The Chronicles: Notomol Ch. 08

NOTOMOL Chapter 8

PART TWO - This chapter introduces a new narrator who will be familiar to anyone who read 'The Three Sisters'.

Spring, 939

Someone was shaking me by the shoulder.

- "Guenna - time to get up."

My eyes snapped open. I saw Giedra looking down at me. The big blonde warrior seemed concerned. "You were mumbling in your sleep again."

- "Sorry."

- "Still thinking about your father?"

- "Probably."

We were two days out from the Vale of Nareven, and I was having third thoughts about my decision. I'd had second thoughts weeks ago, long before I'd left my family behind.

- "He'll get over it." said Giedra. "I thought you explained it all to him before we left?"

- "I did. But... he didn't take it all that well. I'm not sure that he understood."

- "Easier to put an arrow through a tree than to change that man's mind. Never met anybody so damn... difficult. Mind you - had I met him earlier, I'd probably be your stepmother now, instead of Sulcen."

- "You'd have had to share him with me, Giedra." said Rion, who was rolling up her blanket nearby. Rion still painted half of her face blue, and had a disturbing tendency to carry on conversations with her axe, but she - and Eliv, who was sitting close by - were good friends of Giedra's.

- "In your dreams, Rion." said Giedra. Then she looked back at me. "Speaking of dreams, though..."

I sighed. Giedra was like a dog with a bone. She wouldn't let go until I'd told her what was on my mind.

- "Alright. I'm worried that I let him down. He was disappointed - that's for sure. I don't know if he ever forgave his brothers for leaving the Uplands, to go serve the Niskadi Duke. He seemed to think that if they had stayed, then my mother and brother wouldn't have died..."

- "I know the story." said Giedra.

- "He said that Asphodels wasn't quite big enough for them, so I thought he might understand that I felt the same way about Nareven. Every time I looked around the Vale, I just couldn't... see myself there. You know that feeling."

- "Because I shared it. You and I both needed to leave, Guenna.

- "I know. I tried to tell him. Yevna had her hunting, and her friends, plus training new archers. Tanguiste will be the next headwoman..."

- "She already is."

- "Exactly. She also has a husband, and a child..."

- "And there weren't too many other eligible males around, either. Don't go looking at me like that - you know what I'm saying. I might not have been pining for your father if there'd been a few more like Vingoldas about!"

I blushed. My first - and only - lover so far was Gerimir, a Lowlander. I wasn't necessarily looking for another - and certainly not a husband - but Giedra was right: there weren't very many males in Nareven. Never mind appealing ones. Was I to wait in the Vale, hoping that the right man would someday come to join us?

I wanted to be... needed. If we weren't fighting, or being pursued by Izumyrians, then my talents (such as they were) wouldn't be in high demand. But there was more to it than that, too. The Duchess and her men - old white-haired Prosquetel and her lieutenant, Iduallon, had plotted to kill my father. Gerimir hadn't been involved; he was entirely too honourable, and too naive.

We probably should have killed them. That would have been just - and simple. I couldn't have done that to Gerimir, though. Besides, the Lowlanders were fighting the same enemy who had burned Asphodels, and then chased us through the mountains. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, goes the old saying.

But we Uplanders have a different saying: stay out of spitting distance. If your enemy is close enough to spit on you, then he's close enough to stab you. Keep your friends close, and your enemies at arm's length - or a little further, just to be safe.

There was also the possibility that other Lowlanders would come after us, seeking vengeance, if we had killed their Duchess. I never mentioned this to my father, because it might have influenced him in the wrong direction. Giedra was right: he was stubborn.

The way I saw it, if the Lowlanders left the Vale, they could fight the Izumyrians, and my father would be safe. Or safer. And if I went with them, I could use my skills to keep the invaders well away from my family.

- "To be honest, Giedra... I don't know which reason is the most important. All of them? I just felt that it was something I had to do."

- "We all have our reasons." said the blonde warrior. "Sometimes they match."

I nodded. Like me, Giedra found the Vale of Nareven too small. She hankered for action, and glory, to do deeds worthy of being sung by a guslar.

Rion and Eliv would follow Giedra. She was their lodestone.

There were 26 other Uplanders in our party: 14 men and 12 women. All of them had their own reasons for leaving with us. Red-headed Seva was following her lover, the Lowlander Iduallon. He was also the father of her child - though she'd left the babe in Nareven.

