Cast Under an Alien Sun (Destiny's Crucible)
Page 12
“Carnigan, don’t let this go to your head, but I missed you when you were gone those sixdays.”
“Go to my head? What does that mean?”
One of those phrases that doesn’t translate. “Never mind. I missed your ugly face.”
“You should talk. At least now you don’t scare strong men like you did when they first found you, though I’d advise not looking in a mirror more than necessary. A pair of strange eyes might look back at you.”
They both laughed. At first, Carnigan had been irritated and puzzled by Yozef’s banter, but he quickly retaliated in kind, and the back-and-forth became part of their routine.
Yozef suspected others listening in on their interchanges wondered when Carnigan would pound him into the ground. He had noticed worried expressions and cautious movements away from their table by others in the dining hall the first month they’d sat together, talking and laughing. Not that talking had come easy, but, when the two were together, Carnigan’s trademark grunts and minimal sentences evolved in concert with Yozef’s improving Caedelli.
“I never asked at the time about the trip you and the other men took, and all armed. Was there some danger? Some enemy or wild animals to hunt? Maybe just training?”
“Training?” said Carnigan. “No, it was my turn to do patrolling against the Narthani and the damned Eywellese.”
“Narthani? Who or what are the Narthani?”
Carnigan’s face flushed and he hissed, “Narthani. The Evil One’s offspring. We have to be always on alert for Eywellese raids. The cursed Eywellese Clan is in league with the Narthani and does their bidding. We had a sighting of Eywellese riders to the northwest part of Keelan Province and needed to search for them.”
Yozef didn’t like the sound of this! He knew Eywell was the clan north of Keelan, but Carnigan tied them to the Narthani. What was going on?
“Did you find the Eywellese?”
“No,” Carnigan said, shaking his head. “There were signs of a small party, but they either had gone home or hid too well. This makes us worry all the more. Why would they send groups to spy on us, unless planning to some day send large raiding parties?”
“Raids! Have there been raids into Keelan Province?”
“No. So far only Moreland Province has suffered serious Eywellese raids. They burn farms, steal crops and animals if the party is big enough, and kill all of the people they don’t take away as slaves.”
Yozef sat back, shocked. This didn’t match the view he was developing of Caedellium as a version of an idyllic eighteenth-century New England.
“How often do these raids occur?”
“More often recently. The first one in Moreland was only two months ago. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Oh, there were the usual small raids and vendettas among clans and even families within Keelan. These reports are of scores or more Eywellese. Several small villages and hamlets were destroyed. In some, the people had warning enough so they could run or hide, but word is over fifty Morelanders were taken away and as many as a hundred killed.”
“And you say these Narthani are behind the Eywellese?”
“Everyone assumes so. The Eywellese weren’t so bold before allying themselves with the Narthani.”
“Who exactly are these Narthani? Are they from Caedellium?”
“No. From somewhere else on Anyar. I don’t know the details. You’d have to ask someone like the abbot.”
“So you and the other men . . . you’re part of the protective force against the Eywellese. Part of an . . . ?” Yozef struggled for the Caedellium word for “army,” and nothing surfaced. “I don’t know the Caedellium word. In my language, it would be army. A regular organization for large numbers of men that fight wars.”
Carnigan laid his spoon down and wrinkled his brow. “I don’t understand. What kind of organization?”
“Well, to fight efficiently, the men are organized into groups, starting with the smallest group, which are led by a leader, then several of these groups together with a higher leader over them all, and so on with larger groups. It’s necessary to control and coordinate the fighting.”
Yozef winced. Words of wisdom from an armchair strategist and movie watcher.
“I still don’t understand. If we have to fight, we gather, find the enemy, and drive them away or kill them if we can.”
It sounded more like a mob or a posse, similar to what he saw Carnigan riding off with.
Yozef thought for a moment. “Sorry, I’m probably not explaining myself clearly. My use of your language still needs work.”
