“If that’s true, then Bota should already have blocked that escape route, even without the horses unloaded.”
“Here it’s different, though,” insisted Holuska. “We need to be sure the Paramount’s party can’t retreat on the western road to Grastor before you can block it.”
“I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job,” Kistek said with a grating tone, his patience wearing thin. “Your job is to help confirm Kolsko’s party is on schedule.”
Kistak looked at the latest horses just unloaded. “Even the horses in the best shape need time to recover. That’s why they’re being walked.”
“I thought these horses were specially chosen,” whined Holuska.
Kistek wanted to curse at their contact, but the man had a point. They had chosen these horses as the best available: young, strong, in top condition. What they hadn’t counted on were the effects of a longer and more difficult sea voyage than anticipated. Besides being short of horses for all the men to ride singly, they had to apportion the horses according to their condition and specific tasks.
A man ran toward their position atop a sand dune. Two red bands on his sleeves identified him as a leader. “Commander. We picked fifty horses that are strong enough now to ride if we don’t push them too hard.”
“All right, Muskez. You know what to do. Head straight north until you hit the road. According to Holuska’s information, you’ll block the road where the terrain narrows. Use your judgment but set up and wait and be sure the Caedelli can’t evade you. If necessary, dig in and hold on until the rest of us arrive. As soon as we can here, we will move on Nollagen. Keep the road blocked until a messenger comes for you to ride to Nollagen. If everything works out, it should be just to reboard. Otherwise, it would be rejoining the main party for whatever is necessary.”
Kistek turned to Holuska. “I had to be sure the Grastor road was blocked. With Muskez off for that, the rest of us will push on to Nollagen. We’ll have to ride some horses double. All in all, we’ve maybe a hundred horses in top shape. I’ll have to judge whether we stay grouped, or I send men with the best horses forward, the rest following as they can. We won’t push the horses. We want them as fresh as possible under these conditions . . . just in case. I’ll send a few scouts out to keep a distant eye for Kolsko’s party to confirm their whereabouts. However, as much as I’ve cursed, we’ve still time to be sure Kolsko is either in Nollagen or nearby before we close with them.”
Stiltern to Nollagen
When Yozef opened his eyes the next morning, Maera lay next to him, eyes wide open, indicating she had roused some time earlier.
“I was wondering if the noise would wake you. It sure did me.”
Then it hit him. A low rumble and a faint tremble of the mat on which they slept.
“You know me. I like rain and wind sounds when I sleep.”
She snuggled closer against his back. “Oh, I do remember on our honeymoon to your small house away from Abersford. One night it stormed enough to keep me awake. I pretended to be asleep when you went out to the veranda. I wonder what kind of man liked to experience such weather . . . all the rain, thunder, lightning, and wind. I still had doubts about you. But listen. That has to be Stiltern Fall, but it didn’t seem as loud yesterday.”
“Might be the morning air. I don’t know how it works, but sometimes you can hear things from farther away in the morning.”
“What?” said Maera in mock astonishment. “Something that Paramount Kolsko doesn’t have an explanation for?”
“Oh, if you insist, I can give you an explanation as long as you don’t expect it to be true.”
She poked him in the ribs, then rolled over on him to deliver a quick, hard kiss.
“That’s just one of the many reasons I love you. You’re so honest, you even warn when an exaggeration might follow.”
A pang of guilt made Yozef shiver slightly. He couldn’t remember having ever actually lied to Maera, assuming that keeping his true origin a secret did not count. A lie by omission?
He was grateful that Maera diverted his ruminations.
“I wanted to talk to you about Thala. Some of what we discussed on the way from Yastern to Grastor was woman stuff, but she confided in me much more than I expected. I think she needed someone from the outside to say things she feels she can’t say to people who know her, including her family. She’s having a difficult time finding her place. Or . . . maybe I should say fitting into a place her father and Seaborn society have already imagined for her.”
Yozef rolled to face her and put an arm around her. Her bare breasts were a distraction as they pressed against his body.
