Without words, the communication was clear: they were well rid of Nertof and his two junior officers and would think no more about them.

  That point settled, Akuyun sat at his desk and motioned for Kalcan to seat himself. “Now, I assume the navy is ready to take the Buldorians’ place in future raids and to support our direct ground operations?”

  Keelan Manor, Caernford

  Boyerman Vorwich had used the Clengoth/Caernford semaphore line to relay raid updates to Hetman Keelan as fast as details were known. Even the fastest semaphore station crews could only transmit the equivalent of six complete pages of text a day. As a consequence, for two days, the limited capacity of the semaphore line was preempted from more routine communications, including news of friends and relatives. The commandeering of the semaphore lines from Caernford to the rest of Caedellium lasted an entire sixday with messages among the clan hetmen.

  “The reports from St. Sidryn’s are thorough, but I want firsthand accounts,” Culich said to Kennrick and Vortig. “Let’s get Abbot Beynom and Vegga here as soon as possible.” Thus, three days later Denes Vegga and Sistian Beynom, accompanied by Boyerman Vorwich, answered the summons to Caernford and spent an entire day with their hetman, along with Kennrick and Luwis, going over the events in excruciating detail. Denes then returned to Abersford, while Sistian remained for more discussions, one topic of which was Yozef Kolsko.

  “The new knowledge he’s given us is already amazing, but he’ll often say something without realizing the impact. For example, when we first talked about the lack of poppy extract, I explained that poppies only grew under conditions found in Eastern Landolin. He stated there was no reason they couldn’t be grown anywhere by making the right conditions inside an enclosed area. He called it a ‘greenhouse,’ a small building with windows all around the sides and roof so the sunlight can get in. The light passes through glass to allow plants to grow. It also warms the inside of the structure. The warmth can escape out through the glass in the other direction, but as he describes it, the energy of the sun passing in is more than the warmth that passes out. By adjusting various factors, it should be possible to grow the plants to produce opiates here on Caedellium, if we obtained plants or seeds.”

  “Do you believe these greenhouses would work as he claims?” asked Culich.

  “It’s one of those things that just sounds right when you hear Yozef’s explanation. Combined with the success of some of his other ideas, I’m inclined to think it would work.”

  “Then there’s the problem of getting plants or seeds from Landolin,” said Culich. “They impose the death penalty on anyone trying to smuggle out any plants or seeds.”

  The abbot nodded. “There is that. However, I’m sure a hetman of your influence, ingenuity, and wealth could find ways around such annoyances.”

  “Hah!” barked Culich. “Flattery will get you nowhere. I’m shocked, absolutely shocked that an abbot of your stature could conceive of such nefarious deeds.”

  The two gray-bearded men shared a laugh. They had grown up together as boys in Caernford. Although the abbot had moved to different positions over the years, they remained friends, exchanged regular letters, and met whenever the opportunity lent itself.

  “Pardon my saying so, Sistian, but this stranger of yours sounds too good to be true. If this keeps up, there are going to be fears he’s either a demon familiar or belief he’s an archangel sent from God to deliver Caedellium.”

  The abbot sat back in his chair and sighed. “Don’t think I haven’t thought long and hard about those very points, Culich. I must admit to being leery of all of this at first. The Word warns us the Evil One can tempt in ways that seduce us into believing our actions are meant for good.” He paused. “However, I’ve observed Yozef for almost two years now, and several other brothers and sisters have discussed him with me. We all agree we detect no evil in the man. Not that I’m sure he’s told us the entire story of how he got to Caedellium. As for being an archangel, I think I can rule that out. He’s quite human.”

  “Well, then,” said Culich, “if he’s not a demon familiar or some agent of the Evil One, and he’s not an archangel, what is he? A spy or an agent of the Narthani or some other power outside of Caedellium?”

  “I don’t see how the knowledge he’s already passed to us would help any agency with designs toward Caedellium. I think his basic story is true, that he’s from a distant land that has knowledge that has not reached Caedellium. That he was a student still involved in his studies. That he was taken from his land against his will, perhaps in a manner he doesn’t fully understand. That he had a long bout of both loneliness and some despair when he arrived here, since he believes he’ll never see his home again, and that he harbors no animosity toward us. In fact, I believe he feels an obligation to us for the help we gave him. I also believe he’s accepted whatever fate brought him to Caedellium and has become a real member of the Abersford community. Having said all that, I also believe he knows more about how he got here than he’s told us.”

  “How should we view this reticence to reveal all?”

  “With a degree of caution, but still make use of what he knows. While I can’t be certain what he doesn’t tell us could be harmful, my sense is that what he’s not telling us is more personal, perhaps something about himself he doesn’t want to share. If so, it likely doesn’t pose a threat.”

  Culich was thoughtful. “Knowing you as long as I have, I expect you have some recommendations for me.”

  Sistian smiled. “Of course, my Hetman.”

  “And those are . . . ?”

