A Dubious Peace

by Olan Thorensen

The girl snatched the paper from Yozef’s hand, rolled it up to be easier to carry, wheeled, and raced back out the door.

  “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell anyone what this is all about, are you?” asked Synton.

  Why not? thought Yozef. It has to be someone from Earth, though for everyone here it’s someone from the mysterious Amerika of Yozef Kolsko. Word will get out. Keeping it secret from people like Synton could be taken as a lack of trust.

  “You read the message, Synton. Balwis says the man from the Buldorian ship claims to have a message from the Buldorians for me. That nonsense at the end of the message tells me that the man might be from Amerika—my original homeland.”

  The guard betrayed his usual unflappable self. “Amerika! You’ve never told me that directly, but word gets around. I also heard you don’t know of anyone else from there. In that case, I guess I can see how it might have hit you pretty hard. I didn’t get a chance to read the answer you sent back to Balwis. You gave it to Hilma too fast. I suppose this means you’ll be going to Preddi City.”

  “Right away,” said Yozef. “I need to talk to Maera. She’s supposed to be at St. Wyan’s Cathedral at a meeting about the plans for the University of Caedellium campus here in Orosz City. She mentioned there was some disagreement about teaching comparative religions.”

  “Hah!” Synton said with a laugh. “I don’t personally know that many theophists, but I can imagine a couple theophist heads exploding when they heard your idea.”

  “Yeah, you’re not far off. Most are okay with the concept once it’s explained. We’re not trying to convert people to other religions, but it’s part of required education that we understand other nations and peoples. Caedellium is going to interact more than ever before.”

  “You want me to get another runner to locate her?” asked Synton.

  “I’ll walk to the cathedral. It’s only fifteen minutes away. How about if you get my horse and meet me there? I’ll be going home right after I talk to Maera.”

  “Well . . . that’s not going to happen. You walking anywhere without me. Maera would skin me alive as soon as she saw you walking alone. Anyway, don’t you think you might need to tell people what you’re doing before heading off to Preddi City? After all . . . you are the Paramount. At a minimum, there’s a good dozen people who need to be told where you’re going, even if not why you’re going there.”

  Yozef looked blankly at Synton, who rolled his eyes.

  “You know. Hetman Orosz. Carnigan. Kivalian. Kloona, the woman in charge of your staff. I’m sure I can think of a few more.”

  Shit. He’s right, Yozef told himself. I’m not thinking straight.

  At a minimum, he needed to alert the half-dozen men and women in the outer office that he would be traveling to Preddi City and be there for an uncertain length of time. Intellectually, he knew that his days of being able to go anywhere without people knowing were over. Not that he didn’t find time for himself, but it was always planned and required leaving notice of his whereabouts.

  He sighed. “You’re right. I acted as if I was going to leave for Preddi City in the next few minutes.” He looked at the clock hanging on the far wall. It was a gift to the Paramount from the best clockmaker on Caedellium, a late sixties Stent man living in Clitwyth, the Stent Clan capital.

  “We’ve only another couple hours of daylight left. I have too much to do to leave today. Anyway, it’s so much slower traveling at night. If I left now, it’d be two nights’ travel, and I’d get to Preddi City just about the same time as if I leave tomorrow morning.”

  “I assume you’ll be taking the train,” said Synton. “The section from here to Preddi City isn’t complete, but there’s only a fifteen-mile or so gap southwest of Hanslow in Brell Province.”

  A major ongoing project was the construction of rail lines using wooden rails with iron caps. The cars were horse-drawn until the first steam engines were operational. The hub of the planned network was Orosz City. A 221-mile line to Preddi City was near completion.

  A second partly completed line connected Bultecki Province to Orosz City and then on to the Stent, Pewitt, and Swavebroke provinces—the purpose being to connect immense iron ore deposits in Bultecki Province to the coalfields of the western provinces. Yozef envisioned an iron industry in Pewitt and Swavebroke as soon as the rail line was completed, they had steam engines strong enough to pull ore trains, and they worked out smelting and iron-processing procedures. The plan was a stupendous act of faith.

