The Pen and the Sword (Destiny's Crucible Book 2) (23 page)

His
wife was right. His trip north had also been by carriage to meet the Adris and
Hewell hetmen and later to the Pawell/Bevens meeting. His back, legs, and butt
still complained vociferously and now would have to endure another trip.

For
the next few minutes, Culich questioned Herwold further and studied the map
until those summoned arrived. When all four were present, and Culich had input
from his main advisors, he was decisive.

“Vortig,
you’ll accompany me to Dornfeld. Bring thirty men from the Caernford garrison
as escort. Mulron will be in charge here while we’re gone. We’ll call on the
Shamir and Nylamir districts to gather a hundred men each and get them moving
to Dornfeld. They should be there by the time we arrive. We’ll also alert the
same districts, along with all the others, to be prepared to send more men, if
necessary. I assume Sarnin will have all capable Dornfeld district men mustered.”

Culich
turned to the red-haired Kennrick. “Pedr, I leave you in charge here in Caernford
for clan affairs. Hopefully, it won’t be necessary, but if this is something
major happening, you’ll be responsible for mobilizing whatever’s needed from
here.”

Kennrick
nodded.

Culich
looked around. Maera and the semaphore manager leaned over a table, composing semaphore
messages to the other clans and Keelan boyermen close to semaphore lines. They
wrote messages to boyermen out of semaphore range and drafted a response to Boyerman
Sarnin in Dornfeld. Things were in motion. Culich’s eyes lit again on Kolsko, who
had edged up to the map on the wall, as the others drifted away.

“Yozef,”
Culich spoke up.

Only
Maera and Breda noticed it was the first time Culich used his first name.

“I
want you to come, too. You’ll ride with me, and we can continue our discussions
while you get to see more of Keelan. Plus, I’d like to hear your views on what
we find at Dornfeld.”

Maera
started to say something, but her mother stopped her with a hand to her
daughter’s shoulder and a slight shake of the head.

For
Yozef, it was a matter of “Now what?”
He’d come to Caernford for a short
visit at the veiled order of the hetman, got “engaged” to his daughter, and now
the old fart wanted to drag him off to who knew what?!

He
was tempted to beg off, but a look from the women stopped him. He sighed. He
was stuck. Oh, well. It would give him a chance to let the hetman become more
comfortable with him marrying Maera, assuming he didn’t screw up by saying
something wrong. Culich was right that Yozef would see more of Keelan, plus he should
learn more about the inner workings of the clan just by observing the hetman. However,
why Culich wanted Yozef’s input on whatever was happening at Dornfeld was beyond
him.

The
next few hours were a whirlwind of activity, with Yozef on the outskirts. His only
responsibility was to get himself ready, which wasn’t hard, since he hadn’t
brought much from Abersford.

Whatever
help he needed was provided by Maera. A pair of fur-lined gloves and a parka
appeared. “You’ll be going through the Dillagon Pass, and it gets cold at that
altitude.” A pouch of dry sausage, hard cheese, and crackers. “You’ll be fed on
the way, but you might get hungry.”

She
sounds like my mother
.

The
final items Maera pressed on Yozef were a brace of flintlock pistols and a wicked-looking
knife. “You didn’t bring any weapons with you. The other men will likely take care
of any danger, but you can never be sure.”

The
biggest item of all, and one that wouldn’t fit into the carriage, was Carnigan.
Yozef first saw him talking to Maera. The big man shrugged, nodded to her, and
came over to Yozef.

“I’ve
been asked to come along as a second driver to the hetman’s carriage.” The big
man laughed. “And to look after you, so you don’t fall off the carriage or
drown in a foot-deep creek on the way.”

The
party gathered, ate a mid-day meal on the veranda, and was ready. Yozef was
about to climb into the carriage when Maera called his name, came up to him,
and gave him a quick kiss, then turned and went back inside the manor. Stunned
silence from the gathering was followed by whispers, as word passed to those
not looking in the right direction. Something big was going on with this man,
who was a stranger to most of the Caernford men. Not only had Maera, of
all
people, kissed the man but right in front of the hetman, who hadn’t reacted.

Into
the carriage climbed Culich, the elder Luwis, and Yozef, with the driver and
Carnigan on top, and they were off: carriage, thirty-one horsemen, eight pack
horses, and eight spare horses. Breda’s estimate of the road distance to
Dornfeld meant that even pushing the pace, it would take the rest of that day
and every daylight hour during the next to reach their destination.

The
roads were mainly dirt, with occasional gravel sections. Even with their
well-maintained condition, the jouncing of the carriage was continuous. They
changed horses five times, stopping once to sleep four hours. Yozef found the
trip to Dornfeld interesting. He talked more with Culich and Luwis, mainly
rehashing previous conversations with Luwis and Kennrick. Yozef thought he
hadn’t contradicted himself any more than in any normally repeated interchange
and managed to cover any inconsistencies. Not that they spent the entire time
talking. Most of the time they looked at the land they were passing through.