  “I recommend you meet him yourself. I’ve given you my impressions, but yours would be from a different perspective. You’ve dealt with different ranges of human interactions than I have, at least from the political standpoint. I’m interested in your assessment of him. That’s one recommendation. Second is that while these pieces of knowledge he drops on us are giving us extraordinary advances in medicine, trades, and agriculture, I also wonder whether it might apply to other areas, perhaps even military.”

  Culich’s eyebrows arched. “Military? You mean like the mainland realms that keep large numbers of men permanently armed and fight large-scale battles?”

  “Yes. Like the Narthani. We haven’t done this on Caedellium, thank Merciful God, but we know from writings and reports that it’s common elsewhere on Anyar. It’s only logical to believe there are formal studies on managing such fighting.”

  “Do you believe this Yozef Kolsko has military training and experience?”

  “He’s given no such indication, and I once steered a conversation in that direction. I asked if he had been in any battles, and he said he had not and hadn’t been part of his people’s military. That confirmed his people had a military and indirectly suggests they were involved in these large battles. When I asked why he hadn’t served, he said they had a professional military drawn from their citizens, and most people don’t serve or receive training.”

  “Then I wouldn’t see how he might have useful military information, except that the idea for defending St. Sidryn’s came from him.”

  “Yes,” said Sistian, “there’s that. He’s told us how his people’s education is long and broad, so maybe his military knowledge is only from study.”

  “Well, I trust you
r instincts, Sistian. Arrange for this Kolsko to visit Caernford, and I’ll meet with him.”

  Sistian hesitated. Forgive me, God, for the little lie I’m about to speak. Any Keelander would heed Culich’s “request” without hesitation, but Yozef was not from Keelan, and Sistian wasn’t sure he’d come just because the Keelan hetman asked him to. He didn’t want Culich’s first interaction with Yozef to start off wrong.

  “Actually, I wondered that since it’s coming the time for your yearly tour around the province, if you could manage to stop over a night or two at Abersford. I’m not sure Yozef is ready to leave where he is as yet, and I’d rather not force him to change his routine. I know the attack shocked him, perhaps in ways I’m not sure about, so it might be best if he stays where he is for now.”

  “Then it’ll have to wait for a month or more. I’m postponing my inspection of the province. There’s a conclave called at Orosz City to discuss the Narthani threat.” Culich paused for a moment, stroking his beard in a manner the abbot knew indicated he had a new thought and was running it through his mind before sharing it. After a few more moments, Culich said, “Although I can’t go immediately, what about sending Maera? She’s wanted to visit St. Sidryn’s for some time, because it’s been several years since she’s been there. I’ve put her off because I value her help so much, but she can’t accompany me to the conclave, and this would be a good time for her to spend a month at the abbey.”

  A smile warmed Sistian’s face. “We’re always happy to have a visit from Maera. Diera especially will be pleased. However, I still believe you will need to assess Yozef personally.”

  “Of course, but Maera will have more time than I could spend, so her examination of this Kolsko character might be in more depth. I’ll speak to Maera, and I’m sure there’ll be no problem.”

  Sistian nodded with a thoughtful expression.

  Culich recognized the look. “Something else about this Kolsko?”

  “Something I wasn’t planning to mention at the time, to allow you to see for yourself. Since it’ll be a while until you meet Yozef, I’m now thinking I should mention it to you, and you can decide whether to pass it on to Maera.”

  Sistian rose from his chair, walked to the window, and looked out over the manor grounds. Culich was patient, knowing Sistian was gathering his thoughts.

  After several minutes, the abbot turned back to Culich. “It’s not just pieces of knowledge, like the ether. I’m hearing from farmers he’s given them ideas on increasing yields and warding off plant diseases, and tradesmen on new products and techniques, even more than the innovations you know about. Then there are the medical issues. Yozef knows little of how to treat patients and seems ignorant of basic facts. Yet the medicants tell me he’s answered questions about the human body that have always puzzled them. Also, he seems to have knowledge that even when they are convinced it’s true, they can’t understand how the knowledge was developed, nor can Yozef explain it. I’ve heard it said several times it’s almost as if someone is whispering knowledge into his ear.”

  “Someone?” asked Culich, sensing where this was going.

  The abbot smiled. “Yes, the someone being . . . God? I’m afraid I inadvertently contributed to the rumors when I spoke at our service of thanksgiving at St. Sidryn’s.”

  “And this would make him . . . what?”

  “I think you know the answer. A Septarsh. One who is directly inspired by God. The Word describes the Septarshi as men in touch with God like no others. Sometimes God whispers in their ear, sometimes in their dreams, or sometimes they simply know something without knowing how.”

  “Not an Avatar?” said the skeptical Culich.

  “No. I’m not even beginning to think of Yozef as an Avatar, a descent of God into human form. That’s too close to blasphemy.”

  “So, what do you think?”

  Sistian shook his head. “This is not something I would commit to. Not yet.”

  Culich’s eyebrows rose. Sistian’s response meant he was leaving the question open, a major sign of the seriousness with which he took the issue. “So you think it’s possible?”

