Cast Under an Alien Sun (Destiny's Crucible)

by Olan Thorensen

  Sistian put a hand to his chin. “So you know about beer and winemaking. Perhaps we could find you employment in Abersford or even the district center at Clengoth.”

  “Perhaps. Although the fact that I know more about the underlying mechanisms doesn’t mean that I could make better beer or wine than your brewers or winemakers. However, I believe the basic knowledge would eventually be useful.”

  “Well,” said Sistian, “still, it might be something to explore.”

  Yozef paused . . . then said, “I suddenly realized there may be something else useful for your brewers and winemakers. I also know some of the properties in your spirits that could allow them to produce a completely new form of drink, one much more potent than either wine or beer. Do you have something like ‘ice-wine,’ where you make wine more potent by freezing it and then removing ice forming before the entire liquid turns solid?”

  Sistian nodded. “The northern clans do something as you describe. I’ve tasted it, and it’s definitely more potent. I’ve seen men get drunk after only a small amount. There’s also the stronger spirits that make one drunk even by drinking much smaller amounts. It’s one of the few pieces of new knowledge that the Narthani brought to Caedellium. A shop in Abersford produces some of this with the help of an escaped Narthani slave. I’ve tried the drink; it tastes terrible.”

  Hmm . . .Yozef pondered. Maybe some kind of early pot distillation. Interesting. Maybe my example wasn’t that good. And Narthani? I’ve heard this name before, often accompanied by curses. I should ask more about whoever they are.

  “I’m sure if I talk with the shopkeeper in Abersford, I could show him how to make a stronger drink faster, unless you think introducing a stronger drink is not good.”

  “It might not necessarily be a good thing to make stronger spirits more readily available,” the abbot said with a frown. “Some men already drink too much.”

  “Then how about another use for alcohol? As a disinfectant for your medicants?”

  “What is this ‘disinfectant?’ Another of your ‘English’ words?”

  “I’ve already seen the medicants rinse their hands and instruments with a solution of a thin acid and soap to reduce corruption. Alcohol can be used the same way and would be better sometimes than the carbolic acid. I could show you how to purify alcohol in a form pure enough for use.”

  The abbot stroked his beard. “I would have to check with Diera, but I assume she’ll be interested.”

  Yozef paused for a moment—it was another opening. “One thing I worry about is how would such knowledge be received by yourself, the other brothers and sisters, and the common people. In my country, this knowledge simply derives from our attempt to understand God’s world, but here it could be considered as having an evil source. I wouldn’t want to cause any discord among your people, and, to be honest, my own safety worries me. Would it be better for me to simply be silent?”

  The abbot sat back in his chair, his eyes narrowed toward Yozef. “Not an easy question to answer, Yozef. The Word tells us to beware of the Evil One’s temptations. In some lands of Anyar, I think your worries about safety would be well considered. Even on Caedellium, there are some of the more conservative who’d question new ideas. You may have been fortunate to have washed ashore in Keelan. I believe we’re more tolerant than many other clans, at least with more willingness to listen to new ideas. While this doesn’t mean we might not find something you say disturbing, we’d at least listen.”

  Sistian thought for a couple of minutes, stroking his beard with one hand and gazing out a window as he considered. “Here’s what I suggest for the moment, Yozef. Whenever you have a piece of this knowledge you wish to share but are worried about how it would be understood, talk to either me or Diera before anyone else. At some point, I’d bring this to the attention of the entire senior staff at the abbey for a more thorough review, though for now let us keep this among the three of us.”

  “Thank you, Abbot. I’ll do as you suggest.” Well, that should cover me for a while.

  The abbot’s expression was pensive. “Yozef, I continue to sense no evil in you, although some have wondered when you appeared on our beach so mysteriously and looking half dead. Also, though I have a sense of excitement whenever I talk with you, I can’t say exactly why this is. However, I also wonder if your coming is going to disturb our culture in ways I can’t imagine or know whether it’s good or bad. Change is good if it helps the people, yet it can lead to losing contact with the good aspects of the traditional. The Word says that God can put opportunity in front of us and won’t give us what we don’t work for. In such cases, it is up to us to seize those opportunities as part of our responsibilities to exercise free will. Time will tell.”