Carnigan grunted and finished his last bite. “I’m off to the stable this morning. Grooming horses and cleaning stalls. Then later helping the abbey blacksmith. It’s a chance for you to learn something new.”
“Not today, Carnigan. I have to do some thinking. I may take your advice and try to speak with the abbot about the Narthani.”
Carnigan slapped Yozef’s shoulder and left for his day’s assignment.
Yozef emptied his own bowl, as he searched the dining hall for Brother Fitham. He spied the elderly man rising to leave, and he hurried over to him.
“Hello, Yozef! And how are you this fine God’s day?”
“Fine, fine,” Yozef responded absentmindedly and then rushed on. “There’s something I’d like to talk with Abbot Sistian about. I was wondering if you could find out whether I could see him this morning?”
“I’ll check, but the abbot might ask why you want to see him.”
“Please just say it’s something I need to speak with him about.”
“Whatever you wish. I’ll stop at his office and ask.”
“Thank you, Brother Fitham. I’ll be at my Caedelli language studies in the library.”
The language session proved difficult. The tutoring by Selmar, the abbot’s and abbess’s younger son, had ended a month earlier, and Yozef studied on his own in the abbey library, in his room, or seeking out staff to practice Caedelli. Most days, the necessity of mastering Caedelli provided enough incentive to steel himself to study. But not this day. His mind wandered, fighting concentration while awaiting word from Fitham.
At mid-morning, Fitham appeared at Yozef’s side. “The abbot can see you as soon as you’re ready.”
“Now is a good time.” Yozef gathered up his papers and followed Fitham to the abbot’s office.
Sistian Beynom sat at a desk full of stacks of paper, folder, and ledgers. He smiled when Yozef entered, laid down a quill, and sighed. “You would think a shepherd would spend time with his flock instead of reading and writing reports, planning sermons, and worrying about enough money to run everything. That’s the life of an abbot, one aspect I’m suspicious my predecessor did not fully explain before I took this position.”
Yozef smiled with sympathy, strangely reassured that some aspects of human civilization were the same, no matter what planet.
“Thank you for seeing me, Abbot. There’s something you mentioned when we talked a few days ago. The Narthani. I wanted to find out more about them.”
The abbot’s genial mood vanished. His eyes narrowed, as did his lips. There was a noticeable tightening of the jaw. Something told Yozef the good abbot was not as charitable toward these Narthani as might be expected for someone in his position. However, maybe understanding and forgiveness were not the same here.
“The Narthani,” the abbot spat. “A scourge straight from the Evil One, if there ever was.”
It was the same response as Carnigan. Yozef was definitely getting a bad feeling about these people.
“Who are they?” asked Yozef. “And what do they mean for Caedellium?”
The abbot composed himself for a moment, leaning back in his chair and taking a few deep breaths. Yozef wondered whether he was praying for a more peaceful frame of mind or imagining shoving these Narthani at sword point into the pits of whatever hell the Caedelli believed in.
“They came to Caedellium six years ago. Their own land is on the large contin
ent of Melosia. Though I don’t know their complete history, about four hundred years ago they were one of the minor semi-nomadic peoples living in the cold, dry plains and mountains of north-central Melosia. After consolidating control over a number of other similar peoples, they invaded and took over more fertile lands to the south in a series of bloody wars lasting nearly fifty years. By the time the other peoples of Melosia awoke fully to the Narthani threat, they controlled almost a tenth of the whole continent. In the next hundred and fifty years, they expanded their control to a third of the continent.”
Yozef remembered from the world map Sistian had shown him during their previous meeting that Melosia covered three-quarters of the planet’s hemisphere containing the major land masses. A quick estimate by Yozef put the area controlled by the Narthani at something larger than the entire North American continent. Yozef whistled to himself. Sounds like the Mongols.
“Are they still expanding their territory, or were they stopped?”
