by John Dalmas
Macurdy suspected that Camp Merrawin could house more troops than Colroi could. But he went along with Morguil's wishes, so long as the raiders were housed under roofs. They had, he said, spent too many nights freezing under canvas or the stars. Strongarm had also insisted on roofs for his people. "We didn't come here to be treated as poor cousins," he told Morguil. "And we killed far more of the boogers than yer army did."
Strongarm's strong right arm was without a hand since the Battle of the Merrawin Plain, while Morguil, who had no military skills, hadn't fought. So concealing his displeasure as best he could, Morguil deferred to the dwarf. Telling himself if he didn't, the dwarves would not attend the congress, and they'd hold it against him forever.
Lord Naerrasil deeply resented Strongarm's implied criticism, and with some justification. His east ylvin army had fought desperately at Balralligh and Colroi, and under terrible circumstances. He'd lost more men than all his allies together, though mostly by execution after they'd surrendered. But because of his defeats, and his contempt for the Lion's raider strategy, his reputation had suffered. Anything he said would be discredited.
* * *
The disarmed hithar, under their own officers, were marched east to Colroi, herded by the remains of the Imperial East Ylvin Army, and units of the west ylver. Rations were short, and it was the prisoners who marched hungry. But there was little muttering in the hithik ranks; the Voitusotar had long since taught them subservience. Eventually, to the compliant, they'd allowed privileges, but any hint of unrest had been punished with quick and ruthless cruelty.
* * *
At Colroi, Macurdy and Varia were given a room with an actual stove. Each had anticipated a period of adjustment, of getting used to each other. But the process proved painless. And Varia wore her hair in twin ponytails, as she had in Indiana.
* * *
The Congress of Decision was a lot smaller than Macurdy had expected. It consisted of Morguil and his advisors; Lord Gaerimor acting for Gavriel, with the general of the west ylvin forces as his aide; Macurdy acting for the Rude Lands and the Sisterhood, with Vulkan and Lady Cyncaidh as his advisors; and Aldrik Egilsson Strongarm acting for Finn Greatsword. Two hithar, High Admiral Vellinghuus and General Horst, were brought from Balralligh to answer questions.
As far as Macurdy was concerned, the principal issue was what to do with some sixty thousand hithik prisoners of war.
On the first morning, the status of allied and hithik military forces was reviewed. And Vulkan described the nature of Kurqôsz's final sorcery, an awesome assembling, molding and energizing of powerful elementals. Without saying how, he stated flatly that it had been Macurdy who'd caused its cataclysmic collapse, and by that one act had won the war.
* * *
Subsequent discussions would be colored by the fact that two voitar in Balralligh had briefly survived the shocking event at the crown prince's headquarters. Both had died within two days, without emerging from their comas. But as far as was known, all the voitar at the crown prince's headquarters, Deep River, Camp Merrawin, and even Colroi had died instantly.
Macurdy and the ylver had assumed that the voitik hive mind was unaffected by distance. The two brief survivals seemed to contradict that. Admiral Vellinghuus volunteered that during the voyage, the voitar on his flagship had lost touch with their kinsmen in Hithmearc well before they'd completed the crossing. So clearly the attachment weakened with distance.
Even if only two at Balralligh had survived, for less than two days, and comatose, how many might have survived in Hithmearc, more than five thousand miles away? All of them? Most of them? Balralligh was less than four hundred miles from the event.
To begin with, it seemed irrelevant to the question of what should be done with the hithik prisoners. Morguil demanded reparations and vengeance for the terrible massacres, atrocities and destruction committed in his empire. Lord Gaerimor got Morguil's agreement to consider reparations and vengeance separately, starting with reparations.
Not only the Eastern Empire wanted reparations. Every Rude Lands kingdom that had sent troops wanted restitution for the expense, and something on the side.
But where would it come from? Certainly not from distant Hithmearc. The only voitik "wealth" at hand were (1) military equipment and supplies; (2) the ships of the voitik armada; and (3) the hithik prisoners of war. The value of military goods was of two sorts: their military value, and their value by conversion to civilian use. The main value of the ships was as merchantmen, but there were far more of them than all of Yuulith had use for.
