After a morning meal of French toast, Elian cleared the table and went to the kitchen to wash up, leaving Yozef and Maera alone. Yozef sat back in his chair, a calm expression on his face.
He’s decided, Maera thought. And he doesn’t seem nervous, so he probably isn’t worried about my reaction.
“Thanks for being patient, Maera. I know I’m withdrawn at times. As you well know, I’m badly conflicted about moving to Caernford. I’m happy here in Abersford. More so than ever in my life, more so than I’ve only recently realized. I think I’m afraid that if we move, I’ll lose that feeling and never get it back. I can’t say that I’ve assuaged the fear, but I believe I’m coming to terms with it.”
Maera watched him with a hopeful expression but not commenting.
“All the arguments are solid, and the fact is that everything we’re doing here in Abersford has outgrown the location. Oh, it could continue the way it has, but to expand, it needs a larger base of population and skills, things readily available in Caernford. That area is also a more central location for transportation and politics. I can’t avoid the latter factor, with the constant threat of the Narthani hanging over the island. As much as I want to sit here and enjoy our life, it’s childish of me. The reality is, we have to face the Narthani, and the we includes me. I’ve worked hard to devise weapons to improve our chances, but I have to work even harder, though it eats into time I’d prefer spending on our university idea, conferring with Wallington and Diera on science, and writing in my journals.”
“What about the university?” asked Maera. “The workers broke ground last sixday for the first building, and Cadwulf is already assembling the mathematics staff. How would it work with you and me in Caernford, since we’re supposed to lead the Chemistry and Nations departments until we identify permanent leaders? Don’t some of the same arguments for us moving also apply to the university?”
Yozef gave a rueful shake of his head. “The building will start over again in Caernford. At least, they haven’t gotten too far, and we can use the same building plans. Fortunately, only a few of the identified scholastics who’ve agreed to join have made the move, so that’s not a serious problem. As for the mathematics scholastics, if they’re like those in my homeland, I doubt they’ll care, except possibly for Cadwulf, since this is his home, and I think he has a young woman in Abersford.”
“Don’t forget about Willwin,” said Maera.
“Oh, shit. I forgot. He’s got several students.” Yozef paused. “No. I don’t see a problem. The students aren’t from Abersford, so I doubt they’ll mind. Willwin is something else. I’d prefer him to come with us, but I expect we could find a replacement.”
“I doubt that’ll be an issue,” said Maera, laughing. “All we need is a good workroom for Willwin, and he’ll be happy looking through his microscopes and experimenting with the peas.”
“Diera is more the problem,” said Yozef. “We’d planned for her to head the Department of Biology and Medicine, but not only is her family here, she’s the abbess and the head medicant at St. Sidryn’s.”
“That may solve itself long enough to get the department established,” said Maera. “Diera confided in me that she expects to spend extended time in Caernford for the next several months, possibly stretching into next year. Father asked her to help organize and train more medicants in those . . . what did you call them? . . . MASH teams, in case of future fighting against the Narthani.”
Yozef ran a hand under his beard, pursing his lips and shaking his head. “Just too many things to do, Maera. Sometimes I feel like I do nothing but run from one thing to another and never get anything finished.”
“We do what we can,” said Maera. “The Word says God only expects us to do our best.”
“Yes,” said Yozef, “but it doesn’t say how to stop worrying about the things we can’t get done even with our best.”
“God leaves that part to us and to understand that to do the best we can, we can’t dwell on negatives.”
“Easier said than done. Now, if I could just clone myself . . .”
Maera grunted and frowned. “Another new word, Yozef? Were you planning to tell me what this one means? Clone?”
“Ah . . . it means wishing there were two of yourself for when there’s too much to do. A wishful fantasy.”
“Well, wish about this,” said Maera, “and getting back to the university, will we keep the same name? The University of Abersford was appropriate, if built here, but I think we will need to change it to the University of Caernford or possibly the University of Keelan. Those names would be better to gather support from throughout the province.”
