The Chronicles: Notomol Ch. 05

There was absolute silence in our little forest glade. Every one of us was trying to grapple with the unthinkable: they hanged three guslars.

They murdered poets. Story-tellers. My mind reeled at the implications. The Izumyrians weren't just here to take our land... to steal our food, to attack women... they were here to destroy us.

Dubek growled, deep in his throat. It was a good thing that we didn't have any Izumyrian prisoners in camp; it would have gone ill with them.

Adrastas was absolutely stunned. So was Obran, his apprentice.

- "This has to be answered." said Motekin. He spoke very softly, but everyone heard him.

***

There was more, of course. There's always more. Elar told us the next morning.

- "The Izumyrians are angry." he repeated. "There were many in the town who feared that would be a massacre. But the invaders are furious and embarrassed all at once. They're desperate for some kind of success - a victory."

- "A victory?" said Doreg. "Against who?"

A moment later, he realized the answer to his own question.

"Us?"

Elar nodded, slowly. "They're sending a new army into Stonje. 500 mercenaries."

- "Five hundred?"

- "How they goin' to feed so many?" asked Yadha. "There's already near that many here as it is."

- "The regular soldiers will be withdrawn." said Elar. "The mercenaries will take over. The Northern Duke's son is in command - Meldoi. But it's a command in name only. The real leader will be the mercenary captain, Arnger."

- "Mercenaries." said Orsho. He made a face. As a former Hand, he'd always served out of loyalty, for the oaths he'd sworn. How could he understand men who fought for money?

***

Journal Entry #42, Spring, 938

The mercenaries have arrived.

Most of the Izumyrian soldiers have been withdrawn. The wolves have slunk away, their tails between their legs. But as they departed, Stonje was invaded by a plague of two-legged locusts, who are immeasurably worse.

These men kill for the sport of it. They torture people to force them to reveal the location of hidden food or coin. We have heard of instances where they murdered children, for the sole purpose of compelling the parents to give up their treasures.

They loot, and rape - no female is safe.

The main path to the Ban's steading has been stripped bare. Most of the people have fled; only the dead remain. Every hamlet, every village along the way is now empty of life: the inhabitants killed, or driven into the forests and the hills, the livestock slaughtered or taken. What they could not carry away, the mercenaries destroyed.

They set fire to empty homes, to barns and byres. Nothing was left behind them, save smoking ruins. It was worse than anything we could have imagined. Terrified and traumatized refugees have poured into the forest, and every single one has a horrific tale to relate.

A farmer was said to have murdered his own children, after being forced to watch his wife being raped. We have heard of children lined up against a cowshed, while the mercenaries fired arrows and threw axes at them... and made wagers upon the outcome.

Yes, the mercenaries have archers. They also have mounted units, who move at speed, and arrive before anyone can react. Neighbouring hamlets, though, could sometimes hear the screams. If they were fortunate, they might be warned by a column of smoke, with just enough time to gather up their children and flee before the mercenaries reached them.

The most-travelled parts of Stonje are a wasteland. A desert. The corpses lie unburied.

Only the buzzards and the crows have prospered.

***

It made no sense to me. Why destroy everything? What would the mercenaries themselves eat, once they'd consumed all of their plunder? What did they plan to eat over the winter? The only conclusion I could reach is that they didn't expect to be here next year.

Notomol had his hands full. Forty people came to us, looking for shelter; only five of them were willing and able to fight. Yes, it meant more hands for gathering, but there was precious little to gather this spring.

Over the next week, another eighty refugees found us. Eleven of them proved capable of fighting. But fighters aren't hunters. Nor are archers necessarily skilled at tracking and bringing down game.

Notomol had taken to pairing experienced hunters with archers (some of whom were semi-skilled at best). Aunam and I were split up; I found myself working with a young woman named Inita.

She was dark, with black hair and nut-brown skin, tanned from a life spent working in the fields. Inita was keen, energetic and quick-witted. She didn't complain about becoming my partner, so I had hopes that we could work together.

I did wonder if Notomol had assigned her to me so that she would be 'safe'. An older hunter might have been tempted to 'test her boundaries', so to speak. Or perhaps he thought that a male archer might balk at taking instruction from a stripling like me.

