“Not anymore, though we had such restrictions in the past. As I said, with no recent major outbreaks, the attention of our people and leaders has focused on the Narthani.”
“Well, that’s not a mistake we’ll make here. We need to make plans.”
Yozef turned to the Orosz hetman. “Tomis, once we have tentative plans on what to do, I’ll send reports to all the clans. Right now, it’s Balwis who will be more affected.”
“And Klyngo,” responded Tomis. “Fuomon ships go first to their Normot Bay base in Adris Province when they arrive from Fuomon. They may also have stopped in other ports during the voyage.”
“Right. Those two.”
He turned again to the entire group. “Thank you all again for coming so quickly. I don’t see an immediate emergency, but we will have to consider measures to limit the unlikely spread of any disease to Caedellium.”
When the meeting’s participants had dispersed, Yozef gestured for Mark and Heather to remain.
“That mad fever sounds an awful lot like rabies,” said Mark.
“Yeah, but I thought rabies was always spread by bites,” Heather said. “No one mentioned that. Does that mean here it’s through touch or the air?”
“I’d expect any way for saliva to get into your blood, and bites are just the easiest method. If it’s, as you say, transmitted by touch or aerosols, I can see how catastrophic it could be. That would explain the extreme measures to quarantine. Christ! It’s not like I don’t have enough to worry about.”
“Hell, none of us are doctors or epidemiologists,” said Mark. “I agree the symptoms sound like rabies. Maybe it’s a coincidence, but it could be a variety of the rabies virus that evolved once it got carried to Anyar. That’s scary. I don’t blame the people here for taking whatever drastic measures were necessary to stop the spread. Our rabies is nearly a hundred percent fatal.”
“Well . . . you’re going to do something about it, aren’t you, Yozef?” asked Heather. “This mad fever sounds awful. And the winter pitting. It might not be as bad, but it sounds like a weak form of smallpox or some related virus. And who knows what else is lurking out there.”
Oh, shit, not you, too, thought Yozef. It’s bad enough the Caedelli too often think I can solve any problem. I didn’t want to hear that from you two.
“Not much to be done,” offered Mark, to Yozef’s appreciation. “We’re in no position to consider vaccines. Maybe in a few decades of pushing technology as fast as we can, but maybe not even then. I think the best thing we could do is check at ports and plan for strict quarantines.”
“I agree,” said Yozef. “If Medicant Wisworth is correct, neither of those diseases has ever reached Caedellium. That means there’s little chance of people having any natural immunity here, in which resistance genes could have been passed on.”
“Like the Europeans did to the American natives,” said Heather, “where the diseases they brought with them devastated the original populations.”
“I think they call it ‘virgin fields,’” said Mark, who took on a thoughtful expression. “You know, Yozef, you’re going to have to establish protocols for both prevention and action in case these two diseases or any other reaches Caedellium. This may be another one of those cases you talked about, where you need a ‘cabinet’ member to handle specific areas. You need a chief medicant for the entire island. Someone with authority to override hetmen and other local officials under certain circumstances.”
“Maybe a Secretary of Health?” said Yozef. “Hmmmm. That reminds me of something. I had someone in mind to lead the biology and medical departments in the university system Maera is organizing. The woman declined, as wanting to stay where she was. I didn’t lean on her, but maybe that was a mistake. I’ll give it some thought.”
When Yozef had first been cast onto a beach near the town of Abersford in Keelan Province, Sistian and Diera Beynom were instrumental in his survival and adaptation to his new reality. Diera, as chief medicant at St. Sidryn’s Cathedral, oversaw his initial recovery and later became a friend and a fervent supporter of his medical innovations. Sistian, as the cathedral’s abbot, also became a friend, an adviser, and a conduit for Yozef’s acceptance into Abersford society. Both Beynoms were happy living in Abersford and planned to spend the rest of their lives near the small seaside town. Yozef was about to, reluctantly, change their future.