The prisoners were of value primarily for labor.
Initially Morguil insisted that the disposition of hithik prisoners was the privilege of the Eastern Empire. They should, he said, be slaves. Perhaps half or a third could be set to work rebuilding his empire. The surplus would be auctioned to whoever cared to bid, to help finance that rebuilding. Selected ships would be taken over by the Eastern Empire as warships, The rest would be offered for sale. Voitik military equipment—that which couldn't be readily converted to civilian use—would be sold by the Eastern Empire as weapons, or melted down for other uses.
Strongarm objected instantly to the latter. It would swamp the market for metals—the heart of dwarven economy. Macurdy pointed out that so much weaponry could stimulate wars, an argument that brought strong agreement from Lord Gaerimor and, privately, from some of Morguil's staff. Macurdy then cited the Farside example of the American military in the Pacific Theater, where at the end of World War II, large amounts of ordnance had been dumped in the South China Sea, as being surplus to foreseeable needs, and expensive to transport and store.
Gaerimor argued against slavery. Use prisoners of war freely as forced labor, he said, but don't sell them. Both empires had enslaved conquered humans in the early days, and had still not fully recovered from the evil effects. "Let us not revive the practice," he finished. "If we do, it will be over my firm objections. And I promise you without reservation that Gavriel will agree with me on the matter."
Lord Naerrasil had kept out of the discussion till then. Now he spoke, caustically. "And what do you propose we do with the surplus? Execute them? Is that what you'd prefer? We can't afford to feed them." His voice dripped sarcasm. "Or perhaps the rest of you will send annual shipments of grain and cattle to feed them with."
Macurdy replied at once. His voice was matter of fact, but his blunt words were as undiplomatic at Naerrasil's, and more insulting. "Lord Naerrasil, I don't like your sarcasm on this subject any more than I liked it about my military proposals. You were wrong then, and you're wrong now. If His Majesty asked my advice, I'd suggest he fire you on charges of stupidity."
Macurdy's words shocked the eastern ylver attending, and Lord Gaerimor and his aide looked dismayed. Macurdy realized he'd overstepped. This was not, after all, some barracks or bar. He wondered if he'd endangered an agreement. But he continued. "Send the surplus prisoners back to Hithmearc. Then send the rest back when you're done with them. It's already obvious you can't get decent value for the ships."
No one replied to his suggestion, and Lord Gaerimor moved the meeting be adjourned till Three-Day. Morguil seconded the motion, and Gaerimor spent the next day with the eastern emperor trying to heal the damage. It had been Naerrasil's sarcasm, he pointed out, that had triggered Macurdy's insult. And earlier, at Duinarog, he'd insulted Macurdy very personally, on top of which, his criticisms had been proven utterly wrong.
"Frankly, Your Majesty," Gaerimor finished, "his lordship has long had a reputation for a quick and abusive tongue. And while he is your brother-in-law, you may nonetheless wish to speak to him about it. We do, after all, have agreements to work out. And Field Marshal Macurdy provided and led the actions that won the war. He bled, embarrassed and worried the voitar into undertaking a sorcery they could not adequately control. And then destroyed them with it. Without the Lion, it would be Crown Prince Kurqôsz, and not ourselves, dictating the peace."
He paused,
giving time for his argument to sink in. Then added, "And almost surely, so powerful a psychic shock was felt even in Hithmearc. Felt sorely enough that I expect the Voitusotar will leave us alone in the future."
Morguil was not as optimistic as Gaerimor claimed to be, but he let the matter he. Instead he defended Naerrasil's criticism. "Marshal Macurdy," he pointed out, "is not only a commoner, he's a half-blood at best. That makes his insult far more offensive than it would otherwise be, and Naerrasil's considerably less."
