“You all know me, I am Tai’kara shu’Naitha, from Waterside Block. Before hearing the doubtless interesting reports of the day’s military action, on behalf of my Block I must protest that a hundred Wrth raiders are camped in the City, barely four hundred hab’la from our Block. I want to know what our King is doing to remove this stink from our city and ensure the safety of citizens inside our own walls!” A murmur ran through the gathering, heads bending and more rumors exchanged. “These three shee’tho’vai standing behind me, and doubtless many others, have the same concern, Oh King.” So much for agenda control, thought Kirrah.
“These concerns are important,” said the King, in a voice that carried surprisingly well in the large chamber. “I am sure others will share them. This meeting is to deal with the Wrth threat, please yield the Mouth to Armsmaster Opeth and we will begin to answer your question.”
Armsmaster Opeth’s report was brief and to the point. Warmaster Kirrah’s ‘stone surprise’ had worked perfectly. Five hundred thirty-seven Wrth had charged through the gates. Of these, four hundred forty-eight lay dead on Falling Ash Road, including three killed when the gates closed on them. One died later in the care of the priests. Eighty-eight were now held securely in the military compound. It was estimated that another four hundred fifty to five hundred lay dead outside the walls, prey to the new longbow and bodkin-point arrows. Total loss to the raiders: between nine hundred eighty and one thousand thirty attackers. Total loss to the Talamae: ten longbowmen picked off the walls during the brief, fierce exchange of arrows, and two more hit on the roofs during the ambush. Four of these casualties had died, the others would recover.
It was the Talamae’s greatest military victory, the Wrth’s worst defeat, and the only known instance of Wrth ceasing fighting in battle, ever. The room erupted in cheering and table-pounding for a full minute before order could be restored. Well done, thought Kirrah, you never used the term prisoner or surrender once in that entire report. Major Doi’tam and I may both yet leave this meeting alive!
That individual was next to receive the Mouth. He reviewed the proud service tradition of the Royal Cavalry, thanked the guest Kirrah for her services to the Talamae, and declared that he would see to a disposition of the prisoners in a manner that was safe for the citizens of the city of Talameths’cha, with the King’s permission, and understanding the concerns of Waterside Block and others.
Issthe signaled and received the Mouth next. A hush fell over the room. In her clear voice she related the events she had seen in the practice-yard, with a few well-chosen words painting the picture of Major Doi’tam and his mounted, armed men about to attack Kirrah Warmaster and the unarmed Wrth. At her words, sullen looks and mutterings were exchanged among the council members.She requested the Council to formally confirm Kirrah’s status, and to set out clearly the shee’thomm between her, Armsmaster Opeth and Major Doi’tam.
The grizzled Armsmaster then stood to declare that the assembly should hear from Kirrah before asking her to accept any such shee’thomm, and that he would be happy to serve with her, in her service, or with her in his.
Uh-oh, speech time. She received the Mouth of Talam, an ornate and intricate piece of brass sculpture vaguely dumbell-shaped, with a comfortable handle but weighing at least four or five kilos.
“People and rulers of Talam,” she said, “I am a stranger and a guest to your Realm, but as you saw today, I know something of war. I expect my countrymen to arrive later this year, and when they arrive, this fighting will be ended. But I fear this city will not remain healthy that long. The Wrth scour the farms and stop travelers and merchants by land, the O’dai prey on your trade and shipping by sea. If this city hides behind its walls, it will slowly strangle.
“In many hundreds of years of warfare, my people have learned one thing is always true. If enemies come from another land and attack you on your land, the best place to fight for your land is on theirs. If you wish, I will help you do this. It will require the effort of every person in the city who can fight or work, and some will die. I believe if you do not make this effort, the city will perish.” Well, it’s only another hundred forty days, I suppose Akaray and I could hide out somewhere until then…
Guildmaster Delima shu’Maakael rose next, gathering her red-trimmed blue robe about her as she received the Mouth.
“What effort does Kirrah Warmaster ask of us? How much, how many, for how long?” That, I can answer, Kirrah thought.
