Westrons

The next morning, Kanitz got back to business much earlier than I would have preferred.

- "Tell me about your Wole project." she said.

- "You already know about it."

- "Tell me again."

I repeated the original idea: because they were neutral in the constant wars between Westrons and Crolians, the Woles could travel freely and do business with both Kingdoms. They knew a great deal about the military preparations on either side, as well as in the Penchen domains.

By offering a 'reward' for anyone who could help to improve the accuracy of Talley's maps, his daughters believed that they could gain valuable intelligence from the Woles about Crolian activities, including the location of their winter quarters and their war industries.

- "I thought that it was a great idea." I admitted. "And we intended to share the information with you all along."

- "I know that. You're very sweet." said Kanitz. "Now let me tell you a few things about the Woles."

"In one sense, the resemble the Penchens, because neither of them can interbreed with other species. But the Penchen are very militaristic, and you can purchase their services for a specified period of time."

"The Woles, however, are completely unwarlike. You can hire them to perform a specific task, or you can do business with them. But they profess absolute neutrality in our wars with the Crolians."

- "I know." I didn't say anything more. How to explain that I'd learned more about the Woles in Sleepread aboard the Halygon ship, than Kanitz probably knew herself?

- "Except that I don't believe they're entirely neutral." said the Queen's Chancellor.

- "I beg your pardon?"

- "I've been collecting information from Wole sources for a decade, Cook. It's absolutely amazing. On several occasions, an intelligence 'plum' has dropped into our laps, as if by magic."

- "Really?"

- "The coincidences are too striking. I suspect that the Woles don't want us to lose. They're

actively

helping us. Only when

they

choose to do so, of course, so only when it suits them, but still ..."

- "Why would they do that?" I wondered aloud. This was

not

one of the topics covered in my Sleepread tutorial.

- "I've wondered the same thing. My conclusion is none too pretty: I think they fear a total Crolian victory as much as we do."

"If the Crolians dominated the entire continent, why would they need the Woles - except as a food source?"

***

I bought gifts for Ishana and Nasta. Once again, they'd had to risk injury or even death defending me. Both bore bruises, and Ishana had a scar over her eye. Along with the gifts, I included a card that said:

'To the busiest bodyguards on the Continent'.

Tallia and Esyle were both upset.

- "We worry about you all the time." said Tallia. "Well, more so when you're in command of the regiment, at war. But now we have to worry every time you go to the Palace."

- "It's getting out of hand." said Esyle.

- "Hopefully, the judgment of the Council will help." I suggested. "Maybe it'll deter people from joining these conspiracies."

I don't think that Esyle was buying it.

Avette gave birth to a baby girl. She named her Eriga. "After my mother." she said. "Just so you know, Cook: Eriga is officially my heir."

That was going to set the cat among the pigeons, in terms of breaking social conventions; little Eriga could grow up to be the first hybrid noble.

- "Will they accept her?" I asked.

- "Well ... that remains to be seen."

Then things got very interesting around the Belere.

Tallia was pregnant.

Esyle wasn't.

***

Tallia couldn't help it; she was sexually aroused

all

the time. She wanted more sex

after

becoming pregnant than she had when we were trying.

She would come to my room every night, and to my study during the day, wearing as little as possible, to get my attention. She had a few skimpy outfits which almost never failed to do the trick. Of course, just a couple of undone buttons on her shirt would often be enough.

I'd taken to wearing light kilts at home, rather than breeches, and she was shameless about lifting my kilt, or sliding her hand underneath it. If she found me even semi-hard (and the sight of her trim body almost always produced an erection) then I had no excuse whatever for not taking her on the spot.

Bed, floor, the chair in my study, or the desk. She climbed into my lap, if I was sitting down. Tallia started wearing skirts herself, claiming that breeches were too 'confining'. She wasn't fooling anyone.

Especially her sister.

Esyle was far too gracious to say anything rude. But it had to be difficult for her to accept that her pregnant sister was monopolizing my attention. She responded with a little ... friendly competition.

Unfortunately, Esyle suffered from two disadvantages. First off, she was too polite to be as forthright as Tallia. She would hint, or suggest, but never come right out and

demand.

