Heavier Than a Mountain (Destiny's Crucible Book 3)

by Olan Thorensen

  “The target at an inland capital presents a more difficult challenge. The distance from landing to the capital is too far for the team to attempt the strike the same night they land. They’ll have to come ashore several nights earlier.

  “Returning to the coast will likewise be more difficult than for coastal targets. Stealth will no longer be a concern, so they will travel as fast as possible, using the same wagons or available wagons and horses. To slow alarms going out by semaphore, once the strike is made, the team or agents will destroy one or more semaphore stations heading in the direction of withdrawal. An obvious problem is that it will take the agents most of a day to reach the extraction point, although once there, they can be taken back aboard ships even in daylight, since the navy can support any landing. The same restrictions on whether to continue will apply for the inland strike. The agents and team leaders can call off the attack if conditions make success impossible.”

  “The men, especially those carrying out the inland attacks, are fully aware of the danger?” asked Akuyun. “If things go badly, it will be best if they aren’t taken alive, even if the Caedelli are inclined to take prisoners.”

  “They know, Okan. I’ve talked with every team leader individually, to be as satisfied as I can be. They, in turn, have screened the volunteers for the most loyal and those of the strongest mettle. Realistically, it might be too much to think none will be captured, but if they are, it will be beyond their control.”

  Akuyun nodded, then looked down again at the map. “And the targets? Are they still those we’ve discussed?”

  “Yes,” said Hizer. “We’ve selected two of the eleven clans with coast capitals: Skouks and Bevans. We picked Skouks because our agent reported discord among their boyermen about going to Moreland’s aid, so there’s a chance we can sow more confusion. Also, they may be one of the more unsuspecting, since they are so far from Preddi. We would have preferred Farkesh, because our agent reports the Farkesh hetman is moving to support a united front against us, and he’s influential with the other northern clans. However, we haven’t been able to pin down his movements. Bevans was chosen because we wanted one more coastal target, and it’s located on a section of the coast we haven’t raided yet, so they shouldn’t be too alert.”

  Akuyun drummed the fingers of his left hand on the tabletop. “What about the inland target, Keelan?”

  Hizer gestured to the Caedellium map. “Arguably the most important, but also the most difficult. Of the seven inland capitals, only three are priority targets: Keelan, Orosz, and Stent. Keelan and Stent because they are two of the strongest clans, best led, and most committed to opposing us. Orosz would be another logical target, since their hetman chairs their clan hetmen meetings and tries to promote clan amity. However, our agent reported that the Orosz hetman’s residence is in the middle of Orosz City, which has formidable walls, a leftover from a distant hetman who loved building fortifications.

  “Of all the hetmen, Keelan is the most important. Both Eywell and Narthani witnesses from Moreland City confirm it was Keelan banners and presumably the hetman himself who lured Eywell into abandoning their flank screening position and trapped the Eywellese in a brilliantly performed ambush. Then it was the three allied clans, Keelan, Mittack, and Gwillamer, that carried out the attack that collapsed our right flank.

  “We still don’t have evidence to support our initial suspicion of outside advice providing the tactical sense the Caedelli shouldn’t have. Despite what seems a likely explanation, there is one argument against it—the Moreland clan sacrificed themselves as decoys to divert our attention. Given the independent nature of the clans and the reported antipathy of other clans toward Moreland, particularly the hetman, I find it difficult to believe Moreland acted deliberately.”

  “In that case, we would attribute the outcome to what?” asked Akuyun. “A confluence of errors? Chance?”

  Hizer shrugged. “I’m just stating a reservation to the outside influence theory. However, if my suspicion is correct, then it points an arrow even more so at Keelan. It was the failed Buldorian raid on a Keelan abbey that preceded the Buldorians leaving for home. We never found out why that raid ended so badly, only the short report by our local agent that it had been a disaster for the attackers.”

  “If the Keelan hetman is that important, should we consider increasing the size of the strike team for Keelan?” Akuyun inquired.