Seva had some things in common with Giedra and me, though. There was nothing to tie her down since my family had arrived on Prospal hill. Yevna had usurped her position as the best archer, male or female. Tanguiste had married Vingoldas, the man that Seva expected to be hers one day. And then her brother had been killed fighting Kestutis.

Odma was another man who had no reason to stay in the Vale. I didn't know if he sought adventure, or merely wanted to attach himself to a strong leader. Now he and Seva stayed close to the Lowlanders, declaring their allegiance by their physical proximity.

Giedra and I tended to keep our distance from the Duchess and her entourage. 'Don't want them to get the idea that we're at their beck and call' was how Giedra put it. 'Plus they annoy the shit out of me.'

That was certainly true. Duchess Temara treated everyone to the same imperious stare. She looked annoyed all the time, as if people weren't serving her fast enough, or they'd failed to anticipate her needs. She kept her infant son close at all times.

White-haired Prosquetel hovered near her, whispering in her ear. He also had a habit of studying people, as if he were looking for some kind of leverage. I didn't trust him any further than I could spit.

Then there was Iduallon, who certainly thought very highly of himself. He'd propositioned half of the women in our band, at one time or another. I'd had to fend him off, myself; Giedra had broken his wrist and his nose when he groped her. I was surprised that he kept at it, considering that Seva watched him like a hawk. Somehow, though, he always seemed to be able to slip away so that he could pour his sweet nothings into a new woman's ears. I suppose the lecher can't change his spots.

Finally, there was Gerimir. He wasn't clever, or vain and shallow. But he was naive. His loyalty to the Duchess was absolute. He'd tried, for a time, to balance that devotion to her with his love for me. He just wasn't very good at it. He'd been appalled to learn that the Duchess and Prosquetel were planning to murder my father - a man that Gerimir admired - but that couldn't shake the foundation he'd built his life upon.

- "C'mon, Guenna." said Giedra.

We broke camp quickly, because we weren't carrying anything beyond weapons and food - and a baby.

We continued on to the south, always with the looming bulk of the Three Sisters to our left. When we reached the lake, we followed the western side. The first hamlet we reached was Bentwood, the former home of my uncle Bacho, and my cousin Kestutis. The Izumyrians had burned the place, and killed quite a few people, but the survivors were rebuilding.

The same was true of Asphodels, a little further down the lakeshore. This was the village where my father and grandfather had been headman, where my sisters and I were born.

I turned us to the west. I had no desire to go back to the Bend, where my family had been betrayed, and where my mother and brother were murdered.

By the evening of the following day, we'd reached the fringes of the Uplands.

A grand total of four men had joined us.

- "Why so few?" complained Prosquetel.

- "The Izumyrians came through here last spring." I said. "They burned all along the lake. Before them, Bacho terrorized this area for years - plus he recruited most of the fighting men into his own band."

- "And we killed a lot of them." said Giedra.

- "Still..." said old White Hair. "These people should be rising for the Duchess. Didn't many of them fight for Borna?"

These people?

- "That was different." said Giedra. "Borna was a stranger, but he had a name: Borna Vrej. Borna Vengeance. And his enemies were unknown in the Uplands. But, now, your Duchess is the unknown quantity. And 'these people'? Well, they've met the Izumyrians. They have some idea what you're up against."

- "Hmmph."

That was Prosquetel's standard answer when he had no answer. He didn't care for what Giedra had said, but he had no reply except to grunt. It reminded me of something my father had told my sisters and me: "Disapproval means nothing. 'I don't like it' is meaningless. Why don't you like it? What are you prepared to do about it?"

At my suggestion, we turned south again, travelling slowly through the fringes of the Uplands, so that we could pick up information before blindly striking west into Mahuc.

- "But we will find support in Mahuc!" protested the Duchess.

- "Yes. Or we could run straight into Izumyrians." said Giedra. "In which case your grand adventure will be over very quickly."

- "A little caution might not go amiss, Your Grace." said Prosquetel, smoothly. "We cannot afford a reverse at this stage." He did some more whispering, which I couldn't hear. Eventually he persuaded her to stop making a nuisance of herself.