“I was wondering what her story was,” said Yozef. “Going with the Seaborn men to fight at Orosz City and being a trainee medicant didn’t seem to fit Yulan’s concept of a hetman’s daughter. Oh . . . he’s not unreasonable, from what I have gathered, but he definitely has fixed ideas of people’s roles. I take it father and daughter have different ideas about her future.”
“She said they’ve had times of serious discord between them. Enough so that the medicant training was a type of truce because it physically separated them. She lived at the Brudermyn Cathedral complex when she began medicant training. It was something Yulan barely approved of, although Thala’s mother supported her daughter. Accompanying the men to the mainland to fight the Narthani was something else. She forged a letter from her father, supposedly giving her permission to go as a medicant’s assistant. It’s taken much of the time since we defeated the Narthani for Yulan and Thala to be civil to each other again. Thala believes her father has ‘given up’ on her, even if he doesn’t acknowledge it or perhaps even realize it.”
“I think I’m getting a whisper from God that a devious plan is about to be revealed.”
Maera smothered a laugh against his chest. “How is it that you invoke being a Septarsh at certain times?”
“Oh . . . who knows the ways of God?”
“Anyway . . . I’m thinking of looking for a way to bring Thala to Orosz City. She seems serious about medicant training, and Orosz City is the best place for that on Caedellium. I’m glad you got Diera to move permanently. As for Thala, I guess I don’t have a good-enough understanding of Seaborn to predict how Yulan would react if we tried to abscond with his daughter. I’ll give it some thought, but I suspect the best I’ll come up with is looking for an opening, whatever form that might take.”
When they emerged from their tent, the distant rumble was closer . . . at least, it sounded that way. Men had already finished packing up the camp and went to work on the tent as soon as they’d exited.
“Come and eat,” Carnigan called from within a group sitting around a fire. Thala jumped to her feet to ladle porridge from a kettle onto wooden plates. She scooped a handful of berry-like objects from a bowl, then placed two steaming biscuits on top of each bowl’s contents.
“The lumera berries are a bit tart this early in their season, but they add a nice tangy flavor.”
Once Maera and Yozef sat down, Reezo handed them cups of kava and metal spoons.
“I am afraid the kava is local and is pretty bad in this part of Seaborn. Of course, don’t tell that to anyone from the Nollagen area. They’re used to it and will tell you it’s the best in the province.”
The Kolskos were the last to eat. They wolfed down the food and climbed into the carriage, which was already hitched up and in caravan position. The rumble got louder by the minute. By the time they covered the mile to the falls, people had to lean close to anyone they wanted to speak with.
A clear view of the fall appeared only when they emerged from a thick forest a hundred yards from the fall’s base. The carriage stopped, and the occupants climbed down. Yozef felt Maera grip his right arm above the elbow. He turned to look down at her. Her lips moved, and he suspected she said, “Merciful God,” but he wasn’t sure because what had been merely an increasing rumble was now a roar drowning out all competition.
Sudd
enly, a heavy mist washed over them as the wind shifted momentarily. Yozef craned his neck back to see the top of the fall. He had been to Yosemite Valley several times with his family and later with Julie, his girlfriend. Of the four major waterfalls in the valley, Yosemite Falls was the tallest at twenty-four hundred feet. Zalzar had said Stiltern was three thousand feet from top to bottom. Yozef now believed him. Whereas Yosemite Falls was two separate drops, the first covering more than two-thirds of the total, Stiltern was a single waterfall all the way to boulders at the base.
He walked over to where Zalzar stood and cupped his hands between his mouth and Zalzar’s ear.
“Does the water flow like this all year?”
The older man shook his head, said something Yozef could not make out, and then used his hands to make a funnel from his mouth to Yozef’s ear.
“Not this much water, but always some. What you’re seeing is about the maximum flow. Sometimes, when the flow is low, the water might not reach the bottom but turns into mist.”
Another momentary wave of mist washed over them. Yozef figured it wouldn’t take more than three or four more waves, and they would be soaked. He spoke again into Zalzar’s ear.
