The Pen and the Sword (Destiny's Crucible Book 2) (8 page)

“Gregor
Mendel was his full name,” said Yozef. “Diera, you and Sistian will be interested
that Mendel was a monk, a position among my people that’s similar to a
theophist. He also did scholastic studies.”

“Yes,”
Wallington gushed, “and this Mendel declared three laws of inheritance.
Naturally, since he discovered them first, we’ll keep his names.”

Wallington
and Yozef went on to describe Mendel’s laws of segregation, dominance, and independent
assortment. Diera listened carefully, but Maera was intense.

“That’s
all very interesting,” said Maera, “but it’s descriptive. It doesn’t tell us
how the essence of the color trait is transmitted. What
is
it that
confers color?”

“The
exact question I asked,” said Wallington, and all three turned to Yozef.

“Color
and all traits are conferred by what are called ‘genes.’ They’re tiny particles
within the pollen or the semen, which is how they’re transferred to the
female.”

“If
both male and female contribute, the female must also contain these particles
in her womb,” said Maera. “Does that mean that only one of the male or the female
has the particle for the trait, like pea color?”

Yozef
started his next words with the phrase he used to describe what he couldn’t yet
explain to the Caedelli. “As far as I remember, every person has two genes for
every trait. One gene comes from the mother and the other from the father. It’s
the combination that confers the final characteristic.”

“Of
course!” shouted Wallington. “That explains how Mendel’s three laws work and
how both parents contribute.”

Maera’s
scrunched her forehead, gnawing on a knuckle. “No, there’s still something
missing. The two pea colors might be explained by your Mendel’s laws, but not
all traits are so specific . . . countable. I don’t know an exact description of
what I’m thinking.”

Yozef
was impressed. He’d seen that Maera was clever and curious, but she had cut to
the heart of more advanced genetics.

“I
believe you’re getting to an important point. With pea color, we see only a
single gene pair, one gene each from both parents, which controls a trait, but
many traits involve multiple genes—two, five, or even more.”

“My
God,” said Wallington. “The complexity!”

They
continued for three hours, going over the pea experiments once more, then back
to discussing genes, Mendel’s laws, future pea experiments with more traits,
and equal contributions by both parents. Yozef didn’t introduce DNA, that some
traits involved thousands of genes, or that it was the female egg and not the
womb that provided genes from the mother. However, he came away with further
evidence that Maera Keelan was an intellect not to be underestimated.

Maera
Investigates the Raid

It
was several days before Maera saw Kolsko again. She busied herself with
intended library readings and studiously interviewed participants in the abbey’s
defense from the Buldorians.

Sistian
was of little help. As good an abbot as he was and as important an occasional
advisor to her father as he had been, the raid was his first direct experience with
life-and-death fighting on that scale. More informative was Denes Vegga, the
local magistrate and titular area military commander. He had organized the
defense, and for the first time, Maera got a clearer picture of Kolsko’s role. Vegga
had despaired at their chances of defending the abbey complex walls against so
many raiders. Two-thirds of the area’s fighting men had been away on routine
patrol or responding to a feint by the raiders on the neighboring Gwillamer Clan,
which Keelan was obligated to assist. He hadn’t thought there’d be any chance
of repelling the raiders until Kolsko’s suggestion to trick the Buldorians into
the abbey courtyard saved them all. There, the defenders stood behind hastily
thrown up barricades and fired from three sides into the knot of raiders pouring
through the main gate. Those raiders not felled in the initial volley had to
race to and fight over the barricade, while the defenders shot, stabbed, and hacked
at them. It had been short but vicious. Eleven defenders died behind the
barricades, but more than one hundred Buldorian bodies carpeted the courtyard.

The
rest of the raiders withdrew to the beach, possibly assuming the abbey’s
defenders more numerous than anticipated. Whatever their thinking, the
Buldorians reboarded their ships anchored offshore and sailed away.

Vegga
shook his head, still disbelieving they had survived.

Maera
made careful notes and drawings of Vegga’s description of the action; her
father would want as much detail as she could gather. He already had numerous
written and verbal reports, but he’d tasked her to prepare her own evaluations.

The
details of the battle itself were as different as the people she spoke with, as
all of them focused on what was right in front of them
[O1]
 
She’d wondered whether Yozef had martial
experience elsewhere on Anyar. How else would he have recognized how to defend
the abbey? There, information was sparse. Few had any recollection of Kolsko’s
role in the fighting, except impressions that he’d been at the barricade and
wielded a spear. The only direct comments she got were from an enormous man
named Carnigan Puvey, who implied that Kolsko had no familiarity with weapons
and had said sardonically that Yozef had helped defend Puvey at one point and
hadn’t killed anyone on their side.

