A Dubious Peace

by Olan Thorensen

  “How about your personal impressions? I guess that’s mainly yours, Amapunt. You and Storlini have been interacting with the Iraquinik parties for anywhere from a few sixdays to several months.”

  “Both Savronel and I have similar impressions, Paramount. We would characterize the Aro, Gympo, and Sensarsha parties as cautious, interested in learning how Caedellium prevailed over the invasion, and open to developing relationships if advantageous for them. The Ponomyna people appear to be the most compatible with us, though, of course, this is based on a small sample. However, the leader and his aides are amenable and ‘appear’ to be trustworthy . . . not that we should trust any of the parties at this point.

  “Kolinka is different. Neither Savronel nor I can point to specific facts, but both of us seem to inherently distrust them. Oh, and not just from their behavior. They give the impression of being constantly aggrieved, are poor at hiding it, and may be either unaware of the impression they give or indifferent. Savronel and I may simply be wary of them because of our unfamiliarity with their society and their party’s members. We urge you to make your own judgment and not rely on ours.”

  Yozef knew he would indeed form his own impressions, but he appreciated Amapunt’s attitude.

  You know, he thought, this cabinet I plan to form . . . Amapunt might be a candidate for a Secretary of State or whatever title the role ends up having. His being an ex-Narthani will raise hackles, but maybe he will be accepted if he’s dealing with external contacts and not involved with internal Caedellium matters.

  “You’ll be making your own evaluations of the different men, Paramount,” said Amapunt, “but we recommend you pay close attention to Uzman Gangala of the Ponomyna delegation. He’s the third-in-line son of Dhupa Gangala, the Arklum of Ponomyna. The Arklum position is somewhere between Caedellium’s historic hetmen and the Landolin kings. Significant but not absolute authority. The son, Uzman, is intelligent and seems genuinely interested in learning more about Caedellium and how it might help in the war against Narthon. A few other representatives evidenced some interest. We’re not sure what many of the others expect from their presence here.”

  Yozef asked questions and listened to answers for the next hour. He spent the rest of the morning studying the written report prepared by Amapunt and Isla, followed by a light mid-day meal. He didn’t want to feel bloated or drowsy during the afternoon when meetings began, starting with the other Landolin parties. It was a long afternoon. The meetings were intense. He cut the meetings off at sundown, knowing the following day would be more of the same. He needed time to rest.

  The next day, he finished with the Landoliners by mid-morning and moved immediately on to the Iraquiniks. By the end, Yozef was spent from talking, listening, arguing, cajoling, and finally coming to what he thought was a reasonable start to initiating economic and political associations with the central and northern Landolin kingdoms. He was less optimistic about the Iraquiniks, although he came away from the Ponomyna meeting with the beginnings of formal agreements, as he had discussed with Rhanjur Gaya. By late afternoon of the second day of meetings with ambassadors, he felt he’d done his duty and needed a serious break. He knew precisely what would suffice.

  CHAPTER 12

  SNARLING GRAEKO

  Yozef invited Mark to the Snarling Graeko, thinking to relax the man. His fellow American seemed stiff, whether from his innate personality or from being among people he didn’t know. Yozef wasn’t sure. He thought the evening might loosen the man up.

  The Preddi City Snarling Graeko would be more crowded in a few hours. Most citizens were still at work when Yozef, Carnigan, Balwis, Wyfor, Savronel, Heather, and Mark sat at two corner tables pushed together. Yozef’s throat was dry from talking, but his mind whirled. When he had gone into the meeting with Gaya, his goal was to placate the Munjorian without offending him. He expected entreaties for help against the Narthani. He hadn’t expected that ideas would keep popping into his head the more they talked. He had so many projects languishing for lack of workers that he got excited at the potential for obtaining immigrants.

  The tables’ seven occupants were on their first or second stein of beer when Yozef finished sharing some results from meeting with the representatives.

