Cheilin Saga ~ 05

 Cheilin Saga ~ 05 Mobilization

By Len Morgan

"I think some of those refugees are trying to take over the farms in this region," said Aldor.   "How many farms are there, nearby, that could accommodate them in such numbers?"

"How many similar farming communities, villages, and towns are there within a days travel?" Lomax asked.

"Mmm," Eldred considered, "a hundred or so if you're talking about twelve miles in any direction.   There are five, no six Villages and two towns worthy of the name" he added.

 

"How many men would there be at each farm," Aldor asked.

"Between ten and fifteen" said Eldred.

"And in a Village?"

"Three to four hundred," Eldred answered after due consideration.

"What about the towns?"

"That could be quite a lot, could be thousands…"

"From my experience, it would be anything from five to ten thousand," Lomax said.

 

"So, two thousand on the farms, two thousand or more in the villages, and let us say sixteen thousand in the towns.   That would make over twenty thousand men in this area alone.   If one in five were to be conscripted for training as militiamen you could have two thousand under arms almost immediately.   This region could easily support that number without hardship.   Then every two years another unit could be trained" said Aldor.

"In ten years they would all be trained warriors" said Lomax.

"We could then protect ourselves from marauders such as these," said Eldred.

 

"A local defense militia would have routed them long before they reached here" Aldor assured him.  

"This would provide us with some real security, for the first time in living memory," Eldred replied.

"But, first we have to deal with the current problem," said Aldor.

 

They bedded down in the outbuildings for the night, and close to dawn, Aldor was given the news that one of the wolves had returned with a message.

"There are between forty and fifty men camped two miles up the road with as many women and children, not what you would call a war party" Said Lomax.

"Then it is time for me to confront them," said Aldor.    A second messenger arrived.

"There is a gang of twenty determined-looking men no more than two minutes behind me" he announced.

Aldor turned to Eldred, "see that your people remain out of sight until I indicate that your presence is required.   Leave any action to Lomax and his men, and I will talk with them alone."   He whispered briefly to Lomax and the Carnivores dispersed into the tall grass, at either side of the track, leaving Aldor to confront the group alone.   His weapon remained firmly in its holster, as he smiled disarmingly at the man who appeared to be their leader.

 

"Gentlemen, have you come to attack these poor defenseless people as your colleagues did, or do you come peaceably to discuss your situation calmly and sensibly?" he asked.

"We want the animals that killed a dozen of our number.   We want revenge and reparation!"

"You are?" asked Aldor.

"My name is Pellan, who asks?   I like to know who I am killing and why."

"Well Pellan, eleven were killed.   But, we allowed one to go free to bring you here."

"That you have accomplished, now you have seconds to live," he said stepping forward sword in hand.

"You continue to choose the way of the sword, knowing you are outnumbered a thousand to one?" said Aldor.

"You seem to have something wrong with your eyes, I count twenty to one" said Pellan taking another step towards Aldor who stood his ground, hands-on-hips, with just the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Looks can be deceptive; you discount the Cheilin defense force."

"The what?"

 

Aldor ignored the question.   "There is another way.   You do not need to behave in this fashion," he raised his voice so it would carry and all could hear.   "Most of you have families, what will happen to them when you die?   You are farmers, not soldiers.   You are dispossessing your own kind.   It is not their fault you have lost your homes, they have done you no harm.   Did you speak to them?   Did they refuse you food to your face?   They seem pretty charitable to me.   When I arrived there were a dozen armed men in the process of slaughtering the occupants of this farm.   They were intent on rape, murder, and pillage, like common brigands.   Is that what you are?" Aldor asked.

Pellan's face registered surprise, hurt, and confusion.   "That was not what they came here for.   Karrel, you were there, step forward and answer this man's accusation, tell him how it happened." 

Aldor recognized the shamefaced young man, struggling with his emotions.

 

"Tell him what you told us," Pellan demanded.

"I… Can't…" he stammered, shaking his head, "what he says is true!"

"One of the new men who brought us the weapons, Magell I think, told Quamaal the farmer had refused to help us.   'So', he said, 'I think we should do something about it,’ he said drawing his sword.   His two friends also drew their swords, 'come on then' they said to us and charged down towards the farm.  'Kill the bastards' they yelled, and we all followed them down.   Two of them went into the house and forced everybody out, mostly women and children, and lined them up against the house.   'Set fire to the buildings Magell commanded.'    This is not right I thought, three of the farm hands were on the ground the others defending themselves with pitchforks and rakes.   I heard a shout behind me, I turned and this man clubbed me with the flat of his sword..."

An angry wild-eyed man pushed himself forward, sword raised, towards Aldor.

 

"That cannot be so!   My brother Quamaal was a peace-loving man; he would not be a party to such an act.   He even refused to shoot crows, back home, he said 'they have as much right to live as we do' take back those deceitful words or I'll beat the truth out of you," he yelled at Karrel.

"What if he refuses, do you take his life?   Then you will be no better than the others" said Aldor.