After
searching for other witnesses to Kolsko’s role, she stumbled on a menacing-looking
man named Wyfor, who had not been present for the raid but had trained Kolsko
to blade fight months later.

“Oh,
I don’t doubt Yozef was essentially useless during the defense,” said Wyfor,
“but Carnigan says Yozef stood right there by his side, even though scared shitless.
Pardon my language. That tells you something. Shows you Yozef has guts or is
stupid, depending on how you view someone with no idea what he’s doing,
standing in front of charging Buldorians.

“It
was later when he came to me to learn how to defend himself. I don’t think he’d
ever touched a blade before, to do anything except use a knife at meals. I
thought him hopeless at first, but there was never any doubt about his
determination. I beat him something fierce for several months, but he kept
coming back.”

“So
he
did
learn to fight? He’s not as helpless now as you say he was?”

Wyfor
stared at her face for moments. She could almost see his mind evaluating what
to say next.

“I
didn’t say this to him, and you shouldn’t either. He learned faster than I
thought possible. There’s no substitute for real fighting, but he’s as
dangerous a person as possible for someone with no experience. Besides being
smart and determined, he’s fast and strong for his size. By the time we
finished, I would’ve had no hesitation fighting along with him. I didn’t praise
him too much to keep him worried, in case he ever gets into another situation
where even the littlest confidence could get him killed.”

Everything
Maera learned went into written reports for her father and a copy she kept.

Conclave
Hall, Outside of Orosz City

The
square stone building sat atop a hill a mile outside the old walls of Orosz
City. The only use of the structure was to house meetings of the clan leaders, once
a year for the mandatory All-Clan Conclave, and whenever a hetman called for
another meeting. In the latter case, attendance wasn’t required. The building’s
single room sufficed to hold twenty-one hetmen and two or three aides each.
That the Conclave Hall was not within the city proper signified that the Orosz
Clan had no special stature. The meetings had to be held somewhere. Orosz
Province was central enough, and the clan’s history neutral enough in past
conflicts for the hall to serve as a compromise location, when two centuries
earlier the clans had agreed to the site. Hetman Orosz served as the host to
start the meetings and, when necessary, attempted to cool ardor if discussions
became too heated among individual clans or factions. In return, Hetman Orosz
never took sides in disagreements.

The
meeting called by Hetman Keelan had just ended, with the Narthani threat to
Caedellium the only topic, as it had been in other meetings during the last
years, since the Narthani crushed the Preddi Clan and forced alliances with the
Selfcell and Eywell clans.

Culich
Keelan’s prediction that not all clan hetmen would attend came true: of the
eighteen clans not under Narthani control, twelve clans sent representatives,
including nine hetmen. Six hetmen gathered in a semi-circle around Orosz. The
other clan representatives had already left the room.

“Don’t
be too discouraged, Keelan. The tide is slowly turning to recognize the threat,”
said Cadoc Gwillamer. The hetman of the Gwillamer Clan could have used Culich’s
first name, their being leaders of allied clans and lifelong acquaintances, but
the custom at conclaves was to address only clan names. 

“But
slowly is the problem,” rejoined Keelan. “I’ll admit the turnout was better
than I feared it would be, but every instinct tells me time is running out to
convince the others.”

“We
have to work with what we have, not what we wished we had,” said Tomis Orosz. “You
know as well as any of us, Keelan, that there are some hetmen who will only
wake up when the Narthani are at their own doors.” While the Orosz hetman
maintained neutrality during conclave sessions, he wasn’t required to be
oblivious.

Without
intent, the seven hetmen stood in positions reflecting their relations. The
three members of the Tri-Clan Alliance, Keelan, Mittack, and Gwillamer, stood
beside one another. Facing them and separated by Orosz were Stent, Hewell, and
Adris. The last two were in the process of joining the Alliance, so their
presence was expected. Stent was of a like mind concerning the Narthani, but
the Stent Province was on the opposite side of the island and bordered Selfcell,
one of the Narthani client clans.

“Maybe
it’s because I feel so isolated,” said Welman Stent, “but I’m buoyed by
Bultecki and Farkesh coming around. While I know nothing is certain, I think
both will join in response to a serious Narthani move against other clans.”

