The Chronicles: Notomol Ch. 12

The little weasel had grown a little, in stature - not his natural height, but in terms of his reputation. He remained on reasonably good terms with the Duchess and Prosquetel, but most fighters appreciated the fact that he gave Notomol his unqualified support.

- "Do you remember, Guenna, when we first met?" he asked. "I was practically in hiding, moving from my hunting lodge to the humble houses of my closest retainers. I could barely keep ten men with me. Any force larger than that would have attracted attention. We moved in secrecy, often at night."

- "And kept to the woods." I said.

- "Exactly! Because if we travelled in the open, it would have let the Izumyrian horsemen sweep down upon us. But if the large majority of those horsemen are in Hvad town ..."

- "Remember," said Mailis, "the Bans and Hospodars are not in their steadings. It's true that three of the Bans are in Hvad town, with the Izumyrians -"

- "Or under the Northern Duke's watchful eye." said Lemek. "We don't know that they're collaborating."

- "They started that way." growled Dubek.

- "But they may have re-considered."

- "Go ahead, Mailis." said Notomol. "Finish your thought."

She nodded. "It's this. When my husband gathered his friends for a meeting, he was immediately declared to be in rebellion. The horsemen came. He decided to fight - and won. At first. When he was killed, I led the survivors of his band into Mahuc - where we met you. But now ... if the Hospodars want to call on their men, and gather outside of the steadings, the Izumyrians won't have the horsemen to chase them down. Those riders will be with their Duke."

- "They may not even learn what goes on outside the steadings." said Ban Lemek.

- "True." said Mailis. "The garrisons won't be large. Just enough to hold the steadings - but not enough to hold down the countryside."

- "How will they even feed themselves?" I asked. "By next year, they could all be in the same situation as the army in Hvad town - reduced to stealing food."

- "Unless they crush us completely." said Notomol.

He was right. Duke Beghel had to destroy us, so that he could then return his troops to the provinces they'd come from. If he had to keep his army together to face our threat, he was going to lose control of the provinces. His garrisons would be nothing more than beleaguered islands.

The steadings didn't matter. They weren't fortresses. With the exception of the castle just outside Hvad town, none of them could resist a determined attack by a numerically superior enemy. Worse than that, the steadings weren't self-sufficient. Food had to be brought to them. Cut them off, or isolate them, and they would soon be in dire straits.

- "He's ... he's made a mistake." I said.

- "A huge mistake." said Dubek, with a feral grin.

The Izumyrians had ceded the initiative in every province but one. Hospodars could call on their druzhinas, and meet with them, unhindered by enemy cavalry. They could move about freely, carry weapons openly, and plot mischief. It wouldn't take a genius to realize that they could strangle the steadings by denying them supplies.

The possibilities were very appealing. But I needed more time to think. Notomol gave me that time.

We met again three days later - just the two of us, this time. I had consulted with Giedra, of course, but I'd also spoken to Kolasovets, and - of all people - Nafni.

- "You have some thoughts." he said.

- "So do you."

He nodded. "Prosquetel will try to force my hand. He'll want an advance, or a decisive battle. But that's precisely what we can't give the Izumyrians."

- "So you'll avoid battle? Deny them the victory they so desperately need?"

He looked surprised. "Wouldn't you?"

- "I would try. First, you should bury Prosquetel and the Duchess in a place where no one will ever find them. But they won't be the only ones demanding action. Then you have the problem of where to finish up the year."

- "Go on."

- "You'll have to move about, declining to engage, against a force with greater mobility. You can't simply retreat into the hills - there's no way to feed all of our people there."

- "You've been talking to Yadha - or Kolasovets."

- "So have you, I think."

He had. The problem was simple, but enormous. When Notomol left devastated Stonje, he and his fighters had settled the non-combatants in a safe place. Early in the year, they were able to plant crops, which had contributed to being able to support a much larger army later on.

Notomol could try to avoid battle - but he had to do so while also protecting the vast mass of non-combatants who had gathered here. If they were going to plant crops, they had to choose a site soon. If they didn't, our army would face the same problem as the Izumyrians, by next winter - how to feed ourselves.