“Guildmaster, there are still five thousand Wrth at the gates,” Kirrah replied. The city’s entire forces, even with the new weapons, are not half enough to defeat them in the field. Yet we must do more than defeat them, we must so destroy them that they are unable to raid the smallest village.
“While we do that, we must also defend the city from any other attack. The siege engines brought against our gates today were not made by the Wrth, but by others who wish us ill. They have other, more powerful, siege engines on ships. If they are clever, they would attack the city from the river, while our forces are away fighting the Wrth. We need defensive forces here as well. I can show you how to make weapons to defeat siege weapons on ships, as the longbow defeats the crossbow.
“But you asked a simple question, and it deserves a simple answer. To make this city safe, I need everything. All adult citizens, all your work, all my new Wrth students, everything I can put into the service of the Talamae. I need this until my people come, or until the borders of Talam are secure again.”
“This woman asks much,” Delima said into the hubbub of voices that greeted Kirrah’s words. “What does the experience of our Armsmaster and the wisdom of our King have to say?” At a wave from Lord Tsano, Opeth rose to speak:
“Kirrah is truly a Warmaster. Never have I seen such a cheap victory as she gave us today. She asks much, but she promises much. I believe we need everything she has. We are fortunate to have her weapons and her advice. I say, give her this shee’thomm, if she will accept it.”
Lord Tsano spoke next. “Talamae, you have all heard the reports of our villages being destroyed. Today I looked from the walls of the City, and I saw our destruction ride up to its gates. We must reclaim our Realm, or perish. If you do not give Warmaster’s shee’thomm to this woman now, by the time this mistake is seen, it will be too late. I call vote.”
“Vote,” said Issthe.
“Vote,” from Opeth.
“Well, Scribemaster,” said Delima turning to Taiwi at her left, “That seems clear enough. Shall we agree to the vote?” At his reluctant nod, they both added their voice to the call. I don’t like the look of this, thought Kirrah. There are too many dubious faces in that crowd.
Before the voting could begin, Tai’kara, the shee’tho’vai from Waterside Block, signaled for the floor.
“Before we vote on such an important question, I believe we should seek wisdom from the ito’lae’mara. We have this right.” Glances were exchanged at the raised tables, and at a nod from Issthe, Lord Tsano signaled to one of the assistant scribes, who produced a small cloth pouch and set it before the priestess. Issthe spoke:
“You have asked the runes to draw forth your wisdom. So shall it be done. I name the query: ‘Guidance to the Realm’. I choose the mode: Past, Present, Future, with Rune-of-Attention. Scribemaster Taiwi shu’Wdatha, draw for the Past.” She held open the pouch, and the Scribemaster came around in front of her desk, reached in, and pulled out a small wooden tablet, about two by four centimeters. The priest placed it into one of the four matching indentations in the hand-sized wood rectangle she held, third from the top. Kirrah could just make out a small arrow-shape on the wooden piece he had drawn.
“The rune is Journey,” Issthe said. “I now draw for the Present.” She reached into the bag, and came out with another tablet, this one bearing a circle on a triangular base. She placed it in the second slot from the top.
“The rune is Security,” she said. There was a stir among the people at that one.
“Kirrah
shu-Roehl, come and draw our rune of the Future.” More than a little puzzled, Kirrah came to the front of Issthe’s desk, and reached into the bag, which she now realized contained several dozen of the wood tablets. She drew one out. On its surface was an arrow-shape similar to the one the Scribemaster had drawn, with the addition of two lines crossing the shaft of the arrow. Issthe accepted the rune, placed it in the top slot. She said:
“The rune is Haste.” Many of the seated shee’tho’vai looked stunned, and a number of urgent whispered conversations erupted. What is going on? Kirrah wondered. Do they trust their future to a …a game of chance? Beside her, Issthe ceased her efforts, laid down the board, and became perfectly still. Like a ripple, a circle of stillness spread into the noisy room. Within seconds, the priest was again the silent focus of every eye. How does she do that! Kirrah wondered, not for the first time.