  “Possible? Yes. Nothing in The Word of God or The Commentaries says all of the Septarshi have already lived. There are eleven recognized. The last Septarsh was over a hundred years ago. Each has differed from the others, but all are associated with major changes, sometimes with holy writings, sometimes with conflicts, and sometimes with gifts of knowledge. But all were acknowledged as Septarshi, either during their lives or after their deaths, and all were considered as God’s response to prayers for help or directing the people onto correct paths.”

  “It sounds like Yozef fits the qualification of gifts of knowledge. What about writings and military?”

  “I don’t see Yozef as creating new Holy Scriptures. I believe him to be a good man but firmly rooted in the world and not interested in theological issues. Military? As I said, I don’t know. He doesn’t fit what I’d expect out of a military leader, and I get the sense his view of how conflicts are pursued is very different from ours, if for no other reason than Caedellium has had no history of wars, as the mainlands have had. I again advise your drawing him out on this topic to see whether there’s anything to help with the Narthani.”

  “And, of course,” prompted Culich, “the Narthani would qualify as the threat that God is sending Yozef as an answer to prayers?”

  “That would be the more common folks’ interpretation.”

  Culich was dubious. “I must say, this bothers me. Men regularly claim to commune with God, usually because they’re either mad or charlatans.”

  “Yes, but usually is the main word. Septarshi may be rare, but the Word and The Commentaries acknowledge their existence.”

  “You and I have spoken about the possibility that Rhaedri Brison in Orosz Province might be eventually acknowledged as a Septarsh, because of his commentaries on the Word. As infrequent as they seem to be, isn’t having two alive at the same time hard to believe?”

  Sistian smiled. “Not being privy to God’s plans, I’d hesitate to offer any opinion on the matter. Brison has been working on new commentaries to the Word for thirty years at the monastery of St. Wyan outside of Orosz City. Any elevation of Brison would be based on his writings. There’s no reason to think God couldn’t arrange a Septarsh with other talents.”

  Culich chuckled. “Meaning I shouldn’t give advice to God?”

  “You’ll do what you think best,” Sistian said with a pious twinkle.

  “What does Kolsko think of all this?”

  “I don’t believe he’s aware of it. I’ve neither seen nor heard indication of such.”

  “What do you think his response will be once he does become aware?”

  “I suspect he’ll be appalled. Truth be told, I’m not sure he believes in the existence of God.”

  “Then how can he be a Septarsh?”

  “Nothing in the Word says a Septarsh must be a believer. He only has to be in communion with God, whether he knows it or not. We commonly think of the Septarshi as archangels, carrying out commands they hear directly from God, but all a Septarsh has to do is carry out God’s will, irrespective of how he gets the direction.”

  “Well,” said Culich, “I’ll be skeptical. Then again, I suppose so will you. Keep an eye on him, and we’ll see what Maera reports back. When I get back from Orosz City, and there’s time, we can think again about arranging for me to see for myself.”

  Veil of the Future

  Two sixdays later, Culich Keelan sat alone in his study amid papers strewn across his desk. Semaphore messages from other provinces reported incursions and small raids into their territories bordering the Narthani client provinces, Selfcell and Eywell. Suspected sightings of Eywellese occurred in Northern Keelan. Raids erupted along the coasts throughout Caedellium, now by the Narthani themselves. There were details on the attack on Abersford and St. Sidryn’s, along with Maera’s transcription of his notes from a hetmen conclave in Oro
sz City, chronicling his discouragement at failing to convince more of the other hetmen of the seriousness of the Narthani threat.

  His right shoulder blade had a knife of pain in it, he knew from tension. He avoided looking himself in the eye when before a mirror these days, too afraid to see the fear he hid even from Breda. When he was alone like this, it was the worst. It was then that he closed out externals and looked deeply into how he saw the play of the future. Every instinct he had said the Narthani meant to enslave the entire island, and he discerned no path to stop them. Even if it might not happen in his lifetime, this didn’t provide solace. The weight of his ancestors and the entire Keelan Clan was crushing.

  ***

  Okan Akuyun’s mood contrasted with Hetman Keelan’s. Akuyun was . . . cheerful. He engaged in friendly conversations with both immediate subordinates and common troops. Rabia and the children all teased him on his relaxed manner at home, and he found himself noting minor things like a sunrise, the passing of seasons on this beautiful island, and the pleasure of reviewing the progress of the newest Narthani civilian colonists. He even found time to read Landolin poetry, something he would never confess to any other Narthani, besides Rabia.

  Everything was going according to plan. All of the assigned troops were in place. Granted, they had been of poor quality when they arrived, but continuous training had them rounding into shape for what was necessary to accomplish the Caedellium mission. The attempts to confuse the Caedelli and prevent them from uniting was ongoing and impossible to evaluate with any certainty, but the Buldorian and Narthani raids, the secret contacts with several clans, and the placement of agents throughout the island had all proceeded as planned.

  Now it was time to ratchet up the pressure on the Caedelli before launching the final phase. It was only a matter of time before they integrated the island into the Narthon Empire. Akuyun was not a cruel man. He would prefer that all of the Caedelli lived to serve Narthon, but serve they would, even if by no longer existing.