  Yozef smiled. “Our people have a saying that perhaps is another way to express the same thing. ‘God helps those who help themselves.’”

  Sistian laughed. “Nicely worded. I may use this one also in one of the coming Godsdays. Perhaps I should ask you for help in finding the right words for my messages.”

  He leaned forward in his chair, placing both hands on the arms as if he was about to stand. Yozef discerned the interrogation was about to end.

  “So, Yozef, let us say that you will continue to stay with us for the time being until you can find a place for yourself here with our people. In addition, we can talk further on these topics and perhaps discuss some of your ‘pieces’ of exotic knowledge before they are loosed on the people of Caedellium.”

  Signaling the end to the interview, the abbot rose from his chair. He reached out a hand Yozef clasped with his own.

  “Thank you for your advice, Abbot. I appreciate the care you’ve given me, and I’ll look forward to further discussions.”

  Yozef walked out of a side door of the cathedral with a spring in his steps.

  He thought the meeting went well. He didn’t think he’d said anything he was liable to contradict in the future, and now he had the abbot primed in case he wanted to introduce new ideas. Now the questions were, what to introduce and when?

  Chapter 10: Buldorian Mercenaries

  Musfar Adalan feigned patience as he waited for his meeting with the Narthani commander. He would have preferred to pace, though it was best to not give any indication of weakness, certainly not when dealing with Narthani. He often wondered if the day would come when the Narthani bothered to bite off the tiny, rugged, and isolated piece of Anyar where Buldor sat.

  May the Gods grant that day come well past my lifetime or someone takes them down before then. I’m at least thankful Buldor is on the Ganolar continent, instead of Melosia with the Narthani, so we have the ocean separating us.

  In any event, today was today, and there were spoils to be had, if he played the game properly.

  Adalan was also irked that the cursed Narthani required him to come to Caedellium to finalize their agreement for his and his men’s services. His seven ships had trolled waters off the Landolin continent, watching for stray merchant ships, when a Narthani sloop appeared flying parley flags. Adalan could have avoided a meeting, his ships being at least as swift as the Narthani vessel, but curiosity and his outnumbering the single Narthani led him to hear what the sloop’s captain had to say. Since Adalan spoke the Narthani tongue but didn’t read it, the Narthani captain read a letter from a Narthani commander, a General Akuyun, on the island of Caedellium. It was an invitation to raid the island under Narthani protection, but only after Adalan himself came to meet with General Akuyun, and with only one ship. A small chest holding 500 gold Narthani coins and the offer of leaving the sloop and crew as hostages persuaded Adalan to go to Caedellium. Six of Adalan’s ships now sat idle in a remote cove off the northern Landolin coast, awaiting their commander’s return. As for his flagship, Warrior’s Pride, a Narthani cutter met them as they neared Preddi City and directed them to a deserted fishing village. Once anchored, Adalan rowed ashore and rode thirty miles by horse to meet with this General Akuyun. Developing saddle sores did nothin
g to improve a sailor’s mood.

  A Narthani junior officer interrupted his reflections. “Captain, please come this way. General Akuyun is ready to meet with you.”

  Adalan followed the young officer into a medium-sized room with a rectangular table and twelve chairs, four occupied by men. At first glance, the room gave the impression of being plain, though it took only a moment for a sharp eye to see that although the room lacked adornments on the walls and the furniture was simple in design, all of the woodwork was of the highest quality. Some imported woods he recognized, others he didn’t and assumed were from the island’s trees. He could sell this room itself back on mainland realms for enough to keep a Buldorian village well supplied for a year.

  “Please sit here beside me, Captain,” said a friendly voice from a lean man in his fifties, whom Adalan took to be Akuyun. Lean in both frame and manner, if Adalan was any judge of men.

