NOTOMOL Chapter 5
Journal Entry #38, Winter, 937
The arrival of the guslar Adrastas has changed everything. His renditions of the old songs and stories have given us all new hope. He is also a composer of original works, which is very encouraging to me, personally.
He has read my account of what happened at Dusova, and seems to believe that it could be made into a moving song. The thought that my tale could become famous fills me with elation. I wonder, though, if it should not be spoken, rather than sung. Obran, the apprentice, is already working on the music that will accompany it.
I had always heard that the guslars of Stonje were odd. Their gusle, for one thing, have two strings instead of one. The sound is unusual, but not unpleasant. It simply requires a little more effort on the part of the listener to become accustomed to.
***
It was wonderful to have a guslar among us. People looked forward to his stories and songs. He performed many of the old favourites, of course, including Borna's Bucket and the Long Ride. But he also sang a little known song by Noyemi, the wife of the guslar Imants, that left many in tears afterwards.
There were fewer complaints about food for the next few days.
Adrastas also sang his own newest composition, a song called 'Dienik's Steading'. It told of our ambush on the Izumyrian soldiers, followed by the attack led by Nelime and Orsho. It was strange... those events seem so far away, now - as if they happened a long time ago. I was there, and now it was a song.
Motekin spent much of his time with the guslars. Doreg and Dubek were gone. The brothers hunted together, while I worked mostly with Aunam. He was a fine fellow - just not much for conversation.
Dusca had taken to joining Senderra and Evane the moment they returned from hunting. It was good to see them becoming friends, and I supposed that the big spear-woman helped to keep Vidrik away.
But it did leave me few opportunities to spend any time with Senderra myself. I know - it was probably complete foolishness on my part. What could she possibly see in a 16 year-old dwarf? I just hoped that she wouldn't forget about me entirely. Perhaps when I was older...
Notomol of course, was surrounded by people all day long. He had remarkable energy, and even more patience - I would probably have lost my mind if I had to answer the same questions over and over again.
Somehow, he always found the time to come by, every few days, to compliment Aunam and me for the work we were doing. That's why I began trying not to bother him in the evenings. I thought that he deserved at least a few moments to himself.
That's why what happened wasn't... well, it wasn't something that I'd planned.
Motekin was with the guslars. Cinna and Cirola hadn't returned. Senderra was laughing at something Dusca had said. Aunam, my hunting partner, had yet to speak to me.
I suppose that I was experiencing just a little melancholy. Or maybe I was feeling sorry for myself. I took my blanket, and moved away from the thronging mass of people. It might not seem so to you, if you came from Hvad town, but to a forester like me, 150 is a crowd.
It was a relatively mild night, and there was no wind to speak of, this deep in the woods. I put my back to a tree, and just listened to the forest. Even then, it was oddly quiet.
The reason for that, of course, was that there were other people nearby. I sensed, rather than saw, the slightest of movements. I slowly - ever so slowly - turned my head.
And there they were. Notomol and Nelime.
They were standing very close together, face to face. She reached out, slowly, to touch his cheek. Notomol leaned forward, until his forehead was pressed against hers.
It was a very private, very intimate moment - and I should not have been there. I couldn't even move, for fear of disturbing them.
Nelime turned her head slightly, and their lips touched...
That was when I carefully gathered my blanket and slid away from my tree, putting it between them and me.
***
I was pleased for them. Better than that - I was happy. It would be good if they could find a moment of comfort together, in the midst of war and privation... especially those two, who bore all of the responsibilities of leadership and expectation. They deserved it.
Yes, it also reminded me of how alone I was. But hadn't I always been alone? And weren't there scores of people relying on me, too?
Or perhaps I wasn't so alone as I thought.
- "There you are!" said Senderra. "Where have you been, lately?" It was about a week after I'd seen Notomol and Nelime.
- "Me?"
- "I know that you've been busy, lately." she said. "But too busy for your old friends?"
- "Uh... well, you've had Dusca join you... I didn't want to bother the three of you."
Senderra looked confused. "There are four sides to a fire, Kolasovets. And four corners after that. You're always welcome with us, no matter who else is there. You know that."
- "Right. Yes."
- "Or are you jealous of Dusca?" she asked. Senderra grinned, mischievously. "Wait - you're not sweet on Dusca, are you? And just too shy to approach her?"
I had to laugh at that - just as she'd intended. Dusca was a giant of a woman, and I... I was short. The thought of the two of us together was ludicrous.
