Tales of Anyar

by Olan Thorensen

  He hadn’t fixated on the likely candidates, although he favored Shullick, the capital of Swavebroke Province, and Adris City, capital of Adris Province, two of the cities destroyed by the Narthani. Rebuilding was underway, but to create major trading harbors, it would be easier starting from scratch than modifying existing facilities. In addition, it would be a major boost for two clans that were among those who’d suffered the worst from the Narthani. It also wouldn’t hurt that Yozef could, with a dose of guilt, help engender a sense of obligation in the two clans when the paramount facilitated a major boost to their clans’ economy.

  He’d been hesitant about Adris City because it sat within the Gulf of Normot and could be reached only by ships navigating carefully through the Normot Gap in the treacherous line of rocks and shoals traversing the gulf’s entrance. On reflection and after talking with Reimo Kivalian and several Fuomi warship captains, he decided that having a port almost impregnable from sea assault had its advantages. He’d sketched out widening the Gap another hundred yards. Caedellium could produce any amount of black powder needed by using the immense bird and murvor guano deposits. Floating forts flanking the Gap would outgun any Anyar warship attempting to enter the gulf.

  He hadn’t shared the plans with all the hetmen to prevent competition among the coastal clans that wanted a port. And he also didn’t want to listen to gripes from clans that were left out. He didn’t imagine Balwis Preddi would complain too much if his clan no longer had the only trading port. Preddi City would likely remain the busiest port, and Balwis had enough other issues in molding together a clan of diverse members.

  Yozef had also avoided telling Eldor and Fordvak about problems with the train and heavy industry infrastructure being planned. The trains would begin with horses pulling cars on wooden rails, then on rails with iron caps once steel mills were functioning, and finally on all-iron rails when steel production was sufficient. He also planned to replace horses with steam engines, allowing heavier cars and longer trains.

  Unfortunately, the steam power project ran far behind his optimistic estimates. In his naiveté, Yozef had assumed the Fuomi, with their far greater infrastructure and industry, would work out the details. But for whatever reason, it hadn’t happened. He had declined entreaties to visit Fuomon himself, and although he didn’t believe Caedellium had the tools for a full-scale steam engine development project, he had set in motion a scaled-down version to develop a small steam-powered train, such as used in children’s amusement parks on Earth.

  After an internal debate, he had recommended to Saisannin that key personnel of the Fuomon steam engine project come to Caedellium to work with the Caedelli team. She had eagerly agreed, and the new Fuomi were expected to arrive in two to three months. Yozef felt only slightly guilty when he informed the Caedelli workers of the coming of the Fuomi steam project members and hinted they were coming to speed up the Caedellium project. Muttering and angry looks were followed by the Caedelli workers’ determination to progress as much as possible before interlopers arrived.

  More encouraging was the shop working on a telegraph. Despite Yozef giving Jaako Rintala, the Fuomi commander during first contact with the clans, as much as he could remember about the telegraph, the Fuomi had become frustrated with progress in Fuomon and had shipped their entire development staff to Caedellium. Their stated rationale was that Yozef might remember details he had left out or would have suggestions if the workers had ready access to him. Although Yozef publicly accepted their explanation, he confided to Maera that he suspected it was a ploy to keep him involved with Fuomon. He had the Fuomi staff watched, also suspecting one or more to be intelligence agents.

  Whatever their reason for coming to Caedellium, it pleased Yozef that the development staff, Fuomi and Caedelli, had made significant progress. The latest effort had pushed the telegraph range to ten miles. Still lacking was the electro/mechanical relay to reamplify signals that weakened with transmission distance. Yozef had no advice to give on the relays, though he was optimistic enough to direct building infrastructure for an Orosz City to Preddi City line.

  His frustration with steam and other projects emphasized Yozef’s limitation in practical mechanical applications. He couldn’t wish he had been an engineer because his knowledge of chemistry was the foundation of everything he had accomplished. Yet “Oh, to have a real engineer,” was a refrain he had whispered, muttered, or yelled in English more than once.

