When firing ceased and the smoke cleared, the results were gratifying or nauseating, depending on the viewer’s perspective and imagination. Of the one hundred bales, eleven stood unscathed. Twenty-one had single canister holes in their paper, twenty-nine had multiple holes, and thirty-nine bales were unidentifiable—either shredded by canister or shattered by quarrel charges.
Denes gathered the crews together and had to shout to silence the self-congratulations.
“It was a successful test. You all performed well, and I’m proud of you. Don’t forget that your victory was against hay bales. No one was shooting back at you. If we have to face the Narthani, it will be different, and not all of us will return home to our families.”
A more somber artillery corps packed up and returned the carriages to the storage buildings.
Nights Out
The arrival of Maera Kolsko-Keelan in Abersford refashioned Yozef’s social life, though not as much as expected. Most evenings they spent together, and although invitations from Abersford and the abbey came regularly, Maera limited them to one evening a week.
Yozef had been concerned about Maera finding a social circle of her own, but he needn’t have worried. She dove into planning the university and found association with the abbey’s scholastics fulfilling. To both his surprise and her own, friendships developed with several young mothers and mothers-to-be from different strata of Abersford society.
Maera insisted Yozef go with Carnigan and Filtin at least one night a week to the Snarling Graeko, with or without her. “I saw how much you enjoyed being with the other men. You need that occasional night of relaxation, and I’m not going to be a wife who expects her husband to stop what he enjoys to pamper her. Just try not to get too drunk too often.”
She also enjoyed an occasional evening at the pub but had to forswear beer on Yozef’s insistence.
“One thing, Maera. Now that you’re with child, you’ll have to stop drinking any spirits until the baby comes. American medicants know that spirits can affect growing babies. The worst consequences are when the woman drinks to excess, though even a little can have effects. It’s safer for the baby if the mother abstains completely.”
By now, Maera was accustomed to Yozef making assertions pulled as if haphazardly from a bag of his people’s knowledge. Most of the time he was worth listening to, but it got annoying. This time, Maera went to Diera.
“My,” said Diera, “he hasn’t said anything like this to me. If what he says is true, then I wish he’d shared this before, but that’s Yozef. I don’t believe he does it deliberately; it’s just something that doesn’t occur to him until triggered. In this case, it’s your child coming.”
“Is it always like that? A trigger?”
“No,” said Diera carefully and then with a quieter voice, as if saying something not quite to be shared, “then there’re the rumors of his acting like the knowledge is being whispered to him. I know it sounds silly. With Yozef? Who knows?”
Maera smile ruefully. “Merciful God, do I know. It’s so frustrating at times. I try not to let it bother me.”
“This spirits warning he mentioned,” said Diera, “let me look into our records. I’ll check for new babies with unusual problems and see if there’s any connection with medicant notes about the mother.”
Four days later, Diera came to Maera in the abbey library. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, but once again one of Yozef’s droplets of knowledge seems to be true. I checked records for births the last five years, and too often to be coincidence we had new babies enfeebled or deformed from mothers known to drink spirits to excess. It’s not connected in every case, but in enough that I’ve shown the other medicants at St. Sidryn’s the evidence and we agreed to issue a general warning. I’m also writing to other Keelan abbeys for them to check their records for confirmation. If it comes, we’ll expand the warning to the other provinces.”
Maera still accompanied Yozef to the pub on occasion, but for a different purpose than beer, jokes, and loud camaraderie. One corner of the Snarling Graeko was the turf of Go players. It wasn’t the same game as on Earth, but so similar that Yozef kept the name and wondered at some genetic predisposition in human brain wiring.
Maera had played the game by the time she was seven, usually with staff at St. Tomo’s abbey when visiting with her mother. By twelve, no one she played could beat her, and she stopped playing as she grew older. It was a revelation to find a Go culture in the Snarling Graeko, but a humbling one after losing first to one of Cadwulf’s bank clerks and then to Brother Wallington, the naturalist scholastic from St. Sidryn’s. The pub’s patrons weren’t sure how to react when the hetman’s daughter and the wife of Yozef Kolsko let loose a stream of curses after her loss to Wallington.