There were additional worries. Could Notomol keep our force together, if we did nothing but avoid battle? Retreat is difficult; constant retreat erodes morale as fast as melting snow in the spring.

- "We can't simply retreat into the hills, either. If we go where the Izumyrians cannot attack, they may go elsewhere. They could turn a second province into a desert."

The news from Hvad town and the provinces was good. But Notomol had not been vouch-safed a guaranteed route to victory. We talked about the opportunities, but also the obstacles that he was likely to face.

He would have to keep our forces together, and in good spirits. But he also had to keep the attention of the Izumyrian commander, and present a threat to them - without being trapped into a battle on open ground.

- "No easy task." he said.

***

We had been a steady trickle of reinforcements for months. Now it became a flood.

Thirty-five men from Hvad town arrived as a unit, even though only half of them carried weapons. Still, it was another boost to our morale to see them march them in together. They confirmed many of the things we had heard about the massacres, and of the conditions in the town.

More men came from Mahuc and from Pitve, but only a handful joined us from Stonje. Too many of the fighters from that devastated province were already dead, or sick, or starving.

I was more surprised than anyone when a small army arrived. The boatmen had come, led by big, bald and bearded Velik, the man who had made us haggle before letting us pay for passage across the river.

We'd heard that they had refused to carry supplies for the Izumyrians into the town, and that they had even begun to ferry townspeople to safety across the lake or up the river. Now they had decided to throw in their lot with us.

The boatmen had brought their kinsmen, and many of their wives & children. There were a hundred fighters, and sixty non-combatants. They were tough men, but I wondered how useful they would be in a battle, rather than a tavern brawl or a street fight. They would probably look out for each other, but would they obey orders?

There were more female fighters, as well, the majority of whom attached themselves to us. Giedra and I were kept busy, training and evaluating the newcomers.

The mood in our camps was buoyant. We'd comprehensively defeated two Izumyrian forces, and now our numbers had swelled and almost doubled.

Those two simple facts began to cause trouble for us almost immediately. Many of the new fighters had come a long way; they expected such a large force as ours to move towards their home provinces. The men from Hvad town had scores to settle. They were eager to march on the town at once.

The boatmen were the most unruly, and the most vocal.

- "We didn't come all this way to sit on our duffs." they complained.

They also seemed to have more liquor than the rest of the army combined. The boatmen were already loud and quarrelsome, but alcohol made them dangerous. There were several fights, and one man from Stonje was badly injured.

Notomol called all of the Captains together, and as many of the fighters who could be spared from hunting, scouting, or guarding prisoners. He addressed us all.

- "One of our fighters is out of action. He won't be with us when we go to meet the Izumyrians. I understand that tempers may grow short. But I will not lose any more of our fighters to senseless quarrels. Save your energy for the real enemy."

- "It was just a bit of a scrap!" called out one of the boatmen.

- "It was a deliberate attempt to injure!" snapped Notomol. "Three on one, from what I'm told. If I knew the identities of those three men, I would already have punished them. Instead I am warning you: the next 'scrap' that gets out of hand will be met with fines, and a beating."

Notomol took a slow turn, looking out over the leaders and their gathered fighters.

"And heaven help you if one of our people is killed. I will answer that with a hanging."

- "Good talk." said Giedra. "That should put the fear in them."

I wasn't so sure. I'd seen Prosquetel's face as we all listened to Notomol speak. Old Whitehair was smiling. I didn't care for that at all.

For a week after that, things were quieter. There was one brawl, which resulted in a chipped tooth and a black eye, respectively. Honours were even, and no was incapacitated. Notomol chose not to intervene.

Three nights later, two of our men - Uplanders - were tempted by the offer of drink. They went to gamble with the boatmen. The boatmen accused them of cheating. Keva was knocked to the ground, and repeatedly kicked while he was down. Guivi, who was a diminutive fellow, was tossed into a latrine.

His screams for help were heard by several different groups. The boatmen made no move to help him; they simply laughed at his predicament. Keva, however, was in worse shape. He had a broken rib - or perhaps more than one. His injuries were severe. We worried that he might not survive.

He didn't.

Notomol convened the army again.

- "I warned you." he said.

- "He tried to cheat us." claimed the boatmen.

