The Chronicles: Notomol Ch. 05

NOTOMOL Chapter 5

Journal Entry #38, Winter, 937

The arrival of the guslar Adrastas has changed everything. His renditions of the old songs and stories have given us all new hope. He is also a composer of original works, which is very encouraging to me, personally.

He has read my account of what happened at Dusova, and seems to believe that it could be made into a moving song. The thought that my tale could become famous fills me with elation. I wonder, though, if it should not be spoken, rather than sung. Obran, the apprentice, is already working on the music that will accompany it.

I had always heard that the guslars of Stonje were odd. Their gusle, for one thing, have two strings instead of one. The sound is unusual, but not unpleasant. It simply requires a little more effort on the part of the listener to become accustomed to.

***

It was wonderful to have a guslar among us. People looked forward to his stories and songs. He performed many of the old favourites, of course, including Borna's Bucket and the Long Ride. But he also sang a little known song by Noyemi, the wife of the guslar Imants, that left many in tears afterwards.

There were fewer complaints about food for the next few days.

Adrastas also sang his own newest composition, a song called 'Dienik's Steading'. It told of our ambush on the Izumyrian soldiers, followed by the attack led by Nelime and Orsho. It was strange... those events seem so far away, now - as if they happened a long time ago. I was there, and now it was a song.

Motekin spent much of his time with the guslars. Doreg and Dubek were gone. The brothers hunted together, while I worked mostly with Aunam. He was a fine fellow - just not much for conversation.

Dusca had taken to joining Senderra and Evane the moment they returned from hunting. It was good to see them becoming friends, and I supposed that the big spear-woman helped to keep Vidrik away.

But it did leave me few opportunities to spend any time with Senderra myself. I know - it was probably complete foolishness on my part. What could she possibly see in a 16 year-old dwarf? I just hoped that she wouldn't forget about me entirely. Perhaps when I was older...

Notomol of course, was surrounded by people all day long. He had remarkable energy, and even more patience - I would probably have lost my mind if I had to answer the same questions over and over again.

Somehow, he always found the time to come by, every few days, to compliment Aunam and me for the work we were doing. That's why I began trying not to bother him in the evenings. I thought that he deserved at least a few moments to himself.

That's why what happened wasn't... well, it wasn't something that I'd planned.

Motekin was with the guslars. Cinna and Cirola hadn't returned. Senderra was laughing at something Dusca had said. Aunam, my hunting partner, had yet to speak to me.

I suppose that I was experiencing just a little melancholy. Or maybe I was feeling sorry for myself. I took my blanket, and moved away from the thronging mass of people. It might not seem so to you, if you came from Hvad town, but to a forester like me, 150 is a crowd.

It was a relatively mild night, and there was no wind to speak of, this deep in the woods. I put my back to a tree, and just listened to the forest. Even then, it was oddly quiet.

The reason for that, of course, was that there were other people nearby. I sensed, rather than saw, the slightest of movements. I slowly - ever so slowly - turned my head.

And there they were. Notomol and Nelime.

They were standing very close together, face to face. She reached out, slowly, to touch his cheek. Notomol leaned forward, until his forehead was pressed against hers.

It was a very private, very intimate moment - and I should not have been there. I couldn't even move, for fear of disturbing them.

Nelime turned her head slightly, and their lips touched...

That was when I carefully gathered my blanket and slid away from my tree, putting it between them and me.

***

I was pleased for them. Better than that - I was happy. It would be good if they could find a moment of comfort together, in the midst of war and privation... especially those two, who bore all of the responsibilities of leadership and expectation. They deserved it.

Yes, it also reminded me of how alone I was. But hadn't I always been alone? And weren't there scores of people relying on me, too?

Or perhaps I wasn't so alone as I thought.

- "There you are!" said Senderra. "Where have you been, lately?" It was about a week after I'd seen Notomol and Nelime.

- "Me?"

- "I know that you've been busy, lately." she said. "But too busy for your old friends?"

- "Uh... well, you've had Dusca join you... I didn't want to bother the three of you."

Senderra looked confused. "There are four sides to a fire, Kolasovets. And four corners after that. You're always welcome with us, no matter who else is there. You know that."

- "Right. Yes."

- "Or are you jealous of Dusca?" she asked. Senderra grinned, mischievously. "Wait - you're not sweet on Dusca, are you? And just too shy to approach her?"