“Bultecki,
certainly,” said Orosz. “However, Farkesh is north and would have to cross the lands
of clans not yet committed, so it’s difficult to see them sending aid.”

“Yes,”
said Keelan. “Still, that they support a united resistance is encouraging,
especially
Farkesh. Maybe they can influence Skouks and Vandinke.”

Those
three clans, along with Bultecki and Nyvaks, were descendants from the first
wave of colonists to Caedellium from the mainland continents five centuries
ago. Although their exact origin remained unknown, two centuries later a second
wave of colonists arrived from the Landolin continent. The original peoples on
Caedellium were slowly pushed northward, and cultural and attitude differences
were still evident in clans with descent from either of the two colonization waves.
In contrast, the clanspeople of Swavebroke were a mixture from both waves.

“If
that happens,” continued Keelan, “then Swavebroke would have to join, leaving
Pewitt no choice, because they could be surrounded by committed clans. As for
the three eastern clans, I think Bevans would join, as would Pawell, if they
could be assured that Nyvaks was no danger.”

“That
would be the most we could hope for.” Orosz looked around at the other six.
“Seaborne might want to help, but being on their islands off the western coast
and with the waters controlled by the Narthani, it’s hard to see them
contributing. As for Nyvaks, who knows what they would do, and who would trust
them?” Nyvaks Province connected to the rest of Caedellium by only a narrow
isthmus, and its solidarity to the other clans was just as tenuous.

The
hetmen stayed within their own thoughts about Nyvaks, until Keelan summarized,
“So, we think Moreland will likely be the next target, with eight, possibly
nine clans coming to Moreland’s aid.”

Stent
turned his head and spat onto the floor. “As much as it galls me to try to save
Moreland, we have to do it, no matter what any of us think of that ass, Gynfor
Moreland. If his clan falls, the Narthani will be in position to move in any of
several directions and could cut the island in two.”

Sour
expressions supported Stent’s fear.

“Then
let’s return home and do what we can to get ready,” said Keelan.

“And
pray,” said Orosz. “Pray that we’ve been too pessimistic and pray that the rest
of the clans come to their senses soon.”

“And
hope we don’t have to pray for a miracle from God,” ended Hewell.

Keelan
Manor, Caernford, Keelan Province

Culich
Keelan’s rear ached from the 180-mile carriage ride from Orosz City to
Caernford. He had pushed his drivers and escort, and they made it back in two
long days, stopping overnight at a Hewell village. As always, his wife, Breda,
waited on the manor’s front veranda. He had updated her on his progress via
semaphore before leaving Orosz City and at several semaphore stations en route.
When she saw the carriage, she rose and walked down the steps.

The
carriage hadn’t completely stopped in front of the manor when Culich stepped
out. In his rush to get off, he forgot and landed first on his bad leg. The
knee buckled, and Breda steadied him before he tumbled.

“Damn!
Too much in a hurry to get off my sore ass. Good thing you were here. Wouldn’t
do for people to see their hetman falling on his face.”

Breda
let go of his arm and hugged him. “Oh, they’d not worry, except to know you
were all right. I suppose coming inside and sitting is not likely?”

“Let
me stand for a few minutes, and then I’ll sit, but only on the softest cushion
we have. Even with the new seats you had made, after that many miles they still
felt like stone. I even rode a horse for a while, but that only lasted a few
miles until my knee made me stop. What I’d really like right now is a beer.”

“Then
come on in, and I’ll send Alindra to the deep cellar.”

They
entered the manor and walked arm in arm to the main parlor. She called and a
young woman appeared, listened to Breda, and scurried away. Culich leaned
against the back of one chair, while his wife sat opposite him.

“So,
don’t leave me in suspense. How did the conclave go?”

“Better
than I’d feared and worse than I’d hoped. While none of the staunch
isolationist clans wavered from that idiocy, there’s a firm commitment from
eight clans to come to the aid of anyone attacked. Most of us believe it’ll be
Moreland, so naturally Gynfor Moreland didn’t commit to helping any other clan.
He even boasted that Moreland could take care of itself and didn’t need help
from any other clan. I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he acted even
stupider than usual.”

Breda
thumped the chair arms with her fists. “God’s mercy! What about his boyermen?
Surely, some of them must feel differently. A hetman can always be replaced.”