  Adalan sat at the indicated empty chair. He wondered whether the man’s acting friendly was supposed to put him at ease. While he assumed it was deliberate, it wasn’t convincing. He suspected being at ease around this one was comfortable until you crossed him, and then it would become exceedingly “uncomfortable.”

  Adalan’s assessment of the Narthani general’s initial demeanor was accurate. Akuyun had early in his career incorporated politeness into his dealings with non-Narthani. He understood and used on occasion the tried-and-true method of playing on fears, but he believed it never hurt to start off polite. He would never fully realize the tactic sometimes worked, though often had the opposite effect, with the object of his politeness waiting for the dagger or poison from a too-polite Narthani.

  Akuyun introduced the other three men at the table. The Narthani troop commander was of little relevance to Adalan, but the other two men more notable: their naval admiral, and a man they titled Assessor, who ran their intelligence service. The former was important because Adalan and his men would be sailing in Narthani-controlled waters, and the latter because Adalan knew little about this isolated island.

  “Welcome to Caedellium, Captain Adalan. I hear from Admiral Kalcan that your ship arrived in good shape, and he has arranged for your re-provisioning.”

  “Yes, thank you, General Akuyun. The Admiral’s aides have been most efficient, and we should be ready to sail again in three days after some minor repairs.”

  “You don’t feel your men need any more time ashore after the voyage here?”

  “No,” answered Adalan. “We’re sailors, and being on land or at sea is all the same to us. Besides, I need to get back to my other ships off Landolin. I’ve already been gone from them for several sixdays. Plus, you would have us restricted to that fishing village. There’s not much to do ashore, and I’d like to move quickly to bring the rest of my ships here and begin in accord with your proposal.”

  Akuyun consulted his notes. “Ah, yes, the village of Rocklyn. The original inhabitants are gone, but we’ll provide support there for your ships and men. You’re not to be seen anywhere else on Caedellium, except for the raids.” The Narthani commander looked back at Musfar. “And you’re aware of the reason for this restriction?”

  “Of course. You want to minimize the knowledge you’re supporting a Buldorian raiding party,” Adalan answered.

  Akuyun grinned, although there was no humor in it. “Correct, Captain. This is a case where we’re helping each other. There’s no need for you to know any more details of why we’ve invited you, only that you follow instructions. In return, we’ll provide information on likely lucrative targets along the Caedellium coasts and assure that no other naval force interferes with your . . . activities. Whatever booty you get from these raids is yours to keep. You’re to cause maximum damage, and you’re not to let any of your people get captured or indicate Narthani involvement.”

  Adalan nodded his understanding, though his tone was cold. “Since we’re men of honor and need to be clear with each other, while I understand the conditions we will operate under, I hope you understand we’re not here to fight your fights. I cannot waste my ships and men for your objectives. We’re here to raid vulnerable targets, not engage in warfare.”

  Akuyun wasn’t offended by the Buldorian’s statement and appreciated dealing with someone who, like himself, wanted all parties to understand the scope of their cooperation.

  Men of honor? wondered Akuyun. Yes, he supposed they both were, but within their own kind. He certainly wouldn’t trust any Buldorian enough to turn his back on them, and he doubted it would ever occur to them to trust any Narthani.

  “That’s understood, Captain. We’ll provide information on likely targets, and it’s up to you to carry out the raids. However, as you say, I don’t expect you to engage in any pitched battles, since we’ll choose targets carefully.”

  Akuyun studied the Buldorian leader as they spoke. He’d wanted this face-to-face meeting to assess who they would be employing. This Adalan fit the stereotype expected of a pirate—garish dress, braided hair, and, if his nose was being truthful, a good dose of Fuomi perfume. Akuyun was pleased. The man was imposing, taller than any of the four Narthani, with not an ounce of fat evident. Several visible scars established that he’d not gotten his position by nonviolent means, he spoke fluent Narthani, and, by Akuyun’s judgment, he was both intelligent and controlled.

  Yes, he will do quite nicely, thought Akuyun.