“Lord Tsano will draw our rune of Attention,” she said. The huge man got up from his desk and walked around in front of the priest. The rune he drew bore a small diamond shape, lying on its side, a rhombus, Kirrah recognized its geometry. A diagonal line crossed the center, joining the two farthest points. Issthe received the rune and placed it in the bottom slot on her board.
“The rune is Skilled, my people,” said the priest’s quiet, clear voice. Not a person stirred.
“Heed the wisdom drawn forth,” she continued, in what was clearly a familiar ritual. “This is my reading to the Council of Talam. To the query: ‘Guidance to the Realm’, you have found that the past is indeed moving, and will not remain as it has been. You have found security this day. You are counseled to make haste; today is not a place to stand, but a place from which to move, and soon. Move with skill, or choose someone to lead, who has the skill needed.
“It is done. Vote.”
At a nod from the King, one of the scribes broke the absolute silence that followed Issthe’s pronouncement. The voting itself consisted of each of the two hundred and two shee’tho’vai, the block-leaders, one at a time raising a white or a black wand when the session scribe called their name. His two assistants placed a glass bead on either the black or the white pan of a balance scales which sat on a stand in front of the King’s desk, according to the color of the wand. The Scribemaster kept a separate tally. The entire process took most of an hour, and at the end of it, by a vote of one hundred twelve to ninety, Kirrah was the confirmed Warmaster of the Talamae realm, with literal powers of life or death over every citizen; the right to requisition any property or service; and accountable only to the King for her actions. In the tradition of human generals everywhere, her first official act was to call a meeting.
One half hour later Kirrah, Irshe, Lord Tsano, Issthe, Armsmaster Opeth and Major Doi’tam were sitting in the King’s private office at the opposite corner of the same building. Kirrah alone stood.
“Doi’tam-fira'tachk. You are a problem for me, and therefore for the defense of Talam. You are one of the finest tools in the Realm, and I very much need your services. Your enthusiastic, intelligent, brave, loyal services. If you cannot give me that, speak now and you will be relieved of your shee’thomm, no dishonor. Before you answer,” she said, raising a hand as he drew in a breath, “…I tell you this. If you ever again draw weapon against me, or harm a bound enemy without my orders, or act to dishonor my word in any way, I will, Sir, burn you to ash where you stand. Before you tell me your answer, tell me that you believe I mean exactly what I say.”
“I, I…” the big Cavalry Major seemed to shrink before the blaze of her eyes. He looked from one to the other of his erstwhile friends. The others seemed embarrassed by the intensity of the confrontation.
“Fira'tachk!” The flat crack of Kirrah’s open hand on the tabletop made everyone jump. Except Issthe, Kirrah noticed out of the corner of her eye… how does she do that? “Look at me!” His eyes jerked another few seconds, then met hers. “Do you believe me?” Icy green eyes burned into his brown ones with almost physical intensity.
“Yes.” Pause… “Yes, Warmaster.”
“Then tell me this, Doi’tam-fira'tachk-of-Cavalry. What is your worst fear?” she demanded.
“Ah, ahhh…” a reflexive swallow, the man was sweating lightly. “To dishonor my station, my Cavalry. Warmaster. To fight dishonorably on the field.”
“Have no fear for that, Major. I do not fight honorably. I fight and I win. Your honor has no place in my service, only my own. Will that suffice?” Another reflexive swallow. But his eyes stayed with me, Kirrah noticed.
“Warmaster, I spoke in error. You are my worst fear.”
“That, Major, is the first wise word I have heard from you today. Now, would you please answer my first question.” A brief, thoughtful pause.
“I will serve my Warmaster, arm and eyes, on my life.” The Major gave his salute, this time directly to Kirrah.
“On my life and the life of Talameths’cha, you are my Fira'tachk-of-Cavalry. Now, let us discuss how we may best train and mobilize the citizens. We have a siege to break.” And when I get a moment or two, she added under her breath, I want a few words with Issthe, about …whatever that was, that happened back there, the… what did they call it? ‘Ito'lae'mara’.