“I don’t know what to advise, Yozef,” said Maera when he apprised her of his intent. “They’re both dear friends and wonderful people. They’re happy in Abersford. Except for times during the war, they’ve mainly stayed close to their home. I tried to convince Diera to move to Caernford and then Orosz City, offering her the position of leading the Biology and Medicine Department at the University of Caedellium. She always gently declined.”
“But how hard did you try, Maera? From what you described, you were offering enticements.”
“I know what you’re saying. And no, I didn’t resort to duty. They’re my friends.”
“As I consider them, but we both have other obligations. You’re frustrated by how slow the university is developing. Part of the problem is not enough of the right leadership. I have a question. Is Diera’s decision to remain in Abersford only because of her attachment to Abersford and St. Sidryn’s, or is it more her thinking of Sistian’s wanting to stay?”
She chewed on a lock of hair before answering. “Probably both, but Sistian is likely the determining factor. If he wanted to move to Orosz City, she would regret leaving Abersford, but she would absorb herself in the university and medicant issues.”
“So, Sistian is the key.”
“Yes, but he loves St. Sidryn’s.”
“Does he love St. Sidryn’s more than his feelings for all of Caedellium?”
“I hate this,” said Maera, without answering his question or arguing further. “When are you going to talk with them?”
“Rhaedri Brison tells me Sistian is coming to Orosz City in two sixdays. The leading theophists are gathering for their version of a conclave. Evidently, a number of issues have been simmering. Abbot Parwyn says a conservative group wants to establish a uniform creed. I guess it’s been generally agreed on, but some abbots are worried about future foreign influence. I’m hoping not to get involved, but if we’re to bring in a good number of foreign craftspeople and scholastics, there are bound to be religious differences. If Rhaedri, Sistian, and the other moderate abbots can’t prevent a move to restrict religious practice, I’m afraid I’ll have to do something. As far as I’m concerned, religious freedom is nonnegotiable.
“Anyway . . . Sistian’s coming. I’d like you to write to Diera and have her come with Sistian. She was just here two months ago and wouldn’t look forward to another trip, but it will be easier to talk with them at the same time and get everything settled. While we’re waiting, I’ll ask the MIU people and Sissel to snoop around for rumors among the abbots.”
Seventeen days later, Yozef welcomed the Beynoms into his office. They had arrived the previous afternoon, were staying at the St. Wyan’s Cathedral complex, and had been hosted at Kolsko Manor the same evening. It had been a convivial gathering, joined by the Puveys, the Kaldwels, and Heathen Chen. Both Diera and Sistian were delighted by the young children and meeting more Amerikans.
Yozef regretted that today would be different.
“Let’s sit by the window,” said Yozef, gesturing toward the view south over the plain where the Battle of Orosz City had decided the island’s fate. A single section of the trench works had been set aside as a memorial. The part of the city that had extended south from the formidable old city wall had been leveled to provide clear fields of fire for the defenders. Now, the city extended farther than before, a mile toward the river running against the bluffs. Yozef thought the view reminded people of past trials and future potential. He hoped the Beynoms felt some of the same.
The abbot was not secretive, and Yozef interpreted Sistian’s expression as his not sensing something of
import was pending. Diera, however, reminded Yozef of previous times when she seemed to sense what was on his mind. He knew how he would open the meeting, having rehearsed it both aloud and to himself enough times during the last sixdays.
“We all loved to see you last night. You know how we regard you. Today, though, is different. Today I’m meeting with you not as Yozef Kolsko, a friend forever grateful for your treatment of me when I was cast on the beach near Abersford. Today I’m speaking as Paramount Hetman Kolsko in my role as representing the best interests of all the people of Caedellium.”
Sistian’s expression went from friendly relaxation to intent focus. Yozef wasn’t sure, but Diera may have sighed ever so quietly, and her shoulders lowered—whether from confirmatory relaxation or foreboding, he couldn’t tell.