Inita was no hunter, though. Nor, as I soon discovered, was she an archer, either.

Two of her first three shots weren't even close. We had little hope of finding either shaft - the underbrush was too thick, and she simply had no idea where her arrows had gone.

I sat down, next to the scrawny groundhog I'd shot, and invited her to join me. She came and sat down, cross-legged, all the while avoiding looking me in the eye.

- "May I see your bow?" I asked.

She hesitated, but then passed it over. It would have been rude to refuse my polite request. Her weapon was old, and not particularly powerful. It also bore scorch marks, as if someone had dropped it in a fire.

"Where did you find this bow?" I asked her.

Inita didn't look up. "It belonged to my grandfather."

- "How many times have you used it?"

- "What?"

- "How many times have you shot an arrow, Inita?" I asked. I didn't shout, or even raise my voice.

She still couldn't meet my eye.

- "Twenty-five. Maybe thirty. I had eight arrows, to begin with, but once I'd lost the fourth, I stopped practicing."

- "How did you acquire this bow? It was only recently, I take it."

Inita raised her head. She glared at me, but she didn't speak.

"I think that you should tell me." I said. "I mean, if we're to be partners, it would help if we were honest with each other - don't you agree?"

Now she stared at me. Then she let out a deep breath.

- "I was gathering dandelions when I heard the horses." she said. "I saw the mercenaries, on those enormous horses. For some reason, I didn't run back to our house. I still don't know why I didn't. Instead, I ran into the woods."

"I crouched behind a tree." said Inita. "I couldn't see much. But I could hear. I heard my husband's mother scream. I also heard the sound of swords - or an axe, maybe - striking flesh... and bone."

I didn't know what to say. I'd initially felt that Inita was attempting to deceive me - I hadn't even begun to think about why she might want to do so.

- "They killed my husband, and his father. They raped his mother and his sister, and then killed his mother, too. They carried off his sister - no doubt so that they could rape her again, later. I hid in the woods until they'd gone. I didn't come out until it was dark. After that, I went through the trees, back to my family's home."

"They were all dead, too. My parents, my brother, my grandparents. I found grandfather's old bow, and eight arrows. It belongs to me, now. Wouldn't you agree?"

I felt like a proper fool.

- "I'm sorry, Inita. I only wondered... why you had a bow, when it was plain that you had so little experience with it." Then I took a deep breath, and came to a decision. I passed her back her grandfather's bow.

"If you'd like... I could help you learn how to use it."

Now I understood why Notomol had accepted so many non-combatants, so many refugees. How could he not?

Suffering is not a competition. Nor is there some sort of higher claim to justice. If I could support Cinna and Cirola, or Aunam, I could hardly despise Inita's desire to fight back.

No one would punish Inita for pretending to be an archer. But she would never get the chance to become one. She wanted to fight - just as Senderra and Evane had wanted to join our band, when there were only five of us.

I could turn my back on her - or I could help her.

- "The first thing you have to do," I said, "is to breathe. Then you should probably watch where your arrow goes."

***

- "Damn it, Notomol!"

Senderra lost her temper before I did. She and Evane remained a team, but they'd been worked to exhaustion. Most of the hunters were asleep on their feet.

"You can't just take in the entire population of Stonje!" she shouted. "We can't feed them all. We can't protect them, either. If the mercenaries do come, all of our archers will be leagues away, hunting. Hunting all day, every day! What happened to fighting the invaders?"

Notomol slowly shook his head. "We can't just turn them away, Senderra. We have to protect our people."

- "We can barely feed them - how can we protect them, if we're attacked?"

We were all there: Doreg and Dubek, Nelime and Orsho, old Yadha, the brothers, Motekin and me... and Adrastas the guslar. All around us were fighters and non-combatants.

It wasn't an ambush: Senderra had already told her brother what she thought, in private. I suspected that a few others had, too. Many people had seen this storm coming. They wanted to know what would be decided.

Adrastas stood up now - slowly, with creaking joints and a pained expression on his face.

- "You must not criticize your brother, Senderra." he said. "He labours tirelessly, for the good of all."

There was a rumble of approval from many of the people listening.

