Authors: William Gehler
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
N
eevan got permission for Maggan couriers to cross Karran land and carry dispatches from the forest directly to her in the Citadel and back. Citadel guards always accompanied them. It was a strange sight for the townspeople to see a Maggan rider gallop through their city with a Karran soldier next to him, laboring up the steep incline to the castle.
Neevan also decided to try and switch her sleep pattern to night, so that she could be up and about by day. Her apartment in the Citadel, consisting of several rooms and a balcony, was comfortable and well furnished. Female Citadel guards always guarded her door to the corridor and wherever she went in the castle, at least one accompanied her. The guards were instructed to be polite and answer general questions about Karran but never to speak about the war or troop strength and never to become friendly or engage in personal conversation.
Four guards went with her as protection outside the walls because there was always the possibility of her meeting someone who had lost a husband or son or loved one in the war and still harbored ill feelings.
Word spread throughout the city and even into the countryside that a Maggan woman, who had been a soldier in the war against Karran, was now an emissary to the Citadel, where she resided.
There was great curiosity about her, as well as some harsh words by others who did not welcome her or any Maggan. On her third day among the Karran, she told the guard outside her apartment door that she wanted to visit the city that she could see from her balcony, spreading out below the castle walls.
Wearing a simple long black coat with a hood, Neevan would not have attracted any attention, but with the Citadel guards in tow, the citizenry easily determined who the mystery person was. She strolled down a busy street full of wagons piled high with goods, open bazaars with vendors at their stands hawking their wares, including fruits, vegetables, and meat as well as pottery, boots, and jewelry. Neevan found these bazaars fascinating, as the Maggan did not have them in their cities, although they had shops where one could buy most things that one needed. The Maggan also did not haggle over prices, and she laughed at the vendors who would offer one price and when she moved away would offer her a lower price. She waved at them and kept walking.
People were fascinated by her appearance, especially her eyes, and on occasion, other shoppers would gather about her as she inspected items on display and stopped to converse with vendors.
As she walked down the street, she came upon an open area between buildings that consisted of horse pens and enclosures where men were leading horses around by their halters before others who were bidding. She told the guards she wanted to observe the proceedings and found a seat where she could get a clear view. She had a good eye for horses. Maggan horses were mostly heavy draft animals and not nearly as fast and sleek as the ones being shown. She took a keen interest in a big black stallion who was also admired by the crowd. The horse’s virtues were extolled by a tall, thin man who was exhorting potential buyers to offer a good price. When a price was yelled out, the auctioneer would then try to get a higher price from the group of buyers. That made Neevan laugh. The horse was finally sold, and Neevan began the long walk back to the Citadel’s castle with her guards.
Within a short time, with approval from Ferman and the Maggan council of elders, Neevan negotiated a trade agreement to provide timber to Karran in exchange for horses and cattle. Karran was a land of open countryside, only lightly wooded, and lacking extensive forests whose trees could be used to build houses, barns, and other structures.
The Maggan needed horses and cattle, since Clarian and Martan had depleted their livestock in the raid on Minteegan. This arrangement worked out nicely. Clarian selected an exchange point halfway between the edge of the forest and the Citadel, and quickly a small village developed to handle the trade. The Flamekeeper saw no reason why Maggan drivers with their wagon loads of timber could not drive right into the Citadel, but Clarian argued against it, and Rokkman supported him. The halfway point was the compromise. Proposals were written, and riders carrying them rode back and forth between the Citadel and Minteegan as the details were worked out.
Throughout this time Neevan formally met with Clarian and Rokkman regarding trade, but these were serious discussions and left no room for getting to know one another. She often wondered about Clarian, knowing that she should not be thinking about him, but she could not help it. She acknowledged to herself that he was a handsome man—for a Karran. As she met Citadel soldiers and shopped in the city, she became more attuned to the Karran people. In some ways, they did not seem so different from Maggan people. She saw mothers with children in hand as she walked the city and heard the familiar admonishments that all mothers give voice to when correcting the young.