- "At dice? The boatmen host a game, and let an Uplander bring the dice?" Notomol was no fool. That was a ludicrous claim, and the townsmen from Hvad knew it better than anyone.

- "It was just an Uplander." said another boatman.

- "I have fought beside Uplanders." said Notomol. "I have seen them hold the line, and fight bravely. So far, I have yet to see a boatman take on an Izumyrian. The only damage you've done is to our own people."

- "They're not our people. They're Uplanders." said Velik. "Savages. Everyone knows this."

- "They are fighting alongside us - against the same enemy. Whose side are you on?"

Notomol had Guivi identify two of the men who had kicked Keva. He wasn't sure about the third. The boatmen protested, and refused to hand over the two culprits.

- "Let it go, Notomol." said Dubek. "Tonight we'll have another dice game with the boatmen - a few of my friends of me. This time it'll be them that cheat."

The boatmen provided a necessary service in Hvad town. That did not mean that they were well loved - quite the opposite. Dubek and his friends had grown up in the town.

Notomol didn't take him up on his offer. But the boatmen could read the faces of our army. Uplanders had fought bravely. The Lowlanders might not like us, but we'd proven our worth. Notomol had warned us all, and the feeling was that the boatmen needed to be reined in.

Two of them were hanged.

It wasn't the beginning of our troubles, but it was a significant moment.

***

A week earlier, I had warned Notomol.

- "Prosquetel has started a whispering campaign against you. He's working on the newcomers, in particular - the boatmen and the townies. But he's been talking to other Captains as well."

Notomol despised politics and intrigue - but he was no fool.

- "I don't have the time to do the same, Guenna. Even if I wanted to."

- "Even if it leads to another Vidrik?" Senderra and Kolasovets had told us about this man, a dynamic fighter and persistent plotter, who had tried to wrest the leadership of the rebellion away from Notomol. He had split their group, taking almost half of the fighters. After one success against the Izumyrians, he had fallen into a trap, where the majority of his band were killed or captured. The prisoners were all executed - another reason why Notomol took no mercenaries prisoner.

- "It won't come to that." he said.

For all of our sakes, I hoped that he was right.

Senderra and I tried to work out who could be relied on to support Notomol. The fighters from Stonje trusted him. After all of their experiences together, they wouldn't choose another leader over him. That also applied to Nelime and Orsho, whose opinions both carried great weight. We counted almost 200 warriors from Stonje, including some of the first to join Notomol, like Cinna .

Dubek might not be a close friend of Notomol, but he knew who the best leader was. Dubek led a group of about 30, mostly from Hvad town, but men who had been with Notomol for two years or more. They were among the best fighters we had, so their importance was much greater than their numbers would suggest.

Eiven Cloudy-Eye had a following of about 30 as well, almost exclusively from Pitve. Even then, it did not include all of the men from Pitve.

- "He has a roving eye." said Senderra. "It turns out that he doesn't exclude married women from his attentions."

Eiven had firmly attached himself to the Duchess and Prosquetel, partly because he had cheated on Senderra when they were together. He had to assume that he was not one of Notomol's favorite people. But Cloudy-Eye was also ambitious. He was charismatic, as well, which might lead some to think that he had potential as a leader.

Giedra and I were solidly with Notomol, of course. We represented about 50 Uplanders and female fighters. But did we have any influence? Would the other Captains attach any weight to our opinion?

Ban Lemek now led over 60 men from Mahuc. He himself was not a war-leader. He had experienced both my leadership and Notomol's, and knew our worth. But he was a political animal, too, and it seemed to us that he might be playing a long game, positioning himself to be a leader after the war - if we could win it.

Mailis also knew us, but her influence had diminished. She only had 25 fighters from Yeseriya, and no more volunteers from her province had come to join us. She too had ambitions; Giedra was certain that Mailis wanted to be confirmed as a Hospodar. Only the Ban of Yeseriya - or the Duke - could grant her the title.

Heras Koymil had attracted a few more of the townsmen, so that he led a group of 20 annoying young men. He had almost no leadership potential, and their numbers were small, but they insisted on taking themselves very seriously.

There were another 50 townsmen here, independent of both Dubek and Koymil. I could see that Dubek might be too rough, too raffish for them. But there were rivalries and undercurrents in the town that we could only guess at.

