The ambassador’s lips suggested a leer. “And I’m sure the crews will be appreciative. Namaki tells me Adris City is not all that friendly of a port. The Caedelli forbid brothels and only tolerate individual whoring. Namaki says even that is becoming rarer. Something about Kolsko pressuring the hetman to find other options for so-inclined women.”
Mermi suppressed a frown. As far as he was concerned, the ambassador’s spymaster had too much authority. Whether that condition was real or imagined, no one, not even the local naval commander, was inclined to test.
“Well, I understand the tactical considerations,” said Mermi, “but it will be a shame to lose the Gulf of Normot. It’s probably the most secure safe-haven harbor I’ve ever seen. No enemy can force its way through the Normot Gap and into the gulf. Not with those mobile forts the Caedelli built.”
The admiral hesitated to pass on another piece of information, but duty was duty.
“We have another factor that leads me to want as much advance notification as possible if the move is made. An unknown number of crewmembers, and even some officers, have become more attached to the locals than I’ve seen before. I don’t know the exact number, but I’m concerned about desertions if word spreads that our navy is re-basing and likely not returning to the island.”
“That’s your affair,” Koskanin said with a sniff. He gave a peremptory hand wave and turned his attention to paperwork. “Frankly, I would have expected better control of your men. I suggest you reevaluate your officers and strengthen discipline.”
Mermi seethed but refrained from responding—he simply turned and walked out of the ambassador’s office.
Arrogant turd, he thought. At least, I don’t have to be here in Orosz City too often. I thank whatever gods there are for the many miles from here to Adris City.
CHAPTER 28
SEABORN INVITATION
Caedellium Administrative Headquarters, Orosz City
Awlina Wuthrin strolled into Yozef’s office as if it were a routine action. Which it was. Mark had made a suggestion three months previous.
***
“You say the Kloona woman runs the staff for routine matters, but you also need a chief of staff, an administrative assistant, or whatever you want to call it. You know . . . someone who can cull out people you don’t need to meet and papers you don’t need to read. This person can maybe also learn to prioritize. I get the impression you spend too much of your time deciding which things not to deal with.”
Yozef took the suggestion to Maera, and a week later, Awlina Wuthrin was waiting in the outer office when Yozef arrived.
“I’m here to help you get organized,” said the stocky woman in her late forties. Her light brown hair had streaks of gray, and her light blue eyes were the closest Yozef had seen to his own eyes since arriving on Caedellium.
“And I’m guessing Maera sent you?”
“Right. She said you need someone to help organize your workday. Something about not knowing how to tell people no when there’s no good reason for you to meet with them. She also says you’re too damn tolerant of people not working as hard as they should. I’m the solution to these problems.”
What impressed Yozef the most was not her commanding voice but the way she said the words with absolute certainty, as if her ability to do as she stated was beyond question. Nevertheless, curiosity and a reasonable need to check her qualifications prompted his further questioning.
“And why do you think you’re capable of doing this?”
Wuthrin didn’t bother suppressing a snort. “I started having children when I was seventeen. God had mercy on me, and my last child came when I was thirty-two. I guess he assumed that after thirteen children, I had done my duty, especially with one set of twins and another of triplets. Eleven of them survived and are either off with their own families or at our home and can take care of themselves. I’m originally from Hewell. My father was a scholastic and made sure all of his children were educated. I did the same with my children. Two are scholastics, three are medicants, three are still at home and haven’t made up their minds what they want to do. My husband was a registrar in Orosz before he was killed in the battle of Orosz City. I had helped him at work occasionally, and I’ve been taking his place as a registrar since he died.”
Her next snort had a distinct disdainful quality. “I think if I can handle that many children and deal with registrar applicants who don’t think a woman should have that position, I can handle any nonsense around here.”
“Uh . . . well . . . ”
Yozef trailed off, failing to come up with any other questions in the face of Wuthrin’s certainty and the assumption that Maera thought the woman could fill the role.
