A Dubious Peace

by Olan Thorensen

  “Well, I guess customs are different around Anyar. You can always fashion yourself one of these bras if you feel better, but it may make people stare more often. You know . . . seeing something different. They might wonder if you don’t have nipples.”

  “I guess I can do without that,” said Heather. “I’m already getting stares because of my eyes. Some of the people seemed startled, even nervous. Others are maybe just curious.”

  “I expect that will pass once people are accustomed to seeing you. I understand Yozef says eyes like that are common in Amerika?”

  “In some parts more than others. It was very common where I lived.”

  “I hope I don’t give offense,” said Maghen, “but I admit I stared a bit when we first met. I asked Mark if you had been stung or if your eyes were something abnormal you were born with. That was then. Now it seems perfectly normal. Even better, attractive in an exotic way. I wouldn’t be surprised if some men find it alluring.”

  “That I can do without.”

  Heather gave an imperceptible shudder, noticed by Ceinwyn but not Maghen.

  “Again, up to you, but I might mention these bras to Anarynd the next time I see her,” said Ceinwyn. “She mentioned that her breasts were so heavy while she was breast-feeding, they caused her back to hurt. Maybe something like the Frangel strofen or the Amerikan bra might help. I’ll mention it to Yozef in case I forget when I see Anarynd.”

  Heather’s expression suggested dubiousness.

  “Yozef is going to talk about breasts to this Anarynd?” said Heather. “I guess customs are quite different here.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” said Ceinwyn. “Anarynd is Yozef’s wife.”

  Heather’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m confused. I thought your sister Maera was Yozef’s wife.”

  “Both Maera and Anarynd are his wives.”

  “Yozef has two wives?”

  “That’s right. Your expression says you’re surprised. There aren’t multiple wives occasionally in Amerika?”

  “Not legally. It’s a crime to be married to more than one woman and is considered immoral by many people.”

  “Well . . . it’s not all that common here,” said Ceinwyn, “though more so since the war. So many men were killed. That left widows and other women with little chance of marrying since even in normal times more girls are born than boys. That means we always have more women than men—not that many more, of course. The theophists have officially sanctioned the practice when circumstances warrant. From what I understand, they expect it to happen less often in future generations once the numbers of men and women are closer to the way they were before the war.”

  “I don’t see how that would work,” said Heather. “I would expect that the first wife would have to be completely willing, which I doubt.”

  “Well, in this case it was Maera’s idea. She and Anarynd were the closest friends, and Anarynd had been rejected by her family. You’ll have to ask Maera for the full story. I understand Yozef wasn’t immediately agreeable, but both Maera and Anarynd were in favor. It’s something where the people involved have to work it out, which they have in this case. You’ll meet Maera and Anarynd in Orosz City. Maera can be a bit intimidating, but she’s honest and not a petty person like I used to be. As for Anarynd, she’s a sweet woman who everyone likes.

  “Oh . . . and Anarynd is more than just a wife of the Paramount. She’s also the mother of the heir to one day be the Moreland Clan hetman. That’s another story worth hearing about.”

  “Wait,” said Heather. “You said before there are more girls than boys? More girl babies are born than boys?”

  “That’s right. No one knows why God would have it that way. You’d think it would be equal numbers. I’ve heard people suggest that the difference shows God’s approval of multiple wives, but no theophist I know of agrees, so who knows?”

  “But it’s not that way in Amerika,” said Heather. “I don’t know the exact numbers, but a few more boys are born than girls.”

  “That’s the way it is in Frangel,” said Maghen. “Well . . . at least where I was from in central Frangel. Slightly more boys.”

  Maghen frowned. “Although . . . now that I think about it, there was a woman who moved to Nurburt. That’s the town nearest my family’s ranch and the ranch I worked at when I met Mark. The woman—I think her name was Nilta or something—claimed more girls were born in some parts of northern Frangel, where she was from. Why would it be different in different parts of Frangel?”

  “And I didn’t notice or hear anything like that in Sulako,” said Heather. “At least, the part I was in. I didn’t move far from where I was cast onto a beach.”