“Slowed, but not stopped. The Narthani kept pushing on their neighbors, but there’s been no further major loss of land to the Narthani in the last twenty years, at least according to reports we got before the Narthani stopped all communication between the clans and the rest of Anyar. Not that there aren’t still battles, but the neighboring peoples had stopped them on Melosia.”
“And elsewhere?”
“The news there is not so good. Those spawn of the Evil One found their way blocked to the west and the east, so decided to look for easier prey. They had been a land power, then they built a huge fleet of ships and invaded the Kingdom of Rustal in the eastern part of the Ganolar continent. In less than two years, the Narthani subjugated the entire kingdom.”
Yozef remembered the map again. Rustal, a realm about the size of Canada.
“Rumors are that resistance still exists in the mountains and colder, more southern parts of Rustal, but most of the population and all of the best lands are now part of the Narthon Empire. The only reason the Narthani didn’t continue to conquer the entire continent is probably because they found the lands too poor to justify further conquest. In addition, immense mountain ranges block access to the western part of Ganolar, and there are easier victims elsewhere.
“About the same time this was happening, the Narthani trading ships came to Preddi. The city was the main Caedellium port for trade with the rest of Anyar. All believe there were enormous bribes paid to the Preddi Hetman and other leading Preddi families. Whatever the reasons, the Preddi were fools and allowed the Narthani to build a separate Narthani compound near the city. The Narthani provided the trade goods at unreasonably low prices and gave the Preddi complete control over supplying these goods to the rest of Caedellium. As you can imagine, the Preddi became enormously rich, and I’m afraid the Preddi Hetman and his family dreamed of using this wealth to expand the Preddi Province at the expense of their two neighbors, the Selfcell and Eywell clans.”
Yozef remembered enough Earth history to suspect where this was going: playing the clans against one another, if he was right.
The abbot shook his head. “Inter-clan fighting became more severe, and the Preddi overreached. A simultaneous attack by both Selfcell and Eywell put Preddi in danger of being dismembered by their two neighboring clans.”
England and India! This history sounds like how the English and the East Indian Company manipulated the Indians to fight one another, and the English took over the continent with minimal military forces of their own.
“Let me guess,” said Yozef. “The Narthani helped the Preddi.”
Sistian eyed Yozef. “Yes, though at a cost. At first, the Narthani insisted this was an internal Caedellium matter, and they were just there for trade. Finally, the Narthani were ‘convinced’ by the Preddi that trade would suffer or even be eliminated if the fighting continued. We hear that the Narthani agreed to assist by providing troops to help defend the Preddi—”
“And in return,” Yozef cut in, “they would be allowed to increase the size of the Narthani compound and permanently keep troops to assure the security of their compound?”
Sistian squinted at Yozef. “Why do I have the feeling you already know this story?”
“While I don’t know the particular details of this story, something similar has happened elsewhere on Anyar, according to the histories my people are taught. Not to us directly, but what we know of from histories of other peoples. Let me guess what happened next. The Preddi agreed. The Narthani presence increased, and the fighting continued.”
“Yes, and not only between Preddi and Selfcell or Eywell, but also between Selfcell and Eywell. All three clans slowly bled themselves for several more years, with the Narthani presence increased as the Preddi leaders saw their power slipping away. When the Preddi finally came to their senses, it was too late. As if ‘magically’. . . ,” the abbot shook his head, “a Narthani fleet appeared and landed thousands more soldiers. The Narthani crushed the Preddi clan. Though exact further details are clouded by lack of information or enough eyewitness testimony, within a year we believe there were fifty thousand Narthani in Preddi, including thousands of soldiers. The Selfcell and Eywell clans were so weakened by years of fighting, they evidently felt they had no choice when given ultimatums to ally themselves with the Narthani.
“It seems the Eywell clan was more enthusiastic about the alliance. Unfortunately, when Selfcell appealed to the other clans for aid in resisting the Narthani, no clan agreed to help. I’m friends since my youth with Culich Keelan, the Keelan hetman, and I know he’ll never forgive himself or the other clans for not recognizing the danger at the time and coming to Selfcell’s aid.”