Yozef thought for a moment. “That would be the obvious decision, but I have another idea. Using your arguments, what if we call it the University of Caedellium?”
“But the university will be in Keelan and is being supported by Keelan and not the other clans,” said Maera.
“The university will help everyone on Caedellium. Naming it after the island and not a single clan will help gain the support of more clans, which would then be more likely to help support the university. There could also eventually be other departments or campuses, as they’re called, in different provinces.
“Maera, the clans must stop thinking of themselves as independent of one another. A major strength of the Narthani and a weakness of the Caedelli is unity. Even though the name we choose for the university is a minor factor, naming it after Keelan reinforces our clan’s independence, while naming it after the entire island encourages people to consider everyone on Caedellium one people.”
“I’m sorry, Yozef, but I’m skeptical. I know you think Caedellium must eventually have a single ruler, but from all I know of the history of the clans, I have difficulty seeing how it would happen. Few people think of themselves as citizens of Caedellium. If you ask what they are, they will say a Keelander or Stentese or Swavebroker. No one will say ‘Caedelli.’”
“I never said I thought it would be easy, only that it would be inevitable. Without the Narthani, it might have taken much longer. Now . . . well . . . there’s a saying from a time when my people were divided like the Caedelli and faced with an outside threat. A famous man said, ‘We shall either hang together or hang separately.’”
Thank you, Ben Franklin, for the quote. It’s one of those sayings that translates, since execution by hanging is known here.
“I know most of the mainland peoples are part of large realms,” said Maera, “but the clans are all we’ve known here on Caedellium. Does that make us backward?”
Yozef shook his head. “No, only you haven’t faced situations where survival required larger numbers of people. It’s an unavoidable progression. Larger groups tend to absorb smaller ones, so that over time, the groupings get larger and larger.”
“Well,” said Maera, “I suspect we’ll have this discussion over and over. However, I feel a need to visit our voiding house. It’s one part of childbearing I didn’t fully appreciate until now, because I seem to have to empty every hour. But I’m glad we’ve settled on the move to Caernford. That was the hard part—deciding. Everything else will take time and effort but will flow logically from the decision.”
Yozef held back laughter, as Maera made her way to the voiding house. He didn’t want to delay her, given her urgency. However, her words reminded him of something he’d recently remembered from the military writings of Clausewitz: “Everything in war is simple, but everything simple is difficult.”
He waited on the front veranda for Maera to return. He had a clear view to the ocean this morning, with the usual haze having burned off early. Gulls and murvors cruised up and down the beach, their calls and whistles combining almost as if scripted. Now, they didn’t sound as strange to him as when he’d first heard their blending.
He felt relief in having decided to move, and he noticed his lack of anxiety at the idea. Very different from the Joe Colsco of Earth, who would endlessly agonize after a decision such as this one
and its uncertain consequences. In contrast, he felt calm, having put the negatives behind him. Now his mind worked in the details to carry through on the decision. He was almost proud of himself.
CHAPTER 11: CATALYST
Sistian was surprised when an aide came to his office with Carnigan’s request for a meeting. Although he met with Carnigan at least once a month to offer the big man an opportunity to unburden himself or ask advice, it had always been a one-way meeting, with the abbot asking and Carnigan taciturn. He had never sought a meeting. Until today.
The firmness of the knock on the abbot’s door announced a large fist.
“Come on in, Carnigan,” said Sistian.
The abbot moved a pile of papers from one chair to the other, of the two facing his desk. The now empty chair was the sturdiest and less likely to collapse under the weight of Carnigan Puvey.
To the abbot’s surprise, Carnigan said, “Thank you for seeing me so soon, Abbot.” Carnigan seldom initiated any conversation.
“Of course, Carnigan. I always have time for you. What’s on your mind?”
“I would like your permission to move to St. Tomo’s Abbey in Caernford.”
Maera had primed Sistian for the possibility, and he was prepared for the proposal.
“Is it because Yozef is moving there?”