Velik and his boatmen were a very large group, nearly 100-strong. They had no reason to like Notomol now. Prosquetel had been assiduously courting their favor.

- "Kissing their asses." said Giedra.

The Duchess had her title, and Prosquetel could claim to be a Captain, since he led almost 20 fighters. He had Iduallon and Gerimir, Odma and Seva - who had delivered a baby boy, and then left him in the care of a foster family. In addition, Old Whitehair had gathered a small crew of extremely loyal (or extremely ambitious) men.

Aldur the Wall had a following of about 20. He supported Notomol - he said - but in a lukewarm manner that didn't make us confident that we could count on him.

That left the unattached, or the undecided. There were the men from Pitve who did not join Cloudy-Eye. I suspect that there were also many men like Notomol, who preferred to maintain their independence, and not take orders. Others gravitated from one group to another, seeking the best fit. There were between 100 and 150 of these fighters. How would they jump, if it came to it?

There was one bright spot: the guslars. While Thuruar now sat at the Duchess' feet, Adrastas and Obran had a much wider following. They were firmly for Notomol.

Prosquetel, as it turned out, was much further ahead with his plots than we had thought.

The Duchess called a Council of Captains.

***

- "She what?" said Giedra. "Can she even do that?"

- "She did." said Senderra.

- "Should we stay away?"

- "No." I said. "I want to see and hear what they're up to. Besides, Notomol may need our support."

The Duchess had called on the Captains to convene at dusk, with two low fires providing illumination without blocking lines of sight. It was dramatic, and made the meeting seem very important. It was also a major mistake on their part, though we didn't realize that right away.

The leaders were there, each one accompanied by at least a few of their fighters. I saw no reason to exclude any of our people: Berilde came along, as did Rion and Eliv. Liesma, Paksyalta, Krissika and Tota were with us. Senderra, Evane and Dusca stood with us, too.

Notomol was there, with the ever-present Marmos on one side, and Adrastas and Obran on the other. He made no move to take control of the proceedings. Like the rest of us, he waited, and watched.

Lady Temara stepped forward. She'd made an effort; we saw that at once. She had washed her long, luxuriant dark hair. Someone had brushed it for her until it shone in the firelight. She was a very attractive woman (when she wasn't sneering, or looking offended). Tonight she looked quite regal.

- "I have called you together," she said, "because I am concerned about the direction of the war."

Here we go, I thought.

"Our people in Hvad town are being massacred. Innocents are being killed - and we do nothing to help them. They are crying out for our aid - but we do nothing. We won a mighty victory, last year, before the winter - but we did not take advantage of it."

At that precise moment, just as she paused for dramatic effect, someone in the crowd let loose a thunderous fart.

Nervous giggles rippled through the assembled warriors. A few laughed out loud - Giedra among them. I wasn't sure where the digestive complaint had originated, but it might have come from over to our left, where Dubek stood with a few of his friends.

Lady Temara was quite obviously annoyed. There it was: that face I'd come to know so well. She was not adept at schooling her features. When the tittering and whispering had subsided, she spoke again.

- "This is no laughing matter!" she declared. "I have asked Prosquetel to speak for me to explain why I am so disturbed by our inaction - and what might be done to address it."

Old Whitehair came forward, and made a show of helping the Duchess back to her place. Then he stepped closer to one of the fires, so that we could all see him. He slowly looked around the circle, his standard opening move.

If I had had a store of intestinal gas at the ready, I would have been sorely tempted to let fly just then.

- "The Duchess is perturbed." he began. "Concerned. As we all should be. After a great victory, we let our opportunity slip away. The Izumyrian Duke has called for reinforcements from all over Hvad. Had we advanced on the town right away, we would have had the advantage."

Prosquetel took another long, slow look around.

"But we can still retake the initiative. Our army has almost doubled in size since we won that fight. Lady Temara made clear the need for action. Every day that we delay, the Izumyrians kill more children in Hvad town. We must move. It is time, my friends, to strike!"

Was it just me, or did Old Whitehair not seem all that concerned for children outside the town? In Stonje, for example? I wondered if anyone else was reacting the same way.