  “I’d like to,” said Zulfa. “Even doubling or tripling it, though the arguments for keeping the number at twenty still holds. More men equals more risk of detection.”

  “Stent is also important and was originally on our target list,” Hizer continued. “They’re the strongest clan in western Caedellium and influential with Pewitt and Swavebroke. Both of those clans surprised us by coming to Moreland’s aid—we think probably because of Stent. Stent also led the attack on our base camp at Parthmal. The clans got there before word arrived of our withdrawal and the warning to be alert. We were surprised that they attacked a position in Eywell territory.”

  “I believe I’m getting weary of hearing the word surprise when we reflect on our previous assumptions about the Caedelli and the outcomes of our efforts,” said Akuyun, his irritation real, stoked by his aching jaw.

  “No more than Aivacs and I,” said Hizer.

  “Unfortunately, we had to scrap plans for a strike at Stent,” said Zulfa. “He spends too much time away from his residence and is almost always surrounded by too many men.”

  Hizer sat back. “That’s the summary, Okan. Three teams to attempt to kill three hetmen. If only the Keelan team is successful, I would call it a success, though I’ll be pleased if any of the three strikes succeeds. However, even if none of the three succeeds, it will force the clans to tighten internal security and will sow confusion, giving them a sense of not knowing when and where we might strike next.”

  “Perhaps,” said Akuyun, “though our experience at Moreland City makes me cautious about predicting the clans’ responses. Still, I can’t think of a good rationale not to proceed.”

  Akuyun looked at the map once more, then pushed it back across the table to Zulfa. “All right. Go ahead with alerting the agents and training the teams. They may all be good men, but they haven’t worked together before, since they were picked from different units. We have time before we commit to this, so they’ll have some months to train together. That might seem like an excessive focus on training, but this will be a one-time operation. After the first failed attempts and now these more serious assassination tries, the islanders are bound to increase hetmen security enough to preclude more attempts.”

  Zulfa and Hizer detected the undertone of distaste from Akuyun. Their commander preferred direct combat, rather than tactics such as assassination, but both also knew he wouldn’t hesitate if it was effective in completing their mission and conserving the lives of their men.

  CHAPTER 15: OFF TO OROSZ CITY

  Yozef had been back in Caernford three days, long enough for Maera to drag him to inspect progress on the construction of their new house, spend an entire day with Filtin Fuller and other workers who had moved from Abersford to oversee projects and factories, and barely let his rear recover since he had ridden Seabiscuit on the Abersford round trip. The gentle gray gelding was still the only horse he trusted for any distance. Thankfully, the trip to Orosz City would be by two carriages, accompanied by a fifty-rider escort.

  Two carriages were necessary because Abbot Sistian Beynom had arrived from St. Sidryn’s the day before they planned to leave, which, with Culich, Luwis, Kennrick, and Yozef, would have meant five men for a carriage that normally accommodated four. Luwis could have ridden, but he would be part of a mobile Keelan clan advisory meeting during the two-and-a-half-day trip. Maera also saw that Yozef was accompanied by those he called his “three amigos” but what others called his “three shadows”: Carnigan, Wyfor Kales, and Balwis Preddi. Not that all three could be called friends of one another, though they maintained an
air of respect, and they each had personal reasons for staying close to Yozef when he traveled. Carnigan, because Yozef was a friend; Balwis, because he didn’t want to miss anything Yozef came up with; and Wyfor . . . well, no one quite knew his reasons, except both Maera and Culich had asked him to come on the trip. He’d acquiesced, to everyone’s surprise, because the wiry, sardonic man was seldom impressed by station. Carnigan thought Kales had become fond of Yozef; Yozef didn’t see it.

  On the morning when they left for Orosz City, all of the Keelan family women saw Yozef and Culich off from the manor veranda. Yozef hugged Maera tight, his hand resting softly on her bulge.

  “I’ll miss you and whoever’s in there,” he said.

  “He will be fine,” Maera stated.

  “You still insist it’s a he? Even though more daughters are born than sons?”