  For the next hour, Adalan asked questions about the conditions on Caedellium, and the four Narthani assessed their mercenary hire. When questions lagged, Akuyun looked to his subordinates. “Any other questions for Captain Adalan or comments?”

  There were none.

  “Then you believe you’ll be ready to leave in . . . as you said,” Akuyun asked the Buldorian, “three days?”

  “As I said,” confirmed Adalan, “the only reason my men might have used more time ashore was to utilize brothels, but the women you provided are servicing quite well.”

  Akuyun turned to Tuzere and raised an eyebrow.

  “We’ve given the Buldorians six Preddi women,” offered Tuzere. “My, uh, understanding is that six women per ship would suffice for the Captain’s men.”

  “And the women are from where?” Akuyun asked.

  “Younger women from that group of Preddi that tried to escape via fishing boat across the Gulf of Witlow into Keelan or Gwillamer Provinces last week.”

  “Ah, yes. We’d not settled on their disposition, as I last recall. I’m sure I have your report of the outcome somewhere on my desk, and I just haven’t gotten to read it yet.”

  Tuzere nodded. “Correct, General. Most of the Preddi were young, I assume those able to travel fast. The men were executed and the younger children given to Narthani families. The other women and older children were whipped and converted to slave status.”

  Akuyun turned back to the Buldorian. “Consider the women a gift of the Narthani. You may keep them, along with any other Caedelli you choose to capture in the raids. Be aware, you’ll have to transport any slaves you keep yourselves, so be judicious in the numbers. We’re not prepared to keep slaves from the other clans at this time, so any captives you take have to be taken off Caedellium.”

  “I think we can manage to do that, General.” The implication in the Buldorian’s tone left no doubt he didn’t feel the need for a Narthani to tell him his business.

  “All right then, Captain Adalan. I’ll expect you and the rest of your ships back here in no more than five to six months. I assume you’ll spend the intervening time doing whatever you do, but be sure to be back as we’ve agreed.”

  The mercenary leader nodded and, with cursory leave-taking, exited the room for the thirty-mile horse ride back to his ship.

  Akuyun addressed the other three men. “Any thoughts about our erstwhile Buldorian employees?”

  “Scum,” snorted Zulfa, “but I think they’ll do nicely for our purposes.”

  “I agree,” said Admiral Kalcan. “Scum, as Aivacs says, but no question about th
eir seamanship, and I think they’ll do well with raiding civilian targets.”

  Akuyun sat back in his chair. “All right then. They’ll be back within six months, and we’ll turn up the heat on the Caedelli one more notch. I know we’re all glad to move toward the next phases of our mission here and see a time to return to Narthon.”

  Chapter 11: Yozef Learns about the Narthani

  In the sixday after the interview with Abbot Beynom, Yozef’s ears repeatedly picked out the word Narthani in abbey staff conversations. Although he knew he must have heard the name before, it was only now registering with him, since the abbot had mentioned the Narthani and one of their ex-slaves. Who were these Narthani? Were they related to whatever reason Carnigan and the others went off for those sixdays, armed to the teeth?

  Carnigan was the first person he thought to ask. At a morning meal, Yozef entered the dining hall and looked for the large, red-headed figure. Most of the tables were full with brothers and sisters in their brown clothing, individuals and family groups he suspected were visitors and relatives of patients. Carnigan ate in a corner, alone as usual. Yozef walked among the tables and sat across from the red-headed man. A staff member had seen him come in and placed his own meal in front of him. This day the bowl held the usual thick porridge-like something, supplemented with pieces of a ham-like meat and fragments of a different nut than usual, this one deep black, with convolutions like a walnut. He knew it wasn’t ham, since he hadn’t seen any pigs, and how many different nuts did they have in this place? He swore he must have seen at least six or eight different kinds in these gruels.

  Yozef picked up the spoon, scooped up and blew on the steaming porridge, taking the moment to look at Carnigan. You know, I think of him more as a friend than anyone else I’ve ever known. Look at us. A gruff, red-headed giant and a castaway. Are we an odd pair or what?