“Hah!” chortled Carnigan. “People think Maera’s a cold fish. Maybe they’re wrong. What do you say, Yozef? Are there times when she’s . . . you know . . . warm?”
Yozef pretended he didn’t know what Carnigan referred to and walked over to see what had incited his wife. By the time he arrived, she was apologizing to Wallington and challenged him to a second game. It was intense, and a crowd gathered around their table. She won. She never lost again, including the few times Yozef played her. That he was proud of her ability at Go, even admitting publicly he was out of her league at the game, meant more to her than winning.
Narthani Mustering
Okan Akuyun sat on his horse next to Aivacs Zulfa and the other senior Narthani leaders, watching the expedition force start toward Moreland. The complete formation had been together the last two sixdays, drilling relentlessly from dawn to dusk to keep a semblance of order in the combined Narthani infantry, cavalry, and artillery, all coordinated with the Eywellese and Selfcellese horsemen.
Akuyun supposed they could call their islander allies cavalry, even if they were more like mobs of horsemen.
Their roles were to scout for the main advance and then serve as flanking screens, if and when they could entice the Caedelli into open field battles.
Although none of the Narthani leaders believed two sixdays were enough training once the entire force came together from the different garrisons, they wanted the initial thrust into Moreland to be as much a surprise as possible. They wanted the clans coming to Moreland’s aid to have little time to get organized. The two sixdays were also as long as Akuyun figured they could keep their mustering of a force this size secret from the islanders.
“I hope you don’t mind my looking over your shoulder this once, Aivacs. There’s no reason for me to be here, and I wouldn’t want to give the impression I don’t have complete confidence in you. However, for once I’ll invoke the commander’s right to do what he wants. There are times I just have to see things for myself, and sending our first large formation against the islanders is one of those.”
“I understand, Okan. This is a major inflection point, removing all pretense that we’re on the island for any reason short of complete subjugation and incorporation into the Empire. I don’t envy your having to sit back and let someone else lead the way.”
“It’s the inevitable consequence of rising in rank and being stuck in headquarters, as I suspect you’ll find out one day. You’d think I’d be accustomed to it by now, yet there are still times I miss being in the field.”
An Eywellese advance screen disappeared into the distance. They were still twenty miles inside Preddi, and it would take most of a sixday to reach the Moreland border across the breadth of Eywell. They would move quickly until they crossed the border into Moreland and then . . . see what happened.
Akuyun wiped his brow from the morning’s heat. “Not just seeing you off is hard. Now I have to wait for dispatches on your progress. I’ll have to be concentrating on everyday matters in Preddi and imagining what’s happening in Moreland. How will the islanders respond and in what strength? Will you be able to entice them into mass horsemen charges to allow our infantry and cannon to chew them up?”
Zulfa didn’t
respond. He knew the questions were only rhetorical, Akuyun restating questions none of them knew the answers to. A crushing defeat would set the islanders back on their heels and prod some of the clans to rush to make accommodations with the invaders. If a decisive battle or battles weren’t forthcoming, they would cut a swath to the opposite coast, destroying every town and city across Moreland and Orosz provinces. If necessary, they would then circumnavigate the island, supported by the navy, destroying provinces one by one. None of them thought that would be necessary, expecting a culmination to come quickly following the first battles, especially if several clans came to Moreland’s aid and got crushed at the same time.
“The only unknown in my thinking,” said Zulfa, “is how many clans join Moreland. We hope it’s enough that a decisive defeat so weakens those clans that most of them come to terms, but you never know. We’ve looked at contingencies, but I continue to think it will all be decided at Moreland City. I can’t imagine the Moreland Clan letting us burn their capital unopposed, and if they commit, then the other clans coming to help Moreland will be forced to do the same.”