Chapter 20 (Landing plus forty): Celebration
“Everything that can be invented, has been invented.” - Charles H. Duell, Commissioner, Office of Patents, 1899 A.D.; United States of America, Terra.
Kirrah spent that night at the training field with her Wrth ‘students’, sleeping in a tent under guard. The next day, the uninjured Wrth began receiving training with the practice versions of the pike and the Talamae infantry sword, which was about the same length, but heavier than their traditional curved blade. Kirrah insisted that her new converts should be treated as trustworthy until proven otherwise. At least with practice swords.
Peetha, over her own objections, was deemed unfit for active duty until she recovered from the blood loss she had suffered, but she seemed pleased to accompany Kirrah to the day’s series of meetings. Her wounds were healing cleanly and quickly, and the forehead injury turned out not to be the burn Kirrah feared might have been from her own sidearm, but an earlier, deliberate, branding by Peetha’s own people.
The first meeting was with Scribemaster Taiwi, Guildmaster Delima, Armsmaster Opeth and Lord Tsano, to plan how to mobilize Talam’s citizenry. After a bit of haggling, the group decided every able-bodied male between the ages of thirteen and one hundred Local, that is about eighteen Standard and late middle age, would receive training in both pike and longbow as soon as possible. These would form a citizen army of about six thousand, including one thousand considered an off-duty reserve to keep the essential trades active. The training schedule would start turning out green but combat-ready soldiers in about thirty days. The first class would consist of about twelve hundred recruits, so the entire training process would require five or six classes moving through the system.
Mass production of the new weapons would be given manufacturing priority. Farming and much of the trades’ labor would fall mainly to the comparable number of able-bodied women, although Delima insisted that any who were willing and able, should receive military training as well. Kirrah, who came from a tradition of military service that embraced equal opportunities for both men and women to be shot at, found herself uncomfortable at first with the idea of pitting women against men in such direct physical combat. Her reluctance crumbled at the thought of Peetha’s obvious abilities and the approximately thirty percent of women in the Wrth’s ranks, and it collapsed entirely when it was pointed out that it would add another one to two thousand soldiers to her forces.
Next, Kirrah turned to the problem of naval defenses. With Opeth, Peetha and Delima in tow, plus the good carpenter who had made her first longbow, they traveled by cart to the guild of shipwrights in the oldest part of the city, on the peninsula between the small lake and the North Geera tributary. The group quickly ruled out Kirrah’s ideas to obstruct the riverbed (the river
level would rise and flood the city) or wall the riverbank along its entire length (too long a project for the available time).
However it seemed prudent to put Kirrah’s new recruits to work while they were awaiting military training, building a wall to defend the bank of the river where it passed the military compound, and another wall across the narrow strip where a corner of the east quadrant of the city touched the riverbank. That would still leave the old section with its crucial warehouses and workshops, and the southwest farming sections, totally exposed to hostile river landings, Kirrah reflected with some uneasiness.
A little digging uncovered a few merchant sailors who could give eyewitness descriptions of the O’dai ‘excise ships’. With the nominal role of collecting an O’dai-imposed shipping tax, these vessels were about thirty meters long, two-masted, square-rigged, with auxiliary oar power. They mounted a variety of heavy siege-bows and catapults. A rather travelworn rumor claimed the O’dai ships which had besieged the city of Ale’appa had used something larger that sounded like a trebuchet, which if Kirrah remembered her history correctly, could throw a hundred-kilo stone for three hundred meters or more.
With some sketching and handwaving, she was able to get a very dubious shipwright to commit to work on a prototype sailing vessel of about twenty meters length, with two masts but fore-and-aft ketch rigged, on which he would mount as many of her new siegebows as could fit. Kirrah left the carpenter and the shipwright to figure out how to get two of the four-meter-long horizontally-mounted bows to fire forward and two to each side, three if possible.
They still don’t believe you can sail into the wind, Kirrah realized. She also ordered the immediate construction of a hundred small fire-rafts, two by four meter floating platforms carrying brush and flammable tar and strung together by floating ropes. At need these could be set aflame and pushed into the river to entangle and ignite hostile warships.
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