***
The following month had been a test of Yozef’s patience as Awlina grasped the details of the Paramount’s day and learned to understand the Paramount’s personal priorities. By the end of the second month, Yozef admitted to Maera that Awlina was working out fine. By the end of the third month, Yozef wondered how he had ever gotten along without her.
“Priority message, Yozef.” She held out a sheet of paper. “A delegation from Seaborn Province arrived in Penmawr and are on their way here to meet with you.”
Yozef took for granted two things in her words. One was the telegraph. After Mark got it working, the island’s wiring had commenced, paralleling the old semaphore lines or current and planned rail lines. Mark had then left further improvements to the telegraph development team. Improvements were implemented on a routine basis, as long as the effort justified the expense and the temporary transmission interruptions.
Yozef also took for granted that Awlina read everything before it came to him. He had been a reluctant convert to believing that her judgment and discretion trumped risking her reading communications of the highest sensitivity. He still worried occasionally, but in his own mind he figuratively “kicked the can down the road.”
He read the message:
TO: Paramount Yozef Kolsko
FROM: Ulor Baskin, Harbor Master, Penmawr Harbor
Reezo Seaborn and three others arrive Penmawr.
Claim the son of Hetman Seaborn.
Will travel to Orosz City meet Paramount.
Yozef looked up at Awlina. “What do we have about a Reezo Seaborn?”
“I sent someone to the library to check records. We’ll let you know as soon as he returns.”
As part of the headquarters complex, the Anyar version of a data system was in development. After far too many times of being unable to easily access information on clans and individuals, Yozef had mandated centralizing whatever information the clans held on their members. Most of the clans complied without question. A few hesitated to share the information or questioned its necessity, and others had little, if any, such information. The latter clans were ordered to begin collecting. Yozef settled problems with compliance by stating that “it occurred to him” that such information was necessary for every clan’s development. It was one of the catchphrases taken to mean that God was whispering to the Septarsh, a.k.a. Yozef Kolsko. He tried not to use the tactic too often, both because he felt guilty about it and because he didn’t know how long it would work.
An hour later, a man Yozef recognized but whose name he couldn’t remember entered the office with Awlina.
“Tell the Paramount what you found,” said Awlina.
“Paramount, our records for Seaborn Province are still scanty, but Reezo Seaborn is the name of the third son of Hetman Seaborn. We have no physical description of him, but he should be nineteen years old. That’s all the relevant information I could find.”
That’s about seventeen or so Earth years, Yozef thought. He must’ve been sent by his father, but why? To tell me something or ask me something? Maybe the father wanted to give his son experience on the main island? Or who knows what?
“We also received another telegram from Penmawr,” said Awlina. “The Seaborn party has left by horseback. The rail line from Penmawr
to Clitwyth had a washout. The Seaborn party plans to follow the road paralleling the rail line until the line turns north into Bultecki. From there, they’ll come straight to Orosz City. I’ve sent instructions to the line managers to provide train transportation if the party wants it once they’re past the washout. Either way, it’ll be sometime late tomorrow or the next day when they get here, barring unforeseen events.”
“Isn’t a Swavebroke scholastic working in the library now?” asked Yozef.
“Yes, a young woman named Shurla Aston,” answered Awlina. “She’s been here about a month and brought the latest batch of data from Swavebroke. The history of the eastern clans is her specialty. She’s worked out so well, the librarian is trying to keep her here longer term. She’s helped gather the little information we had on Reezo Seaborn.”
“And the Seaborn Clan is part of her studies?”
“Evidently so. You want her to put together information about Seaborn?”
“Let’s don’t waste her time by requesting a written report. Please ask her to meet me here tomorrow morning and give me an oral briefing on Seaborn. By then, I should’ve come up with some questions to ask, in addition to whatever she briefs me on.”
Two days later, an hour after midday bells, Awlina stopped in the office doorway.