“Caedellium needs both of you here in Orosz City.”
Sistian opened his mouth, but Yozef cut him off with a hand wave.
“I know what you’re going to say, Sistian. You’re perfectly happy in Abersford and St. Sidryn’s. You’re doing important work and helping the people in the Abersford district. That’s all true, but only half of the truth. I will argue that you would do more for the people of Abersford here in Orosz City. Caedellium is changing. The Caedelli people’s days of being relatively isolated from the rest of Anyar are over and will not come again. Some of the changes already happening are gradual, but others are moving fast. Your being here for meetings with theophists from all the provinces reflects some of the changes.
“I understand one issue you will discuss with the other theophists is the concept of religious freedom. I consider it a major issue. Thanks to Maera, Sissel Morgan, Balwis, and several others, I’m aware that people worshiping with other litanies is not well received everywhere . . . both among theophists and in the general population.”
“It’s just such a new idea,” protested Sistian. “Most of our people have lived all their lives experiencing only one way to worship. Oh . . . we have little differences throughout Caedellium, but the basics are the same.”
“And those little differences are never the cause of conflict?” asked Yozef.
Sistian sighed. “Arguments, yes. Hard feelings, yes. Some cases of discrimination, yes, but not the serious conflicts as happen in other realms. And I know about the problems with the ex-Narthani and ex-slaves in Preddi and other provinces. Some of them hold to different practices . . . ,” Sistian’s expression became pinched as he paused, “ . . . and even different gods or pantheons of gods than the true God we acknowledge here. I believe that time will solve the issue through a combination of newcomers changing to our practices and people becoming accustomed to different forms of worship. The theophists’ meeting will give the most traditional abbots a forum to express their concerns and let them believe they are being heard.”
“And what do you predict will be the outcome?” asked Yozef.
“There will be a declaration of tolerance. It won’t satisfy everyone, but Rhaedri Brison will support it, and he is too highly regarded for active opposition to arise. It helps that Rhaedri has issued several missives in the last year that touch on tolerance and avoiding the pride of believing in the existence of only one path to God. Even the most conservative theophists hesitate to dispute Rhaedri.”
“And what happens when he dies?” asked Yozef. “As great as people’s regard is for him, it won’t be the same. It’s easier to ignore a piece of paper than a live Septarsh.”
Sistian shifted uneasily in his chair. “That title is only speculation. Traditionally, at least a generation passes before the title is generally accepted.”
“Yes, but ‘traditionally’ there aren’t issues facing Caedellium like what’s coming. I assume you know Rhaedri’s influence might fade if he is not present to help in the coming years. And yes, we all hope he lives forever, but I would be surprised if he has more than five years remaining. He may have time to start helping Caedellium’s transition into what it will become and to establish a strong supportive theophists corps to leave behind. That will require a strong leader.”
Sistian shook his head, anticipating where Yozef was headed. “That’s not something I’m interested in.”
“I’m sorry, Sistian, but what difference does it make if you’re interested? Do you think I’m interested in being Paramount? I’d like nothing better than to return to life the way I had it in Abersford . . . working on projects and knowing almost nothing about the Narthani or the rest of Anyar. Yet here I am. Sometimes what we want is far less important than what we can do. In your case, whether you want to acknowledge it or not, you’re the logical person to take Rhaedri’s place when he’s gone.”
“Nonsense! I’m no Septarsh! Rhaedri can’t be replaced.”
“We’re not talking about your needing to be a Septarsh or replacing him. No one can. We’re talking about a theophist highly respected enough to keep theological conflicts to a minimum and help people accept that other religions will be practiced on Caedellium soil. From the reports I’ve read, although you may not be regarded anywhere near the way Rhaedri is, there are arguably no other theophists better thought of than yourself. Yes . . . three or four others are as influential, but you still stand at least slightly above them because of your history of being so close to Rhaedri.