  ***

  “What do you think, Yozef?” said a voice to his right.

  “Huh?”

  “I wonder if you might consider Fordvak for your dork designation, Yozef. I know he’s only the Vandinke heir, but—”

  Yozef cut him off. “No, Dork Eldor, this is an honorific I prefer to use only with you.”

  Sorry, Eldor, but only you deserve to be recognized as a dork. Pompous shit would also be appropriate, but it’s two words, and I’ve already committed to dork .

  A middle-aged woman delivered plates of meat in aromatic sauce surrounded by things similar-looking to small mushrooms and pearl onions. Yozef quit talking for a moment, cut off a moderate-size piece, and transferred it to his mouth. Flavors rocketed over his tongue and palate.

  “Balmoth!” said Yozef. “You can’t miss it. Did you get it from Hewell Province?”

  “Hewell?” asked Eldor. “No. I shot the beast myself a year ago and had the meat frozen in an ice cave. This was a fair-size one. I got about eight thousand pounds of prime meat, so that should last my family many years.”

  “So, you have balmoths in Vandinke. I thought the only ones on Caedellium were in Hewell Province,” said Yozef.

  “Vandinke and Hewell are the only two places left,” answered Eldor. “Histories say they were originally all over the island, but now they’re only in two provinces. Too bad, since their meat is the best. I’ll miss them once they’re all gone.”

  Ever since Yozef had seen the huge mammal while traveling through Hewell Province, the mystery of the balmoth had eaten at his subconscious. At first, he had thought there were two options: either they were a descendant of the extinct paracertheriums of Earth’s Miocene Epoch about twenty-three million years ago, or it was an amazing example of parallel evolution on Earth and Anyar. The latter option seemed less likely when he saw the Munjor flag of the Landoliner Rhanjur Gaya prominently displaying an animal that resembled an entelodont, an apex predator of Earth’s same Miocene Epoch. Before he saw the balmoths, he’d originally thought humans and all terrestrial animals and plants found on Anyar had resulted from a transplantation about five thousand years ago. Although the Narthani and their aftermath had consumed his attention, he’d kept an eye out for additional out-of-place animals but had not spotted other examples.

  He should have thought about this more after seeing the balmoths in Hewell. If these creatures really were from Earth, it would be a shame to let them go extinct a second time. The flavor was exceptional, and the animals would be considered a source of prime meat on either planet.

  “How many do you think are left in both provinces?” asked Yozef.

  “Maybe thirty or forty here and about that many in Hewell, I assume. I’ve declared them property of the hetman here in Vandinke, so I can enjoy them at least during my lifetime and possibly Fordvak’s before they’re gone. I don’t know about Hewell.”

  Yozef took another bite and chewed slowly, letting the flavors bathe his taste buds. “A shame if all balmoths were gone, Dork Eldor. In fact, there may be an opportunity here for some significant coin if you ranched them like cattle or horses. Of course, the numbers would have to increase to make it practical.”

  Yozef stared off into space as he thought. “In fact, it comes to me that not only could you sell the meat here on Caedellium, but I know a way to keep the meat frozen for shipment elsewhere on Anyar. Once people tasted balmoth meat, a single shipload would be worth a fortune.”

  “Uhurumpf!” came a deep voice from behind the two men’s chairs. Yozef looked aro
und to see Carnigan staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

  What’s Carnigan—? Yozef started thinking, until he realized the words he’d used. “It comes to me” had been his go-to phrase when introducing concepts and knowledge from Earth. By the time he’d realized that many Caedelli took the words to mean he was getting a message from God, it was too late to stop rumors that he was a Septarsh, one to whom God whispered. Although it had been a useful rumor when he was trying to get the clans to unite against the Narthani, he’d striven to limit using the phrase once the Narthani left.

  “Are they slow breeders?” he asked. “I mean, how often do they have young, and how fast do they grow?”

  Eldor shook his head. “The females only give birth every two or three years. However, they grow fast enough to supply my family.”

  What about every other clan member, you pompous shit? Ever occur to you to consider someone outside your family?

