Everything Maera learned went into written reports for her father and a copy she kept.
Chapter 8: Disappointments
Conclave Hall, Outside of Orosz City
The square stone building sat atop a hill a mile outside the old walls of Orosz City. The only use of the structure was to house meetings of the clan leaders, once a year for the mandatory All-Clan Conclave, and whenever a hetman called for another meeting. In the latter case, attendance wasn’t required. The building’s single room sufficed to hold twenty-one hetmen and two or three aides each. That the Conclave Hall was not within the city proper signified that the Orosz Clan had no special stature. The meetings had to be held somewhere. Orosz Province was central enough, and the clan’s history neutral enough in past conflicts for the hall to serve as a compromise location, when two centuries earlier the clans had agreed to the site. Hetman Orosz served as the host to start the meetings and, when necessary, attempted to cool ardor if discussions became too heated among individual clans or factions. In return, Hetman Orosz never took sides in disagreements.
The meeting called by Hetman Keelan had just ended, with the Narthani threat to Caedellium the only topic, as it had been in other meetings during the last years, since the Narthani crushed the Preddi Clan and forced alliances with the Selfcell and Eywell clans.
Culich Keelan’s prediction that not all clan hetmen would attend came true: of the eighteen clans not under Narthani control, twelve clans sent representatives, including nine hetmen. Six hetmen gathered in a semi-circle around Orosz. The other clan representatives had already left the room.
“Don’t be too discouraged, Keelan. The tide is slowly turning to recognize the threat,” said Cadoc Gwillamer. The hetman of the Gwillamer Clan could have used Culich’s first name, their being leaders of allied clans and lifelong acquaintances, but the custom at conclaves was to address only clan names.
“But slowly is the problem,” rejoined Keelan. “I’ll admit the turnout was better than I feared it would be, but every instinct tells me time is running out to convince the others.”
“We have to work with what we have, not what we wished we had,” said Tomis Orosz. “You know as well as any of us, Keelan, that there are some hetmen who will only wake up when the Narthani are at their own doors.” While the Orosz hetman maintained neutrality during conclave sessions, he wasn’t required to be oblivious.
Without intent, the seven hetmen stood in positions reflecting their relations. The three members of the Tri-Clan Alliance, Keelan, Mittack, and Gwillamer, stood beside one another. Facing them and separated by Orosz were Stent, Hewell, and Adris. The last two were in the process of joining the Alliance, so their presence was expected. Stent was of a like mind concerning the Narthani, but the Stent Province was on the opposite side of the island and bordered Selfcell, one of the Narthani client clans.
“Maybe it’s because I feel so isolated,” said Welman Stent, “but I’m buoyed by Bultecki and Farkesh coming around. While I know nothing is certain, I think both will join in response to a serious Narthani move against other clans.”
“Bultecki, certainly,” said Orosz. “However, Farkesh is north and would have to cross the lands of clans not yet committed, so it’s difficult to see them sending aid.”
“Yes,” said Keelan. “Still, that they support a united resistance is encouraging, especially Farkesh. Maybe they can influence Skouks and Vandinke.”
Those three clans, along with Bultecki and Nyvaks, were descendants from the first wave of colonists to Caedellium from the mainland continents five centuries ago. Although their exact origin remained unknown, two centuries later a second wave of colonists arrived from the Landolin continent. The original peoples on Caedellium were slowly pushed northward, and cultural and attitude differences were still evident in clans with descent from either of the two colonization waves. In contrast, the clanspeople of Swavebroke were a mixture from both waves.
“If that happens,” continued Keelan, “then Swavebroke would have to join, leaving Pewitt no choice, because they could be surrounded by committed clans. As for the three eastern clans, I think Bevans would join, as would Pawell, if they could be assured that Nyvaks was no danger.”
“That would be the most we could hope for.” Orosz looked around at the other six. “Seaborne might want to help, but being on their islands off the western coast and with the waters controlled by the Narthani, it’s hard to see them contributing. As for Nyvaks, who knows what they would do, and who would trust them?” Nyvaks Province connected to the rest of Caedellium by only a narrow isthmus, and its solidarity to the other clans was just as tenuous.