Gaerimor regarded the argument for a long moment before replying. "That's true, as far as it goes," he said diplomatically. "But consider. In talent, Macurdy excels any ylf I know of in recent centuries. In that, one might say, he is more ylvin than we ylver. As for his common birth—legend has our aristocracies originating from commoners of great accomplishment. And Field Marshal Macurdy's accomplishments, both recent and past, abundantly qualify him as noble. If, unfortunately, somewhat rough-spoken." His lordship chanced a chuckle, to lighten the tone of the discussion. "As for a title, he has already been dubbed the 'Lion of Farside'; Gavriel routinely refers to him that way, as I do, and regards him very highly. I have no doubt he will confer a formal title on him, with a fief of some sort."
He closed his case with an oblique pitch to Morguil's well-known religious leanings. "It seems to me," he finished, "that the Lion is greatly favored by the All Soul. How else would he have been given such power, and so formidable a companion as the great boar."
Morguil chewed his lip thoughtfully.
* * *
Gaerimor left with hopes he'd see no more of Lord Naerrasil at the sessions, but Naerrasil continued to attend. It appeared, however, that Morguil had reprimanded him effectively. At any rate his lordship said little in open session, and when he did speak, he was stiffly courteous.
Over the next two weeks the congress worked diligently, and Macurdy saw the advantage in its small membership: there were fewer personalities and attitudes getting in the way. Especially, he told himself wryly, when I keep my own damn mouth under control.
In fact, both he and Morguil let Gaerimor run the sessions. Physically, Gaerimor looked like an affable but rather bland young ylf. But from his aura and knowledge, Macurdy guessed him at sixty years or more. Chairing the congress took a lot out of him. He became haggard, and Macurdy wondered if it was the onset of decline. His first task was to bring Morguil to the understanding that these annoying "others" around him had rescued his empire. And did not now owe him quick and easy recovery as well. Destruction was a reality of war, and recovery would require time, sacrifice, and continued privation, as well as much hard work.
After Morguil, Strongarm was Gaerimor's greatest headache. The dwarf knew what he wanted, was certain he knew what Finn Greatsword wanted, and was disinclined to compromise.
Eventually however, Gaerimor came up with a document that both Strongarm and Morguil accepted.
The keystone was disposition of the prisoners. For that, Gaerimor had adopted and adapted Macurdy's suggestions. The Eastern Empire would draw up a large rebuilding program, rough and quick. It would then estimate what labor was needed, and create the labor crews from prisoners, keeping in mind that they had to be fed and clothed to be effective. The surplus prisoners would be sent back to Hithmearc, on as few ships as could reasonably haul them. The ships would then return, if they were allowed to, to haul other prisoners when they'd completed their rebuilding tasks.
Certain other ships would augment the east ylvin merchant fleet. The rest would be dismantled, and the materials used for whatever domestic purposes were deemed appropriate by the Eastern Empire.
If the prisoner ships did not return, only then would prisoners become property of the empire. And they could not be sold, bartered, or otherwise exchanged. Except that they could buy their freedom if and when able, or receive it from the government.
The King in Silver Mountain would receive certain mining rights he'd long coveted, from the west ylver. Who in turn would receive favorable trading terms on several classes of goods from the Sisterhood, plus sixty percent of the backup cordage and canvas from the voitik armada, eighty barrels of tar, and one hundred of pitch.
That was just the beginning. Gaerimor had found something for everyone, in a maze of cross-arrangements that Macurdy didn't try to keep track of. Though Morguil's accountants seemed to, as did Strongarm. To Macurdy it was a monstrous version of some three-cornered personnel deals he'd heard about in baseball, on the radio back on Farside. Including versions of "players to be named later."
It seemed so complex, with some of the terms so ill-defined, or difficult to control, Macurdy couldn't imagine them being met. But it was an agreement, and as finally signed—organized into sections and subsections, with diagrams!—it looked useable. If the main features were more or less followed, it should work. He hoped.
