Wolf's Blood (54 page)

Later, Derian would realize why the acceptance had come so easily. Unlike New World residents like himself, these people had grown to adulthood surrounded not only by people who could do magic, but by the relics of a magical past. Although in some Old World nations the reaction against magic had been almost as powerfully negative as it had been in the New World, there had been no way to erase physical reminders of what magic could do.

Even in the New World, there were reminders for those who knew where to look, most often in architecture where artifacts ranging from the light blocks built into the walls to the fantastical shapes of some buildings called to mind days when light could be had without smoke or heat, and towers could be raised to stand without visible means of support. Many of the more fantastical buildings had indeed been destroyed, but some, like the religious buildings in Liglim or the strange city within a city of Thendula Lypella in New Kelvin, remained.

In the Old World, where humans had lived for as long as any and all could remember, these architectural reminders were so prevalent that they could not be eliminated short of razing entire cities. Moreover, unlike in the New World, where the benefits of magic were restricted to those who ruled and their close associates, in the Old World magic had touched even the most ordinary of lives in the form of healing or lighting or little domestic comforts.

That routine use of magic had been gone for over a century now, but old people remained who could tell stories of things their own parents or grandparents had known or done.

So, when Isende stood up and reported in a quavering voice about her dream visions of fleets and armies, and Derian stood after her and told what Truth had said, the Nexans did not call them frauds seeking greater control than they already asserted, but politely thanked them and began addressing the situation.

Wort the Never Lived, who had once been a guard and now served the Nexus Islands as quartermaster of sorts, stood. He was a heavyset man with brown skin, wide lips and nose, and a wealth of thick, coarse black hair. He spoke from deep in his chest and his voice carried well throughout the crowded room.

“We have discussed and discussed again our position here as custodians of the Nexus Islands. I do not see how this new information has changed decisions we have made before. We decided to hold this place and control the gates, nor did we think that decision would be popular with those who had come to rely on those gates. Let us continue along the course we have set. Time spent discussing any other choice is time wasted for planning our defenses.”

Wort resumed his seat, and Derian braced himself for a wave of argument that did not come. Instead, all he saw on the faces of those gathered were varying degrees of agreement. Surprised, he turned to Ynamynet, wondering despite himself if the Once Dead had somehow placed a control on these people.

She met his gaze with a brief smile of understanding, and spoke in a voice loud enough for all to hear.

“No, Derian. I had nothing to do with this sudden accord. Those of us who were born in the Old World know the lands that gave us birth, rejection, and reluctant acceptance. We never thought they would let us hold such a prize as the Nexus Islands without challenge. Our reasons for not wishing to give in without a fight may differ. For some of us it is pride, for others fear, for others a sense that this is the only home we have known for many years. Perhaps it would be most honest to say that our reasons mingle all of these things, but you may feel secure that we from the Old World wish to hold these islands as much as you do, perhaps more. For you the Nexus Islands are an interesting toy, and holding them is a means of protecting your homelands. For us, they are a vital resource, and the only means by which we may hope to walk in our homelands again not as slaves or prisoners, but as people as good as any and better than many.”

Derian looked away from Ynamynet and saw that the gathered Nexans did indeed agree with the sentiments Ynamynet had voiced. A few were wiping away tears, but they were tears born of overwhelming emotion, not of sorrow or grief.

“Very well,” Derian said. “If we are agreed, then let us decide what we can do. How many adults do we have among us?”

Wort rose. “We have one hundred and nine healthy human adults, if we may count Plik among those.”

The short, fat raccoon-man did not bother to rise from his seat on one of the risers. To do so would have only made him shorter.

“You may indeed,” Plik said.

Derian looked again to Wort. “And children old enough to be of some help?”

“Twenty or so,” Wort said. “I’m less certain about that, but if we count those who might be good for little other than watching the younger children, at least twenty. There are also some invalid adults who could do similar work, or assist in the kitchens and such. However, there are also a handful of chronic invalids who will require care.”