  Ceinwyn raised both hands, palms up. “Who knows the ways of God or why the world is as it is? For whatever reason, things are the way they are here on Caedellium. Heather, I suggest you not say anything about multiple wives being immoral. People will take it as an insult to the Paramount and to anyone they happen to know in that situation—maybe friends or family. I know I would be insulted if you had said it to me, and I didn’t know you are new to Caedellium and don’t know our customs.”

  “Thanks for the warning. I’ve had a habit of putting my foot in it in Amerika, and I certainly don’t want to do it here.”

  “Your foot in it?” asked Maghen.

  Ceinwyn laughed hard enough to hold her sides. “I think Heather means to not make a mistake. We say something very similar here. ‘Don’t step barefoot into horse shit.’”

  It was Maghen’s turn to laugh.

  “Oh, my God! We say almost the same thing in Frangel. And similar in Amerika!? I wonder if every place on Anyar says almost the same thing!”

  In the following minutes, comparisons of idioms brought forth so much laughter that the shop owner peeked in to check for problems.

  Three hours later, after eating a mid-day meal of bread, cheese, and fruit purchased from open stalls, and after exhausting Alys’s tolerance for shopping, Ceinwyn summoned the carriage to return to the villa. Ceinwyn helped carry the purchases inside and was about to leave before Maghen gestured for her to stay.

  “I’m going to put Alys down for a nap,” said Maghen. “It shouldn’t take me more than five to ten minutes, and I’ll be back.

  “I’m tired, too,” said Heather. “I’m also going to lie down for a while.”

  “Both of you go ahead,” said Ceinwyn. “I’ll be out back.”

  When Maghen returned, Ceinwyn had opened a bottle of wine and held her glass in one hand while extending another glass to Maghen.

  “The day is so nice, and we worked so hard,” said Ceinwyn with a grin. “I decided we could relax for a while. Men don’t realize how physically tiring shopping can be.”

  “Don’t try and tell Mark shopping is not work. He’ll wrestle cattle before he goes shopping if he has a choice.”

  Ceinwyn settled into a wicker chair and sipped from her glass. “I take it there’s something you wanted to talk about without Heather being present.”

  “Yes. It’s about Heather. Do you know anything about her story in Sulako?”

  Ceinwyn shook her head. “No. Oh . . . just that all three of you Amerikans say you were left naked on beaches in different parts of Anyar. A very strange story for all three Amerikans. I don’t know what to make of it. Who would do such a thing to people who evidently didn’t know one another before? And why?”

  “Something you should know,” Maghen said. “Heather told me much of what happened to her while we were on the Buldorian ship headed here, though I’m sure not all the details. Both Mark and evidently Yozef were fortunate to be looked after by good people until they learned the languages and could take care of themselves. Being small and a woman obviously made her status different, and Heather was not as fortunate as the men. Without being able to speak to the people and being unknown to them, she was immediately made a slave and sold to a rich man in the Sulako city of Iskadon. He abused her until he realized she was so musically talented,
he could make gold from her performances. She managed to strike a deal that she would perform as long as she didn’t have to be taken to his bed.”

  Ceinwyn sighed. “I can imagine how that affected her. If you all go to Orosz City, there should be a chance for her to talk with Anarynd and Gwyned Puvey.”

  Maghen started to question Ceinwyn on her statement, but Alys took that moment to walk in and declare her nap was over.

  CHAPTER 8

  MURDER MOST FOUL

  Yozef arrived at the clan headquarters an hour after sunrise, his mood buoyant. He would meet again with Mark and Heather. Besides simply “talking Earth,” Yozef wanted to finalize plans for returning to Orosz City. He knew the Kaldwel family would remain to fulfill Mark’s promise to Maghen for a peaceful month in a beautiful setting. Undecided yet was whether Heather would wait for Mark or accompany Yozef immediately to the capital.

  Yozef’s mood changed the instant he walked into the Preddi headquarters building. A dozen or more staff members stood scattered around the hallway, on the stairs, and in door openings. Talking stopped, and grim faces turned to the Paramount.

