Tales of Anyar

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Tales of Anyar Page 15

by Olan Thorensen


  “What I am trying to say is that I wish I didn’t have to go back to Narthon. Even if it meant never seeing my family or the rest of my people again, part of me would rather stay living as I am. I don’t care if I never feel true belonging with your people or have a family of my own.”

  Elac stood stunned. All his attention had been on first saving the Narthani from being killed and then later getting him to Preddi City. He knew he’d grown used to Munmar being around. At times, he wondered if it had almost developed into a friendship. Never had it occurred to him that Munmar might prefer to stay on Caedellium.

  “But Munmar, you know that can’t happen, don’t you? You’re a Narthani. Someone my people hate. I confess I like having you here, but it’s only a matter of time before someone figures out you’re not a clansman. Then we’d both be in trouble. Worse for you because there are those who would want to kill you, even if the discovery happened years from now. But trouble for me, too, for lying to everyone and hiding a Narthani.”

  “I know, Elac. It is impossible. I only tell you how I feel. If you think it is time for me to go to Preddi City, then I am ready to leave at any time.”

  “I’m sorry, Munmar, but I don’t see any other option. Let me think about how to get you to Preddi City. Naturally, I’ll go with you, in case there are questions about who you are.”

  “What do you mean, you and Munmar will travel to Preddi City?” asked a befuddled Lesca Kemescu. “Why would you do that?”

  “I’m sorry, Lesca, it’s something confidential. I’ll tell you about it later, just not right now.”

  “No, that’s not good enough, Elac. I haven’t questioned you, but don’t think I haven’t noticed you and Munmar being secretive. The two of you are up to something, and as your wife, I deserve to know what’s going on.”

  Elac sighed and sat at their main table. “Are you sure you want to know the reason, Lesca? I assure you it’s an important trip and one I am going to make. Also, if I tell you the reason, you would have to swear you won’t tell anyone else. That is not up for argument. If you broke your word, it would forever change our relationship.”

  Lesca stood near the table, startled at her husband’s declaration. She’d assumed the intended trip was something trivial that she would either accept or argue her husband out of. He had never, in their years together, implied that anything could harm their marriage. She vacillated between anger and worry. Elac, stone-faced, waited for her answer.

  And waited. Silent minutes passed while she thought.

  “All right, Elac,” she said, her voice matching her husband’s seriousness. “I swear before God I will tell no one, no matter what you tell me.”

  He reached out to her. She held his hand and let him guide her to the chair next to his. He then took her other hand, holding both firmly.

  “Lesca, Munmar is not a clansman. He’s a Narthani.”

  She stared at her husband. “What—?”

  He held her hands, as she tried to pull away. “He’s—a—Narthani, Lesca. We fought at the battle, and one of us could have killed the other. Then we were both exhausted and collapsed at the same time. Both of us were wounded, I more seriously than he. I passed out, and when I come back to consciousness, he had bound my wounds. Like I told you and the rest of the family, the medicants said if he hadn’t done that, I would have died.”

  “Merciful God, Elac! You’re serious!? A Narthani? You brought a Narthani into our home and lied to all of us? How could you do that?”

  “Listen!” Elac said, his voice rising and insistent. “He saved my life. After we won the battle, clansmen were going among the fallen Narthani and killing those still alive. Munmar would certainly have had the same fate. I couldn’t let that happen after he saved me. And the deaths, Lesca. You weren’t there. You didn’t see the rivers of blood, men screaming in agony—it was a scene beyond any of your worst nightmares. When I realized I might survive and come back to you and the children, I just wanted the killing to stop.

  “Much later, when I talked with Munmar, he told me he had some of the same feelings. It also seemed to him a form of insanity that he and the other soldiers were so far from home, fighting people they didn’t know and who had done them no harm. This was the first time it occurred to me that the individual Narthani might not be that different from us. Maybe their birthplace and their leaders were more to blame than men who had no choice.”

  “But they’re Narthani!” protested Lesca. “They’ve done terrible things. Thousands of Caedelli are dead or enslaved because of them!”

  “Yes, the Narthon nation is evil, but that doesn’t necessarily mean every Narthani is evil.”

  Lesca quit trying to extricate her hands from Elac’s. “I’m trying to understand, Elac. All this time you’ve been protecting Munmar. That’s why he didn’t speak at first and why you said no one knew where he came from.”

  Elac nodded. “He injured his neck during the battle and couldn’t speak for a while. I told those people helping our wounded that he was my simpleminded cousin and couldn’t talk because of the injury. As soon as we found some time to be alone, I started teaching him Caedelli. He’s very smart and understood what I was doing almost at once. In the months since the battle, he’s listened to people speak nothing but Caedelli, and I’ve worked to teach him as quickly as possible.”

  “And I can guess why you’re going to Preddi City. You’re trying to get him back to his people before the last Narthani ship leaves Caedellium.”

  “That’s right. We don’t have much time. If he doesn’t leave soon, he might be trapped here for the rest of his life, which could be short. It’s inevitable that the secret would come out. Despite the War Council’s and Yozef Kolsko’s directive against reprisals, someone is bound to be unable or unwilling to control himself. I feel I’ve already put our family at risk, and it’s time for him to be gone from here.”