Macurdy was responsible for the interests of the Rude Lands and the Sisterhood, and felt totally inadequate to the job. Fortunately, Gaerimor covered for him. The Rude Lands and Sisterhood received mainly trade agreements, but to Macurdy they seemed remarkably good trade agreements—well designed to fit their needs and potentials. And both empires honored the contracts Macurdy had made with Oz.
* * *
It was Morguil personally who'd brought up the one worrisome aspect of sending hithar home. It was a matter of the known versus the unknown. In Hithmearc, no one knew what had become of the armada and army, and if no one returned, they'd wonder why. After a while, they might assume that the hazards of the sea, Vismearc and war had claimed them. But returning the prisoners would expose the truth. And if the voitar in Hithmearc had survived the crash of Kurqôsz's sorcery, they might decide to invade again.
It was Strongarm whose viewpoint prevailed. "Considering what happened this time," he said, "they'd be daft to try." The conferees were not entirely reassured, but they accepted it.
The matter of vengeance barely came up again. When it did, Macurdy had the odd experience of finding himself and Naerrasil on the same side. Morguil let the subject drop. Dealing with reparations had been trouble enough.
* * *
The Rude Lands soldiers were to be paid by their own rulers, of course. But the raiders who'd ridden the long cold extra days to serve at the congress were rewarded with two hithik horses each, and the right to take whatever they wished from hithik officers, short of the clothes they wore. When the prisoners realized what was happening, officers passed their valuables to enlisted men. But the raiders quickly caught on and pillaged them all, officers and soldiers. And did quite well.
* * *
Macurdy, for reasons of his own, arranged a favor with the east ylvin Lord Felstroin, who had especially appreciated Macurdy's scathing of Naerrasil, and said privately that if he ever wanted a favor done... Macurdy jumped on the offer like a weasel on a baby duck. Felstroin, who was in charge of prisoner assignments, was to watch for a bright young hithu of good character who showed decent skill with Yuultal, and send him to Aaerodh Manor.
That's where Macurdy would be, for he and Varia remarried in a private ceremony presided over by the Archbishop of Colroi. Lord Gaerimor and Sergeant Ceonigh Cyncaidh stood as witnesses. This time it was Macurdy who'd proposed. They were already married, of course, had been since February 1930. But Farside was in a different universe. They would live together at Aaerodh. Ceonigh Cyncaidh, his lordship's eldest son, was little more than halfway to thirty-five, his majority. Till then, her ladyship was the executor of the dukedom, the ducal regent so to speak.
And neither son was interested in agriculture. Macurdy, on the other hand, was a farmer born and raised, who wanted no more of war or the military. He would manage the ducal lands.
* * *
There was no formal banquet celebrating the peace agreement. There was no place to hold one, nor the makings for anything suitably festive. So late on the day of its signing, Macurdy went to Gaerimor's quarters to express his respect. He and Lady Cyncaidh, he said, planned t
o leave the next day.
"Well then," Gaerimor replied, "let the two of us celebrate." His lordship rummaged in a large wicker hamper of rumpled clothing, and came up with a wine bottle. "From Morguil, no less," he said grinning, "in appreciation of my efforts."
Efforts, Macurdy thought. Judging by Gaerimor's face, a strenuous effort. But however tired, the ylf seemed in excellent spirits. He pulled out a shirttail and wiped a couple of wine glasses with it before filling them. "The quality is excellent," he commented. "I just tried it."
Macurdy sipped and nodded. "I wonder," he said, thinking of the agreement, "how carefully people will stick to the terms. With no enforcement arranged for."
Gaerimor laughed. "The needful thing," he said, "was to get a broad written agreement. Government and commerce are neither one entirely honest. But they involve continuous decisions, which can require a lot of pondering, weighing, and balancing. Our agreement provides the several governments with a fixed and reasonably clear reference of action. Wherever pertinent they'll tend to follow it, as the course of least effort. Fudging of course. And there is always the matter of relations between states, and concern over reputation and retaliation."
Macurdy nodded. "Another thing," he said. "I can't for the life of me see how you came up with all those agreement terms."