The hetmen stayed within their own thoughts about Nyvaks, until Keelan summarized, “So, we think Moreland will likely be the next target, with eight, possibly nine clans coming to Moreland’s aid.”
Stent turned his head and spat onto the floor. “As much as it galls me to try to save Moreland, we have to do it, no matter what any of us think of that ass, Gynfor Moreland. If his clan falls, the Narthani will be in position to move in any of several directions and could cut the island in two.”
Sour expressions supported Stent’s fear.
“Then let’s return home and do what we can to get ready,” said Keelan.
“And pray,” said Orosz. “Pray that we’ve been too pessimistic and pray that the rest of the clans come to their senses soon.”
“And hope we don’t have to pray for a miracle from God,” ended Hewell.
Keelan Manor, Caernford, Keelan Province
Culich Keelan’s rear ached from the 180-mile carriage ride from Orosz City to Caernford. He had pushed his drivers and escort, and they made it back in two long days, stopping overnight at a Hewell village. As always, his wife, Breda, waited on the manor’s front veranda. He had updated her on his progress via semaphore before leaving Orosz City and at several semaphore stations en route. When she saw the carriage, she rose and walked down the steps.
The carriage hadn’t completely stopped in front of the manor when Culich stepped out. In his rush to get off, he forgot and landed first on his bad leg. The knee buckled, and Breda steadied him before he tumbled.
“Damn! Too much in a hurry to get off my sore ass. Good thing you were here. Wouldn’t do for people to see their hetman falling on his face.”
Breda let go of his arm and hugged him. “Oh, they’d not worry, except to know you were all right. I suppose coming inside and sitting is not likely?”
“Let me stand for a few minutes, and then I’ll sit, but only on the softest cushion we have. Even with the new seats you had made, after that many miles they still felt like stone. I even rode a horse for a while, but that only lasted a few miles until my knee made me stop. What I’d really like right now is a beer.”
“Then come on in, and I’ll send Alindra to the deep cellar.”
They entered the manor and walked arm in arm to the main parlor. She called and a young woman appeared, listened to Breda, and scurried away. Culich leaned against the back of one chair, while his wife sat opposite him.
“So, don’t leave me in suspense. How did the conclave go?”
“Better than I’d feared and worse than I’d hoped. While none of the staunch isolationist clans wavered from that idiocy, there’s a firm commitment from eight clans to come to the aid of anyone attacked. Most of us believe it’ll be Moreland, so naturally Gynfor Moreland didn’t commit to helping any other clan. He even boasted that Moreland could take care of itself and didn’t need help from any other clan. I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he acted even stupider than usual.”
Breda thumped the chair arms with her fists. “God’s mercy! What about his boyermen? Surely, some of them must feel differently. A hetman can always be replaced.”
“In theory, yes, but lack of common sense seems to be endemic to too many of the Morelanders. Rumors are that half of the boyermen would move against him, though not enough to prevent fighting among factions, which would be disas
trous. It would give the Narthani the perfect opportunity to take Moreland during the turmoil. No. We’re stuck with Gynfor Moreland. I find myself wishing he’d suffer some fatal accident or illness and depart this world, God forgive me, though even that might not help. His eldest son, Heilrond, is just as bad.
“Now it’s back to Keelan business. Our boyermen meeting is next sixday. I’ll need to get the summary of the last meeting from Mae . . .” Culich’s voice trailed off, as he remembered Maera was at St. Sidryn’s.
“Yes, dear, she’s still there, although it’s about time for her to return.” Breda became pensive. “Now that I think of it, she hasn’t said in her last letters when she planned on coming home. She only sent her usual sixday report of her observations, plus letters to me and her sisters, nothing about her plans.”
“I’ll write her. Now that I’m back, I can use her help, especially with the boyermen meeting coming up. She’s been there long enough. I doubt there’s much left to hold her there. I’m sure she’s eager to come home.”