  “I’m sure the other hetmen will appreciate your developing major markets for their meat and wheat,” said Balwis, “but it leaves Preddi out. And yes, I understand that’s just the way it is. We can’t afford to export too many more animals when we’re trying to build up our herds, and the wheat farmers are probably at least another full season away from being fully operational.”

  “I may be able to help with that,” said Yozef. “The other clans have already donated animals to Preddi, but if the markets to Landolin and Iraquinik develop as much as they might, I think I can lean on the hetmen for further donations. They would hardly be able to claim hardship if they’re profiting handsomely off the new trade.”

  Savronel’s nose scrunched upward as if smelling something odd. “But wouldn’t Preddi just be selling the animals if we’ve already restricted how many of our own we allow to be exported?”

  Yozef smiled. “Yes, but to avoid Preddi being left behind, the other provinces need to contribute. It will go down easier if they contribute animals, which they have plenty of, rather than gold from their treasuries.”

  “But what about your proposal to Gaya that some of the payment be craftsmen moving permanently to Caedellium?” asked Wyfor. “I assume you intend something similar with the other realms. How are the clans going to react? We already have problems with the ex-slaves and ex-Narthani here in Preddi City being accepted. Now you’re talking about adding Landoliners and Iraquiniks.”

  Yozef took a quaff from his stein. “I know it’s a problem. Most of the ex-slaves had no control over their status, and too many Caedelli still look down upon them. It will take time for everyone to accept they’re just like anyone else. Rhaedri Brison tells me the abbots throughout Caedellium are including homilies in Godsday services to foster their congregations’ understanding that but for God’s mercy, they might’ve had the same fate. Of course, it’s harder with the ex-Narthani, but the abbots are working on that, too.

  “As for a new wave of immigrants, we’ll start with Munjor. If it works out, we’ll worry about similar arrangements with the other Landolin kingdoms and Iraquinik. We’ll have to go slower than I’d like and be sure the new people are integrated into Caedelli society. We’ll have to prevent them from settling into enclaves. That will force them to interact with the native Caedelli. Unfortunately, we may not use their skills the most efficiently, but if we spread them out through all the clans, it will be better for everyone in the long term.”

  “What do you expect all the new craftsman to be doing?” queried Wyfor, who then noticed Balwis’s sneer.

  ”You’re right,” Wyfor said to the hetman. “This is Yozef Kolsko we’re talking about. He’s always got plans no one else understands.”

  Carnigan had been silent as Yozef recounted his meetings. That condition ended with a booming laugh and a large fist hitting the top of the table. “What makes you think even he understands some of his projects? I’ve heard him mumbling to himself when he’s pretending to listen to someone whispering in his ear. He was actually saying that he didn’t have any idea what to do next.”

  “Don’t I know it?” said Balwis. “The first time I met Yozef, he was trying to get information out of some captured Eywellese and Narthani. Everyone else just wanted to cut their throats and bury them. Many months later, I overheard him tell Maera that he didn’t have any idea how to get the men to talk, but he’d seen enough questioning on ‘television’ to give it a try. Naturally, I had no idea what this television was, but neither did Maera, and Yozef quickly changed the subject.”

  Mark smiled and Heather coughed hard, a bit of beer finding the wrong channel.

  Yozef retorted to Balwis that he had gotten useful information in the incident, and there were recent examples
of Balwis working well with ex-Narthani, compared to his original opinion that they should all simply be killed.

  “Of course, I admit that Balwis is proving to be an inspiration for all Caedelli.”

  Yozef paused in speaking, but the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes alerted those listeners most familiar with him that more was to follow. Several of the men wore anticipatory grins and leaned forward slightly in unison.

  “Now, whenever a young Caedelli is growing up and thinking about the future, he can see it is unlimited because if someone like Balwis could become a hetman, then anyone could.”

  Carnigan repeated his laugh and fist pounding, but this time he used the other hand to slap Balwis on the back and drive the hetman’s stomach against the edge of the table. Yozef had remembered past occurrences and braced himself—just in case. Carnigan’s had a long reach. Balwis had forgotten.