  “Well, Dork Eldor, you might consider halting consuming them and letting their numbers increase. It would take many years before they’d be ready for killing again for consumption, but the reward in coin could be substantial. I’ll mention this to Hetman Hewell to do the same with the balmoths in his province. It would be best if both of you conserved the animals to spread the future coin across more than one clan on Caedellium.”

  Let’s see if not wanting to be left out and the thought of another clan garnering all the potential profits has an effect.

  “Say, with increased mining and future balmoth ranching, Vandinke could become quite a wealthy province,” said Yozef. “I’m sure the clanspeople would be grateful for such a clever and future-thinking hetman.”

  I think I’m going to gag , thought Yozef.

  “So, Paramount, it comes to you that the balmoths could become quite valuable?” asked Eldor with a calculating gleam in his eyes and for the first time using the “Paramount” title with a tone in the neighborhood of respect.

  “Yes, Dork Eldor, definitely.”

  “Hmmm . . . would you like to visit the valley where the last ones live?”

  Not really, Yozef thought . They’re magnificent-looking beasts, but once you’ve seen one of the big lumps of docile flesh, you’ve seen them all. Oh, well, it was my idea, so I guess I have to suck it up a little more to be sure to save the creatures from extinction.

  “Yes, definitely, but we would need to do it tomorrow because I have to get back to Orosz City.”

  “In that case, we can combine seeing the balmoth with some hunting. You do hunt, don’t you?” The last words were overlaid with, “like any real man.”

  Yozef had drunk several steins of strong Vandinke ale, and part of his mind was hoping to wrap up the evening’s interaction with the hetman. He later rued his mouth’s escape from its normal tether.

  “Of course, Dork Eldor, I’d love to go hunting.”

  “Wonderful. As soon as we finish the meal, let me show you my collection of zarvor antlers.”

  A performance of traditional Vandinke music followed the remainder of the meal. The instruments resembled variations of bagpipes and sounded to Yozef like a chorus of housecats in heat. The only listener who seemed to share his opinion was Reimo Kivalian, who grinned and raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. The rest of the Caedelli took the sound in stride, with Carnigan tapping a foot along to a melody that Yozef remained oblivious to.

  An hour later, Eldor led the way to what resembled a hunter’s lodge section of the hetman’s estate. Mounted on the walls were scores of large antler racks, and a single painting showed the hetman standing over the body of what seemed to be a large, hairy deer. The number of points wasn’t large, but the antlers were heavy with small knobs near the base. Eldor gave a running commentary on each antler set, as they strolled down the line. Every antler rack was evidently associated with a history about the magnificence of its particular owner. The hetman assured Yozef that only a superior hunter could have shot the large deer-like animal. Yozef was not impressed after learning the hunting method used dogs and beaters to drive the frightened animal to where the hetman waited.

  Yozef hoped this was the only trophy room, and when they got to the end of it, a single set of enormous antlers dwarfed all the others. Yozef’s quick estimate gave the set at least twenty points on wide, sweeping antlers that appeared to be from a super-moose.

  “This is from the same animal?”

  “No. That’s from a forntak. No one’s ever seen a live one. Those antlers have hung on my family’s walls for as long as records show. They probably existed on Caedellium when people first arrived, but the beasts disappeared long ago. I believe they were supposed to look something like zarvors.”

  Not a moose then, but if it was deerlike, then something like an Irish elk? Another example of a transplanted animal?

  Yozef remembered reading about the animal during his youthful fascination with extinct mammals—rather than dinosaurs, as with most young boys. The animals had roamed northern climes from Europe to China during the Pleistocene Epoch to about ten thousand years ago. He recalled the theory that the outsized antlers (a rack weighed up to ninety pounds) had become a liability—a runaway mating adaption that led to the animal’s downfall when it was confronted with a climate change in vegetation or the introduction of new predators, such as humans.

  If the Irish elk went extinct ten thousand years ago, that doesn’t quite fit my current theory of two transplantations, one during the Miocene on Earth and the other about five thousand years ago. Of course, I guess an isolated population could have survived until more recently. Didn’t do them much good, if that’s the case. Got transplanted here only to die out again.