“The Seaborn people arrived. As the semaphore message said, there are four of them—a young man seems to be the leader, accompanied by an older man . . . probably an adviser of some kind. The other two men looked like they might be guards. They’re covered in dust, so I directed them to where they can wash up and change clothes. Where do you want to meet them? The Paramount’s reception room has been finished for the last three sixdays, but you’ve never had an opportunity to use it.”
Yozef had not supported the idea, but Maera insisted that the Paramount needed a place to meet people of importance, and it was his first opportunity to impress. He had held firm on the size of the room, but even he admitted it made an impression. A large, highly artistic map of Caedellium covered one wall. The opposite wall displayed division flags of the defeated Narthani army at the Battle of Orosz City. Also prominently displayed were a copy of the unification agreement agreed to by the All-Clan Conclave; the formal declaration of Yozef Kolsko, Paramount Hetman, and signed by every hetman; banners of all twenty-one clans; and a battle-scarred Caedellium flag.
Yozef flatly refused to sit in an elevated chair too reminiscent of a throne. Instead, the Paramount’s chair was large and positioned behind an ornate wooden desk made from the carriages of Narthani cannon. Depending on whom the Paramount was meeting, the requisite number of chairs was brought in.
Two hours later, four freshly scrubbed and fed men were led into the reception room by Carnigan, who had been hastily recruited and re-attired appropriately. Although Yozef did not believe in excessive ostentation, it never hurt to demonstrate a bit of intimidation. Synton Ethlore and Toowin Kales stood behind Yozef’s shoulders.
Yozef suppressed a smile when the four Seaborners’ awkward movements attested to uncertainty about how to address and approach the Paramount. He sought their ease by rising and waving with one hand.
“Please, Sers, take a seat.”
A whisper passed among the four men. Reezo Seaborn took a step forward. Yozef anticipated that the youth was gathering himself for a bow but had no clue about the proper form.
“There are no bows between Caedelli clansman. We are all equal in God’s eyes.”
Yozef had finally become aware that his casual attitudes fed into the legend of Yozef Kolsko. He had given up worrying about it. He acted how he felt . . . most of the time.
“Welcome, Reezo Seaborn, son of Hetman Seaborn,” said Yozef. “I believe this may be the first time you are out of Seaborn Province.”
“Yes, Paramount. My first time. My father has made the trip several times, and my two older brothers were among the Seaborn men who fought at Orosz City.”
“And fight bravely they did in helping destroy the Narthani. Seaborn and all the other clans did themselves honor.”
Never hurts to butter up visitors, thought Yozef.
Reezo gestured to the middle-aged man standing at his side. “Let me introduce Urk Zalzar, an adviser to my father, Hetman Seaborn.”
Yozef looked closely at the other man for the first time. His impression underwent a seismic change. His initial glance at the man had only confirmed middle age. Now, he saw the strength still in a body that must have been impressive in younger years and piercing eyes undimmed by age.
Yozef wondered whether Zalzar was the real leader, and the son was along just as a formality.
“Greetings to you both, Ser Seaborn and Ser Zalzar.”
Yozef held out his right hand toward Reezo. The boy’s eyes widened, but the rest of him froze.
Zalzar elbowed Reezo, who jerked and grasped the offered hand. After the grip and a single shake, Yozef released, and the youth pulled his hand back quickly. Yozef rotated slightly to the adviser and held out his hand. Zalzar gave an almost imperceptible nod and grasped the Paramount’s right hand with his left.
“An old injury,” murmured Zalzar before speaking louder. “Thank you for the welcome, Paramount. It’s an honor for us to meet you.”
When the handshakes ended, Yozef turned again to Reezo. This gave him a brief glimpse of Zalzar’s deformed right hand poking out from under a sleeve.
“We’re pleased to have you visit Orosz City, Ser Seaborn, but is there a specific purpose for your travel?”