'However..." said the old story-teller, "the point is valid: we cannot feed so many, and still protect them at the same time."

I saw that Notomol wanted to object, but he had too much respect for the guslar to interrupt him.

"Here is the question, then: the wolves are abroad. Are we shepherds? Sheep-dogs? Or should we sally forth, and slay the wolves?"

It was a good question.

Notomol allowed everyone a chance to speak. At first, no one wanted to. I understood that some were reluctant to agree with Senderra; they didn't want to seem to be criticizing Notomol. But where were the voices of those who supported him? I thought that Nelime might speak, but she didn't. By this point, most everyone knew that they were lovers.

Doreg stood up.

- "I'm not from Stonje." he said. "So maybe my opinion doesn't count for much. But I wonder... would it be possible to do both? I mean, the hunters could continue to provide food. But I'm wasted, this way. So are many of the fighters."

- "Worse than wasted." said Dubek. "The guslar had it right: we're sheep-dogs. But we're tied to a post. The Izumyrians have all of the advantages: they can attack where they want, when they want."

Senderra spoke again. "We're protecting some of the people. But the mercenaries are killing and looting all over Stonje. We aren't doing a bit of good for those people. If we took the fight to the enemy, they'd have their hands full. And every one of them that we kill would mean one less murderer and rapist loose in Stonje."

Even Dusca voiced her opinion. "You've performed wonders so far." she said. "That you've sheltered and fed so many people is a tremendous achievement. But I fear that more and more people will continue to come, until it's no longer possible to support their numbers."

Notomol looked around, trying to gauge the mood of those who hadn't spoken. He glanced at Cinna and Cirola, and then at me. I took a breath, and exhaled slowly. I wanted to stand up and agree with Senderra - but I just couldn't do that to Notomol.

- "Yadha?" said Notomol.

- "Somethin's gotta give." said Snakehand.

- "Orsho?"

The warrior shook his head. He obviously didn't want to weigh in.

- "Speak your mind, Orsho." said Nelime. "Please."

Orsho thought about it for a moment. Perhaps he was choosing his words carefully.

- "I have to agree with Dubek. This band isn't built to defend a fixed position. We can't go toe to toe, or shield to shield against the Izumyrians - unless it's on a very small front, on ground of our choosing. With archers supporting us."

One of the non-combatants spoke up. "People will starve, if you stop helping us." Two more stood up, to echo that fear. "We can't go back to our homes - the mercenaries will kill us." said another.

Then an older woman named Gaida raised her voice. "So you want to abandon us, do you?" She glared at the fighters. "You'll run away now, and leave us at the mercy of these invaders."

No one dared to answer her.

With a heavy sigh, Orsho rose to his feet again. He looked the old woman in the eye.

- "Your Ban abandoned you, Mother Gaida. So did your Hospodar. And another Hospodar has gone into hiding, while his sons rushed off to make friends with the Izumyrians. Only his daughter had the courage to stand up and fight."

Orsho pointed at Notomol. "Just like this man, here. And men and women like him. They've killed your enemies, and they've risked their lives. They've shed blood to fight the invaders. But you want them to do that while they feed you and protect you."

No one interrupted. The warrior was obviously in the grip of some powerful emotions. He'd built his life on loyalty and service, only to see the men he'd served run away from their responsibilities at the first sign of danger.

"How many of you paid your taxes to Notomol?" he said. "Who here has pledged fealty to him?" There was no answer, of course. "Yet you expect him to serve you?"

Orsho lowered his head. "I know that many of you have lost family. Believe me - I know. But Notomol is not your son, or your husband. He isn't your father, either. He's just a man who fights the Izumyrians. You should be helping him - not tying his hands."

Orsho was the last speaker. It would have taken a brave man to follow that speech. Notomol let the silence linger for a time, before he finally stood up.

- "Thank you." he said. "I suggest that we take one more day, to think about we've heard here tonight. If anyone changes their mind, they can be among the first to speak tomorrow night. And then we'll decide."

***

- "Why didn't you speak, last night?" asked Inita.

It was a rare day, because we weren't hunting. I'd taken advantage of the lull, though, to teach her how to shoot a bow, and let her practice - somewhere that she couldn't lose any more of her arrows. I'd miscalculated, though: she still managed to lose two.