Second, she was one of those females who had plenty of confidence in her own intelligence, and her social skills. She was less certain, though, about her body and her sex appeal (for lack of a better expression).

She felt silly flirting, and was too shy to simply plop herself down on my lap and demand that I have sex with her.

Truth be told, I loved both of them. The differences between the sisters appealed to me. I didn't want Esyle to be more like Tallia at all. That meant that I had to go to her.

Of course, that meant that I had to go to Tallia first.

- "You need to leave some time for your sister and me." I began.

- "She'll have plenty of time when I'm big as a barrel." Tallia said. "You won't even be looking at me then."

- "You know that's not true. You'll be busily monopolizing my time, as you always do. Be fair, Tallia: you know Esyle doesn't fight for my attention."

Tallia grudgingly conceded a few days. I had the servants fill every vessel in the house with water, and begin to heat the largest cauldrons we owned on the stoves.

Esyle was delighted when I suggested that we bathe together. She was even happier when the hot water kept coming, even after we'd made love in the tub.

Then we dried each other off, and went to bed, where we made love again. Afterwards, we lay together, just holding each other.

- "I'm sorry." she said. "It's just that ... we worry about you."

***

Tallia and Esyle's Wole Project turned up an unexpected visitor. They sent Nasta, who'd accompanied them, running back to the Belere to tell me.

- "Esyle said you'd want to be at her mother's house. There's a Wole there by the name of Lebuc."

That got my attention.

He was a little plumper than I remembered, a little rounder. His face still reminded me of characters from children's stories - the muskrat, or the groundhog. He was almost as wide as he was tall.

A weeble. That was it. He reminded me of a childhood toy that wobbled and could spin, but couldn't fall over. It still surprised me that he was male.

But a smile appeared on his face the moment he caught sight of me, and he extended his plump little hand and fat fingers.

- "Colonel Cook!" he exclaimed. "So very good of you to come. I am very pleased to see you again."

- "Likewise." Lebuc had helped me get to the capital, after I'd been marooned on this planet. He'd also provided useful information when I was planning the winter raid with Langoret.

Most Woles seemed distracted, and somewhat evasive - unless you were buying or selling - in which case they were fully engaged in the conversation. Lebuc, though, seemed alert and attentive from the outset.

- "Mister Talley's maps are very good." he said.

- "And they're becoming even more accurate and precise, thanks to you and your people."

- "Thank you. We do try to help." He smiled shyly. "Perhaps ..."

- "Perhaps ...?" This was odd. Unless I was mistaken, Lebuc was trying to tell me something.

He stepped closer, and lowered his voice.

- "Perhaps if the Colonel could tell us what he was looking for, we might be able to help more."

I made a snap decision. "Lebuc, would you be willing to speak privately? Maybe we could have lunch at the Belere - what do you say?"

Lebuc looked surprised. "You ... you are inviting me to dine at your Palace, Colonel?"

- "It's really just a big house. But yes - why don't you come over for lunch?"

- "But ... Westrons don't invite Woles into their homes." he said.

- "Well ... I'm not a Westron, so it doesn't matter." This was uncharted territory, for me; there'd been no mention of Westron-Wole social interaction (other than trade) in my Sleepread lessons aboard the Halygon - now I wondered if that was because there

was

none.

Lebuc virtually confirmed that for me.

- "I accept, Colonel. But perhaps it would be wiser if I were to arrive by the servants' entrance."

- "We've had lunch together before." I reminded him.

- "Out of doors. At an Army Camp. There is a difference."

- "I would be honoured to have you walk in the front door with me." I said.

- "Thank you, Colonel. I believe that I understand your intent. But I would be more comfortable if I could arrive ... discretely."

There was no point in trying to talk him out of it. I wanted to speak to him privately - not make him nervous because we were challenging social mores.

I went straight home. On the way, I told Koroba and Madze what I was doing. Madze made no reaction, but Koroba shook her head.

- "You'd better dismiss the servants, then." she said. "Unless you

want

them to tell the whole city that you invited a Wole to lunch."

- "Who I invite into my house is my business." I said.

- "Understood." said Koroba. "Question is, do you want the whole capital to know your business? That he was at your house? Is this a private meeting, or a social crusade?"

She had a point. I told her so.

"I'm not just a pretty ass, Colonel." she said, with a wicked little grin.

