Forged in Fire (Destiny's Crucible Book 4)

by Olan Thorensen

  The cousin relaxed. “I know, Roblyn, I know. It just eats at me.”

  “As it does all of us. But now the question is, what do we do next?”

  At those words, most of the men perked up. Their hetman had said the words as if there were options.

  “I believe we are coming quickly to a point of no return, where our actions cannot be undone and will determine the fate of our people.”

  Langor took the irreversible step. “I have received a message given to Karvan Sewell at the Stent border. It consists of only three words. ‘It is time.’”

  He paused while the men absorbed the words and ran through the options of what they meant.

  “I believe the message means clan action is imminent. What they plan is unknown, but I think it means a time will come, very shortly, when we have to make a quick decision to either accept our fate with the Narthani or take a risk and act against them. This will likely be our only opportunity to rejoin the clans and save a future for Selfcell as a distinctive people.

  “We have to be honest with ourselves. No matter how reluctantly we cooperated with the Narthani these last years, we did do it. You all know we have done as little harm to other clans, particularly Stent, as we could, but still, we did do harm. Both in property destroyed and lives taken. I can tell you that Hetman Stent is not the forgiving type. Yet he is willing to do so, but only if Selfcell pays a price. I believe, as your hetman, with fervent prayers to a Merciful God, and with a belief that we are at a point of final opportunity, that the time has come to pay that price.

  “Another important consideration is, what if the Narthani are eventually defeated, what future does Selfcell have if the other clans turn on us? It has happened before in Caedellium history. I’m not worried about my own safety, but only God knows what terrible vengeance the other clans might exact on our people?”

  “Roblyn,” said the hetman’s other brother, “I have to assume you want to cast our fate with the other clans and against the Narthani.”

  The room was silent. In the yellow candlelight, all of the men could see Langor nod. Each man delved into his own feelings, evaluating consequences and the depth of his own commitment to what might come.

  Finally, Langor spoke again. “I’ve asked Harlyn Bolton to give us an update on Narthani soldiers in Selfcell and the numbers of our own fighting men. Harlyn.”

  A grizzled man with bulging shoulders and visible scars cleared his throat. “For several years, there have been two thousand Narthani soldiers in Selfcell. A thousand in Sellmor and another thousand at Wynmor in north-central Selfcell. I’ve had men keeping an eye on their movements and numbers. The Narthani seem to have been slowly reducing the number the last few months. I don’t know if they think we’re too dense to notice, but the Wynmor garrison is down to not more than five hundred men, and the one in Sellmor is eight hundred. The Narthani have tried to hide the reduction by shuffling men back and forth to patrols and small stations near the borders, but even they must realize we either know what’s happening now or soon will.

  “As for our own numbers, we have about thirty-five hundred men who we would consider our main fighters and another thousand we could call on, if necessary. The Narthani have ordered us to carry out extensive patrols along our border with Stent—that accounts for five hundred of our men stationed in the north. We have always been told to keep five hundred men mustered near Sellmor for whatever purpose the Narthani may require, but we’ve secretly increased that number gradually over the last few months to eight hundred. Another thousand men are within a day from Sellmor.”

  Bolton nodded to his hetman to signal the end of his summary.

  “So,” said Langor, “here’s how I see things. I believe the Narthani expect more soldiers, probably many more, from the size of the encampment being laid out and the number of horses gathered. I also think the clans know this and are about to do something. Exactly what, I don’t know. It could be to attack Selfcell and Eywell to eliminate us as allies of the Narthani, or it could be to try to destroy the Narthani base at Preddi City before more arrive.”

  Langor looked around in the dim light at the shadowed faces.

  “Let us not misunderstand. If the Narthani prevail, the results for Selfcell will be catastrophic. The only thing we have to decide is whether we want to condemn ourselves to a slow death at the whims of the Narthani or take the risk of being killed immediately. You all know what happened to Preddi. There is our choice, as I see it.”

  Langor had already spoken to the senior boyerman, a well-respected older man, who took his cue.