"We miss you. Well, Evane won't say so out loud - but trust me - she does."
-"I... ah -"
- "You know who else misses you, Kolasovets?" said Senderra.
I held my breath. My chest was suddenly very tight.
"My brother."
That wasn't the answer I'd been hoping for, at that moment. But it
was
a surprise.
- "H - he does?"
- "You're his best friend. He asks
me
how you are, because he never gets to see you anymore. Are you deliberately avoiding him? Is it because there's always somebody else with him?"
- "Uh... maybe."
- "Then stop it." said Senderra. "He needs your support now, more than ever."
Strange, that: I'd never considered what Notomol needed - only what I did.
- "I didn't think... that he needed my help."
Senderra rolled her eyes. "He needs us all. You and I are among the very few he can trust - absolutely trust, I mean."
Then she smiled again. "But it's great about him and Nelime - don't you think?"
***
Izumyrian reprisals drove more people into the hills, and into the forests and bogs. The steadings were full of soldiers, who strutted about like peacocks. Food was stolen, and women were harassed, or even violated. Many Hvadi moved away from their hamlets, and their homesteads.
The soldiers had stopped paying for food at all. Farmers no longer brought their produce to the steadings - why would they, when there was no one to buy from them?
The Izumyrians had hundreds of men to feed. They spread their nets wider, and began requisitioning (stealing) food from every farmer they could find. More farmers fled - there was less food to steal - the occupiers began plundering ever more widely...
The cycle grew ever more vicious. Farms were deserted, and the enemy became more and more an army of oppressive tax collectors, thieves, and rapists.
The grapevine was still active, of course. People in Stonje knew that Notomol and Nelime were actively fighting the invaders. They came looking for us.
Some came to join us in resisting. Some came because they didn't know where else to turn. And, of course, some came because they were absolutely desperate.
Notomol performed wonders, but Nelime became the most important person in our camp. She was a known entity; people asked to speak to her, and they trusted her to look after them.
She was also remarkably good at connecting people and names. She immediately identified two collaborators - Hvadis serving the Izumyrians, only pretending to be refugees so that they could tell their masters where we were.
Notomol took them, by night, to Ansil's steading, and left them hanging within sight of the main gate.
But we were very nearly overwhelmed by the influx of people into the forest. Forty-two more non-combatants; only seven more that we could recruit as potential fighters - fortunately, three of those could use a bow.
I had to go further and further afield, in search of game. In the process I found a few unusual locations that even Notomol didn't know all that well. I told him of the things I'd seen, and the spots that might prove to be useful to us.
- "Good to know." he said. Then he placed his hand on my shoulder. "Don't stray too far away, Kolasovets. I need you near, whenever you can spare the time."
***
I grew up that winter. Not physically (well, perhaps an inch, or an inch and a half) - but I realized that I was one of the most important people in camp. Notomol relied on me. Senderra knew my worth. Yadha Snakehand patted me on the back. Even Nelime smiled whenever she saw me.
It was a difficult time, though. I certainly preferred hunting to fletching arrows. Now there were scores of people who could make arrows for me - but only a few who could find food for our forest steading. And there were so many people relying on us. I hated to come home empty-handed.
Old folk died. So did a few children. It tore at my heart, but I was already doing all that I could to provide food.
When the spring arrived, I felt the stirrings of a new hope, just as everyone else did.
Adrastas performed a new song. It was unlike anything I'd ever heard before. Obran played the tune, and Adrastas sang, in his rough, raspy voice.
Wind and water, 'pon the stone... Wear them down, wear them down
Leave their bones to feed the land... Wear them down, wear them out
Borna's like will walk again...
***
Notomol had ideas. Vidrik was urging action - attack. But we still had hundreds to feed. In the last few weeks of winter, and the first few days of spring, we had another two dozen non-combatants come to us, and four more fighters.
We needed food. So much food. Yet Vidrik was preaching the need to strike a blow - to hit back at the Izumyrians. I wanted to kick him in the crotch - he hadn't lifted a finger to feed anyone.
Orsho looked to Nelime - who looked to Notomol - but he wasn't ready to provoke a confrontation. There was plenty of simmering, though, most of which I'd missed because I was away hunting almost every day.
And then Doreg returned. Dubek was there, with both of their friends, and eleven new men from Hvad town.
Doreg had recovered from his wound, and the fever which followed it. Notomol welcomed him like a long-lost brother.
- "You're better!"
- "And you look thinner." said Doreg.