Carnigan kept eye contact with the abbot and spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words, not as if to weigh the words for the listener’s reaction, but to convey the meaning accurately.
“Yes, I suppose so. I feel I’d be more useful being near him than staying here. At St. Sidryn’s I serve a purpose, but let’s be honest, Abbot, it’s a role almost anyone could fill. Not that I think I’m above cleaning voiding vats or weeding gardens, but is that how I can best serve, being who I am?”
Sistian could not have been more surprised if Carnigan had declared he proposed to fly to Landolin. Surprised not by the proposal, but by the depth of thought behind it.
“And who do you think you are, Carnigan?” asked the abbot.
Carnigan remained silent. Sistian sensed he was gathering thoughts, not avoiding an answer. Normally patient, the abbot was doubly so with the man sitting in his office, a man who had opened up as never before. The gathering of thoughts going on in the red head facing him deserved whatever time was needed.
A minute passed. Two. Four. Then . . .
“When I came to St. Sidryn’s, I felt I didn’t deserve to be among other people. That if people knew the things I’d done, they would shun me. To be . . . safe, I guess is the right word, I assumed they didn’t want to interact with me, so I acted to keep them away. It became a habit. The more I pushed people away, the more they stayed away, and the more I grew convinced they wanted to stay away.”
Carnigan stopped speaking, as if not quite knowing what to say next.
Sistian prompted him this time.
“And now?”
“While I don’t want to push people away, I’m afraid it’s become a hard habit to break.”
“And you worry you can’t change if you stay at St. Sidryn’s?”
“No, only that it will be harder,” Carnigan said. “There’s more, Abbot. I’m useful around Yozef. Whether it’s true or not, I don’t know, but I believe he’s most relaxed when he’s around me, even with Maera, though don’t tell her I said so. Obviously, they’re husband and wife, though I think he’s very cautious about what he says around her.”
Surprised by Carnigan’s statement, Sistian asked, “Why would you think that, Carnigan?”
Puvey shrugged. “How would I know? Perhaps it just is. Maybe I don’t ask him too many questions. He needs others looking after him. Yes, he’s taken fighting lessons from Wyfor Kales, and Kales says he would be quite a dangerous person, except for lack of experience, though he still needs . . . maybe not looking after, but protection is the better word. He’s important to all of us. I’m already around often when he might need protection, as are Kales and Balwis more and more, but when he moves, he’ll still need me. It’s a gut feeling I can’t shake.”
Carnigan stared at the abbot, as if the door to his vocalizations had shut. He had stated his position and now awaited an answer.
Sistian considered the man’s words for less than a minute, long enough to confirm the conclusion he’d come to in the last few months.
“Carnigan, I see no problem with agreeing to the move. Your period of probation ends in six months, and I had already decided I would see no reason to extend it. I will write to Abbot Walkot at St. Tomo’s. I’m sure he’ll have no objection, especially after I explain the situation. He’ll have to approve transferring the probation oversight to St. Tomo’s. Although it will then ultimately be Abbot Walkot’s decision to end probation, he’ll have my strongest recommendation.”
Diera walked into the abbot’s office when she saw Carnigan leaving. “Sistian, why was Carnigan here? Unless I lost track, he wasn’t due for his monthly counseling session for another sixday.”
Sistian set down the quill he’d just picked up to write to Abbot Walkot. “He wanted to talk.”
“Carnigan? He wanted to talk?”
“Surprised me, too,” said Sistian. “Not only that he wanted to talk but how he talked. He wants to move to Caernford when Yozef and Maera do. He thinks he will be useful there as both a guard and a friend to Yozef. Although he didn’t quite frame it this way, I think he also believes it’s better for him. He sees himself opening up more to people and badly wants it to continue. He senses it’s easier when he’s around those he knows best.”
“And that’s Yozef,” stated Diera.