“I think we need to move farther away. Is there a place where we can still view the fall and be able to talk?”
Zalzar motioned to the carriage, and they climbed back in. Maera held her hands over her ears even while being helped in. Five minutes later, the carriage stopped, and they once more climbed out. They were about a third of a mile from the fall, now visible through a break in the forest formed from the stream flowing over rocks and around boulders.
“I did warn you,” said Zalzar at a decibel level somewhere between merely loud and a shout.
“Being warned and being prepared are not the same thing,” said Maera, smiling.
Reezo and Thala had dismounted and approached, leading their horses.
“Well, what do you think, Paramount?” asked Reezo.
“Spectacular. No question about it. However, I think this is about as close as I want to go. Both Stiltern Fall and the Yastern Valley would be major attractions for visitors if they were on the main island of Caedellium. Too bad they aren’t more accessible.”
“I wish Gwyned were here,” said Carnigan. He had joined the group along with Synton, who looked as unimpressed as he usually did about anything.
“Paramount, the proposed schedule has us staying here until mid-day to view the fall. We weren’t sure how long you would want to look,” said Zalzar.
“As amazing as Stiltern Fall is, I think we’ve seen enough,” Yozef said. “What do you think, Maera?”
“Let’s wait a little while. The sun is still low and is just about to hit the top of the fall. Let’s see what it looks like with more light directly on it.”
Half an hour later, the answer was no difference because there was no more light. Clouds had rolled in quickly from the east as the wind picked up. The sun disappeared about the time it would have illuminated the top quarter of the fall.
“Well, we’ll just be a little early getting to Nollagen,” said Yozef.
“I’ll send a rider on ahead to pass the word. Nollagen chief Feldman wants to give people time to gather to greet you when you arrive. Most of the families from nearby farms will come to the village. As you can imagine, this is a major event for these people. Who knows the future? But Deetlyn told me the people here are talking about how this is a once-in-a-lifetime event—having Paramount Yozef Kolsko visit Nollagen.”
Zalzar cleared his throat. “Uh . . . according to Deetlyn, many of the people also think it’s maybe the only chance in their lifetime see a Septarsh.”
Yozef didn’t respond. There was no point.
Once again, the caravan was on the move. The road paralleled the stream fed by Stiltern Fall. They moved through heavy forest for just over two miles before the land opened into grassland.
“The land is like this the rest of the way to Nollagen,” said Zalzar. “We just entered the land of the Milmor family’s ranch. Deetlyn says they’re relatives of his wife’s. Actually, you’ll find that almost everyone in this part of South Island is related to everyone else in some fashion. Anyway . . . the grassland will change into farms the rest of the way to Nollagen, which is in the middle of the farm country.”
Zalzar was right. After they initially traveled south with the impressive mountains to their right, the ridge to their left lowered until they turned southeast onto low grass-covered hills. When they approached a cluster of buildings, a family of five, presumably parents and three early- to late-teenage children, watched from the porch of a house a hundred yards off the road. The man rode out to meet the carriage, which stopped, along with the rest of the caravan. He did not dismount but bowed in the saddle.
“Just wave out the window, Paramount,” said Zalzar. “I’ll talk to him, and we’ll move along. Otherwise, Milmor might want to bring the rest of his family out to make introductions.”
Zalzar leaned out the window. “Greeting, Ser Milmor. I’m Urk Zalzar, adviser to Hetman Seaborn. We met once or twice before. I assume you were expecting the Paramount to pass a little later in the day.”
“I guess that was your rider we saw galloping toward Nollagen,” said Milmor. “Just in case that was wrong, I sent my oldest son to Nollagen as soon as we saw you coming. The rest of us will be following shortly. I don’t want to delay you, but I don’t know if I’ll see the Paramount this close later.”
“Oh, what the hell,” said Yozef. “We’ve plenty of time. We may not interact much in Nollagen, so let’s give the man his money’s worth.”
