Adalan nodded his understanding, though his tone was cold. “Since we’re men of honor and need to be clear with each other, while I understand the conditions we will operate under, I hope you understand we’re not here to fight your fights. I cannot waste my ships and men for your objectives. We’re here to raid vulnerable targets, not engage in warfare.”
Akuyun wasn’t offended by the Buldorian’s statement and appreciated dealing with someone who, like himself, wanted all parties to understand the scope of their cooperation.
Men of honor? wondered Akuyun. Yes, he supposed they both were, but within their own kind. He certainly wouldn’t trust any Buldorian enough to turn his back on them, and he doubted it would ever occur to them to trust any Narthani.
“That’s understood, Captain. We’ll provide information on likely targets, and it’s up to you to carry out the raids. However, as you say, I don’t expect you to engage in any pitched battles, since we’ll choose targets carefully.”
Akuyun studied the Buldorian leader as they spoke. He’d wanted this face-to-face meeting to assess who they would be employing. This Adalan fit the stereotype expected of a pirate—garish dress, braided hair, and, if his nose was being truthful, a good dose of Fuomi perfume. Akuyun was pleased. The man was imposing, taller than any of the four Narthani, with not an ounce of fat evident. Several visible scars established that he’d not gotten his position by nonviolent means, he spoke fluent Narthani, and, by Akuyun’s judgment, he was both intelligent and controlled.
Yes, he will do quite nicely, thought Akuyun.
For the next hour, Adalan asked questions about the conditions on Caedellium, and the four Narthani assessed their mercenary hire. When questions lagged, Akuyun looked to his subordinates. “Any other questions for Captain Adalan or comments?”
There were none.
“Then you believe you’ll be ready to leave in . . . as you said,” Akuyun asked the Buldorian, “three days?”
“As I said,” confirmed Adalan, “the only reason my men might have used more time ashore was to utilize brothels, but the women you provided are servicing quite well.”
Akuyun turned to Tuzere and raised an eyebrow.
“We’ve given the Buldorians six Preddi women,” offered Tuzere. “My, uh, understanding is that six women per ship would suffice for the Captain’s men.”
“And the women are from where?” Akuyun asked.
“Younger women from that group of Preddi that tried to escape via fishing boat across the Gulf of Witlow into Keelan or Gwillamer Provinces last week.”
“Ah, yes. We’d not settled on their disposition, as I last recall. I’m sure I have your report of the outcome somewhere on my desk, and I just haven’t gotten to read it yet.”
Tuzere nodded. “Correct, General. Most of the Preddi were young, I assume those able to travel fast. The men were executed and the younger children given to Narthani families. The other women and older children were whipped and converted to slave status.”
Akuyun turned back to the Buldorian. “Consider the women a gift of the Narthani. You may keep them, along with any other Caedelli you choose to capture in the raids. Be aware, you’ll have to transport any slaves you keep yourselves, so be judicious in the numbers. We’re not prepared to keep slaves from the other clans at this time, so any captives you take have to be taken off Caedellium.”
“I think we can manage to do that, General.” The implication in the Buldorian’s tone left no doubt he didn’t feel the need for a Narthani to tell him his business.
“All right then, Captain Adalan. I’ll expect you and the rest of your ships back here in no more than five to six months. I assume you’ll spend the intervening time doing whatever you do, but be sure to be back as we’ve agreed.”
The mercenary leader nodded and, with cursory leave-taking, exited the room for the thirty-mile horse ride back to his ship.
Akuyun addressed the other three men. “Any thoughts about our erstwhile Buldorian employees?”
“Scum,” snorted Zulfa, “but I think they’ll do nicely for our purposes.”
“I agree,” said Admiral Kalcan. “Scum, as Aivacs says, but no question about their seamanship, and I think they’ll do well with raiding civilian targets.”
Akuyun sat back in his chair. “All right then. They’ll be back within six months, and we’ll turn up the heat on the Caedelli one more notch. I know we’re all glad to move toward the next phases of our mission here and see a time to return to Narthon.”
Chapter 11: Yozef Learns about the Narthani
In the sixday after the interview with Abbot Beynom, Yozef’s ears repeatedly picked out the word Narthani in abbey staff conversations. Although he knew he must have heard the name before, it was only now registering with him, since the abbot had mentioned the Narthani and one of their ex-slaves. Who were these Narthani? Were they related to whatever reason Carnigan and the others went off for those sixdays, armed to the teeth?
Carnigan was the first person he thought to ask. At a morning meal, Yozef entered the dining hall and looked for the large, red-headed figure. Most of the tables were full with brothers and sisters in their brown clothing, individuals and family groups he suspected were visitors and relatives of patients. Carnigan ate in a corner, alone as usual. Yozef walked among the tables and sat across from the red-headed man. A staff member had seen him come in and placed his own meal in front of him. This day the bowl held the usual thick porridge-like something, supplemented with pieces of a ham-like meat and fragments of a different nut than usual, this one deep black, with convolutions like a walnut. He knew it wasn’t ham, since he hadn’t seen any pigs, and how many different nuts did they have in this place? He swore he must have seen at least six or eight different kinds in these gruels.
Yozef picked up the spoon, scooped up and blew on the steaming porridge, taking the moment to look at Carnigan. You know, I think of him more as a friend than anyone else I’ve ever known. Look at us. A gruff, red-headed giant and a castaway. Are we an odd pair or what?
“Carnigan, don’t let this go to your head, but I missed you when you were gone those sixdays.”
“Go to my head? What does that mean?”
One of those phrases that doesn’t translate. “Never mind. I missed your ugly face.”
“You should talk. At least now you don’t scare strong men like you did when they first found you, though I’d advise not looking in a mirror more than necessary. A pair of strange eyes might look back at you.”
They both laughed. At first, Carnigan had been irritated and puzzled by Yozef’s banter, but he quickly retaliated in kind, and the back-and-forth became part of their routine.
Yozef suspected others listening in on their interchanges wondered when Carnigan would pound him into the ground. He had noticed worried expressions and cautious movements away from their table by others in the dining hall the first month they’d sat together, talking and laughing. Not that talking had come easy, but, when the two were together, Carnigan’s trademark grunts and minimal sentences evolved in concert with Yozef’s improving Caedelli.