“Beyond a doubt. I remember when Yozef first came, and you saw him and Carnigan drinking beer together, talking and laughing like old friends, even though they couldn’t understand a word the other was saying. You speculated they might be good for each other, and you were right. Two lost souls somehow finding in each other a kindred spirit.
“I told Carnigan I would write Abbot Walkot to ask to transfer the probation to St. Tomo’s, and I will give my recommendation that the probation be ended in the minimum time in six months. I’ve sensed the changes in Carnigan, and my meeting with him confirmed it. He’s a different person, and I believe he’ll have a contented future. Whether it’s a happy one, only God can know, but at least there’s a chance.”
“Yozef is a factor, though I’m sure he didn’t know what he was doing,” said Diera.
The abbot rose and walked to the gardens window. “It’s hard to ignore that Yozef has that effect on many people. Though, as with Carnigan, I doubt any of it is intentional.”
“Like a catalyst,” said Diera.
Sistian turned to question the strange word.
Diera shrugged. “Yes, another of Yozef’s words from his homeland. As he often does, it came out spontaneously when he spoke out loud. He explained it to me as a substance that facilitates other substances to change without changing itself. I know, I didn’t understand it either. There were more words related to his ‘chemistry,’ but he lost me quickly. Once I got him back from wherever he goes when his mind’s wandering, we settled on an example, such as a person who affects others just by being present. For example, Brother Petros. Often, it seems like people are more pleasant to one another whenever Petros is around. Same with Rhaedri Brison. Although I’ve only met Brother Rhaedri once, from my impression and stories from others, it’s evident his mere presence encourages calm and rational thought. Yozef wasn’t completely happy with the example but agreed that Petros and Rhaedri might be considered catalysts.”
The abbot returned to his desk chair, placing his hands on the desktop edge, his arms straight. “So, you say we could call Yozef himself a catalyst?”
Diera sat in one of the chairs facing the desk, folding her hands in her lap, smiling at her husband. “I think it’s a reasonable analogy. Look at what’s happened with people he’s been in contact with.”
“Carnigan’s a good example,” said Sistian. “He’s bec
ome more outgoing. Several brothers and sisters have commented over the last months. He greets them, asks how they’re doing, offers help, and has even been seen playing with children several times. Plus, there’s his protective attitude toward Yozef and, unless I misread, also toward Maera. More change is evident from his coming to see me today. Not just that alone, but the reason is based on him looking to the future. I’ll even say looking forward to the future.”
“Speaking of Maera,” said Diera, “she’s always been a dear child, yet she was so serious. Now, she seems more relaxed and, yes, even more cheerful. Some of that is likely because of the coming child and filling roles she takes seriously. However, much has to be due to Yozef and how he treats her as an equal. And there are others. Denes is becoming more important to the clan, as he adopts suggestions from Yozef. There’s Willwin and microorganisms. Medicant treatments. I confess a modicum of pride, but St. Sidryn’s has become arguably the most important center of medicant treatment and training in Caedellium, all due to Yozef.”
Sistian stroked his beard and sat back in his chair. “We don’t have to look further than our own family. Consider Cadwulf. I admit I didn’t know what to make of his fascination with numbers and mathematics, I suppose because I didn’t see them as a calling in life. Now look at him! In charge of this bank Yozef established and earning good coin at it. And if that isn’t enough, he’s become well known throughout Caedellium for the mathematics he’s learned from Yozef and has expanded on. Either of those professions would be enough for any one person, and he’s succeeding at both.”
“And Selmar,” said Diera affectionately, thinking of their youngest child.
“Yes, Selmar,” said Sistian. “He was always an indifferent student, never showing interest in his studies more than was necessary to keep his teachers and us reasonably satisfied. I tried not to reveal too much frustration, but I felt he was wasting his abilities. That’s one reason I chose him as Yozef’s language tutor. I don’t know whether I had an intuition it might interest Selmar or if it was just good luck, but he became fascinated with teaching Yozef to communicate.”
Heavier Than a Mountain (Destiny's Crucible Book 3) Page 14