“Yes, Paramount,” said the youth, his tone firming as if he were getting into a prepared exposition. “I am here representing my father, Hetman Seaborn, and all members of the Seaborn Clan to invite the Paramount to attend a festival in one month. My father wishes to hold special events for the Paramount’s visit. In addition, he proposes a tour of South Island. Word has reached Seaborn that the Paramount is an admirer of God’s natural creations. Seaborn has wonders not found in any of the other clans and that, to our understanding, would rank among the wonders of all of Anyar. I mention especially Stiltern Fall and the cascading blue pools in the Yastern Valley. With the Paramount’s permission, we would encourage the Paramount to come to our capital, Brudermyn, for the festival. Then we will provide a tour south, ending in Grastor on the east coast where you could board a ship to return.”
You know, that brings up an interesting possibility, thought Yozef. I’ve never been to Seaborn Province, and it’s time to visit all the northern provinces from Pewitt to Pawell. Hell, maybe even Nyvaks. I don’t think the last time I went there to deal with Janko counts.
Almost a minute passed while he considered the new idea. As long as he was in Seaborn and had to go by ship back to the main island, he could move along the northern coast, stopping in Shullick, Devanyo, and Morstryd. The Nyvaks capital, Montron, was inland about thirty miles. He’d have to think about that one. But whether or not he stopped at Nyvaks, the ship could continue to stop at Hartreth, the Pawell capital, and Seapont in Bevans. From there, it was a quick shot through the Normot Gap and on to Adris City for a train home.
“Thank you for the invitation, Ser Seaborn. I will seriously consider it after consulting my schedule around that time. Unless there’s something I absolutely cannot reschedule, I’m inclined to accept the invitation. However, I cannot give you a firm answer at this moment. If you remain in Orosz City for a few days, it will give you time to see what’s here and give me time to check what arrangements are possible. In the meantime, I’m sure you and the rest of your party are tired from the trip. Awlina will see you to your quarters for the evening and arrange for meals. Tomorrow you can visit the rest of the city. Visit anywhere you want in the administration complex. Then I will be happy to host you in the evening, where we can talk further, and you can meet Hetman Orosz and other persons of interest.”
Kolsko Manor
“What is Reezo like?” asked Maera, pausing with a spoonful of soup.
“Young. Ernest. Youn
g . . . well, I guess I already said that. I get the impression of a nice young man. We talked for a while after I told him I would seriously consider the invitation. I guess the next single word I would use is naïve. As we talked, and then later, I showed him some of the administration complex before they were led to their quarters for the evening. Reezo was all wide-eyed and either asked questions or I got the sense he didn’t know what to ask.”
To Yozef’s other side and opposite from where Maera sat, Anarynd shifted a sleeping Odysius to her other arm. Yozef had cut her meat into bite-size pieces so that she could eat the meat with either hand, along with a mashed starchy tuber he couldn’t remember the name of and a steamed green reminiscent of bok choy.
“It doesn’t sound like you’re still deciding whether to accept the invitation, Yozef,” Anarynd remarked.
“There are several reasons why it’s a good idea. It gives me the chance to make one trip and accomplish several goals. You know . . . visiting Seaborn for the first time and getting visits to the northern provinces out of the way. It will make for a longer trip, but otherwise, it would have been two different trips.”
Maera swallowed the previously interrupted spoonful of soup. “I think I should go with you, Yozef.”
He wasn’t surprised. He’d been married to Maera long enough to make predictions.
“Maera!” exclaimed Anarynd. “If the trip begins next month, that will make your pregnancy about three months along. Then, if Yozef does the sailing around the island, that could be another several sixdays.”
“I didn’t have any serious problems with either Aeneas or Anida, and so far, everything is the same as then. Yes, I have a little nausea now . . . that’s why soup was the only thing that sounded palatable tonight. But if the pattern stays the same, that will fade in the next month. I can plan to go and always cancel if something changes by the time to leave. Anyway, I don’t have to continue with the province visits. I can come straight back here after Seaborn.”
A Dubious Peace Page 41