  The only completed line was from Orosz City to Adris City on the Gulf of Normot. The gulf and the harbor would serve as the future Caedellium naval base. Yozef didn’t envision a Caedellium navy to rival that of Fuomon or Narthon, but the island nation needed enough of a navy to at least patrol its own waters and deter raiders such as the Buldorians. The entire Caedellium navy consisted of a single sloop being built under the supervision of Fuomi shipwrights and a prospective crew trained by Fuomi sailors. The crew was to be a motley collection of Caedelli, ex-Narthani sailors who had deserted from the last ships to leave Caedellium, and Fuomi sailors given permission to immigrate to the island. The gulf also provided a safe harbor for a squadron of Fuomi warships for however long Fuomon was willing to provide a degree of naval protection.

  A conspicuously loud throat clearing brought Yozef back to the moment. Synton waited for an answer.

  “Yes, the train,” said Yozef.

  Synton turned to the still open door and barked a name. Seconds later, a middle-aged woman hurried through the door, stopped, looked first at Synton, then at Yozef, and continued to the Paramount’s desk.

  “Yes, Paramount. What do you need?”

  “Kloona, I’ll be leaving Orosz City first thing tomorrow morning and visiting Preddi City for I don’t know how long. Take care of all the details of my being away. You know . . . canceling meetings, sending messages to anyone expecting to see me, and alerting those who need to know where I’ll be. Also, get a message to Pilo Starwell that I’ll want a train ready to leave at first light tomorrow. He’s also to semaphore to have horses at the end of the line toward Preddi City for me and . . . ”

  He looked at Synton, who read his mind and answered without being prompted. “You don’t need to know what this is all about, but it should be safe enough, especially if you tell Starwell not to pass along who’s traveling. I’ll be going. I think one more guard will be sufficient. I can check if Gowlin or Toowin are available.”

  “Make it Carnigan,” Yozef said. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “Anybody else? Maera? Advisers?”

  “No, just three of us.”

  Synton looked at the woman who was Yozef’s clerical staff leader.

  “So,” she said. “A rail coach for Preddi City. From your expressions, I assume you want to get there as fast as possible. I’ll work with Starwell to have horses at this end of the line construction and another train at the other end.”

  She stopped and thought. “The horses will be fresh. Depending on the weather and how much they’ll be pushed, it should take two hours, plus or minus, to get to the other end of the gap. Assuming a coach is waiting, and you want to travel at night, the total rail trip will be around . . . hmmmm . . . thirty hours. Even with lanterns, the coach won’t be able to make more than four to five miles per hour at night. That’ll put you in Preddi City around noon the following day.”

  She looked at him expectantly.

  “That’s fine, Kloona. See to it.”

  “Yes, Paramount,” she said and left, closing the door behind her.

  “All right, let’s go find Maera,” said Yozef, who rose from the chair and started toward the door.

  “Hold on,” said Synton. “Merciful God, you need a nursemaid sometimes. Look out the window! It is raining right now. Get your cloak, and don’t forget you have to go armed.”

  Yozef flushed, then laughed. “I don’t need a nursemaid. I already have one. His name is Synton Ethlore.”

  He turned back
toward the set of pegs on the wall next to his desk, where a variety of garments were suspended, including a rain cloak. But first he opened the drawer of a cabinet and pulled out a leather belt from which hung a small pistol and a seven-inch, double-edged knife in a holster and sheath. He hoped the day would come when he didn’t have to carry weapons and be accompanied by guards. However, unless he wanted to fight it, that decision would be made by a combination of Maera, Anarynd, Carnigan, Synton, and God knew who else? The one attempt on his life had been months in the past, but the surprise of it happening had shocked everyone.

  “There. Any other comments, Mother?” said Yozef.

  Synton only grunted and opened the door.

  The fifteen-minute walk to the cathedral took nineteen minutes. After Yozef’s initial rush to get moving, his pace was slow as he formulated what he would say to Maera. He had religiously kept to his cover story of originating from a land called Amerika, being kidnapped by parties unknown, being transported by ship for an unknown distance and length of time, and being cast away, naked on a beach. Most people accepted the story with varying degrees of astonishment, skepticism, or naiveté. However, Maera wasn’t most people. Her initial probing of the story stopped when he admitted there were secrets he couldn’t tell her yet but maybe someday. He suspected she had been advised to desist by Diera or Sistian Beynom or both. What would happen when there was a second target of her curiosity?