I had to laugh at that - just as she'd intended. Dusca was a giant of a woman, and I... I was short. The thought of the two of us together was ludicrous.

"We miss you. Well, Evane won't say so out loud - but trust me - she does."

-"I... ah -"

- "You know who else misses you, Kolasovets?" said Senderra.

I held my breath. My chest was suddenly very tight.

"My brother."

That wasn't the answer I'd been hoping for, at that moment. But it was a surprise.

- "H - he does?"

- "You're his best friend. He asks me how you are, because he never gets to see you anymore. Are you deliberately avoiding him? Is it because there's always somebody else with him?"

- "Uh... maybe."

- "Then stop it." said Senderra. "He needs your support now, more than ever."

Strange, that: I'd never considered what Notomol needed - only what I did.

- "I didn't think... that he needed my help."

Senderra rolled her eyes. "He needs us all. You and I are among the very few he can trust - absolutely trust, I mean."

Then she smiled again. "But it's great about him and Nelime - don't you think?"

***

Izumyrian reprisals drove more people into the hills, and into the forests and bogs. The steadings were full of soldiers, who strutted about like peacocks. Food was stolen, and women were harassed, or even violated. Many Hvadi moved away from their hamlets, and their homesteads.

The soldiers had stopped paying for food at all. Farmers no longer brought their produce to the steadings - why would they, when there was no one to buy from them?

The Izumyrians had hundreds of men to feed. They spread their nets wider, and began requisitioning (stealing) food from every farmer they could find. More farmers fled - there was less food to steal - the occupiers began plundering ever more widely...

The cycle grew ever more vicious. Farms were deserted, and the enemy became more and more an army of oppressive tax collectors, thieves, and rapists.

The grapevine was still active, of course. People in Stonje knew that Notomol and Nelime were actively fighting the invaders. They came looking for us.

Some came to join us in resisting. Some came because they didn't know where else to turn. And, of course, some came because they were absolutely desperate.

Notomol performed wonders, but Nelime became the most important person in our camp. She was a known entity; people asked to speak to her, and they trusted her to look after them.

She was also remarkably good at connecting people and names. She immediately identified two collaborators - Hvadis serving the Izumyrians, only pretending to be refugees so that they could tell their masters where we were.

Notomol took them, by night, to Ansil's steading, and left them hanging within sight of the main gate.

But we were very nearly overwhelmed by the influx of people into the forest. Forty-two more non-combatants; only seven more that we could recruit as potential fighters - fortunately, three of those could use a bow.

I had to go further and further afield, in search of game. In the process I found a few unusual locations that even Notomol didn't know all that well. I told him of the things I'd seen, and the spots that might prove to be useful to us.

- "Good to know." he said. Then he placed his hand on my shoulder. "Don't stray too far away, Kolasovets. I need you near, whenever you can spare the time."

***

I grew up that winter. Not physically (well, perhaps an inch, or an inch and a half) - but I realized that I was one of the most important people in camp. Notomol relied on me. Senderra knew my worth. Yadha Snakehand patted me on the back. Even Nelime smiled whenever she saw me.

It was a difficult time, though. I certainly preferred hunting to fletching arrows. Now there were scores of people who could make arrows for me - but only a few who could find food for our forest steading. And there were so many people relying on us. I hated to come home empty-handed.

Old folk died. So did a few children. It tore at my heart, but I was already doing all that I could to provide food.

When the spring arrived, I felt the stirrings of a new hope, just as everyone else did.

Adrastas performed a new song. It was unlike anything I'd ever heard before. Obran played the tune, and Adrastas sang, in his rough, raspy voice.

Wind and water, 'pon the stone... Wear them down, wear them down

Leave their bones to feed the land... Wear them down, wear them out

Borna's like will walk again...

***

Notomol had ideas. Vidrik was urging action - attack. But we still had hundreds to feed. In the last few weeks of winter, and the first few days of spring, we had another two dozen non-combatants come to us, and four more fighters.

We needed food. So much food. Yet Vidrik was preaching the need to strike a blow - to hit back at the Izumyrians. I wanted to kick him in the crotch - he hadn't lifted a finger to feed anyone.

Orsho looked to Nelime - who looked to Notomol - but he wasn't ready to provoke a confrontation. There was plenty of simmering, though, most of which I'd missed because I was away hunting almost every day.