  “A hunter, huh?” said Carnigan, as they rode their horses back to their lodging that evening. “Somehow I don’t remember you ever going hunting or even mentioning having hunted. In fact, I seem to recall hearing you talk to Maera and ridiculing men who think hunting makes them more masculine.”

  Yozef grimaced, then laughed.

  “I also notice you didn’t ask exactly what you’ll be hunting tomorrow,” Carnigan added dryly.

  “I assumed it was those zarvors,” replied Yozef. “Vandinke seems to have what’s got to be the island’s biggest collection of antlers. Are they found elsewhere on Caedellium?”

  “I know they have them in Swavebroke and Pewitt, though not as many as I hear there used to be.”

  “The eastern provinces have them, too,” said Ethlore. “Mainly in the mountains and hills, but occasionally a few drift down into farm and ranch country.”

  “Well, as long as they’re not rare, I guess I can’t argue against hunting them. How do they taste?”

  “Not bad,” answered Ethlore. “The older males’ meat is tougher and needs to be pounded to tenderize. My mother makes a killer zarvor stew.”

  “Slow roasted with spices is my favorite,” said Carnigan.

  “Maybe if we have a successful hunt, we can see if Vandinke can get the meat cooked different ways, and we can share with the rest of the men,” said Yozef.

  The next morning, Eldor, Fordvak, and two Vandinke gamekeepers joined Yozef, his four guards, Kivalian, and a dragoon squad Carnigan had insisted accompany them. They rode two hours west of Herstek into forested mountains until they came to a village of several hundred inhabitants. While the hetman’s chief gamekeeper talked with the village men, Yozef couldn’t help but note the number of villagers with similar facial features.

  “Pardon, Fordvak, but many of these villagers look alike. Are there large families?”

  “Large? No, Paramount, the normal size, I believe. Many of the remoter villages in Vandinke have people who don’t move far from where they’re born. It’s common for certain villages to have taken on distinctive features.”

  “My God,” said Yozef in English. “You mean inbred like hell. If there was a crime in this place and DNA tests of evidence were available, I’ll bet half the village would crop up as suspects.”

  “Sorry, Paramount, w
hat did you say?” said Fordvak, puzzled by the strange language.

  “Oh, uh . . . just talking to myself.”

  “It’s one of the ways he wins arguments,” quipped Ethlore, to laughter by Yozef’s other men.

  “Don’t worry, Fordvak,” Yozef said, when he noticed the Vandinke heir’s shock at such familiar talk with the paramount. “I’ll punish them later.”

  “No, he won’t,” Carnigan cracked, “or we’ll tell Maera he went hunting without knowing what the game was.”

  A local man scouting for game cut off further discussion on the topic by reporting a group of zarvors four miles ahead. The hunting party rode half an hour to a small valley and waited an hour while men repaired a shooting blind. Men from the village circled to approach the zarvors from the other side and then drive them toward the blind where Yozef and Eldor waited to fire. The head gamekeeper, Fordvak, Kivalian, Carnigan, and Ethlore stood behind the two shooters, along with a village teenager carrying two baskets. The other escorts waited a hundred yards deeper into the woods.

  An hour later, they heard distant shouts and several musket shots.

  “Father has used this spot many times,” said Fordvak. “It won’t take long for the zarvors to reach this clearing. Usually, they stop in the middle to look around. That’s when you’ll have the best shots.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Fordvak whispered, “Shhh! Here they come. Their hearing is good. Once they stop in the middle of the clearing, you and Father should shoot at the same time.”

  The waiting was not uncomfortable. They sat on cushioned benches, with muskets leaning against the front of the blind, where a one-foot opening faced the clearing. The teenage boy distributed cups and wine from flagons and cookie-like sweets from a bag.

  Really roughing it here , Yozef thought. Bet Eldor is exhausted after such primitive hunting expeditions. He looked at Carnigan and shrugged. The big man rolled his eyes.