- "No one wants to hear what I think." I said.

- "Of course they do. Everyone says that you're one of the very best hunters. And you've been with Notomol from the very beginning, haven't you? If anyone should be listened to, it's you."

I was flattered to hear Inita say that. I wanted to explain myself, but first, I asked a question.

- "What do you think, Inita?"

- "Me?" She frowned. "I agree with Senderra. You can't feed all these people and fight at the same time. Whenever you try to do two things at once, you usually make a mess of both."

I had to laugh.

"What's so funny?" she said.

- "You should have spoken last night - that makes perfect sense."

- "Are you making fun of me?"

- "No. I agree with you - and with Senderra. But Notomol is my best friend. I didn't want to embarrass him."

- "You should tell him privately, then."

She was right again. So I did. I told our leader, the man I'd chosen to follow, that I agreed with his sister. It didn't take a seer to realize that we couldn't continue this way. Dubek and Orsho had hit the nail on the head. When it came to fighting the enemy, we were no longer the hunters - we were the prey. I repeated Inita's words of wisdom.

- "Then I remembered something you said." I continued. "You told Senderra that the Izumyrian atrocities weren't just retaliation - and that if we do nothing, then they win. You said that they would hold our families hostage until we submitted."

Notomol nodded. Then he reached out, to put his hand on my shoulder. "Thank you, Kolasovets. I don't know how I forgot that."

- "You've been preoccupied."

- "We all have." Then he smiled, ruefully. "You could have said this last night, you know."

- "No - I needed the time you gave us to think it over. I don't think that I could have put my thoughts into words, last night."

When we gathered again, Notomol asked if anyone wanted to speak. He waited for a while, but no one had anything new to say.

- "I spoke to a number of people today." he said. "I also had time to reflect, and to consider what was said last night. I've come to the conclusion that my sister was right. Dubek, Orsho and Dusca were right, too. Then Kolasovets told me what one of our archers had said. When you try to do two things at once, you often make a mess of both." Notomol smiled, and looked out at the crowd around the fire. " Thank you, Inita." he said.

That was part of his secret, with people. Notomol listened, and remembered. And then he acknowledged the contributions of others. After this, I had no doubt that Inita would be willing to run through a fire for him.

- "Many of you recognized our dilemma some time ago." he said. "I'm sorry that it took me so long to see it."

Notomol then explained his new plan to us. It left us stunned. Obviously, he'd been considering the problem for some time, and had already come up with several ways of dealing with it.

First, Yadha Snakehand would lead the non-combatants higher into the hills, and deeper into the woods. He would remain with them, temporarily, to help them get established. The people would have to spread out, so that they could support themselves by hunting, trapping, and gathering.

Second, Notomol would ask the hunters and archers to make a choice. They could accompany the non-combatants, or remain with the fighters.

It wasn't a perfect solution. Many people would go hungry. Some would weaken, and die. The next winter would probably be even harder - and it would be hardest on the elderly and the children, as it always was. But if the fighters were to have their hands free, something like this had to be done.

Over the next few days, everyone made their own decisions. Aunam chose to go with the non-combatants, to stay with his new sweetheart. He'd had some measure of revenge, I suppose, and now chose to look to the future, rather than continuing to avenge the past.

I even heard the brothers, Cinna and Cirola, having an animated discussion. That was highly unusual: Cirola rarely spoke. They decided to remain with Notomol.

Twelve of our fighters, including two archers, decided to go deeper into the woods. Some 200 people followed Yadha, to find safer places. About two score, though, decided to go off on their own.

That left us with 57 fighters - including 17 archers - and two guslars.

***

It wasn't a simple matter of ambushing the nearest mercenaries. We needed information about their numbers and their whereabouts. Yadha had had many contacts, and most of the folk around the Hospodar's steading had been prepared to help us.

Now Yadha wasn't here, and the people were all gone: dead, or fled.

We sent out scouts - members of our band who knew the area well. Day after day they went out, and came back without having seen a living soul. One man found two chickens. Another saw a score of horsemen, riding towards the Ban's steading.

- "We have to find a new approach." said Dubek. "We won't be able to ambush them while they're foraging for food anymore."