Yozef
also spent hours on top with Carnigan, who, on the second day, told him that
Maera had volunteered him for the trip to take care of the prospective
bridegroom.

“You
devil.” Carnigan chortled. “I leave you alone for a couple of days, and you
cozy up to the hetman’s daughter. And to Maera! People will start to wonder if
you’re an archangel come to Anyar or a complete idiot. Not that I don’t like
Maera Keelan,” Carnigan hastened to add, seeing Yozef’s face start to darken,
“but you must admit she’d be a handful for anyone.”

Yozef
relaxed. “If she has a problem with people, it’s only because of them and not
her.”

“That
may be true, Yozef,” he said seriously, “but then it’s only more to your credit,
and people will come to see that. Since you kissed her in the hetman’s
presence, does this mean there might be a wedding coming?”

“It’s
not settled. Hetman Keelan still has to give consent.”

“Do
you think you’d even still be within Keelan or that he’d ask you to come on
this trip, if he wasn’t going to approve? I also wouldn’t want to be the one
arguing with Sen Maera once she makes up her mind.”

The
image of Carnigan being intimidated by Maera brought forth the image of a Chihuahua
confronting a mastiff, until he substituted Maera and Carnigan in place of the
dogs. Then it didn’t seem so preposterous.

“There’s
something else. I never told Maera about Bronwyn or the child. I guess I didn’t
know exactly what to say or how she’d react.”

“All
that was before you married, so I don’t see a problem. In fact, I wouldn’t be
surprised if Maera already knows all about it. Remember who you’re marrying.”

Carnigan
had a point.

Early
the second day, they came within sight of the Dillagon Mountain foothills. The
road’s grade gradually increased, as the air cooled and valley vegetation gave
way to a succession of forests.

An
hour had passed without Yozef and Carnigan talking, when Yozef lay a hand on
the big shoulder in front of him. “Carnigan, it’s the custom with my people for
what we call a ‘best man’ to present the man at a marriage. It’s usually a
brother, a cousin, or a close friend. If a marriage happens between Maera and me,
would you be my best man?”

There
was no speaking for more than a minute. Then an enormous hand was laid on top
of Yozef’s, still on Carnigan’s shoulder. “I’d be honored, Yozef,” the big man
said in a strangled voice.

As
warned by Maera, the half-day passing through the Dillagon Mountains proved the
value of gloves and parka. The temperature fell near freezing at the top of the
pass. Fortunately, once they reached the high point, they dropped steeply toward
Dornfeld. The tiny stream they had followed down the western side of the pass
merged with other streams and grew into a river with cataracts and falls. They
continued along the last miles, Yozef mesmerized by the scenery and the
lengthening mountain shadows that reached out to a town perched on ocean cliffs.

They
rode into Dornfeld at last light. Kerosene lanterns and torches lit a square
where awaited a cluster of men, two of whom clasped forearms with Culich.

“Cadoc
Gwillamer’s the tall one,” mumbled Carnigan, “hetman of the Gwillamer Clan. The
shorter, round one is Duwid Sarnin, the Dornfeld boyerman.”

The
three men talked, then went into a building. A rough-hewed man led the rest of the
Keelan party to an inn to be served a meal and be directed to prepared baths
and rooms to rest sore bones and bottoms.

Yozef
woke the next morning to the smell of brisk ocean air through an open window in
the room he shared with Carnigan. They’d also shared a bed, with Yozef
relegated to one edge. He’d woken several times to stop from rolling off, as
Carnigan shifted his mass during dreams.

A
knock on the door was accompanied by an announcement that a meal awaited, and
the meeting would start in one hour. Yozef threw back the bedcovers and dressed
quickly.

Dornfeld
sat astride the Keelan-Gwillamer border and was an oddity: a joint town of the
two provinces and only possible because of long-standing good relations between
the two clans. The town had a single mayor, Duwid Sarnin, a Keelander, and also
the district boyerman, whose wife was from Gwillamer.

After
a quick meal, Yozef walked the quarter mile to an overlook where a waterfall
plunged directly into the surf. North of the waterfall, sticking into the sea, was
a shelf of land whose southern edge provided a protected harbor for fishing
boats. He looked west and wasn’t sure but thought he could just see the hills of
Preddi Province across the gulf.

So
close, and so ominous.

He
walked back and arrived just as the meeting began. The two delegations met in a
room overlooking the bridge connecting the two halves of Dornfeld. The span
loomed a hundred feet across a deep ravine, with the river cascading two
hundred feet below. Yozef envisioned that once the river had descended quickly
from the nearby mountains and eroded the upper strata of harder rock, it had
worn through the underlying softer layers and kept eating down to its present
depth.