“In
theory, yes, but lack of common sense seems to be endemic to too many of the
Morelanders. Rumors are that half of the boyermen would move against him, though
not enough to prevent fighting among factions, which would be disastrous. It would
give the Narthani the perfect opportunity to take Moreland during the turmoil.
No. We’re stuck with Gynfor Moreland. I find myself wishing he’d suffer some
fatal accident or illness and depart this world, God forgive me, though even
that might not help. His eldest son, Heilrond, is just as bad.

“Now
it’s back to Keelan business. Our boyermen meeting is next sixday. I’ll need to
get the summary of the last meeting from Mae . . .” Culich’s voice trailed off,
as he remembered Maera was at St. Sidryn’s.

“Yes,
dear, she’s still there, although it’s about time for her to return.” Breda
became pensive. “Now that I think of it, she hasn’t said in her last letters
when she planned on coming home. She only sent her usual sixday report of her
observations, plus letters to me and her sisters, nothing about her plans.”

“I’ll
write her. Now that I’m back, I can use her help, especially with the boyermen
meeting coming up. She’s been there long enough. I doubt there’s much left to
hold her there. I’m sure she’s eager to come home.”

Preddi
City, Narthani Headquarters

Sadek
Hizer drummed the fingers of his left hand on the wooden table, his lips
thinned and eyes glaring, although not at Akuyun, sitting opposite him in the
general’s office.

“I’d
thought we had a good chance to keep the clans from uniting, but the reports on
the hetmen meeting confirm at least six of the clans have committed to a common
defense. Neither of our agents could give details; however, it’s evident Keelan
pulled three to four other clans along.”

“We
expected that, didn’t we, Sadek?” Akuyun asked.

“Yes,
though not the surprises. The Orosz hetman came out in favor of the commitment,
something we were led to believe wouldn’t happen. The Caedelli custom has been
for Orosz to stay neutral in any discussion. He’s broken that custom and sided
with Keelan and Stent on a collective defense.

“What’s
just as disturbing is that Farkesh hinted he was leaning to joining. We’d
thought the northern clans would be the least likely to cooperate, there being
historical animosity between them and the southern clans. While we already
suspected Bultecki would break from the others, if Farkesh does, too, it’s only
a matter of time before the other northern clans join. That would only leave
the outliers, Pewitt, Nyvaks, and Pawell,” Sadek said in a disgusted grating
tone. “Not a satisfying outcome for the time and effort we put into trying to
divert the clans from uniting.”

“Now,
Sadek, it’s not like we were counting on our efforts to keep them apart. It was
always a secondary strategy.”

Akuyun
was right but was also pleased that Hizer took personally their failure to
subvert clan cooperation. It was a sign of Hizer’s commitment to the mission. Akuyun
believed himself fortunate to have an assessor of exceptional ability and one
willing to be incorporated into the mission’s areas of responsibility, even if
informally.

Although
the news disappointed Akuyun, he wasn’t discouraged. “No, Sadek, we might wish
the Caedelli make it as easy as possible for us, but it just means we’re back
to the basic plan. We will ratchet up our pressure on their coasts and the
neighboring clans and then launch a drive into their heartland with our troops.
If the clans hadn’t agreed to come to one another’s aid, we’d simply have
crushed Moreland and then moved on to Orosz. By cutting the island in half, the
time when they could have presented a united front would have been over. Now,
when we invade Moreland and other clans rush to help, it gives us the
opportunity to bring all of this to closure faster. If we can entice them into
an open field battle, their defeat will weaken multiple clans at the same time.
As a result, those clans and others not participating will be more likely to
come to terms. Either way, we succeed. It’s just a matter of the details and
timing.”

Hizer
sighed, then his eyes narrowed as he took in the mission’s commander. “No,
Okan, you’re right. I know I’m flagellating myself unnecessarily, though I also
wonder about our roles. I’m supposed to be the one giving you encouragement
when necessary, yet why do I feel it’s the other way around? Makes me wonder
sometimes if I’m doing the assignment I’m here for.”

“Nonsense.
Both of our tasks are to bring Caedellium into the empire. That we work well
together is a bonus for us both and is only good for the mission. Let’s put the
consequences of your agent’s report aside. One advantage is that now we don’t
have the distraction of multiple avenues forward. We’ll continue preparing our
men and, at the right moment, move to crush whatever force the Caedelli can
assemble.”

Akuyun
Family Villa, Preddi City

Okan
Akuyun arrived at his family’s villa, expecting a relaxing evening. He was
disappointed. His wife, Rabia, met him at the door, her mouth set and arms crossed
tightly in front of her.