Uplanders might not be joining us in large numbers, and most went out of their way to avoid us (and to hide their flocks and herds), but there were a few who were willing to talk. From them we learned that there was no permanent Izumyrian force nearby.

I didn't like the idea of venturing blindly onto the open plains of Mahuc, where Izumyrian cavalry could move so quickly. But we weren't going to achieve anything by staying in the Uplands, either.

So I extracted one concession from Prosquetel and the Duchess.

- "March by night? Why?"

- "The people have to see us!" complained the Duchess. "How else will they know to come and join us?"

- "The Izumyrians have eyes, too." I pointed out. "If we're spotted out in the open, we're done. Have you forgotten their horsemen?"

- "That's the coward's way!" shouted Iduallon. That was his usual type of contribution to our strategy discussions: loud and stupid.

- "Fine." said Giedra. "You go ahead in broad daylight. The rest of us will follow by night."

Prosquetel narrowed his eyes. "I believe you're forgetting who is in command here."

Giedra laughed. "No - I'm pretty sure that you're the one with the bad memory." She stepped away from us, and raised her voice.

- "HEY! WHO'S COMING WITH GUENNA AND ME?"

Rion and Eliv stood up immediately. Then so did more than a dozen of the others. A moment later, another half a dozen stood as well.

The Duchess merely glared at me. Prosquetel mustered what diplomacy he could, trying to pretend that there were advantages to travelling in daylight, while graciously conceding that they would trust my 'instinct'.

***

I didn't care for Mahuc. I didn't like not knowing the land, for one thing, but it was also just too wide open. In some places, you could see for miles. Even the forests were different. In the Uplands, if you get lost in the forest, you're probably dead.

Here, though, there were multiple well-trodden paths through the trees. You could easily find three or four sites where woodcutters had been at work. Pigs scavenged. Undergrowth had been cleared, or collected. People lived here.

The Duchess and Iduallon complained when I took our band deep into the woods before letting them sleep. They hated travelling by night, but they also disliked making camp in the forest. To them, this was tantamount to being 'lost in the wilderness'.

Then, one day, my caution paid off. We were dozing in the shade; I was half awake when Rion approached me.

- "Soldiers." she said, softly.

- "How many?"

- "Four on foot, one on a horse." That was another difference between Mahuc and the Uplands; here you could ride a horse through the woods.

Very quietly, we warned our friends - and woke a few who were sleeping soundly. Giedra took half of our people a little deeper into the trees, off to one side of the path; I sent Gerimir and most of the rest off to the other side. Prosquetel and Iduallon, of course, wouldn't leave the Duchess' side. They pulled back along the path.

Then I called on Seva and two of our younger female members. I quickly explained what I wanted from them. Berilde and Sarine were sharp girls - they understood immediately what I was after. With Seva, I had to phrase my instructions as 'suggestions'; even then, she scowled at me.

Red-headed Seva had her reasons for hating my sisters. Me, she seemed to detest on principle. She questioned my judgment at every turn, and made a 'sour-milk' face almost every time I spoke. She'd do what I asked this time, though, because it was plainly the right way to go about it.

Berilde and Sarine, loaded down with several packs, headed down the trail towards the soldiers. The moment they caught sight of them, both girls squealed, in apparent panic. They turned, and bolted back down the path.

The Izumyrian officer shouted something, but his soldiers needed no encouragement - they immediately broke into a lumbering run, chasing after the girls (and what they were carrying). The mounted man set spurs to his horse, and cantered after his men.

Seva was waiting, along with Tugan and Paksyalta, two of our better archers (not for the first time, I wished that Yevna and Nameless, or Libot were here!). All three of them fired at the officer. The mounted man tumbled from the saddle.

The four foot soldiers were taken completely by surprise when twenty of us emerged from the trees on either side of them. One of them glanced back, behind him. He could clearly see the leader's riderless horse.

We had four prisoners.

Several members of our band acquired new spears, and shields, or short swords. But if there was one thing we needed, it was information. Gerimir understood Izumyrian, a little, and Prosquetel was reasonably fluent. They did the interrogating, while I listened, supplying a question here and there, and watching the faces of our captives.

I wanted to learn everything they knew.

With their hands tied, the prisoners sat cross-legged on the ground. They were remarkably cooperative, at first. There were 50 Izumyrian soldiers in the neighbourhood, they admitted - their base was perhaps 4 leagues away. Their task, according to these men, was to 'protect' the farmers.