  “That would be a relief for me,” said Lesca. “This is such a shock, it’ll take me time to think straight, but him leaving is for the best. I don’t know if I could ever act the same around him, and you’re right about danger, if he’s exposed as a Narthani. That’s what the big trial that finishes tomorrow has shown.”

  “Trial? What trial?”

  “It was talked about last Godsday at your parents’ dinner. The trial of the Farkesh man who killed a Narthani in Preddi City a month ago. My brother attended the trial and told me about it. This man from Devanyo—I don’t know his name—belonged to one of our Farkesh dragoon units that were watching the Narthani to be sure they kept the armistice. The man lost a brother in the Orosz City battle and took it upon himself to seek revenge by killing a Narthani working in crop fields outside the city walls. It was only after our men returned to Farkesh that they found out the identity of the killer. Witnesses came from Preddi, two or three of them, I don’t remember the number. The trial is being heard by Feren Bakalacs, Yozef Kolsko, and a new kind of adjudicator from Orosz City, a scholastic involved in establishing laws that apply to all clans. The verdict is supposed to be tomorrow, and people have intense feelings about the case. Many people don’t see anything wrong with killing any Narthani, which is why it’s a good idea for Munmar to be gone from here.”

  The next morning, Elac left Munmar at their work site, telling him he had an errand in the city center that would take most of the morning. Lesca didn’t know where the trial was being held, but Elac only had to follow the stream of people heading to a natural bowl a mile west of the central square. There, Elac joined what he estimated to be three to four thousand men and women. They stood on slopes surrounding the tables and chairs set up at the bottom of the bowl.

  When the main cathedral finished ringing ninth hour, a man in black-and-white livery left a large tent erected at the top of the bowl and walked down a roped-off aisle. At a table with three chairs, the man pounded his staff on a metal plate three times. The ringing echoed all around, and attendee voices subsided.

  “All present heed the just
ice of Caedellium. All present heed their roles in this proceeding. All present acknowledge the justice that protects the people.”

  From the tent exited a man dressed in green and gold. As striking as the clothing was, the man’s size impressed the most—the largest man most of the people had ever seen and almost legendary in his own right. Carnigan Puvey’s craggy, expressionless face as he perused people along the aisle, along with the battle ax he carried at port arms, left no doubt he was looking for danger. Word had spread that a Moreland clansman had attacked Paramount Kolsko in Neath. The town in southwest Moreland Province had been set up as a temporary headquarters for keeping an eye on the Narthani until the last one left Caedellium.

  The attack had failed, and the Moreland man died of wounds inflicted by both Kolsko and a guard. The Moreland regent, Abbot Abelard, had vigorously investigated the assailant, his family, and anyone who knew the man. No explanation emerged for the attack, but word spread that the paramount would be accompanied by guards wherever he went.

  When Puvey reached the table with three chairs, he nodded to the man holding the staff, who gave the metal plate a single pound. The tent opened again, and three men walked single-file from the tent down the aisle. They wore black-and-white checkered robes over other clothing. The lead man Elac recognized as Feren Bakalacs, the Farkesh hetman. The second was a middle-aged man Elac didn’t recognize. Last was Paramount Kolsko—Elac had seen him from a distance several times at Orosz City and had been in a hospital ward when word circulated about Koksko’s miraculous recovery from what had seemed to be fatal wounds.

  Last from the tent came another man dressed in green and gold. He was smaller than the first guard (although everyone was smaller than Puvey), but he also oozed danger.

  The three men seated themselves, and the two guards stood to the rear of Kolsko. The staff-wielder pounded three more times, as if to quiet the audience, though no prompting was needed. The thousands of people present strained to look and listen.

  Two men and two women appeared from somewhere and sat at tables to one side. Each took out quill, ink, and paper.

  The adjudicator rose and spoke. The natural acoustics of the bowl were such that he only had to raise his voice moderately for everyone to hear.

  “The Caedellium Tribunal is now in session. The accused will be brought before the judgment.”

  Down another aisle came a man of about thirty years. Light chains bound his hands in front of him and connected with chains on his feet, allowing him to take only small steps. Two men wearing Farkesh markings held each elbow. They stopped twenty feet from the tribunal table.

  The adjudicator rose. “Matek Noscatu, this tribunal finds you guilty of the murder of Kuran Bahmed, a fifteen-year-old Narthani living in Preddi City. Witnesses have confirmed that Bahmed was working in a field and that you walked up to him and, without provocation, stabbed him multiple times. By your own testimony, the justification for the attack was simply that Bahmed was a Narthani.

  “By order of the War Council, and as part of the armistice that stopped the fighting between the clans and the Narthani, such actions are to be considered a crime and punished as such. There being no doubt as to your guilt, this tribunal spent several hours discussing the case and will now render judgment.”