There
were eleven men in the room. Although most of the men knew one another, quick
introductions were made. Cadoc Gwillamer led the Gwillamer delegation,
accompanied by his eldest son, Cirwyn; what may have been a younger son or another
male relative (Yozef missed the name); two rough-looking men Yozef interpreted
as military types; and two other men introduced as advisors. For Keelan, it was
Culich, Vortig Luwis, Duwid Sarnin, the local magistrate, and Yozef. Carnigan
waited outside, by preference.

Yozef
looked around the room and wondered why he was here. From the curious looks,
the Gwillamese wondered the same.

“Hetman
Gwillamer and I shared information and agree we believe the Narthani may be
about to launch a move into this region,” Culich said. “Since the Dillagon Pass
is the immediate route into Keelan Province, I’ve ordered the garrison in the
pass reinforced with another fifty men. Given the bottleneck at the fort in the
pass, it’d be almost impossible to force the pass by anything short of an
extended assault that would give time for more reinforcements to get there.
What
is
vulnerable is the Keelan territory running from here north to
the Eywell border. Hetman Gwillamer also reaffirms the Tri-Clan Alliance and
Gwillamer’s help in protecting Keelan territory, if necessary.”

Cadoc
nodded. “I also appreciate Keelan reaffirming its pledge of alliance. Not that
I doubted, but it’s always comforting to get confirmation. The question is, what
do we do?”

“What
do we do?” questioned Cadoc’s son Cirwyn incredulously. “We defend our provinces
and destroy any invaders.”

Cadoc
cast an annoyed eye at his heir. “That’s our
wish
, but how do we
do
it?”

Cirwyn
flushed at the implied reprimand.

“So
far, we’ve no indication how many of them would be coming, when it would
happen, or even if it will,” Cadoc said, addressing Culich. “Is there any news
farther east with the rest of your border with Eywell?”

Culich
gestured to Luwis for an answer.

“Nothing
definite, Hetman,” he replied. “Only that there are movements of men in
southern Eywell and that whatever happens will most certainly include both
Narthani and Eywellese.”

“So,”
said Culich, “our immediate problem is we don’t know how serious this is going
to be. It isn’t likely Keelan is the target on this side of the Dillagon Pass.
Are they going to try to push through Keelan territory and into Gwillamer,
maybe even try to take the whole province?”

The
Gwillamese look grim.

“Father,”
said a previously chastised Cirwyn, “if they come with major forces, we need to
gather everything we can as quickly as possible if we’re going to stop them at
the Keelan-Eywell border.”

That
border was twenty miles north across the narrow, flat plain and into rolling
hills rising quickly to the mountains. The intervening land included half a
dozen villages and scattered farms and ranches. The land was neither the most
productive nor a densely settled part of Keelan Province.

“There
are two questions,” Luwis proposed. “How many are coming, and how do we defend?”

“Yozef,”
Culich said, “come look at the map and tell us what you think.”

The
Gwillamese looked up at Yozef with surprise. Only his name had been mentioned
in the introductions, not his status or role at the meeting.

Yozef
hesitantly scanned the room, then edged up to the table holding the map. “Sorry,
Hetman, what is it you want me to do?”

“You’ve
been listening to us. The Narthani might be coming this way. If they do, we
have to decide where to try and stop them and with what forces. Are there many
options or just one?”

“I’m
not a military person, Hetman. I’ve no experience in such decisions.”

“As
you’ve said. Please look at the map and ask questions if you need to,” pressed
Culich.

The
others looked curiously at Culich.

Yozef
looked down at the map for a few moments. He was nervous and unsure what he was
supposed to do. Nevertheless, he studied the map. It showed an area perhaps a
hundred miles across, including the borders of Gwillamer, Keelan, Eywell, and
Moreland. Tokens of different shapes and colors had been placed on several
positions. His eyes turned to the map’s edge where Moreland abutted Keelan and
Eywell. Something tugged at his subconscious.

“Is
there a map of all of Caedellium?”

Culich
looked at Cadoc with a raised eyebrow.

“Cirwyn,”
Cadoc said to his son, “in the map case. Pull out the Caedellium map.”

Cirwyn
produced the map and spread it on the table, covering the first map after
sweeping aside the tokens.

By
now, Yozef had forgotten his nervousness and the others watching him. He
focused on the provinces for a full minute. He didn’t notice men glancing at one
another, puzzled. “What would I do if I were the Narthani and wanted to take
the entire island?” he said musingly, not specifically to anyone and more to
himself. “What if I had a secure base in Preddi, Eywell, and Selfcell? What
would be my next major move? Gwillamer?” He picked up a large token, a red
horse, and placed it on Gwillamer. “No.” He picked up the token and moved it
east. “Moreland would be the prime target and then on to Orosz, as we’ve
discussed. Everything else would be diversions and dependent on how they helped
me take Moreland.”