  “Better to die standing now than my children and grandchildren to slowly die groveling at the Narthani feet, even if years away!”

  The other men echoed the declaration, and Langor wondered whether he had just saved his clan or doomed it.

  CHAPTER 26: TO THE SEA

  Hanslow, Eywell Province

  Colonel Jomzik Jurna handed his horse’s reins to a soldier outside the Narthani’s Hanslow headquarters. His residence lay a few minutes’ walk away. After he assumed command of Eywell Province, he’d moved closer to his new office, and even then, he wanted his mount ready at hand—just in case. What contingency he felt he needed to be ready for, he couldn’t articulate. The same sense of preparedness permeated the Narthani’s Hanslow garrison ever since Jurna filled Erdelin’s place. Jurna would soon find out the reason for his concern.

  He entered the building’s main door, held open by a guard. The door hadn’t finished closing when he heard hoofbeats and a yell. He whirled to see a rider pull up his horse twenty feet away, jump off without securing his mount to a post, and run toward the stairs. Two guards blocked his way with crossed muskets.

  “Colonel Jurna!” shouted the rider, looking over the musket barrels. “Urgent message from the forward semaphore station!”

  “Let him through,” ordered Jurna. His gut tightened with a premonition, at the same time that his mind noted he still felt unfamiliar with his recent raise in rank from major.

  Seconds later, he cursed aloud, rushed into the outer orderly room, and began shouting. Startled men received hurried commands to alert senior officers in the city to get to the headquarters NOW! Other men went to horses to give the same order to commanders of units or facilities near Hanslow. The orderly room had almost emptied before Jurna’s second in command could hear the uproar and race downstairs from the second floor.

  “Colonel! What’s happened?”

  “Remember that contingency we prepared for but didn’t know if we were wasting time or not? Well—we weren’t. The hidden semaphore station reports clan movement hard into Eywell. Lots of clansmen—many thousands, plus scores of cannon and wagons.”

  Jurna briefly congratulated himself on having a semaphore line extended toward Parthmal near the Moreland border. The town had been burned by the earlier clan raid, but Jurna had predicted that in the event of a serious invasion and not just a raid, the clans would use the same route and an early warning could be critical. A hundred-foot rock outcropping concealed the most forward semaphore station in otherwise flat farm country. The station was not visible from three sides, with the fourth side in sight of the next station five miles toward Hanslow. The news meant the Eywell capital was in danger of being isolated or captured. Even if Hanslow were not the clans’ main objective, they wouldn’t want Jurna’s men to be a threat to the clans’ rear as they bypassed the city.

  “I’ve sent the alert to prepare to withdraw toward Preddi,” said Jurna to the major. “Get the headquarters’ staff ready to leave. If confirmation messages come from the forward station or those closer, we need to be ready to be on the move instantly.”

  An hour and twenty minutes later, Jurna sat on his horse outside Hanslow’s southwest main wall and watched the last Narthani soldiers leave the city, some of them still looking for their units’ position. Jurna hoped they were the last. Any Narthani left in the city would have to catch up with them. The forward semaphore station had
sent a second message confirming a large clan force, then fell silent. A junior officer stationed at the next station messaged an estimate of eight thousand or more islanders moving fast and that he was abandoning the station.

  “All right,” said Jurna to his staff, who surrounded him on their own horses, “let flags and trumpets signal to move out as fast as the wagons can go. Stragglers of any kind will be left behind.”

  He had no intention that his command would be isolated from the main Narthani base in Preddi Province. General Akuyun had given him no specific instructions but left it to his discretion to judge when his position in northern Eywell became untenable. He had told his subordinates to plan for every single Narthani soldier and noncombatant to evacuate. However, he would be satisfied if ninety percent managed to muster before they left. He had no accurate count, but his eye told him at least 650 of his seven hundred men still stationed in Hanslow were assembled, along with fifty to seventy noncombatants. Any Eywellese wanting to follow will have to keep up.