I gave the servants the rest of the day off. Lebuc came quietly to the back door, and Madze let him in, while Koroba put together a vegetarian platter that might appeal to a Wole.

- "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Lebuc." I said, when we sat down in my study. "I wanted you to feel welcome in my home."

- "I appreciate your courtesy, Colonel Cook. Truly I do."

He nibbled at a hunk of bread, and happily ate a small pink vegetable that reminded me of a radish. He also accepted a glass of fruit nectar.

After that, he didn't keep me waiting long.

"What is it you are looking for, Colonel?" he asked. "Is there something specific that you would like to know?"

- "Lebuc," I said, "I don't mean to be rude - but are you one of the leaders of the Woles?"

People laugh. Some giggle. I've even met a few who titter. Woles, however ... huff. They draw four or five sharp little breaths, and then exhale slowly. That was what Lebuc did.

- "Oh - dear me, no." he panted. "But I

was

sent by the Sendrin."

- "The Sendrin?" I didn't have to pretend ignorance this time. I had no idea what he'd just said. There was nothing in my Sleepread lessons about Sendrin.

- "Our elders. The wisest of the Woles. They are well aware that you and I have met before, and they suspect that there might be some kind of ... affinity between us. That is, that some state of friendship may exist."

- "They're entirely correct. I do consider you a friend, Lebuc."

- "I believe you, Colonel. The Sendrin hoped that because of that, you might be willing to place some trust in me."

- "So ... you're here representing the Sendrin? The leaders of the Woles?"

- "Essentially, yes. And we are well aware that you will tell the Chancellor what we discuss. We are intermediaries, you and I. This is, essentially, an indirect interaction between the Sendrin and your Queen."

Oh boy. Not at all what I'd been expecting, when I woke up this morning.

At that point, Koroba bustled into the room, carrying a bottle of wine.

- "Is this the one you meant, Colonel?" she asked. "Sorry - I don't know much about wine."

- "That's fine, Koroba. Thank you." She'd given me just enough time to gather my wits. "If you don't mind - no more interruptions, please."

- "Yes, Sir." she said. But she wiggled her hips just before she closed the door.

The Sendrin. The Queen.

- "Would I be wrong, Lebuc, to assume that this interaction involves something like ... a favor now ... for a favor later?"

The Woles might look like cartoon characters to me, but they were clever creatures who had survived and prospered, despite being surrounded by larger, more powerful carnivores.

He didn't answer me directly. Instead, Lebuc titled his head, and then slowly lowered his chin until it touched his chest.

- "You believe that the Crolians are re-arming. Re-equipping their armies." he said. "You know that there will be another war -"

- "There's always another war."

He nodded. "Sadly, true. In this case, though, the Crolian King is not simply re-arming."

"You have damaged his prestige, Cook. Tonol was a reverse. But Limset was a serious blow. Having to ransom his son hurt the King's reputation enormously. He is the first Crolian King in several generations to lose a war with the Westrons."

"His nobles are grumbling. Members of his extended family are beginning to wonder if they might not make a better King than the present occupant of the throne."

- "You

know

this?"

- "Of course we do. Crolian workshops are going day and night. New mines are being exploited; old mines are being re-opened."

- "How can they afford to? It sounds like a massive expenditure." I said.

- "He is mortgaging their future."

- "What?"

- "The King is desperate to find the funds for re-armament. He is selling commissions in the army - a commoner can now become an officer, if he has enough cash. The nobles are furious, as you might well imagine, but the King is also selling Crown lands."

"So instead of complaining, or rebelling, they are scraping together as much money as they can, to buy land."

"The King needs every coin he can find, because he is also buying armaments from the Penchens, to re-equip his regiments."

- "The Penchen are selling weapons to the Crolians?"

- "Oh yes."

- "Aren't they worried about what might happen if the Crolians win?"

- "Of course. But the Penchen King is also chronically short of cash. He desperately needs money, to maintain his army. He will sell weapons to the Crolians, and rent regiments to the Westrons, in order to maintain a larger army than he could otherwise."

- "How do the Woles fit into this?" I asked.

Lebuc hesitated. Then he fudged. "I don't understand the question." he said.

- "It's a simple question,

my friend

: whose side are you on?"