  He froze mid-step. Oh, shit, he thought. Now what happened?

  He’d had too many such moments the last few years. His thoughts focused on finding out what had caused the scene before him. A middle-aged woman at the base of the stairs pointed up. He took it to mean the answer waited in the hetman’s office.

  He climbed the steps two at a time and strode quickly to Balwis’s office, not noticing staff in the outer room. Balwis looked out the window. Wyfor and Savronel stood by the desk, but their heads turned to Yozef as he entered.

  “Why can’t one god-damned week go by without some shit like this popping up?” said Balwis to the window glass and the outside world. “And why did I ever let Yozef talk me into taking this job? I’d have been perfectly happy running my family’s horse ranch.”

  Yozef sighed. “I suppose I’ll need to know what happened? On the other hand, if I don’t need to know, then just tell me to go away for now, and I’ll come back later.”

  Balwis whirled. “No, you don’t. Most of this was your idea. Me being hetman. Recreating the Preddi Clan with previous clanspeople, Narthani slaves, and a dose of ex-Narthani. I told you it wasn’t going to work. Just too many things had happened to Preddians that they felt called out for justice.”

  Balwis let out a string of curses.

  Yozef had a good idea where this was going. He just needed the details. He knew Balwis well enough and was patient, so he went to the table near the window and sat opposite from where Balwis stood. A minute passed before the curses slowed, almost as if the speaker searched his memory for ones he’d missed. Finally, the exposition ended. Balwis sighed, looked at Yozef, sighed again, and sat in the opposite chair. Wyfor and Savronel filled the last two seats.

  “We just got news from Ponth,” said Savronel. “Since the town isn’t that far north of here, the mayor sent a rider with a written report, instead of using the semaphore. A Preddi man murdered a father and his fourteen-year-old son. The two victims were ex-Narthani. The father was a blacksmith, one of the craftsmen the Narthani brought in to support their army and Narthani civilians.”

  Balwis shook his head. “It’s what we were afraid would happen. The Preddi man, named Yulwyn Washton, had multiple reasons to hate the Narthani. He had owned a blacksmith shop in Preddi City. When the Narthani took control of Preddi Province, the shop was given to a Narthani immigrant. Washton and his family were forced to move to Ponth, where he worked in a blacksmith shop also taken over by another Narthani. About a year later, one of his sons and a daughter were among a group who stole a fishing boat and tried to sail to Dornfeld in Keelan Province. The father didn’t find out what they planned on doing in time to stop them. The boat was intercepted by a Narthani patrol. There were fourteen men and six women. The men were executed, and the women sent to the troop brothels, where the daughter died a few months later, the cause unknown.”

  “Is the Washton man in custody?” asked Yozef.

  “He didn’t try to run, hide, or resist, according to the Ponth magistrate,” said Wyfor. “It happened in broad daylight in a prominent market area of Ponth. Washton killed the father with an ax, then the son when he tried to come to his father’s aid. I’m afraid it could have been even worse. The victim’s wife and two younger children had just gone into a bakery. The father and the son were waiting outside.

  “Several men made moves to intervene, but when Washton finished, he dropped the ax, then walked to the middle of street, yelling out that justice had been done and that the same should happen to all Narthani.”

  Wyfor stop talking, and no one spoke for almost a minute before Savronel cleared his throat and continued.

  “As bad as that is, what is potentially worse is that some people cheered. A small group gathered around Washton. The magistrate’s report didn’t give the exact number. They congratulated him and supported his call for the death of all Narthani.”

  It was Yozef’s turn to curse, though his string lasted only a few seconds. “Is there any chance the murdered man had something to do with Washton losing his blacksmith shop in Preddi City or perhaps found out about the escape attempt and told the Narthani authorities?”

  “No connection that’s known,” said Savronel. “So far, it looks like the victims were chosen at random, the only criteria being that they were ex-Narthani.”

  “I guess there is no need to discuss what has to happen,” said Yozef.