  No one was to have brought any baggage. Jurna’s personal possessions at this moment consisted of the clothes he wore. This would be a dash over the forty-nine miles to the Preddi border and, if necessary to reach safety, the forty-seven miles farther to Preddi City and the main Narthani-fortified position.

  Preddi City

  General Okan Akuyun’s office door burst open without a knock. That alone would have either angered the commander of all Narthani forces on and around Caedellium for its lack of decorum or elicited gut-tightening over what might be going wrong this time. The two options settled immediately on the latter when he saw the intruder: Brigadier Aivacs Zulfa, waving a sheet of paper.

  “Just came in as I passed the semaphore station! It’s from Jurna in Hanslow. A large clan force crossed into Eywell and is moving fast with cannon and wagons. He’s ordered a withdrawal and is headed this way as fast as they can move. He’s also ordered the Eywell garrison in Morthmin to do the same and not wait for him.”

  “Let’s see the message,” said Akuyun with as much aplomb as he could project. He read quickly, reached behind him, and pulled several cords that summoned men from elsewhere in the building. When he looked back to his troop commander, he couldn’t hide the grim set to his face.

  “Jurna estimates eight thousand or more. Those numbers, along with the cannon and wagons, means it’s not a quick raid like last time. The clans have something serious in mind. I assume Jurna will have rear guards and scouts keeping track of the islanders. We’ll know more when they get to Hanslow. If they bypass it, that’ll mean they’re headed our way.”

  Akuyun rose and walked to the large Caedellium map on the wall. Zulfa joined him, as did Akuyun’s top aide, Major Perem Saljurk, and several other officers. Akuyun hadn’t noticed before, but Colonel Ketin, the commander of Narthani troops within Preddi Province and the mission’s chief engineer, had arrived.

  As soon as a soldier with pen, ink, and paper rushed into the office, Akuyun barked out a message.

  “This is to go to Metan in Sellmor.”

  To Colonel Memas Metan

  From General Okan Akuyun

  Alert. Large clan force moving into Eywell.

  Jurna retreating. Advise you secure Sellmor.

  More to follow.

  He’d no sooner finished dictating than Ketin asked, “Is Nuthrat in Sellmor? He was inspecting the northern garrison in Wynmor.”

  “Narth damn it!” exclaimed Akuyun. He’d forgotten. “Perem! When is he due back in Sellmor?”

  “I have to check the schedules to be sure, but I believe he planned to arrive back in Sellmor this evening,” Saljurk answered. “If he keeps to that schedule, he should be somewhere on the road between Wynmor and Sellmor, likely well short of halfway at the moment.”

  Akuyun cursed again, abandoning his attempt at unflappability. He turned to the soldier-scribe. “Add to the message to send riders to meet Colonel Metan. Whoever is in current command at Sellmor is to be on alert for evacuation. Off with you, now.”

  The scribe ran from the room.

  “This will not sit well with either the Eywellese or the Selfcellese,” said Zulfa. “I know it’s necessary, but they’ll look at it as being abandoned.”

  “There’s no helping it with the Eywellese,” said Ketin. “Their population is centered too much farther north than Selfcell. I’m afraid we’ll have to consider the Eywellese lost. Even if this clan invasion later withdraws, the Eywellese will never forget we abandoned them, and we could never count on their cooperation again. Hopefully, the Selfcellese won’t notice what will so far only be a heightened alert. It’s still possible for us to stand down and pretend we hadn’t prepared to withdraw our forces back to Preddi.”

  “What about here in Preddi?” asked Ketin.

  “Again,” said Akuyun, “we’ll know more within a few hours. If the clans are hot on Jurna’s tail, we’ll have to order all our people into defenses.”

  Hanslow

  “It’s confirmed,” Stent told the gathering of his regiment commanders. A light rain had fallen the previous night, suppressing dust from a dragoon regiment moving smartly down the main road and heading south-southwest a hundred yards from where the men stood under a tree. “The Narthani fled south. We figured surprise was lost when our forward scouts came across the first semaphore station. The materials were new enough that the Narthani obviously built it after our raid.”