  The adjudicator briefly looked down at his notes. “We have carefully considered any mitigating factors and have been unable to agree on any that would come to your support. The victim, Kuran Bahmed, was not a member of the Narthani military or anyone who might have committed acts against any family member of yours. He was a noncombatant. His family was brought to Caedellium against their wishes, and they were assigned to be farmers in southern Preddi Province. Clan magistrates, with the assistance of Narthani officials, investigated and could find no actions by Kuran Bahmed to justify his death. In summary, he was a teenage boy with whom you had no connection and whom you apparently randomly selected to be killed. There will now be short statements by the other members of the tribunal, directed to you and everyone listening.”

  Feren Bakalacs stood. “Every member of Clan Farkesh knows of a friend or family member killed or wounded in our struggle against the Narthani. All of us, including myself, have had the urge to take revenge. We also have desired a degree of justice against those invaders who committed particular acts. Nevertheless, as your hetman, I agreed to the armistice conditions and pledged that all of my clan would abide by the peace agreement. You, Matek Noscatu, have broken the pledge I made on your behalf and, as a consequence, have placed yourself outside of the clan’s protection.

  “To the rest of the people of Farkesh, I say to you that as hard as it may be, it is time to move forward. Let us return to what was good before the Narthani came. Let us work to make the future of our clan and the entire island the best it can be for our children and grandchildren. Caedellium will be open to the rest of Anyar as it has never been, even before the Narthani came. There will also be changes in the relationships of the clans to one another. The threat of the Narthani and the strong advice of the Fuomi who aided us have convinced all the clan hetmen that as much as we have treasured clan independence, it cannot continue as before. Not if we are to stay independent of the Narthani or any other realm that might be tempted by our island. We are still discussing and arguing about a new form of organization before the clans agree to it but be assured there will be changes. Changes that we might not approve of initially but that will be essential for a safe future.”

  Bakalacs sat, and Yozef stood. “I have to agree with the other tribunal members that Matek Noscatu committed premeditated murder of a fifteen-year-old boy who had done him no harm and was not part of any direct act against a Caedelli that would in any way justify the murder. The Word warns against the poison of vengeance and urges mercy, even as it recognizes our own imperfections and that we all can give in to base instincts.

  “And what of the ex-Narthani who have chosen to stay on Caedellium? Thousands of them asked permission to stay and will remain to become part of the people of Caedellium. These men, women, and children want to be free of a Narthani society they did not choose to be part of. They have lived in tyranny, but now they have seen the life and rights that all of you possess. They want to turn their backs on Narthon and share what you have. Should we not show empathy for them and their courage in leaving the only people they have lived among, as they hope for a better life here with us?

  “These ex-Narthani have been accepted by the War Council and will become part of the reborn Clan Preddi. They deserve to feel secure that no clansperson will attempt vengeance on them or their families, something that would poison Caedellium’s future.

  “Be aware that a council of theophists from all the clans, including Rhaedri Brison, will be issuing a proclamation forbidding persecution of any ex-Narthani the War Council permits to remain on Caedellium. This will include not only direct violence but any form of intimidation. The theophists know this will be hard for many of you, and they are willing and able to counsel you on how to accept what must be.

  “Also, I ask you to consider that Matek Noscatu’s act was a direct threat to the agreement for the Narthani to leave Caedellium. He could have caused the Narthani to take retaliatory action, resulting in a cycle of violence that might have led to major conflicts between the clans and Narthani forces. Even if the victim had committed serious offenses against clanspeople, it wouldn’t have justified renewed fighting that could cost hundreds, even thousands of lives.

  “In doing what he did, he not only violated Farkesh law by disobeying an agreement made by the clan hetman, but he broke the laws of the united clans as decided by the War Council.”

  Yozef sat, and the adjudicator rose again.

  “Matek Noscatu, you are judged too violent and unreliable a man to remain on Caedellium. Hetman Farkesh and I were inclined to sentence you to be sold off-island into slavery, but Yozef Kolsko has argued that since slavery is not allowed on Caedellium, it would be unseemly to send a person t
o slavery in another land, while being proud it does not exist on Caedellium. Therefore, you will be put aboard the first available non-Narthani trading ship that comes to Caedellium once trade resumes. You will be given one month’s worth of coin for food. The captain of the ship will not tell us where you will be put ashore, and you will not return to Caedellium on pain of immediate execution without appeal.”

  The defendant slumped so much that his two guards had to hold him up to walk him out of the bowl. It was not the custom for an accused to speak once sentence had been passed.

  With Noscatu gone, the adjudicator continued. “Under normal circumstances, the accused would be required to pay a heavy fine to the family of the victim. However, the times and circumstances are such that the tribunal, after questioning the Noscatu family, finds no evidence that the rest of the family knew of Matek’s plans. Therefore, the family will not be liable for recompense. However, the armistice agreement was broken by a clansman. Therefore, the War Council will pay recompense to the Bahmud family.”

  The adjudicator gathered up the papers in front of him, stood along with Bakalacs and Yozef, and announced, “This tribunal is closed.”

  The staff-holder pounded the metal plate three times. “This Caedellium tribunal is now closed. All attendees will stand and remain until the tribunal has exited.”

  The three men in checkered black-and-white robes rose from their table and, single file, retraced their steps back to the tent at the top of the bowl. When the tent flap closed on the paramount, a single clang sounded, and people began talking as they left.

 

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