  Balwis’s expression appeared as if he’d just bitten into something rancid. “A trial. A murder trial. The Ponth magistrate is already sending Washton here, along with witnesses and written statements from several more. They’ll be here later today.” Balwis looked at Yozef. “Unless you have another idea, I’ll go ahead and have the trial tomorrow.”

  Having speedy trials was one aspect of Caedelli society that Yozef believed to be both good and bad. On one hand, there was no such thing as an unnecessary court delay. If the accused and all relevant witnesses were on hand, a trial was held as soon as a three-judge panel was assembled. By tradition, though not law, judging for major crimes was done by the hetman of the province the crime occurred in, a leading citizen of the province, and an adjudicator, a recognized legal expert who may or may not be from the same province and who was usually associated with one of the major cathedral complexes.

  On the other hand, with no court delays, an aroused public had no time to cool, no psychological exams of the accused could be conducted, and there was no defense lawyer. The case was presented by the province’s chief magistrate or designated deputy.

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to be a major participant in the trial,” said Yozef, to Balwis’s surprise.

  “That’s not according to tradition,” said Balwis, “at least as far as I understand it.”

  “That’s because there’s never been a Paramount Hetman or any crime exactly like this one. We’ve probably been lucky that nothing like this has happened before. I will attribute that primarily to you, Balwis. You managed to keep this barrel of gunpowder from exploding longer than we might have predicted. There are just too many Preddi with justifiable grievances against the Narthani. We’ve asked them to swallow those grievances or accept that the ex-Narthani among us were not responsible.

  “No . . . this will be what we could call a ‘show’ trial. One that establishes precedents for the future. It has to be clear to everyone that seeking vengeance against ex-Narthani is absolutely forbidden and will not be tolerated.

  “It’s also best if I am involved, which means being one of the judges. That will take some of the onus away from you as the Preddi hetman and will send the message to all the provinces that all ex-Narthani living here are under the Paramount’s protection. We’re still developing a set of laws that can apply to the entire island. It’s not something that’s widely supported among the hetmen. The clans’ tradition of independence is still strong. This will be on
e case to start establishing the principle that laws apply everywhere. Eventually, the Caedellium Senate will pass such laws, but for now, I’m afraid it falls to me.”

  “If I may interject a suggestion,” said Savronel, “for a similar reasoning, Paramount, it might help Balwis if the adjudicator is also someone of long-standing reputation. The adjudicators available here in Preddi Province are capable enough, but they are all new in the position because the Narthani killed or shipped away all of the original adjudicators.”

  Yozef nodded. “I agree. Balwis, you’re the hetman. By tradition, you can select the other two judges. I assume you won’t object if I’m one of the judges, and I recommend we send to Orosz City for Halwis Stritton. He’s busy working with adjudicators from all over Caedellium and trying to come up with a common legal framework for the entire island. Although there hasn’t been a formal title, he’s widely respected . . . well, I should say the most respected adjudicator. In fact, if he presides over the trial, I might give him an official title. Chief Adjudicator Stritton.”

  In thinking long term, Yozef had already marked Stritton as a future Chief Justice of the Caedellium Supreme Court . . . or whatever title and organization it ended up being.

  Balwis looked relieved. “I’ll agree to both suggestions, Yozef. We can hold the trial as soon as Stritton gets here. If he’s in Orosz City and able, it shouldn’t take more than two or three days.”

  “All right, I’ll get a semaphore message off to Stritton. I met with him two days before I left to come here. He was in good health and mentioned the daily meetings he was having with other adjudicators. They can work without him for the sixday or so it takes for the trial. I’ll mark it as urgent and request he come with all speed. The weather is clear, so he should get the message before dark or early tomorrow. In either case, the trial can be held as soon as he arrives.”

  “I see one problem,” said Wyfor. “As the chief magistrate of Preddi Province, I would be the one presenting the facts to the judges. For something like this trial, I don’t think I’m the appropriate person. Part of my job was to prevent just what happened in this case, which means I failed.”