  “Well, that simplifies our worry about leaving the Narthani in our rear,” said the Swavebroke regiment commander. “What about the Eywellese? Did their fighting men head south as well?”

  “Unknown as yet,” Stent replied. “All we know is the city gates are closed, and armed men appear to be on the walls. We’ll know more shortly. A man flying the truce flag came out and gave our men the message that an Eywell boyerman wants to talk. I sent a message back that I’ll meet him outside of musket and cannon range, not far from here. For now, keep your men moving. The regiments assigned to keep an eye on Hanslow are to assume that’s still their assignment, so move to your preplanned positions.”

  Two Eywellese men, watched carefully by ten armed dragoons, waited for Stent. He dismounted, gave his reins to a nephew serving as an aide, and walked up to the two men. The younger one holding the truce flag was clearly scared, while the older man appeared calm.

  “You claim to be an Eywell boyerman?”

  “I’m Verlan Kollar, boyerman of Hanslow and the surrounding villages.”

  “Why isn’t Hetman Eywell here instead of you? I’m Hetman Stent and should deal with your hetman.”

  “I agree, but to do that, you’ll have to ride swiftly toward Preddi,” said Kollar, bitterness all but dripping from his words. “The Narthani didn’t even bother to tell him what was happening—just pulled out within an hour. Our noble hetman, his relatives, and a dozen or more families scrambled to follow. I imagine they won’t be the only ones to flee once word spreads that the Narthani have abandoned Eywell.”

  “Why didn’t you run, too?” snarled Stent.

  “I’m the boyerman of the people in this city. It’s my duty to do what I can to help them any way I can for what is to come. I’m not naïve enough to think the other clans will forgive what Eywell has done.”

  Stent grunted. As much as he felt like drawing a pistol and shooting any Eywell leader, he had to respect the old man for his sense of honor to his people.

  “May I ask what kind of help you think you give your clan of traitors to Caedellium?” asked Stent, his voice hinting at his own preferences for Eywell’s future.

  “None of the common people had any voice in Eywell allying with the Narthani. Even leaders like myself who opposed Brandor Eywell’s decision were overruled and forced to deal with the circumstances we found ourselves in. If I’d refused to cooperate, the hetman would simply have replaced me with someone more compliant. It may be a stain on my honor, but I choose to do what I can for my people. I would ask you to show the people of Hanslow a
degree of mercy. If I don’t believe that’s possible, the city will fight, and even with overwhelming numbers, it would cost you dearly to take the city with its walls.”

  “And if we choose to take the city, what about yourself? Do you think I’d let you return to lead the fight?”

  “Whether I return or not is irrelevant. Those I left in command were told my life was forfeited when I came to this meeting.”

  Stent looked deeply at the white-haired man. He’s serious, Stent thought. Much as I despise the entire clan, I have to grant him the respect due his courage and loyalty to his people. And I have to admit he’s right that the common people didn’t make the original decision, even if some of them became enthusiastic supporters when they thought the tide was in their favor. Hundreds, maybe a few thousand, of the Eywellese have already fled across the borders to get away from the Narthani. There have to be many thousands more who couldn’t flee or hadn’t worked up the courage.

  “Here are my three conditions,” said Stent. “They are not negotiable. First, you will open the city gates, and all armed men will come outside and lay down their weapons. I don’t doubt you’ll try to pretend some men left in the city are not fighting men, but the numbers had better satisfy us that most such men have left the city.

  “Second, other people will bring out all other weapons. The city is to be disarmed.

  “Third, our men will enter the city and carry out a search. Any armed resistance will be dealt with harshly. Any building found to contain a firearm will be destroyed and the residents converted to slave status to eventually be sold off Caedellium.

  “In return, if those conditions are met, the city and its population will not be harmed.”

  Kollar’s expression conveyed relief, but the man had understandable doubts. “If I surrender the city, how do I know you’ll keep your word?”

  “That’s a risk you’ll have to take. Not that you have any choice.”