“Well, Aivacs, we’ll know for sure in the next couple of sixdays.”
The first infantry columns started after the Eywellese, followed by artillery, more infantry, more artillery, then Narthani cavalry last to keep the dust raised by the horses from being breathed by the infantry. Finally came wagons of supplies, medical units, and behind them more Eywellese and Selfcell horsemen, forming rear and flanking screens.
Having felt he’d satisfied his personal need to see, Akuyun addressed Zulfa. “I’ll leave you to it, Aivacs,” he said softly enough that the others didn’t hear. Then, louder and more formally, “Good hunting, Brigadier Zulfa, and glory to the Narthon Empire!”
With that, Zulfa and the other leaders saluted the Caedellium mission commander, who wheeled his horse and, followed by immediate staff and escort, headed back to Preddi City. Akuyun stopped once to look back from a hilltop. The sight of the force stirred feelings he seldom experienced any more, and he had the fleeting wish it was himself leading men to battle as he once had, and not Zulfa. It was only fleeting, because knowledge of battle’s consequences tempered the memories.
Chapter 27: Invasion
Call for Help
Culich and Breda sat finishing their meal under a pergola in the manor’s rear garden. They had attended a Godsday ceremony at St. Tomo’s Abbey in Caernford, then returned home, instead of eating mid-day meal with the abbot and select clansmen, as they often did. This evening’s meal at Keelan Manor would host Breda’s family, and the couple wanted time to themselves to relax before she focused on preparations and Culich sequestered himself in his study with endless paperwork. Only in Maera’s absence did he fully appreciate how much he’d relied on her help and how integral she’d been to their everyday life. Yet, as much as they missed their eldest daughter, both parents thanked God that Maera’s letters reflected she was happy, something they had feared might escape their precocious offspring.
“My letters from Maera are full of facts, as usual,” said Culich, “but she doesn’t dwell on herself. How about letters to her mother?”
“I suppose I read a lot between the lines, but I think the marriage is working better than we, and I suspect she, hoped. She misses her sisters and us, but the letters are filled with a sense of belonging and purpose. The only concern I detect is the coming child. She’s worried how it will change her life, if she’ll resent its constant needs, if she’ll be a good mother, if . . . well, you know Maera.”
“You think it’ll be all right?”
“I do. Still, I’m looking forward to her coming here when her time nears and to holding our first grandchild. I know it’s selfish of me, but I’m hoping you’ll convince Yozef to move here.”
Culich reached across the table and patted his wife’s hand. “It’ll happen. Yozef’s enterprises are growing too large for Abersford. He’ll eventually accept the practical reasons for moving to Caernford.” He lowered his voice and grinned. “Don’t tell Maera, but I’m confident enough to consider looking for a site to build them a home not too—”
Culich broke off when they heard a horse gallop to the front of the manor, then faint urgent voices.
Culich’s meal no longer sat satisfied in his stomach. What now?
Moments later, a young man raced around the corner to where they sat. Culich’s and Breda’s thoughts were of urgent news and a list of possibilities they didn’t want to hear.
The rider was a son of the semaphore station keeper at Caernford. He ran to Culich, gave a nod to Breda, and said, “Hetman. An urgent message from Moreland. Father said you needed to see it immediately.”
He reached into the pouch carried across one shoulder and gave his hetman a folded and sealed sheet of paper.
To Hetman Keelan
From Hetman Moreland
Large Narthani force plus Selfcell and Eywell
clansmen crossed into Moreland yesterday.
Est 6000 Narthani 3000 clansmen. Cannons
and many wagons. Assume invasion.
Can you help?
Culich slammed the paper on the tabletop. “May God damn all Narthani to the hottest reaches of Hell!” he shouted in a tone angry and bitter.
Breda paled. “What’s happened!?”
“What I’ve been expecting and afraid of. The Narthani are attacking Moreland and in enough force that it’s not merely a raid. It’s almost certainly an effort to take over the province and add to those they already control.”