“And there’s another factor—one that you are uniquely qualified for. There will be freedom to practice religions of choice on Caedellium as long as we have no active fomenting of discord or attempts to coerce people. I will see to that. As part of Caedellium’s development, immigrants from other realms are coming to the island. They will mainly be craftspeople, scholastics, and perhaps others who have something of value to add to our people. I plan on working to integrate them into Caedelli society and not concentrate them in enclaves. In the long term, they will become more Caedelli, but Caedelli society will inevitably change in ways we can’t predict.
“As Paramount, it is my duty to help preserve the good in Caedelli society at the same time as improving all our lives. To succeed, I will need help . . . perhaps more than I can as yet conceive of. You could be a tremendous contributor. We know each other. I believe we’re friends, at least when I’m not having to be Paramount above anything like friendship. I also believe we trust each other. That doesn’t mean we will, or should, always agree.”
Sistian had remained silent the last few minutes. Yozef had an intuition.
“But you already know all this, don’t you?”
The abbot didn’t immediately answer as he stared out the window. Yozef looked at Diera. He thought her eyes had a sheen of moisture as she watched her husband.
“And you, Diera. Can you honestly say you are doing more with your life and for the Caedelli people in Abersford?”
“I’m sorry you’re doing this, Yozef,” she said.
“I am, too.”
She looked at him to see sadness . . . and resolution.
“Having a campus of the university at Abersford is not going to work, is it?”
“I’m afraid not. I never thought it was a good idea, but we wanted you involved so much, we gave it a try. It will be hard enough establishing the University of Caedellium without dividing our effort. Amerika has a saying about the need for enough of the right people and resources to accomplish great tasks. We have to start with a single campus of the university. Later, when the university is established, we can plan smaller campuses around the island.”
He didn’t allude to “critical mass.” Anyar was many decades away from understanding the wording related to requiring enough fissionable material for a self-sustaining chain reaction.
“We need you at Orosz City, Diera. Eina Sassanian is helping Maera with the university, but she could be called back anytime to Fuomon. Maera needs you as one of the leaders, particularly for biology and medicine. Having Mark here on Caedellium is going to make more innovations possible than I thought. There are devices that medicants and hospitals will use that Mark can make or will be able to figu
re out.
“I’ll be honest. I can’t judge whether you’re the best medicant on Caedellium. I know the level of respect you have with other medicants, and I know your commitment to using new knowledge. Combining that with your history in organizing the island’s medicants during the war and your part in promoting and starting the university makes you a pivotal person going forward.”
He didn’t try to lay a guilt trip on Diera as he had Sistian. He was confident that no matter her preference for staying in Abersford, her dedication to medicine was firm.
Sistian turned back from the window. “What do you think, Diera?”
She spoke slowly. When she spoke, hints of regret merged with overtones of belief. “I think . . . when the Paramount calls us to our duty, we have no choice.”
Yozef walked home that evening, wanting time to clear his thoughts. When he announced his intention, Carnigan grunted and shook his head at Synton, who was about to complain. It was almost dark when they passed through the old part of Orosz City. Yozef gave perfunctory nods, gestures, and greetings to people they encountered, but his mind was elsewhere. The slope increased as they entered the cleft north of the city. He didn’t notice his leg muscles complaining or Synton’s mumbling.
Maera was waiting on the front veranda.
“I thought you might be walking. Morwena was on the lookout point with the telescope you gave the children. She came running down over an hour ago to say she saw the banner signaling you had left. It usually takes about fifteen minutes by horse. After half an hour, I came here to wait.”
He sat next to her on the swing.
“How did the meeting with Diera and Sistian go?”
“They will be in Orosz City by next month. Time to settle whatever affairs they can in Abersford and pack what they’ll bring.”
“But . . . how did it go?”
“How much persuasion? Not that much. I think Sistian already knew all the arguments and what I was going to say. Maybe he just needed a little push. At least, I hope so.”
A Dubious Peace Page 34