  Mark watched with interest the interplay among the other men. He hadn’t known what to expect before meeting Yozef Kolsko. The stories about a man who’d arrived naked on a beach and rose to lead the island in the successful battle against the Narthani didn’t mesh with the image he had of the young man sitting in the window seat on United Flight 4382.

  Despite having been in Preddi City for fewer than two sixdays, Mark had seen the level of respect given to Kolsko. When he was in public, passersby waved, bowed, and spoke out in greeting as if he were a well-regarded neighbor and not the people’s ruler. Mark hadn’t interacted with many men in leadership positions since arriving on Anyar, but on the few occasions here and many more on Earth, he saw more of a social distance maintained around the leader. Sometimes it inferred a respectful distance, but often it was a separation due to awkwardness or even fear.

  The other five men interacted during a second round of beer—a third or fourth round for the big redhead named Carnigan Puvey. This was an association of friends, at least for Kolsko and the three Caedelli. Storlini, the ex-Narthani, was an outlier—respected and perhaps liked, but not quite a friend of the others. Mark couldn’t tell the reason. Perhaps it was Storlini’s personality, his history, or that the other four had fought together. Mark knew that many men believed that shared danger forged unique bonds, even between men who otherwise would be incompatible. He had heard the stories while at the Naval Academy and during his short active service, but he never felt such bonds with other men. Certainly not on Earth where, upon recollection, the men he referred to as his friends were closer to acquaintances. On Anyar, the examples were few. There were people he liked, some of whom might’ve been friends at the time or if they had had more of a future together.

  He felt a pang because he couldn’t point to having a relaxed relationship with anyone in his life such as Yozef had with these men. Perhaps a friendship could have developed with Gulgit, the Rustalian who helped him get from the port in western Rumspas to Iskadon in Sulako. They had traveled and fought together, and Mark owed the man. In retrospect, Mark recognized his sadness at knowing he would never see Gulgit again.

  A strange case was the Madyrna man with the long, unpronounceable name that Mark had shortened to Rocky. He had not known the man long, starting with the first destrex hunt. They were the only two men to fight and survive the attack by the nightmare creature. Then they sweated and strained together preparing the animal’s hide, washed the blood and offal from their bodies in a cold stream, and later shared steins several times in Nurburt. After that, he had never seen the man again and often wondered what happened to him. Yet for some reason, he frequently thought about Rocky—wondering where he was, imagining Rocky’s life, and several times when wishing for a colleague during a fight.

  Chants of, “Story, story, story!” interrupted Mark’s reflections, and he looked up from staring into his stein. Several men stood around their table, and more were rising to come over. Within seconds, the other men at their table joined in.

  Balwis noticed Mark’s perplexed expression.

  “When we were in Abersford, Yozef had quite a reputation for telling stories. His reputation spread, but the war and being Paramount have meant it now only happens occasionally. Looks like tonight is going to be one of those occasions.”

  Yozef had first waved off the requests, but as the demand grew, he finally conceded and called out, “All right, all right. But just one story.”

  He lowered his voice. “One disadvantage of having Mark and Heather here is they may already have heard my stories.”

  “Well . . . maybe they remember some you don’t know,” said Wyfor.

  Mark shook his head and grinned. “I’ll leave it to Yozef to represent stories from Amerika. I’m anxious to hear which one he tells tonight.”

  Heather shook her head and sipped her stein. She was well behind the men, her stein still two-thirds full.

  Yozef put his right hand on the tabletop, palm down, fingers arched and pointing toward Mark. Slowly, the middle finger rose about an inch. Mark wasn’t sure, but he’d bet the Caedelli didn’t use the finger-pointed-up gesture.

  “Okay. This man lived in Preddi City. I won’t mention his name. One day his wife looks in a mirror and shakes her head. She says to her husband, ‘I think I look old, fat, and ugly. Please, dear, tell me something good about myself.’

  “‘Well,’ said the husband, ‘your eyesight is great.’”