Culich smoldered for a moment. “Breda, please bring me quill and paper while I think.”
She jumped to her feet and disappeared into the house.
Culich turned to the messenger. “I’ll give you a semaphore reply to Hetman Moreland, plus others to Mittack and Gwillamer. There’ll also be written messages to several of our people. Take the messages to the clan headquarters in Caernford, and they’ll be dispatched to the appropriate persons from there.”
Breda returned and placed the quill, ink, and papers in front of Culich. Without acknowledging her, he began writing. First, an answer to Moreland.
To Hetman Moreland
From Hetman Keelan
Gathering Tri-Clan forces. Est arrival
Moreland City 4 days 2200 men. Will
semaphore when leave. Will follow
semaphore route, check for messages
every 4 hours.
Then, semaphore messages to the other two clans of the Tri-Clan Alliance, invoking their agreed-on action in the event of a major Narthani move, and to Keelan boyermen near the semaphore lines. Finally, written messages to relevant clan leaders in Caernford and by horse to more distant boyermen without semaphore connections.
“The rest of today to alert all the boyermen,” Culich thought aloud. “Give them a day to gather men and start them on the way here or position to meet us on the way to Moreland, then all of us two days to reach Moreland City. Yes, we should link up with other clans by end of the fourth day, if all goes well. Four days? Will we get there in time to make any difference? If the Narthani are already into Moreland territory, it may be over before we get there.”
Culich shook his head. “There’s nothing for it. We do what we can and pray.”
The Tri-Clan Alliance had plans for this eventuality. All three clans had designated men ready to muster and depart on short notice. Gwillamer would send 400 men. They had a smaller population than Keelan and needed to secure the southwest border with Eywell. Mittack was also less populated but was under no immediate threat, so agreed on 600 men. Keelan would send 1,200 men, and all three clans kept enough men to defend against Narthani coastal raids. All 2,200 men would be under Culich’s personal command, although Vortig Luwis, as Keelan’s titular military advisor, would make the actual field decisions. Culich needed to be there to show support for Moreland and to prevent Tri-Clan forces from engaging in actions that might waste them to no good purpose.
&n
bsp; Finished with messages to his boyermen and the other clans, Culich wrote one for Denes Vegga at Abersford to come with the Abersford dragoons and artillery, then, once at Caernford, to organize the dragoons from the other cities. He hesitated, then picked up one more sheet of paper and wrote:
To Yozef Kolsko
From Hetman Keelan
Moreland invaded by Narthani.
Tri-Clan forces to leave in 2 days.
Request you accompany.
He wanted to assume Yozef would accompany his artillery creations, but one was never sure of anything with his daughter’s husband. The messenger took the last of the communiqués, secured them in his pouch, and was gone.
Breda had watched silently, one arm across her abdomen tightly, the other raised with a hand against her cheek. “How bad is it going to be, Culich?”
“I honestly don’t know. It still could be just a large raid. I don’t believe it, though. I think this is the next major move by the Narthani to take over all of Caedellium. I’m also taking Yozef with us.”
Breda had been expecting this. “I’ll pray for both you and all the clans. Poor Maera. She’s seemed so content, with child, and now this. It’ll be the first time she sends her husband off, not knowing whether he’ll return.”
Culich went to Breda and held her at arm’s length. “Does it ever get any easier?” he asked gently.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“I’ve always come back to you.”
“There’s never been a danger as great as this one.”
“I’m sorry, Breda. You know I wish I could make it easier for you.”
“Of course, I know. Just as I acknowledge I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to marry you. Unfortunately, knowing doesn’t make it easier. What can I do?”
“I’ll be busy with the men the next couple of days. You can help the abbey staff and Pedr prepare the medicant units and double-check the supply preparation. Be sure I know immediately about any problems.”
The Pen and the Sword (Destiny's Crucible Book 2) Page 33