And then Doreg returned. Dubek was there, with both of their friends, and eleven new men from Hvad town.

Doreg had recovered from his wound, and the fever which followed it. Notomol welcomed him like a long-lost brother.

- "You're better!"

- "And you look thinner." said Doreg.

- "It's all we can do to keep ourselves fed." said Notomol. "What news, though? What's going on in Hvad town?"

- "The castle still holds out. The Duchess is... just as proud as her husband was. She may be wilful, and headstrong, but there's no question of her spirit. We just hope that she'll rely on Tregarev and old Prosquetel for advice."

- "Is it a strong place?"

- "The walls are stout, and it can't be approached on two sides, because of the lake. The Izumyrians have no siege engines, in any case. Unless they can find a traitor inside, there's not much they can do except besiege it, and try to starve the defenders out."

- "And they will." growled Dubek. "It'll fall, eventually."

- "What about the town?" asked Notomol.

- "There are too many Izumyrian soldiers about." said Doreg. "They're still reasonably well-behaved, but you can see their frustration. They're like chained dogs. If their commanders ever let them loose, there could be blood in the streets."

- "Everyone's talking about Stonje, though." said Dubek. "Yeseriya, a little, too - apparently there's been some fighting up there as well."

That was my home province. I would have loved to hear more, but that was all they knew. Rumours, stories - many of them probably untrue.

- "The Izumyrians claimed that they'd defeated some rebels in Stonje - that they'd killed over a hundred of them." said Doreg.

- "And no one says a word about Baron Harke. It's like he never existed." said Dubek, with a grin. "Except for the pamphlets pinned to the walls in the marketplace: 'Where is Baron Harke?', they say. And one of the guslars came up with a lovely little song:

Baron Harke had a hundred men,

He marched them into Stonje

And never came back again."

- "Simple, but effective." said our guslar, Adrastas.

- "You'll have to hear Adrastas." said Motekin. "He has a song about Dienik's steading."

Doreg's new men were introduced around, and we found some food for them.

- "One more thing." said Doreg, to Notomol. He lowered his voice a little. "Some of the Izumyrian lords went home, just before the winter. And several more are preparing to leave. They don't want to sit around for a long siege. Or they're unhappy about the division of the spoils. There are said to be quarrels among the leaders."

Notomol looked thoughtful. "How many men does that involve? Any idea?"

- "Two thousand. Maybe three." said Doreg. "That's the good news."

- "Is there bad news?"

- "The Northern Duke - Beghel - is bringing in mercenaries to replace them."

- "Mercenaries?" said Notomol. "Is he so rich, that he can afford to pay them?"

Doreg shook his head. "The word is... that he plans to squeeze the money out of Hvad."

***

Four days later, Vidrik made his move. That's to say, he had his friends Adser and Bakhva make a move for him.

Notomol, Nelime, and Orsho were sitting with Doreg, Dubek, and half a dozen other important men, including Vidrik. Yadha Snakehand was present, as were the guslars and Motekin - and me.

Adser and Bakhva strode into the firelight. We were all sitting, so naturally they looked down upon us.

- "There needs to be a change in leadership." said Bakhva.

Adser sneered at Notomol. "Who made you leader in the first place, anyway?"

Orsho immediately stood up. So did Dubek.

- "I did." they said, almost simultaneously.

- "Not this again." said Nelime.

- "I'm afraid so, Lady." said Vidrik. "It can't be avoided any longer." He stood up. "I can no longer agree with Notomol's timid strategy. It's time for action - and that requires a man of action. Not a boy."

That was when I noticed half a dozen of Vidrik's closest friends nearby. They made supportive noises. It wasn't quite a cheer - more like grunts and rumbling.

Vidrik wanted some kind of dramatic moment. Nelime denied him that.

- "Fine." she said, in a tired voice - almost as if she was bored. "Do we have to vote? Is that it? I vote for Notomol."

- "Of course you would support your lover." said Vidrik. He couldn't help himself - he had to sneer, too.

- "You'd best stop there." said Orsho. "Or you and I will have more than words."

- "Lady Nelime is twice-widowed." said Adrastas. "It is not for you to judge her. Nor does a 'man of action' comment on the private lives of others."