“So, what’s the status at the present?”
“There followed a period of relative quiet. There was little reliable news out of Preddi or the other two clans. We believe many more Narthani were brought in—soldiers, tradesman, farmers, and slaves.” The sour expression from Sistian accompanied the last category.
“We now believe there are at least a hundred thousand Narthani in Preddi, so there’s no doubt they see their presence as permanent, and I am afraid, as does Hetman Keelan, that this is only the beginning.”
The abbot looked at Yozef curiously. “How would you predict this story will continue, based on what you say has happened elsewhere on Anyar?”
Yozef rubbed the back of his left hand against his cheek. “If I had to speculate, I’d say the Narthani tightened their hold on the other two clans at the same time, pretending any conflicts between those two and their other clan neighbors are not their concern. They will claim to be interested only in protecting the territory they already have. I expect they have also sent envoys to many of the other clans, trying to convince them of their limited intentions and possibly offering more bribes. One purpose would be to discourage the other clans from uniting against them.”
Sistian’s hands clenched. “I see our separate histories do follow similar paths. Maybe it’s the nature of people, which sometimes makes one wonder how much free will we have and how much is predestined.”
Yozef offered, “Or maybe free will is the province of the individual and not the group?”
“I suppose that option should give me some succor, yet somehow it doesn’t. Anyway, yes, you’re correct. There were initially Narthani delegations visiting various clans openly, but that stopped a year ago, although there are rumors some coastal clans still have occasional Narthani visitors. Even that seems to have stopped in the last few months, and about the same time, small raids began into Moreland Province, along with Eywell riders seen in remote parts of northern Keelan. I know Culich is afraid this is only the beginning.”
“And how does all this affect Keelan?”
“Keelan is committed to defending not only its own territory but also the two neighboring clans. Keelan, Gwillamer, and Mittack Provinces are part of a Tri-Clan Alliance. It was formed many generations ago to discourage aggression from neighboring clans. There was a time when Caedellium was plag
ued by territorial fighting and extended blood feuds across clan borders. Now we have an All-Clan Conclave yearly in Orosz City to settle such issues, but the alliance between Keelan and Gwillamer and Mittack is more obligatory. Keelan is required, by formal treaty and honor, to assist Gwillamer and Mittack should they be attacked. The original treaty didn’t envision a foreign invader like the Narthani and their Caedelli allies, but I know our three hetmen are interpreting it that way. The immediate possible threat is from Eywell Province, which borders on northern Keelan and is not far from Gwillamer.”
“Is there any sign all the clans may work together to resist the Narthani?”
“Hetman Keelan believes more clans are coming to understand the threat, though nothing yet is decided. I fear our hetman is trying to be more optimistic than is justified. The clans’ history makes them too accustomed to seeing the first threats as one another, rather than outsiders like the Narthani.”
“Let me guess again. Those clans farthest away are the least worried, probably saying they should not get involved, since the Narthani are not threatening them.”
The abbot stroked his beard with both hands. “As new as you are to the island, you seem to understand Caedellium politics.”
The abbot looked down at the papers on his desk, shook his head, and looked back up at Yozef. “I hope I answered your question about the Narthani. There’s not much else I can add, and I’m sorry, but I need to get back to all of this paper.”
“Thank you, Abbot. I appreciate your taking the time to talk with me. I’m afraid I agree with your worry and the hetman’s about the Narthani.”
Yozef walked to his room, his mind replaying the abbot’s words. The Narthani sounded like real pissers. He’d been so wrapped up in trying to adjust to here—to Abersford and the abbey complex—that he hadn’t thought about what was happening on a larger stage. What this all meant for him personally could be bad, if he got caught up in a war of conquest for Caedellium. Could whatever future he had, be with these Narthani, instead of the Caedelli?
Christ! After what happened to me, is it too much to be able to live quietly? Well, there’s nothing I can do about it. I only hope I don’t get directly involved.