Yozef opened the carriage door and climbed down, then turned to help Maera. Milmor’s eyebrows shot up, and he leaped off his horse faster than someone in his fifties could normally do. When the rancher made a motion as if he were beginning some type of bow, Yozef strode quickly forward and grabbed the man’s hand to shake.
“Please to meet you, Sen Milmor. Let me introduce my wife, Maera Kolsko-Keelan.”
Maera also held out a hand, which further flustered the rancher.
“Why don’t you call your family, Ser Milmor, and introduce them to us?” said Maera.
Milmor turned, called out to the house, and the other family members came running—the mother and two children. When the caravan was ready to move on, the four Milmors beamed and waved, and the mother called out that they would see the Kolskos in Nollagen.
Zalzar shook his head. “Forgive me for saying it, Paramount, but this short stop may be the biggest story of the Paramount’s visit that the people in this region remember. The Milmors will tell this story for the rest of their lives to anyone who will listen.”
“Ah, Ser Zalzar, you’re wondering whether the Paramount had such an ulterior motive,” said Maera. “I can assure you Yozef did it without thinking. I’ll leave it to you to wonder why he did it, but this is how he always behaves.”
Yozef didn’t comment. He felt annoyed when anyone tried to analyze everything he said or did.
They had only gone another mile and were in sight of a farmhouse and fields of half-grown wheat when the officer of the Pewitt dragoons called for the carriage to stop. He addressed Synton loud enough for the carriage occupants to hear.
“A rider coming hard from behind. He’s waving and yelling. I think it’s someone from the ranch we stopped at.”
It was one of the sons from the ranch. Yozef thought he remembered the boy’s name was Rynlyn.
“Paramount! Riders coming from the south! They passed our home about a third of a mile away from the house. But no one lives in that direction. There’s no good land for farming or ranching. Father says they aren’t Caedelli!”
“Why does he think that?” shouted Zalzar.
“I don’t know. After you left, we started to follow you, my parents and sister in our wagon and me and my brother riding horses. At the top of that last hill you just crossed, I saw thirty or more riders pass our home heading toward t
he Stiltern Fall road. That’s when Father said they aren’t Caedelli.”
The cluster of people gathered around Yozef and Maera now included the four bodyguards, Zalzar, the Seaborn twins, and two dragoon leaders—Wynton from Pewitt and Oston from Seaborn.
“I don’t like it,” said Synton. “Is it likely Hetman Seaborn would have sent more escorts? You know . . . so there’s more escorts from Seaborn than Pewitt?”
“No,” insisted Zalzar. “That’s petty. Yulan Seaborn may be many things, but petty isn’t one of them. What Rynlyn says matches what I know of this region—no one lives in the direction the riders came from. So, where did they come from?”
Yozef turned to Rynlyn. “My understanding was that there are no roads or passable tracks a horse could use all the way from here to Yallvan on the west coast. Is that true?”
“Roads? No. None. Tracks are different. While it’s not easy and is slow, there are ways through the mountains if you’ve enough reason to go. However, I haven’t heard of anyone making that trip for years.”
“I think we can rule out that they used the road we took from Grastor. They would have had to leave before us because they didn’t pass us. But where else could they have come from?”
“Only the road from Nollagen around the east tip and back to Grastor,” said Zalzar, “and Feldman would have warned us if they passed near the Nollagen road. He wouldn’t want the Paramount’s escorts to react badly to surprises. And why would these riders be behind us?”
“Let me think,” said Yozef.
He stood with a faraway look, eyes slightly aimed above the eye levels of the other people.
Is this what they mean when the Paramount is thought to be receiving whispers from God? Zalzar wondered.
In fact, he was visualizing a map of the Seaborn South Island.
“We need answers,” asserted Yozef, turning to Oston. “I’m assuming the Seaborn men with you are from farther north, but they still may know more about the lay of this land than the Pewitt men do. Send two of your men back along the road we’ve been traveling on, and check for riders. Don’t go any farther than where they can hear the fall. By then, the hills are so close to the road that there’s no way to go around anyone blocking the road.
A Dubious Peace Page 50