  The crowd surrounding the table broke into laughter.

  “As you can imagine, he didn’t sleep in the same bed as the wife for almost a month. She finally relented, but not until saying, ‘I was a fool when I married you.’

  “In response, the husband said, ‘Yes, but I was in love and didn’t notice.’ Medicants believe the husband will eventually recover.”

  The second wave of laughter had the attention of everyone in the hall, but only the nearest patrons had heard all of the story—a deficit corrected when it was relayed by those within hearing.

  “I think you’re out of practice, Yozef,” said Balwis. “I remember better stories.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” said Wyfor, “he gets grumpier the longer he’s hetman.”

  Balwis’s face darkened and his lips pursed.

  He’s remembering the trial and execution, thought Yozef. I don’t blame him. I hope to God I never have to judge another death penalty case.

  He tried to think of another story. Mark leaned over and whispered, “The one about the man bringing money owed and the wife answering the doorbell?”

  Yozef shook his head.

  “You know, dropping the towel.”

  Yozef now remembered, but it was another case of the new arrivals forgetting not to use English.

  “And then there was this story,” said Yozef.

  His audience turned again to the table, supplemented by more patrons crowding in. A few stood on chairs and looked over the others’ heads. Yozef spoke louder this time.

  “Another man and his wife lived in Ponth,” said Yozef, referring to the town in northern Preddi. “One day, the husband was working behind the house. There was a knock on their front door. The wife had been bathing, so she got up, quickly wiped off most of the water, pulled a blanket around herself, and went to open the door. There stood a neighbor man named Edee Murfee.”

  Mark shook his head and grinned. Heather groaned.

  “Well . . . the wife stood there wondering what Edee wanted, but he just stared at her for several seconds.

  “Then he said. ‘I’ll give you a fifty-krun gold coin if you will drop the blanket.’

  “As you can imagine, this startled the wife. She started to upbraid the man but then got to thinking. Their children needed new clothes, and there was a dress with new colors she had seen in a shop. Shrugging her shoulders, she dropped the blanket. Edee stared for almost a minute, then, without speaking, handed her a fifty-krun gold coin and left.

  “The wife heard her husband enter the back of the house, so she hurriedly wrapped the blanket back around herself.

  “The husband called out, ‘Was t
hat someone at the door?’

  “At first, she wasn’t sure what to say and how she would explain the gold coin. Then she decided that the husband hadn’t seen what she had done, so she simply said, ‘Oh, just Edee from next door.’”

  “The husband walked into the room and said, ‘Great! He said he would come today and pay back the fifty krun I loaned him.’”

  Yozef couldn’t tell whether the second story was considered better than the first or if the louder response was only because most patrons heard the story at the same time.

  The gathering over beers lasted another hour before Wyfor went home to his wife, Teena; Balwis to Ceinwyn; and Savronel to Mertra after he guided Heather to the villa. Mark wanted to do the same, but he was surprisingly reluctant to leave as long as Kolsko and Puvey remained.

  “One more round?” proposed Mark, partly to hide his reluctance.

  Yozef stared into his stein. “I think I’ve had enou—”

  “At least one more,” bellowed Carnigan as he waved for a server.

  “That’s it for me after this next one,” said Yozef, his eyelids sagging. “I’m afraid there’re meetings with merchants tomorrow morning. I don’t want to fall asleep at the table.”

  “I assume Savronel is primed,” said Carnigan. “What’s the signal this time?”

  “I’ll scratch my nose.”

  Carnigan noticed Mark’s raised eyebrow. “When he’s at meetings he expects to be boring, or he wants them to end and doesn’t have a graceful exit, someone like Savronel will give a reason why the Paramount is needed elsewhere.”

  Carnigan returned to Yozef. “What’s the excuse this time?”

  “Nothing specific. That’s the advantage of having Savronel at the meeting. He can come up with a plausible reason I have to be someplace else, all depending on who I’m meeting with.”

  Carnigan had yet to get the attention of a server, so he rose to find one.