  Yozef still considered it a mystery why the male-to-female ratio of new births was the reverse of that on Earth, where 105 male babies were born to every 100 female.

  Maera’s laugh brought smiles from her parents saying their own goodbyes. “Of course, I am. I am Maera Kolsko-Keelan. Who is there to argue with me?”

  “Not I, assuredly. Besides missing you, I wish you were coming to the conclave, so you could educate me more on the different clans and their histories with one another.”

  “Not in this lifetime, Yozef. Women do not attend conclaves. Father pushed custom hard enough to have me at his boyermen meetings.”

  “I know, and I try not to judge, but it’s a custom that has no logical rationale. From what I hear, you’d make more of a contribution that some of the hetmen.”

  Maera planted another kiss on Yozef’s mouth, then laughed. “Thank you for that, but custom is what it is. Maybe when you rule the island, you can change the custom.”

  “It’s a promise, although I’d advise you not to plan for it.”

  “All right, you two,” called out Culich, laughing and untangling himself from his other three daughters. “The men in the family need be on their way.”

  “We’ll look for you sometime at the end of the next sixday,” said Breda. “Hopefully, the two of you will stay put for a while after that.”

  “Please, God,” prayed Yozef aloud. “Horse or carriage, I’d rather walk or stay in one place.”

  “You’re not that bad a rider,” quipped Mared, Maera’s youngest sister and an avowed defender of Yozef from any hint of criticism.

  “I’ll point out you didn’t say I’m a good rider,” said Yozef.

  “Well . . . ,” said Mared.

  “Hush, Yozef,” shushed Maera. “You’ll put Mared in an awkward position between telling the truth and worrying she’ll offend you.”

  Yozef gave the twelve-year-old a hug, then a firmer one and a kiss to Maera, and climbed in the second wagon with two of his three amigos. Carnigan would drive, and Kales would ride shotgun, a term he took to with barely hidden pleasure when Yozef explained the reference. Balwis would go on horseback, having said many times he saw no reason to ride in or on a wagon of any kind if he had a horse available. The first carriage would start with Culich and the three advisors accompanying him. The hetman stated that the arrangement of passengers would vary during the trip; one carriage could only hold four passengers inside.

  The route to Orosz City followed the same roads that Yozef had already traveled when Keelan answered Clan Moreland’s call for help against the Narthani invasion only a few short months ago, although that time 2,200 armed clansmen traveled from the three Tri-Alliance clans, along with extra mounts and scores of wagons. This time they could have moved faster, getting to Orosz City with two hard days’ push, but instead, they went at a more leisurely pace to fill most of three days and planned on arriving at dusk after spending two nights at inns.

  The second day, Yozef started riding with Culich and Sistian, the latter not having previously seen Yozef’s summary of what he could remember of military theory. Culich had given the abbot a copy the night before, and the abbot had read the three pages several times. Sistian echoed Maera’s reservations about how the other clans would receive some of the “principles.” Culich kept his opinions to himself.

  Yozef had received extensive descriptions from Maera about the history of the All-Conclaves, but he hadn’t heard firsthand experiences.

  “Culich, I know something of how these conclaves work, but could you summarize what will happen? I’d like to be aware of what’s going on.”

  “There are two different kinds of conclaves,” said Culich. “A ‘conclave’ and an ‘All-Clan Conclave.’ Each year there is an All-Clan Conclave. Every hetman is obliged to attend or to have a legitimate excuse and send a son or another highly regarded clan member in his place. No formal penalty falls on a hetman who misses too many of this type of conclave, but if decisions are made, meaning the hetmen vote, no substitute can cast a ballot.”

  “Smart,” said Yozef. Not attending means no vote or input in any discussions. No chance to convince other hetmen of your position.

  “Are votes a regular thing? And what are they usually about?”

  Culich shook his head, as he gripped the inside locked door handle when the carriage hit a bigger than average rut.

  “Sorry ’bout that,” called the driver.