“Why
Moreland?” prompted Culich.

“Because
it’s the center of the island and a rich province. If they take Moreland, it threatens
the other provinces, cuts the semaphore lines connecting provinces north and
south, and makes it harder for the provinces to coordinate resistance.”

“If
Moreland is their main target, why threaten Gwillamer?” asked Cadoc.

“A
diversion,” said Yozef. “Or a reconnaissance in force.”

“A
what?” said Luwis. Yozef had used the English word.

“What’s
this ‘reconnaissance’?” said Culich.

“A
military move to find out information, not necessarily to hold objectives,”
Yozef explained. “A big enough force to brush aside weak opposition and move as
deep as possible into enemy territory before running up against forces large
enough to be a threat. Then withdraw with the information gathered.”

“The
Narthani already know we’re here. They must know the general lay of the land
from the Eywellese,” said Cadoc.

“If
invasion is the goal, yes, but not if they have other intentions.”

“Not
to invade Dornfeld district or Gwillamer, only to threaten?” queried Culich. “If
we move men here, we reduce our ability to respond elsewhere.”

“Like
Moreland,” said Luwis, picking up the thread.

Cadoc
still looked puzzled. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Yozef
responded, still focused on the maps, “If Keelan moves major forces here, it’s
limited in what can be done to help Moreland if
they
are invaded. On the
other hand, if Keelan
doesn’t
move men here, the reconnaissance in force
will find this out, since the Narthani will see they face only Gwillamese. The reconnaissance
could then be reinforced and attempt to roll down the Gwillamer coastal plain.”

“
Forcing
us to send major help to Gwillamer,” said Culich, “and, again, limiting our
help to Moreland.”

Yozef
pulled the local map back to the top and pointed to several markers in the
mountains between Gwillamer and Keelan. “Are these passes through the
mountains?”

Cirwyn
had followed Yozef’s finger. “Yes. There are a series of passes and valleys
that run through the mountains until you reach the southern part of Gwillamer.
It turns into hills and more open land along our southern border with Keelan.”

“What
would happen if the Narthani pushed down past several of these passes and
valleys?”

Culich
grimaced. “Besides aiding Gwillamer, we’d have to reinforce every possible
invasion point to Keelan. Whereas the Dillagon Pass is so narrow a relatively
small force could hold it forever, as you go farther south, the passes get
wider. By the fourth one, it’s a valley two miles wide at its narrowest. At
some point, there’d be no way we could help Moreland. All of our attention
would have to be on how to push the Narthani out of Gwillamer and protect
Keelan.”

Vortig
and the Gwillamese were shaking their heads.

“But
surely the Narthani commanders would know that the farther they pushed into
Gwillamer,” said one of the Gwillamese, “the more danger there would be of
Keelan cutting in behind them and isolating them from their supply line and
being caught between two clans.”

“So
what?” said Cadoc, now seeing it all. “Once that happens, they simply embark
their men on ships and move them elsewhere.”

“And
their goal is achieved even more, putting us even further away from helping
Moreland,” said Culich.

“Devious,
and without much danger to them,” said Vortig Luwis, looking questioningly at
Yozef. “So where does this leave us? To stop them at our border with Eywell
will take a large portion of our men, even with support from Gwillamer,
limiting our ability to help Moreland.”

“Only
if we try to stop them at the Eywell/Keelan border,” said Culich.

Yozef
agreed. “If you’re willing to give up Keelan land between your border with
Eywell and here, they can be stopped at the Keelan/Gwillamer border. Here at
Dornfeld. The river and its canyon are a formidable barrier. Why not use it?
From where the river comes out of the mountains to here are only a few miles.
Any place the Narthani tried to cross would be difficult and would give us time
to gather forces to repel them.”

“Give
up Keelan land?” protested Luwis.

“Yes,”
said Yozef, never looking up from the maps. “Land is just land. It isn’t going
anywhere. Land is forever and uncaring. It’s the people and the beliefs that
are important. Land given or lost can be retaken. People killed or clans lost
are lost forever.” With that, Yozef looked up to see everyone in the room
looking at him. His nervousness returned, and he stepped back slightly, looking
confused.

Culich
listened to Yozef and observed how he became engrossed with his thinking, as if
listening to his own mind.

I
wonder if he even remembers anything he said the last few minutes
, Culich thought. 

“Pardon
me, Hetman, what was it you wanted me to do?”

No,
I don’t think he does remember
.

“That’s
fine, Yozef. You’ve helped.”

Culich
turned back to the maps and the others. “All right. Do we all see the dilemma
we face and the poor choices?”

They
all nodded.

“So
if the defense is to be here,” Duwid Sarnin spoke up, “where
exactly
will the defense be? Half of Dornfeld is on the Keelan side.”