- "Are you sure that's what he said?" I asked.

- "He said 'protect'." repeated Prosquetel.

- "From whom?"

- Pardon?"

- "Who are they protecting them from?" I said. "Ask them."

Prosquetel asked the question. The answer took a little longer. The soldiers actually had to look at each other, first. Then one of them said a word. It sounded like 'adrone'.

- "Bandits, he said."

- "How many bandits are in the area?" I asked.

Old WhiteHair frowned. "My guess would be none." But he asked the question. Once again, the soldiers hesitated.

I pointed at the soldier who had said 'bandits'. Eliv immediately stepped forward, and smashed the hilt of her sword into the back of his head, knocking him forward.

- "Interrogate them separately." I suggested. "But we need information from the locals, too, so that we can find out what the soldiers are lying about."

That was a task I confided to Paksyalta, one of our few archers. She customarily wore a hood, to obscure her features. I quite liked her, because she was a reasonably good shot, and also because she'd immediately tried to kick Iduallon in the fruits when he groped her.

I sent Berilde and Sarine with her, because they were clever, and quick. Three women might not be seen as a threat. They could get closer without alarming anyone.

Meanwhile, I learned that Iduallon wanted the captured horse for the Duchess.

- "It is only fitting that she ride this splendid beast." he said. "The people will see her -"

- "So will the Izumyrians." I interrupted.

He wasn't deterred in the least. "The Mother of the Heir should not-"

- "Fine." I said. "You feed the damn thing, and keep it quiet and out of sight." I would have to decide later if it was an unnecessary risk. There was no point in arguing with Iduallon now.

Paksyalta returned much sooner than I'd expected, with an elderly woodsman, who wasn't the least bit intimidated.

- "You're Uplanders." he said.

- "Some of us are." I admitted. "We're here to fight the Izumyrians. Can you tell us about them?"

The old coot grinned, showing all four of his teeth - three of which were rotten. "I could tell you a few things." he said.

That old forester could talk. If we'd wanted a history of this corner of Mahuc since the days of the first Borna, we probably could have got that, too. But I was able to distill quite a bit from his endless stream of words.

The Ban of Mahuc had died with Duke Richwin. Two of his sons were in hiding. The Izumyrians had come through the region last summer, gathering food - or stealing it, more often. They'd posted troops in several locations, to keep any eye on the farmers. Essentially, they'd been there to make certain that the harvest was collected, and that it wasn't hidden.

They'd twice taken the lion's share of the harvest back to Hvad town, leaving the people hereabouts on short commons. Now the soldiers were back, to make sure that the farmers didn't run away - that the fields were tilled and sowed.

- "They're not here to protect them? From... bandits?"

- "Protect them?" cackled the old man. He laughed so hard, I thought he was going to hurt himself. "They are the bandits!" He had a great deal more to say. After my experiences with my uncle and my cousin, the stories were all too familiar.

It was time to resume our interrogation of the prisoners.

I was in no mood to be patient. I pointed out the soldier who'd claimed that they were defending Mahuc from bandits. Eliv happily slit his throat.

Gerimir surged to his feet, an angry protest on his lips. I ignored him.

- "Tell them -" I said to Prosquetel, "the next one who lies, dies."

They confessed rather quickly. They'd been here last fall, to safeguard the harvest. Much of that food, they said, had been sent to Izumyrian garrisons in Stonje. Now they were back in Mahuc to make certain that the farmers stayed put. There had been cases elsewhere of families abandoning their lands, and running away. If that happened here, it was their immediate neighbours who would be punished.

Why send food to Stonje? Couldn't those garrisons steal food for themselves? The soldiers pleaded that they didn't know much - only that there was 'trouble' there. There was also 'unrest' in Yeseriya, and 'discontent' in Hvad town.

We learned some startling facts.

- "They killed guslars?" said Giedra. She simply couldn't believe it. I shared her horror. Who would do such a thing? Guslars were... repositories of knowledge, the custodians of our history. If the Izumyrians were killing guslars, then they were trying to kill all of us - and destroy all memory of us.

***

Iduallon killed the prisoners.

- "I was considering using them for leverage." said Prosquetel. "But we couldn't spare anyone to guard them. It's probably better this way."