Derian nodded. In a different community, there would have been more such invalids or elderly, but the Spell Wielders had not tended to suffer what they considered useless individuals. These had either been sent back to the “mainland” or had been, Derian suspected from rumors he had heard, killed.

Pushing such ugly thoughts from his mind, Derian turned to Plik.

“How about the yarimaimalom? Do you think we can count on their support?”

“Certainly,” Plik said without hesitation. “They remember all too well what happened when the Old World last touched the New. However, the amount of yarimaimalom who can actually come to the Nexus Islands is limited because we have no means of knowing who might or might not contract querinalo. The majority of those who would be available will be winged folk, useful in many ways, but perhaps not as soldiers.”

The ravens Bitter and Lovable were perched along the back of one of the higher risers, and now Bitter gave a series of hoarse croaks.

Plik translated, “Bitter regrets to confirm that my assessment is fairly accurate. We cannot hope that the humans coming here will not have thought to equip themselves with bows and even the most ferocious eagle is not invulnerable to such attacks.
”

“None of us are,” Derian said, remembering with a flash of nostalgia the care Blind Seer and Elation had both taken to make sure they understood the range and limitation of such weapons. “I’ll make a note that we should include in our training some lessons about bows and arrows and such. It could prove useful for everyone involved.”

“Thanks,” croaked Lovable in her hoarse imitation of a human voice. “Good.
”

Derian looked at Ynamynet. “Any thoughts about our magical resources?”

Ynamynet rose. “We have little enough. Myself, Kalyndra, and Enigma are the only true spellcasters among us. The talents that are available are specialized. I think if we consider carefully, we may be able to find a way to use them to great effect. Your ability to speak with horses, for example, means that in collaboration with one of the Wise Horses you can translate for the yarimaimalom. For this reason, I hope you will not be offended if I state that I do not think you should be general of our forces.
”

Derian looked at her in astonishment. “Me? I’m trained in sword and bow, true enough, but I’m no soldier. I was going to suggest Skea serve as our general.
”

Ynamynet looked both pleased and worried, and Derian remembered almost as an afterthought that Skea was her husband, father to her little daughter.

Skea, seated off to one side, rose. “I would accept, but only if I had the support of every adult Nexan. We’re going to need to train up an army in a very short time, and that will be neither pleasant nor easy. I can’t—we can’t—afford a mutiny.”

Wort, who might have been considered a rival for Skea, rose.

“I think you’d be better than me, Skea. If I were elected, I would need to train someone to take over this.” He hefted the long sheet of paper on which Derian knew he kept a concise record of all their resources. “That would be a demanding job in itself. No. When the invaders come I will take up my weapons and fight as best I can, but I will hardly have time to train, much less to command.”

Something similar was said by those of the dozen or so men or women who might have wanted Skea’s place in command. One or two did take the opportunity to stress their specialized training in some aspect of the military arts, and Skea gladly made them his officers.

The chief cook waved a plump hand while this was going on, and Ynamynet glanced over at Skea.

“Can you continue to work the military details out after the public meeting?”

Skea nodded, his dark hand busy working a quill across paper. “I can put up some sort of notice in the dining hall.”

“Good,” Ynamynet said. “Yes, Pishtoolam?”

The chief cook stood. “I realize we must seriously prepare against military invasion, but certainly everyone won’t be training as sodiers. There will still be meals to he prepared. just to give one example.”

“And laundry to he washed.” Ynamynet agreed, “and fish to be caught and herbs to be gathered, and firewood to be cut, and animals to be tended, and all the many. many jobs that are done here on a daily basis. However, there are a variety of tasks that can be ruled less essential, and even more that are going to be necessary.”

“Like learning how to use a sword,” the cook said hesitantly, obviously trying to show willingness.

“Certainly that,” Derian interjected, “although in your case I’d simply hand you one of your kitchen cleavers. I’ve seen what you can do to bone and meat with one of those.”