The letter came late in the afternoon to Clarian by a Citadel guard. He was at his desk reviewing reports on the crafting of new bows made in the fashion of the Kobani. Jolsani, his cousin, was instructing craftsmen on the construction of the bows. Clarian opened the folded letter.
It read,
Where could one find a good horse to ride?
Neevan
He smiled and called to an orderly as he wrote a response.
They mounted their horses, Clarian on Ruttu, his chestnut mare, and Neevan on a gray gelding. Pointing their horses to the southwest, they cantered toward pastures and open farmland. The fields closest to the castle on the north and east were training grounds for the troops. To the south, below the castle, cascading down the slope of the high hill, was the city, and to the west was farmland. In a short time, they found a wide, dusty road lined with farms, orchards, and pasturelands. Cattle and horses grazed in the thick grass and birds exploded from cover along the roadside at their approach.
The sun was descending out of the sky, lighting up a line of clouds floating above the horizon in suffused orange colors as dusk quickly drew the riders into its shadow. Neevan wore blue trousers tucked into black leather boots and a blue jacket. Her hair was tied back, and her pale face showed her pleasure at sitting on a horse again.
Clarian was surprised by Neevan’s enthusiasm for the ride and by how fresh and lovely she looked. They said little as they let the horses set the pace. Clarian had asked for a spirited horse for Neevan, and he was surprised and pleased that she could curb the feisty energy of the big animal, who had wanted to charge off at full speed. He thought she rode quite well and decided to put her to the test. He kicked his horse into a strong gallop and grinned at her as he pulled away. Not to be outdone, she urged her mount into a run. Clarian turned left off the road and into a broad pasture, letting his horse open up her stride. Across the field they sped, first Clarian in the lead, then Neevan, then Clarian again. At last, Clarian slowed his horse down as Neevan flashed by. He brought his horse down to a walk, the mare blowing hard. Laughing, Neevan pulled her horse up and waited for Clarian to catch up. He nodded, a good-natured smile on his face as he led the way to a rocky outcropping close by. He dismounted and hobbled the horses while he and Neevan climbed to the top of the rock and sat down to welcome the coming night. The moon shot up bright and silvery, spreading a white light across the farmland that highlighted the scattered homes and barns.
“Thanks for suggesting this time of day for me. This is my morning,” she said.
“I know. I enjoy sunsets and the evenings.” He paused. “I heard you’ve been staying up during the day and sleeping at night.”
“It’s a bit tough, but I’m getting used to it,” she said with a chuckle. “If I want to eat, I’d better be up when the cook serves the food.”
He nodded. He did not know what to say, and neither did she. They sat quietly watching the night unfold as stars carpeted the sky overhead. A light breeze picked up, and the smell of cut hay drifted in, sweet and rich. Lights from the windows of farmhouses appeared, and the lowing of cows and the barking of dogs carried across the valley. Her shoulder touched his, and he became acutely aware of her presence next to him on the rock, and he thought he could smell her perfume. She was scanning the field below and looking out toward the farmhouses. When she turned toward him, he could see her eyes gleaming in the faint light.
“That farmer is bringing in his milk cows,” she said, pointing. “Can you see him?”
“No. It’s too dark for me. I can see the lighted windows of the farmhouse, but that’s all.”
“He’s got a dog helping him.”
Clarian could see the dark forms of their horses, grazing at the base of the rock. “Are you comfortable here?” he asked.
“Here in Karran? I am, yes. I miss my mother, though. She’s not as strong as she once was. Do you miss your home?”
“I do. There’s just my mother and my aunt. We live out on the frontier in the Grasslands. I run a ferry across the river.”
“I know. And your father?”
“He was killed in a skirmish with the Kobani tribe.”
“My father was killed in the Great War.” She said softly. “Someday the wars will end, Clarian. I predict it.”
“Perhaps.”
“If you and I can make peace, why not the others?”
“Even so, you and I are as different as night and day.”
“Very funny,” she giggled, elbowing him in the ribs.
He faked pain and hunched over, grunting.
“Clarian, what is it in life you truly want?”