Preddi City, Narthani Headquarters
Sadek Hizer drummed the fingers of his left hand on the wooden table, his lips thinned and eyes glaring, although not at Akuyun, sitting opposite him in the general’s office.
“I’d thought we had a good chance to keep the clans from uniting, but the reports on the hetmen meeting confirm at least six of the clans have committed to a common defense. Neither of our agents could give details; however, it’s evident Keelan pulled three to four other clans along.”
“We expected that, didn’t we, Sadek?” Akuyun asked.
“Yes, though not the surprises. The Orosz hetman came out in favor of the commitment, something we were led to believe wouldn’t happen. The Caedelli custom has been for Orosz to stay neutral in any discussion. He’s broken that custom and sided with Keelan and Stent on a collective defense.
“What’s just as disturbing is that Farkesh hinted he was leaning to joining. We’d thought the northern clans would be the least likely to cooperate, there being historical animosity between them and the southern clans. While we already suspected Bultecki would break from the others, if Farkesh does, too, it’s only a matter of time before the other northern clans join. That would only leave the outliers, Pewitt, Nyvaks, and Pawell,” Sadek said in a disgusted grating tone. “Not a satisfying outcome for the time and effort we put into trying to divert the clans from uniting.”
“Now, Sadek, it’s not like we were counting on our efforts to keep them apart. It was always a secondary strategy.”
Akuyun was right but was also pleased that Hizer took personally their failure to subvert clan cooperation. It was a sign of Hizer’s commitment to the mission. Akuyun believed himself fortunate to have an assessor of exceptional ability and one willing to be incorporated into the mission’s areas of responsibility, even if informally.
Although the news disappointed Akuyun, he wasn’t discouraged. “No, Sadek, we might wish the Caedelli make it as easy as possible for us, but it just means we’re back to the basic plan. We will ratchet up our pressure on their coasts and the neighboring clans and then launch a drive into their heartland with our troops. If the clans hadn’t agreed to come to one another’s aid, we’d simply have crushed Moreland and then moved on to Orosz. By cutting the island in half, the time when they could have presented a united front would have been over. Now, when we invade Moreland and other clans rush to help, it gives us the opportunity to bring all of this to closure faster. If we can entice them into an open field battle, their defeat will weaken multiple clans at the same time. As a result, those clans and others not participating will be more likely to come to terms. Either way, we succeed. It’s just a matter of the details and timing.”
Hizer sighed, then his eyes narrowed as he took in the mission’s commander. “No, Okan, you’re right. I know I’m flagellating myself unnecessarily, though I also wonder about our roles. I’m supposed to be the one giving you encouragement when necessary, yet why do I feel it’s the other way around? Makes me wonder sometimes if I’m doing the assignment I’m here for.”
“Nonsense. Both of our tasks are to bring Caedellium into the empire. That we work well together is a bonus for us both and is only good for the mission. Let’s put the consequences of your agent’s report aside. One advantage is that now we don’t have the distraction of multiple avenues forward. We’ll continue preparing our men and, at the right moment, move to crush whatever force the Caedelli can assemble.”
Akuyun Family Villa, Preddi City
Okan Akuyun arrived at his family’s villa, expecting a relaxing evening. He was disappointed. His wife, Rabia, met him at the door, her mouth set and arms crossed tightly in front of her.
There was no preamble. “You need to speak to Ozem,” she said. “He’s become too full of himself. Too arrogant. Too stupid is all I can call it.”
“I assume there are particulars you’re referring to. What exactly has he done?”
Their eleven-year-old son was bright and energetic. Sometimes Okan thought him too bright for his own good, without having learned proper respect and discipline. His twin sister, Lufta, was also intelligent but lacked the drive of her brother. They had accompanied their parents to Caedellium, while their two older brothers stayed in Narthon as junior army officers and had their own growing families.