"I want my brother, but he's dead and somebody must pay."   He aimed a blow at Aldor, who hardly seemed to move but the sword flew harmlessly past his head, Aldor stood his ground and slipped a second clumsy half-hearted blow.   The distraught man threw the weapon from him and crumpled into Aldor's arms overcome with grief.   Had Aldor killed the man, none would have taken issue with him.   Instead, he held the man until his tears subsided, and won the hearts of all but a few who were not farmers at all.

"Do you not see?" he said, "Hate breeds hate.   It's a kind of madness that eats us up and turns good men into monsters.   Who is to blame for our plight?   Let the guilty man step forward."

They looked around with unease, but nobody moved.

"If we talk, we can find a solution.   Avoid hate, like a plague, it is virulent and will destroy us all if it is not stopped at source."

During this exchange Eldred and his family came out of their house and stood timidly by, ready to run at the slightest hint of real trouble.   Aldor beckoned them to join the gathering.   Tilla knelt beside the grieving man to comfort him.

 

"We were ordered from our house and told we were going to be sold as slaves," she said, "I was dragged out by my hair, and when my husband Earik ran to my aid they cut him down like a dog."   She wiped away a tear, "the same man said my mother was too old and not worth the transporting, 'kill her' he said 'and the old man,’ my father Eldred.   I went crazy, attacking him with my nails and teeth.   He knocked me down, and as I scrambled to my feet, he fell dead beside me.   I turned on another nearby, but he was already mortally wounded."   Her lips trembled briefly, and she squeezed her eyes tight shut in an abortive attempt to stem a flood, but her narration continued unabated like spring melt, "the yard was suddenly filled with small warriors and this man," she pointed towards Aldor.  

"What manner of creatures do you bring down upon us?"  Pellan asked.

"None you should fear, whilst we are talking," said Aldor "I met them in the mountains and they guided me here…"

"Tylywoch!"   Pellan whispered his eyes everywhere, his fear evident.

 

"There is nothing to fear, my word on it," said Aldor.   "Let us sit and talk, and contrive a sensible solution to our problem.   Can we at least agree on this?”

Eldred and Pellan both nodded and sat on either side of the track.   Aldor looked at Pellan encouraging him to speak.

"We need food, somewhere to live, land, tools;" Pellan shook his head hopelessly, "the list is endless.   We don't want charity, we have a little money, but the season is very advanced for planting.   We don’t know this land or its seasons; one wrong choice could destroy us."

"Your list is not endless, neither is your situation hopeless.   Asking for help on your arrival would have been a good way to start.   This region is large, we farm only what we know we can manage," said Eldred.

"So how much land do you manage, and where are your boundaries?"

 

Eldred smiled, "you are on the fringes now, and there is more land than anybody could possibly farm.   There are no deeds, when a family dies out or moves on to a better location, which happens from time to time, their old property becomes available for any other enterprising family to take up.   Just so long as they are not affeard of hard graft and the occasional knock.   Sometimes a family moves on leaving a crop in the ground that they consider is not worth the trouble of harvesting.   Then there are wild foods to be gathered.   Roots, berries, nuts, as well as fish, fowl, and hares, we can show you where to look.   As to the rest of it we could loan you tools and well-seasoned lumber, for building, even provide you with some of our excess food & seed crop, we had expected to be able to sell it to the clans anyway.   You could repay us over two or three seasons.   Because of our location, close to the foothills, the summers are milder but longer.   If you had killed us now, it woulda took you a generation to painfully learn all we can teach you in a matter of hours."

 

"There are still a few newcomers with us who came with the three, responsible for all the deaths we have seen over the last few days," said Pellan.

"You could be right," Aldor said. "Those men are not seeking refuge, they are slavers.   Opportunists, seeking to profit by the misfortune of others.   If you are in contact with other groups in a similar situation to your own, I would suggest you, spread the word to be suspicious of well-armed strangers with foreign accents.   Tell them also what has transpired here.   Let all your deserving friends benefit from this mutual misfortune," he said.   "How you deal with those strangers is up to you.   Now I must leave you but I will return to pursue the matter we spoke on earlier, Eldred.   I suspect the wagon is already well on its way."

"Indeed," he confirmed.

"Would you stay and take tea and cakes with us?" Tilla asked shyly.

"Thank you, another time when I am passing this way, I have to catch my guides and they move swiftly even with wagons," Aldor said. 

.-…-. 

"You did well back there," said Lomax.

"That is why I came here," Aldor smiled, "I am a controller," and for the first time, he really understood what that meant, "I make things happen," he said.

"You know it is not Tylywoch policy to interfere or become involved in such matters, it was not our concern.   Only matters exclusively in the interests of the Emperor, or involving the wellbeing of the Tylywoch are our concern.   If you were Tylywoch, you would be put to death for your actions on this encounter.   As it is, my own life may well be forfeit just for supporting you.   You are not after all one of us."

 

"That is monstrous!   No, it could never happen" said Aldor, "surely your people would realize that the interests of the people of Cheilin are the interests of the Emperor, so the interests of the inhabitants of the fringes are also the interests of the Tylywoch!"

Lomax shrugged, "We shall see…"

 

(To Be Continued)

 

Copyright Len Morgan