He opened his hands expressively. “I want to live out my life by the river, ferrying people across, farming my land, raising horses. Not a life of war. I’ve already seen too much death.” He sighed deeply.
Neevan curled her arm through his. “Most of my friends are dead. There are areas of dispute that seem impossible to overcome. But we’ll leave those for another night.”
“There’s a stream nearby somewhere to water the horses.”
“It’s right over there,” she pointed. Then she laughed, realizing he could not see it in the dark. “I’ll show you, daylighter.”
The days were long for Jolsani. He conducted training exercises in the mornings and afternoons, moving from one troop unit to another, especially the mounted archers, teaching the rapid shooting technique used by the Kobani. The seasoned archers were quick to learn. The biggest problem was the slow production of the new, shorter bows, and he was often seen in the workshops of the weapons makers, showing craftsmen the fine skill of shaping a Kobani bow.
Clarian, ever impatient, sent Grassland traders to barter with the Kobani for as many bows and arrows as could be acquired in exchange for whatever goods or livestock the Kobani desired. The trading was brisk once the Kobani got past their suspicions of Karran intent. Frequently, Clarian was by Jolsani’s side as they galloped their horses, bows in hand, demonstrating before teams of soldiers.
Having made a number of friends among the ranks of Citadel officers, Jolsani was comfortable among the Karran and no longer clung to Clarian. His grasp of the Karran language was improving, and he was popular at dinner with the soldiers. Because of his riding and fighting skills, Martan took a close interest in Jolsani and befriended him, often asking his advice on tactics and maneuvers.
Many soldiers from the recent war had returned home to their farms or towns, leaving a small but well-trained cadre of soldiers based at the Citadel. Clarian argued desperately with the Flamekeeper to maintain a large army, fearing that if war came again, they would not be ready with enough soldiers to hold back the Maggan hordes, but the Flamekeeper refused, believing that peace had been achieved.
Despite the occasional pleasant ride with Neevan, Clarian was not lulled into thinking that Ferman had become a man of peace. Clarian thought that, given the chance, he would attack again if conditions looked favorable. He did not think Neevan was spying for Ferman, although at first he had wondered. His growing attraction to her was becoming uncomfortable and was difficult to hide. Yet he knew that it was impossible for any relationship to develop between them. A Maggan and a Karran! These thoughts coursed through his mind often as he worked to prepare the army for a war that he hoped would never happen.
Clarian met frequently with Martan, who was now commander of the army. They conferred on training and troop strength and were often joined by Rokkman. Rokkman was convinced, as was the Flamekeeper, that with Neevan as emissary and with the vigorous trading unfolding, there was little to worry about in the way of conflict. Letters carried back and forth between Maggan and Karran seemed to be written in a tone approaching cordiality.
At the town halfway between the Forest of Darkness and the Citadel, now aptly called Halfway, the Maggan traders and the Karran traders, accustomed to one another after several months, carried on a lively trade and conversed freely with one another. The Citadel guards and the Maggan soldiers stationed there behaved in a formal manner, eyeing one another with suspicion, but none of the traders paid them any serious attention.
Wagons of timber rolled in regularly from the Forest of Darkness, and Maggan traders learned to haggle with Karran livestock sellers for the horses and cattle they needed. Occasionally gold and silver exchanged hands. Courier riders made the trip from the forest to the Citadel once a week. A Citadel guard would escort a Maggan courier from Halfway to the Citadel’s castle, the dispatches placed into Neevan’s hands. No Karran couriers ever rode into the forest. Neevan received sealed letters from Ferman and always one from her mother. In turn, she would hand over to the Maggan courier her sealed responses.
In a meeting with the Flamekeeper, Rokkman, and Martan, Clarian argued that they should send an emissary to Minteegan. The Flamekeeper laughed, as did the others, each time the subject came up. Clarian would grin sheepishly. The truth was that everyone was still afraid of the Maggan and to live among them was too uncomfortable an idea to entertain seriously. Martan suggested that if Clarian could find a volunteer who would not mind being eaten if he displeased Ferman, he would give Clarian his finest horse.