The old guslar was an important man. Vidrik may not have realized it, but he had just forfeited the support of someone who could truly have helped him. But the warrior seemed undeterred.

- "You have a chance, here: acknowledge me as leader, so that we can strike mighty blows against the invaders. Or stick with this weakling - and I will be forced to leave, with my men."

No one said anything, for a moment. Then Notomol stood up.

- "We've disagreed, from time to time. You want to be more aggressive." said Notomol. "But I will not loot or plunder our own people. I understand that the goal is to fight the enemy. But not by adopting the enemy's methods."

- "Then I must leave." said Vidrik, repeating his ultimatum. "And my men with me."

No one said a word. I couldn't help myself, though.

- "I wish you'd left months ago." I said. "We fed you and yours through the winter, and you didn't do a damned thing to help. I don't remember a single word of thanks, either."

Vidrik didn't know how to respond to that. He blustered. "Be silent, little man - you don't know what you're talking about."

- "Oh, I think he has you pegged." said Dubek, who grinned at me.

- "Then I must leave." said Vidrik.

We might have spoiled Vidrik's dramatic confrontation - but he certainly ruined things for us. He'd been talking all through the winter, criticizing Notomol, talking to people... not the non-combatants, of course - only the fighting men.

Vidrik left with 40 fighters, and three of the young women.

***

That left us with only 56 fighters. Yet we still had almost 140 non-combatants to feed. The archers couldn't be in two places at once. Fight? Or hunt?

Vidrik and his band did us no favours. Shortly after leaving us, they fell upon an Izumyrian party foraging for grain and livestock. Vidrik's men killed ten soldiers, and made off with the stolen food.

But the attack took place only a few scant leagues from our hidden camp. The Izumyrians were certain to come looking. It was the kind of attention that Notomol had always worked hard to avoid.

As Yadha Snakehand had put it: 'You don't shit where you eat'. Now he had something else to say: "They left a great stinkin' turd, right on our doorstep."

We had to move our camp. We would probably have had to do so soon, anyways, because we'd exhausted most of the game for leagues around. It was frustrating, though.

I hadn't seen Senderra, or Yadha, or even the brothers for a week. Every day, Aunam and I went out to hunt. It was probably more difficult for him than for me: Aunam had met a young widow among our non-combatants. I had to wonder: had he actually spoken to her?

It had to be frustrating for Notomol, too. The archers he sent out to hunt included virtually all of our best scouts and pathfinders. Without scouts, any move by the fighters would be extremely dangerous.

After Vidrik's attack, several hundred Izumyrian soldiers poured into our area, searching for us. Notomol couldn't risk a move while we were effectively blind. Scout? Or eat?

Then we heard news of Vidrik again. He'd caught the Izumyrians in the process of rebuilding Dienik's steading. The enemy were camped out in the open, in tents, while they were felling trees to rebuild the palisade.

Vidrik's band attacked by night, and killed more than twenty of the invaders. It was a notable success. Most of our fighters were jealous; many wished that they could have been there.

Doreg and Dubek did catch a group of Izumyrians while they were foraging. They killed three, and captured two. Notomol questioned the prisoners, and then released them - after severing their big toes.

The spring was well advanced, and the weather was growing noticeably warmer, when two new men reached us. They were friends of Doreg, and they'd come from Hvad town.

- "Elar? Aare?" Doreg was more surprised than any of us to see these two young men. "I thought... I thought you were going to stay in town."

- "The castle fell, Doreg." said Elar. "The garrison surrendered. But the Izumyrian victory was spoiled. The Duchess was gone! She wasn't there anymore. And old Prosquetel, too. They say she escaped the siege during the winter - crossed the frozen lake during a snowstorm."

- "Good for her!" said Dubek.

- "Told you she had spirit!" said Doreg.

- "How many surrendered?" asked Notomol.

- "Less than 70 men. Tregarev was taken off in chains - they say he's to be taken to Izumyr."

- "Still - it's a great story." insisted Doreg.

- "Worthy of a song." said Adrastas, our guslar.

- "That it is, Sir." said Elar. "There were several songs - and they were making the rounds of Hvad town the day after the surrender."

Something about Elar's tone warned me: this tale didn't end happily.

"The Izumyrians were angry. Embarrassed. They killed an old man who laughed aloud, in the street. Then they arrested three of the leading guslars in town, and... they hanged them."