  Early in their relationship, he had thought the day might come when he would tell her the entire truth. Then, as time passed, the possibility receded as his life became more complex. Now, here he was again with the issue of secrets starkly facing him.

  Nothing seemed clearer by the time they reached the cathedral.

  They found Maera in one of the meeting rooms in the administrative building of St. Wyan’s complex. Yozef judged he wouldn’t be disturbing the meeting. Eleven men and women stood talking in three clusters, and a twelfth person left the room just as they arrived.

  Maera spotted them as soon as they walked in the door. A questioning eyebrow arched, and she said something to those gathered around her. Even after their years of marriage and two children, whenever he saw her after being apart, even for a few hours, he felt his heart rate jump, and the urge to smile was reflexive.

  Today, she wore a plain brown dress held at the waist by a finely crafted leather belt. The ends of a forest green scarf fell on her chest, and her brown hair was tied back by a green ribbon. She always wore something green, either a main garment or an accessory. She knew green was his favorite color. He once told her it was a good color to match her green eyes. Anarynd followed the habit, but Yozef had never seen a reason to tell his other wife that blue was her color—matching her blonde hair and blue eyes.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here,” said Maera. “I’m guessing you have some news. Good or bad?”

  He took her gently by an elbow and pulled her into the hall, then looked around to see if anyone besides Synton was listening. “A semaphore message came from Balwis. He says a Buldorian ship delivered a man who says he has a message to me from an important Buldorian leader.”

  “What? Why in the—”

  “That’s not what’s most important,” said Yozef, cutting off her questioning. “Another part of the message makes me believe this man is from Amerika. Like me.”

  She stood quiet and expressionless as she studied his face for the next thirty seconds. “I assume what was in the message makes you believe it’s plausible the man is what he claims. In that case, you’ll want to go to Preddi City as soon as possible.”

  As Yozef had many times, he silently thanked whatever God or gods may exist for his good fortune in marrying Maera.

  “Yes. I want to leave first thing tomorrow morning on a train.”

  Maera looked at Synton, who said, “Yes . . . everything is being arranged. Starwell is taking care of trains and some horses to cross the construction gap. Kloona is dealing with meetings and whatever paperwork you people have to do while he’s gone. I’ll be going with them, and he wants to take Carnigan. On second thought, maybe we should have told Starwell to arrange the sturdiest coaches if we’re taking that big oaf.”

  “All right,” said Maera, turning back to Yozef. “That’s a good start, but remember you’re supposed to be in Adris City in a sixday.”

  Yozef groaned. “I forgot. God’s Mercy.” He had almost said, “God damn,” but he’d learned early that calling for God’s damnation bordered on blasphemy for some Caedelli.

  The meeting in Adris City was to deal with fishing territories that northern clans had been unable to settle disputes by themselves: Skouks, Pawell, Nyvaks, and Bevans. The tension between Nyvaks and Pawell was long-standing. Yozef thought he had forced a truce between the two clans months ago, only to have tensions erupt again and spill over to the adjacent clans, Skouks and Bevans. Yozef had called for the involved hetmen to meet with him in Adris City. It would also give him the opportunity to inspect the progress in training the crew of Caedellium’s first warship, a sloop. Both the meeting and the inspection would have to wait.

  “I’ll semaphore all the hetmen,” said Maera, “and follow it up with diplomatically worded letters. You know . . . unexpected Paramount business in Preddi City, will reschedule the meeting to a later date.”

  “Thanks, Maera, I appreciate it, but there’s still time left. I’ll get back to my office and write out the semaphore messages and letters. They all know you speak for me, but it’s still better if letters are in my handwriting.”

  Maera shrugged. “Then I’ll go on home and put together what you’ll need for the travel. Any idea how long you’ll be in Preddi City?”