General laughter responded to this, and Derian went on.

“There are going to be other, less martial skills we’ll need to train in. Doctor Zebel …”

“Over here,” he said.

Derian noted that the doctor’s long-jawed face looked tired, as if he was worn out in anticipation of what was to come. Then he remembered that a baby boy had been born the night before. Zebel had probably been woken from a deserved sleep to attend this meeting.

“Doctor, we’re going to need to teach as many people as can learn the basics of how to tend a wound. We’re also going to need a handful more trained to do tasks more complex than stanching wounds and such. Can you take charge of that?”

“I can,” Zebel said. “There are several among us who already have the basic skills, others I think can be taught. I was wondering if some excuse can be found to send someone to Gak almost immediately. I have a supply of medications, and can augment some of these with plants that grow in the meadows near the Setting Sun stronghold, but cloth for bandages, thread for stitching, more alcohol for cleansing … I could make a list.”

Skea raised his head from contemplating the list he had been making. “And what about weapons? The Spell Wielders had laid in a small armory, but we have nothing like what we’ll need if we must face an army.”

Derian rubbed a hand across his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “We’ll work on that.”

Chaker Torn, who was captain and two-thirds of the crew that manned the fishing vessel that was the Nexus Islands’ largest craft, waved for recognition almost as soon as Doctor Zebel sat.

“What about this fleet Isende has dreamed is coming? We have a small number of craft, but nothing that can deal with a fleet of armed vessels.”

Ynamynet took this question. “I suspect that the fleet is going to be mostly transportation for those who are going to make landfall. Isende is going to be shown pictures of sailing vessels and she has promised to try and pinpoint what we are seeing. Tell me, is it true that the waters around the Nexus Islands are difficult to navigate?”

“True enough,” Chaker responded promptly. “Any ship with a deep draft is going to have a time getting close to shore. They’ll need to use landing craft, I would guess.”

Ynamynet smiled, but the expression was not particularly nice. In fact, it made Derian’s spine creep.

“Chaker. I want you to think about ways you might misdirect these vessels as to where the safe channels lie. I don’t know much about such things, but I’m guessing that what the invaders are relying on are old logs and charts from before the Sorcerer’s Bane, maybe older than that, even. Certainly, rocks and such may have shifted in all that time. If there is any way we can use that … .”

Chaker rubbed the inch or so of bristle that seemed to perpetually adorn his chin and cheeks.

“I might be able to work something.” he said, so hesitantly that Derian suspected he had ethical reservations of some sort. “Hard to say. really.”

“Just remember.” Ynamynet said, “any boat that doesn’t make it to shore with its burden of armed and armored marines is one that won’t be terrorizing your wife and children.”

Chaker stiffened at this, nodded, and took his seat.

Derian saw Harjeedian politely waiting for acknowledgment, and with a glance at Ynamynet to make sure she was finished, called on the aridisdu.

“I realize that archival research is likely to be one of those tasks deemed less important,” Harjeedian said, “and while I am fully in agreement with this, I would like to retain a researcher or two—perhaps from among our older residents who would not be physically fighting in any case—to research certain matters that might prove useful.”

Derian flicked his ears back in puzzlement, realized what he had done, and said a bit more brusquely than he had intended, “Such as?”

“Such as what defenses the Nexus Islands might have once had in place,” Harjeedian said. “From several people, I have heard tales that the waters were said to be populated with sea dragons. If this was true, might they still be there? Might this have been a metaphor for some more mundane form of defense? We of Liglim have had occasional problems with ambitious pirates who think the settlements surrounding our main bay are temptingly defenseless. They learn that underwater chains do unpleasant things to the hulls of ships forced to rely upon narrow channels.”

“Interesting thought,” Derian said. “What if chains like those are stored somewhere? Even if we couldn’t deploy them, we might be about to turn the metal in them to some other purpose. I think some research is in order. Ynamynet?”