The Pen and the Sword (Destiny's Crucible Book 2) (36 page)

“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.

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.

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.”

Culich
didn’t say it also gave her something to do for the next few days.

Abersford Muster

Scarcely
an hour later, a semaphore message arrived at the Abersford station over the
spur line Yozef had had installed. Even though it was Godsday, Yozef was in a workshop,
along with several of his workers. He figured if they were dedicated enough to
be working on their rest day, the least he could do was show up to support them
and see how it was going, though Maera made him promise he’d be home well
before evening meal.

A
worker was about to test the latest attempt at making a steam cylinder when a
messenger rode up to where they stood outside the shop, behind a thick six-foot-high
barricade, in case the trial run went bad, as had happened before and was the
reason one corner of the main shop had been recently rebuilt.

He
read the message once. Then again, and the third iteration was when it sunk in.
Culich wanted him to accompany an army to help fight the Narthani? Not
something high on Yozef’s list of things he wanted to do. The one experience
was more than enough for a lifetime. A combined flashback and flash forward
rose unbidden, involving him standing in front of a Narthani horse charge,
firing a musket at an infinite number of sword- and lance-bearing Narthani on
huge horses breathing fire. Which would be the one to skewer him?

He
thanked the messenger, who informed him the hetman expected a response. Yozef
asked the messenger to follow him home. There, he went in the house and,
without speaking, gave Maera the message.

Maybe
she’ll tell me I don’t have to go. Or that I’m more important here. Or anything
not involving me turning into a shish kabob
.

He
was disappointed.

“Naturally,
Father expects you to help push back the Narthani.”

Not
the response Yozef hoped for, and not in her satisfied voice. She immediately
focused on what he needed to take with him and started giving the Faughns orders.
It somehow didn’t seem the appropriate moment to tell his militant, pregnant
wife that going to fight the Narthani was low on his wish list.

“Brak,
saddle a horse.”

As
if there are options. Seabiscuit’s still the only nag I trust not to throw me
first chance.

“Elian,
lay out several sets of clothes—rugged ones.”

What?
Best for a battle? Something to deflect sharp objects? How about wearing a
tank? Or body armor?

“Weapons.
I’ll get them ready,” Maera finished.

I’m
more likely to hurt myself than scare any Narthani.

Maera
acted energized. Within thirty minutes, she handed Brak a pack to tie behind
Seabiscuit’s saddle. “There are extra clothes, rain gear, a blanket, water, and
dry sausage and crackers.”

Maera
accompanied Yozef to Abersford. The 160 men gathered in the town square
consisted of Vegga’s dragoons, Yozef’s artillery crews, and three wagons, one
of which held four medicants, including Diera Beynom. Carnigan was there. He seemed
to take it all in stride and looked perversely happy at the prospect of killing
Narthani. Maera surprised Yozef when she collared Carnigan and Wyfor Kales,
Yozef’s instructor on blade fighting, and in Yozef’s presence told them in no
uncertain terms to be sure her husband got back in one piece. It wasn’t quite
explicit but sounded to Yozef as if she got the message across to come back
with him or not at all. Carnigan grinned and Kales grunted. Yozef felt
reassured.

Well,
maybe she does care about me. Or doesn’t want to bother with a replacement.

Yozef
didn’t expect a demonstrative farewell from Maera. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Take
care of yourself, Yozef. Listen to Carnigan and Wyfor, and don’t get yourself
killed.” With a hug and a quick kiss, she left, never looking back.

He
was afraid, frustrated, and guilty: afraid of finding himself once more pulled
into a battle; frustrated that as much as he wanted to bid the party good
fortune and run home, he was trapped by expectations of how he should behave;
and guilty at the thought of sending the artillery crews he’d organized and
trained to fight without him.

When
satisfied everything was ready, Denes asked Abbot Sistian to lead the hundreds
of family and friends seeing them off in a prayer for their safe return. They
left, keeping a steady pace without pushing the horses too hard, and reached
Caernford well after midnight. Yozef made the ride, he and Seabiscuit bracketed
by Carnigan’s and Wyfor’s horses, never noticing the aching rear buffered by
adrenaline.