“It’s gotten worse the last month. He is disrespectful to the guards, lords over Lufta, and is constantly denigrating the servants and the slaves. Today I heard him tell Lieutenant Jurnor to fetch him his coat. His coat! As if the officer of our guard was a servant or a slave. I’m also sure he’s been on the verge of disobeying me several times and barely restrained himself. I doubt that restraint will last much longer.”
Rabia unclenched her arms and took Okan’s hand. “I’m sorry, dear, but I didn’t mention any of this earlier. I thought it a phase he was going through and I could deal with it. Now I’m worried it’s more serious.”
Okan put an arm around her and squeezed. “Not to worry, dearest. I’ll speak to him.”
He found his son lounging in his room. Rabia had sent him there to await his father.
“Stand up!”
Ozem jumped to his feet, face flushing, eyes morphing from insolence to fear.
“You may be an Akuyun, but don’t forget you’re still a child and have not earned the right to behave in any way of your own choosing, even if it’s to act stupid.”
“Father, I—”
“Shut up! I’ll let you know when you can talk.”
Ozem’s mouth snapped shut, and he stiffened to attention.
“You put Lieutenant Jurnor in a bad situation to no purpose. His duty is maintaining security of the villa and reporting to your mother when I’m not here. To order him to fetch your coat is the act of a spoiled child not worthy of the Akuyun family or your two brothers, who never behaved in such a manner. Jurnor’s an officer in the Narthon army and due respect. You have no authority over him, and you have done nothing to earn respect. If you have such delusions, get them out of your mind. I’ll be confirming to the lieutenant that he’s under no obligation to listen to anything you say. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Father, I’m sorry I—”
“Did I say you could speak? As for the correct treatment of servants and slaves, while they’re bound to our family and must obey, it’s stupid to treat them badly unnecessarily. Think of how you treat your horse. You brush it and give it treats but are stern in its training. In return, it gives unquestioned obedience. Disciplining people is often necessary, though is never done for trivial reasons unrelated to their duties. Your mother tells me you struck a maid because she forgot to mend your favorite riding pants, and she wasn’t even the one you told to do it. While we expect them to obey, in return they need to know they’ll be treated fairly within the bounds of their station. To punish unnecessarily corrupts the bond between master and underlings, be they subordinates, common people, servants, or slaves.”
O
kan paused. Although he wasn’t as mad as he tried to sound, the boy needed a strong lesson. He didn’t think there was a major problem, but if there was, he needed to nip it quickly.
“I don’t want to hear any excuses. I thought you’ve been taught better. If not, it’s my fault. I expect better from you in the future. I’m very disappointed.”
Ozem’s face fell.
Good, thought Okan. He wants my approval. I think Rabia’s right, he’s going through a phase.
He expected this short session would show results. If not, stronger measures could always be taken.
Chapter 9: Life
A New Life
Yozef was talking with Filtin about trying to make napalm, when a message arrived from a farm north of Abersford. Bronwyn had given birth. A boy. Both mother and baby were in good health. He read the message several times, while Filtin waited, then became curious.
“Bad news, Yozef?”
“No. Good news. Bronwyn gave birth, and everyone’s fine.” Filtin knew of Yozef’s past connection with the farm woman and that a child had resulted.
“You don’t look like it’s good news.”
“No, really, it is good news. It’s just that having a son—and a son nearby whom I won’t raise myself—only now seems real.”
Yozef hadn’t seen Bronwyn during the last two months, not since the Godsday when he sat in a back pew and saw Bronwyn, her sister, her husband, and three children walk down the right aisle and find a space in the middle of the cathedral. She was obviously pregnant and the family group looked . . . domestic? Yozef felt a pang, exactly why he wasn’t sure. Not continuing with Bronwyn? He didn’t think so. The child? Not being a daily part of its life felt wrong, although, looking at her family, he couldn’t argue there was any other option. Maybe it was just the “family.” He had made friends, but there was still a disconnected feeling.
The Pen and the Sword (Destiny's Crucible Book 2) Page 8