  “Voting is rare,” Culich continued. “Perhaps once every five years. All the hetmen try to avoid voting, preferring to settle issues one on one or in smaller groups—sometimes with Hetman Orosz moderating, if opinions are too hot and diverse. The reason for avoiding votes is that the outcome is binding. Before the Narthani came, any issue that got 18 votes from the 21 clans required mandatory compliance. Naturally, no clan wants to be forced to do anything it disagrees with, so all try to avoid votes, in case the next vote goes against them. And, of course, being on the losing side of the vote can inflame tensions.”

  “Can a clan refuse to follow the decision?” queried Yozef.

  “Yes, though it hasn’t happened in over two hundred years. Then, there was a major border dispute between Stent and the Raslyn Clan.”

  Raslyn Clan, thought Yozef. Who’s the Raslyn Clan? There’s no such clan I’ve heard of.

  Sistian saw the puzzlement on Yozef’s face. “The Raslyn Clan doesn’t exist anymore. When the Raslyn hetmen, presumably with the support of most boyermen, refused the results of the vote, the clan was expelled, meaning they were no longer considered part of the conclave. The other clans joined and occupied the province. The Raslyners didn’t resist, except for a few who didn’t face reality. The hetman, his family out to second cousins, and the immediate families of all the boyermen were banished from Caedellium. They were given enough silver to establish themselves comfortably somewhere else on Anyar and forcibly put on a ship. The history is that the captain of the ship was told to drop them someplace where they might be able to safely live the rest of their lives but not to reveal to anyone on Caedellium where they went.”

  “Wow,” said Yozef, “that seems harsh. Couldn’t the clans have simply forced compliance?”

  Sistian shook his head. “Understand, Yozef, the conclave was only ten years old. Most of the hetmen remembered what it was like before then—constant feuding, border skirmishes, raids, and even battles with hundreds to a thousand men. Those ten years had been the most peaceful times of any of the hetmen’s lives, and they were afraid that if they let one clan ignore a conclave vote, then the entire structure would collapse. Banishing a few hundred people was an easy decision to avoid reversion to the past.”

  “I would have agreed with the decision had I been Hetman Keelan at the time,” said Culich. “The correctness of the action is attested to by the fact that no All-Clan Conclave decision has been openly challenged in the last two hundred years.

  “What we will attend for the next several days is also an All-Clan Conclave, with the same requirements, except that these can be held at any time, if half of the clans call for it. One clan makes the proposal, and the others say whether they agre
e. This time, Orosz made the call, and twelve other clans supported him. This is also rare, but not so much as expelling, and it’s only the fourth time in my life that it’s happened. Usually, it’s to deal with a single issue.”

  Yozef nodded thoughtfully, trying to imagine himself living here in those times.

  “The last call occurred when the Narthani took over Preddi,” Culich said, “and compelled the Eywell and Selfcell clans to ally themselves with Narthon. The Eywell hetman seemed eager to collaborate with the Narthani; then the Selfcell hetman, Roblyn Langor, called for a conclave. Only eight of the twenty-one clans approved. Since it wasn’t the required number, they still held a conclave but with no requirement for any clan to attend, and only fifteen sent a representative. When Langor appealed for help to resist the Narthani, no clan came to their aid, including Keelan, to my everlasting regret. I still hadn’t woken up to the threat, although by the time Selfcell was forced to ally with the Narthani I realized my mistake. Yet it was too late and Keelan too far away.”

  For the next hour, Yozef asked more questions about the conclave structure, and Sistian asked questions about On War. When questions flagged, Yozef watched the countryside.

  Twenty miles from Moreland City, they turned northeast and missed seeing the site of the battle where Yozef had picked up his second and, he hoped, last scar. When they turned right at a fork, instead of left, he felt a sense of relief at not having the opportunity to re-imagine what had happened that day.

  They climbed through a range of hills and then onto a plain higher than the river valley that ran through central Keelan Province. The plain’s soil was lighter colored and the grass sparser at the higher altitude, which Yozef estimated to be around three thousand feet. Farms appeared farther apart, with more barley than in Keelan.