Lebuc did me the courtesy of looking me in the eye.

- "We have a saying, among my people: the word of a Westron is worth less than their last bowel movement."

Shit.

- "Do you have any similar sayings about the Crolians?" I asked.

Lebuc's expression didn't change. "Beware the Crolian, lest you end up as

part

of his next bowel movement."

I didn't answer. What can you say, to something like that?

- "I'm sorry." It was all I could think of. Poor Woles; they couldn't trust anyone.

- "We have learned to adapt, Colonel."

All of a sudden, I had a flash of insight.

- "Is that why there's no Wole Kingdom?"

- "Partly, yes. We do not want a land of our own. If we had one, the Crolians or the Westrons - or even the Penchens - would take it from us. They would take all of our possessions, and perhaps even more."

"The Crolians might see Woles as no more than a valuable food and labor source. The Westrons would probably simply enslave us."

- "But since you have no lands, they can't declare war on you."

- "Oh, they might. We would simply flee. We are not tied to the land. We have no territory to defend."

- "I see." It made sense. "They won't attack, because you would immediately join their enemies. Not as soldiers - but with your wealth, and your knowledge."

- "Possibly." said Lebuc. "We prefer a balance, though. As long as the carnivores fight each other, the Woles are relatively safe."

- "Is that why you've helped the Westrons in the past?" I asked.

- "Ah - you knew of that?"

- "Kanitz does."

- "The Chancellor is very shrewd. Yes, we have assisted the Westrons. And will again."

- "Until we start to win. Then you'll help the Crolians."

- "There is a long way to go, before the Westrons have the upper hand. I mean no offence, Colonel. But their numbers, and their resources, are much greater than yours."

Now I understood. Lebuc was telling me what the Woles wanted Kanitz and the Queen to know: they could be trusted. Whatever assistance or support they were prepared to offer would be genuine.

***

In peace time, the Inhabers - the owners of the regiments - didn't disband their units. They would let some troopers go, if they wished to retire, or change occupations, and keep only a reduced establishment.

They could also hire out their soldiers, as labor. Road and bridge-building were popular projects; so were lumber camps.

But owning a regiment was not a money-making operation. Most Colonels didn't see their soldiers as employees, or their regiment as a business.

Nobles didn't become Inhabers unless they could afford it. There were a few examples of Colonels who'd had to disband their regiments because of a lack of funds. But most knew very well that it was a non-profit endeavour.

It was all about the prestige.

The whole system reminded me of ancient, privately-owned sports teams. For the wealthy owners, it was a matter of pride, to publicly display their vast wealth, and then bask in the reflected glory of the athletes' (or soldiers') successes.

As systems go, Westron army organization was clumsy and inefficient. But as an alternative to universal conscription, it had multiple advantages.

Soldiers could sign on with a regiment for a limited term. At the end of a campaign, they could go back to the fields, or to an occupation, if they chose. There were no press gangs, no coercion of the unwilling. Being a soldier was an honourable choice.

And since the Westrons had adopted a system of prize money, for victorious armies, it could also be a lucrative one.

In Terran history, the British navy of the 17th to 19th centuries had prize money. But sailors were press-ganged, and then subjected to atrocious conditions and savage discipline. 'Rum, sodomy and the lash' - that was Nelson's navy.

Frederick the Great's Prussian army had tremendous discipline. But the soldiers were sometimes kidnapped, and forced into line, and then suffered horrific punishments for the slightest infractions - including being compelled to run the gauntlet.

Who would want to be a soldier, or a sailor, under such conditions?

The desperate, the foolish ... Wellington's army fought well for him, from the Peninsular campaign to Waterloo. He had four words to describe them: scum of the earth. To be fair, he did believe that service in his army had turned them into 'fine fellows'.

I was much happier to see the treatment of Westron soldiers. After their performances at Tonol and Limset, I believed that they deserved every honour.

But with our recent victories, most people were looking forward to a prolonged peace.

Most people - but not all.

***

I went to the Royal Palace quite frequently. Four of my children were there: Airta's twins, Themis' Tonola, and now Kanitz' little Howe. I could visit them all in the same place, and in the process exchange a few words with the Mistress of the Royal Nursery: Princess Maia Simonia.