  Yozef tugged at his beard. “I can’t say. If it turns out to be nothing, then I’ll come straight back. Hmmmm . . . on second thought, I’m traveling through Moreland and Brell provinces, and Selfcell is close. I probably should make brief stops in at least Brell and Moreland on the way back. We’ve talked about how I would like to visit each clan every year, but it doesn’t look as if that’s going to be practical. At least this way, I can check off some of the twenty-one clans for this year.”

  “That will change how I pack for you,” said Maera. “If you’re making Paramount visits to clans, you’ll need clothes for formal occasions, travel, everyday use, and multiple changes for each. When you add what Synton and Carnigan will have to take, you’ll need a couple of carriages to cross the gap in the rail line.”

  Yozef was tempted to say he would stick with the horses, and the baggage could follow by carriage. He suppressed the temptation. His mind was still whirling with the implications of Balwis’s semaphore message, and he wasn’t comfortable cluing Maera in on his state of mind.

  “Let’s get back to the headquarters,” said Synton. “While you’re writing your letters, I’ll take care of the transportation changes from what we sent to Starwell. You’ll have to take Isla with you, too. You know the reason.”

  Yozef suppressed a groan. “The ambassadors.”

  Maera nodded. “You delayed dealing with them, which I sympathize with.”

  Yozef noted she didn’t say she agreed with his procrastination.

  “But your being in Preddi City, no matter the reason, means it will be unavoidable. I’m sure Balwis will strongly push meetings, and you have Savronel Storlini to help arrange things and advise with his impressions. Isla has read all of Storlini’s reports on the representatives. She’s been gathering as much information as possible from other sources, such as the few people on Caedellium who have experience with Iraquiniks or Landoliners.”

  Yozef acknowledged that Maera was correct. It was time to deal with the representatives, ambassadors, or whatever parties from other realms were calling themselves. He had skimmed what intelligence they had on those entities, but Isla and Storlini would be invaluable. Isla Kennrick-Luwis and her husband, Gartherid Kennrick, had been key members of the Military Intelligence Unit (MIU) established during the war against th
e Narthani. For the past months, Isla had a small staff developing intelligence on the Iraquiniks and the Landoliners.

  “You’re right about Isla. I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, but no point rushing Isla to accompany me. I’m certain I’ll be tied up with the surprise visitor and Balwis for a couple of days. Meanwhile, Storlini can start making plans for meetings, and Isla can join me when she arrives in Preddi City.”

  Five hours later, Maera and Anarynd sat on a veranda swing in front of Kolsko Manor in the mountain cleft above Orosz City. Yozef had been later than expected returning home. Then he had talked with Carnigan, who had been informed by Maera of the next day’s trip to Preddi City. By the time Yozef was ready for evening meal, it was only him, Maera, and Anarynd, the children having already been put to bed. The three of them ate and talked, and then Yozef retired, leaving the two women alone.

  “Was I imagining it, or is Yozef worried?” Anarynd queried.

  “Well . . . you know how it is sometimes with Yozef,” said Maera. “It can be difficult to read his emotions. Partly, I think I agree with you about the worry. But then when he talked about the possibility of meeting one of his original fellow countrymen, he had a definite level of excitement.”

  Maera sensed Anarynd was hiding something.

  “What is it, Ana? Are you afraid he might find out where this Amerika is and want to return to his home?”

  “Oh, Maera, you don’t think that would happen, do you?” said Anarynd, wringing her hands.

  Maera reached over to grasp both of Anarynd’s hands and held them tight.

  “No. I know he can’t help but miss his homeland and family, but look at what he has here. He’s the Paramount Hetman of all Caedellium, a step above every clan hetman. Think of all he’s done since he was cast away on our shores. All the new products he’s introduced. Leading the victory over the Narthani. All the friends he has here and how honored he is. Most of all, his family. You, me, the children. No . . . there’s no chance he would leave us.”

  Anarynd visibly relaxed. She believed Maera knew Yozef better than anyone, including herself. If Maera wasn’t worried, then neither should she be. She didn’t know that Maera only told her a half-truth. Maera thought it highly unlikely Yozef would ever consider leaving Caedellium to return to Amerika—but a sliver of doubt lingered.