Lessons Learned
Taylor's car was large enough for twenty armed bulwarks, but Nexus materials had half the space. An even share of food for provender, rough smelt for weapons, books for the library, attire for the desert, and indispensable tools for educating disciples was evenly spread across six trains as protection against total loss of any one resource. The car's free half was taken up by Taylor and some of the people who had known him since before he became Phillip the Younger. The spiny-haired cousins, Milo and Mila, in their zeal to be his shields, sat between him and the windows to either side. Across from him was the former royal guard Inez, beside the austere older priest Mika.
"Well Young Master, did you learn anything?" Inez was Taylor's best spear and had the most experience fighting against people. It had been her idea to pit Taylor against the general. It's not every day one meets a great swordsman on a field of battle, and she had urged him not to waste the opportunity.
"I learned I have a lot to learn." Taylor tried to look out the window but was blocked by the view of Mila's yellow spikes. He could feel the gurantors' six-legged stride accelerating as they took the downward slope of the road beyond the pass, into the long descent towards Ullidia's interior.
"Be more specific." Inez wasn't only a follower, she was also his teacher in martial matters.
"He didn't anticipate my moves, he planned them. But, I can't figure out how he did it. He didn't have to stop and think about it. It just happened. If we were fighting without the arts I would have lost." Taylor tried to imagine fighting Gustave on equal terms and shivered. "He uses a sword like I do the arts. What a frightening opponent."
"But what if you did have to fight him again, without the arts?"
"I would choose to have him on my side."
"That's not an option," she said with impatient voice. "He's your enemy and you have to fight him without prayers. How do you do it?"
Taylor knew the answer without thinking. "I wouldn't face him in melee, that's for sure. I'd use ranged attacks from a height, poison, traps, anything to keep me out of reach of his blade. If I could box him in and pierce him with a hundred spears, that would do the trick. But given the way he saw through all my feints, trapping him would be hard. If we were on flat terrain with no weapon but a sword, I'd run." Taylor nodded to himself, "I could definitely outrun him. I bet his stamina isn't what it used to be. When he got tired, I'd throw rocks at his head. After he went down I'd keep throwing rocks at him. That man could be half-conscious and still kill with a sword.
"How did you know about him, anyway?"
"He's been a famous swordsman for decades. When I was new in the palace he came with a delegation from Ullidia and took on all challengers. Even then, he was a devious opponent. I fell to him several times." From her wistful expression, Taylor wondered exactly what she meant by "fell" but thought better of asking for a clarification. There were some things he didn't need to know.
Inez came back to herself. "There is another thing, Young Master. You are too kind to your enemies."
"I ordered the disciples to be killed, didn't I? What more were you hoping for?"
"I'm talking about Gustave and his men. If Ullidia fights for Enclave, they'll field men with the most fight. Gustave and his Eastern Watch fit the bill."
"They're not our enemies, Inez. They're just soldiers for a small country getting pushed around by Enclave. When this is over, I want them to remember us as merciful agents and not bloodthirsty savages."
"You're leaving dangerous men at our backs."
"Those men will see their families again because we spared their lives in battle here. They won't forget."
"You're too optimistic. You want to be friends with everyone, but nations only have interests."
Taylor couldn't deny that, but after fighting the general he didn't think Gustave would send his men to certain death without good reason and a method to victory.
"If we had this fight again tomorrow, do you think that he could win?"
"Not a chance," she said, "unless we blundered."
"And don't you think Gustave knows that? It's not in Ullidia's interest to throw away their best soldiers. And they've been warned."
"They won't take Mika's warning seriously when you just spared their entire force."
"According to you, the master knows a man by his sword. If you're right, he'll believe me. Perhaps his ministers will listen to him. If not, we'll harrow soldiers till they surrender. Brother Mika, what's on your mind?"
"The same as Inez, Young Master. And also, Francisca Odemira wants to visit, when you've read the book she lent you."
"You mean Anisca," corrected Taylor. "I don't care for princesses, but since she's here let's keep her name a secret. Even among ourselves."
The volume by Taylor's side was Living in Morufu's Hand, by Clintus Odemira, Francisca's uncle. It was the only book about Calique, exotic people dwelling in the south, penned by a misfit royal of Lavradio. He slipped away from royal life, escaped to live in Kravikas's arid wastes. The royals found him out in later years and brought him home by use of force and coin, but Clintus always yearned for desert life. He left his memories, and regrets, in Hand.
> Sand Castle is well known as a wondrous marketplace, a crossroads for caravans bound from all three regions of the Tenobre continent. Well-known too are the Calique hunters, proud men who patrol the streets in dark-colored skirts to keep the peace. Chief among them is their Maul, not the strongest hunter but the wisest who is able-bodied. Under him are Spears, each of whom leads a band of hunters. There are also Hands, men who do not hunt but are chiefs in brick-making, building, coir-threshing, and other crafting pursuits acceptable to menfolk.
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> If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
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> Women also have Hands who take charge of coir weavers, potters, and similar crafts acceptable for women. Among the womenfolk, gardening is the most prestigious profession. You can see them daily in the oasis that dominates Sand Castle, tending to the plants that provide almost everything the people eat, wear, and use. The best among the gardeners may be named Tablas for their wisdom, and chief among the tablas is their Doyenne.
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> It comes as a surprise to the uninitiated that the Doyenne and her Tabla Circle govern the Garden (that is what Calique call any settlement). The tablas know the measure of every thing in their village. They know the count of people and animals, the health of water and land, the number of coconuts they will harvest in a season, and how much life their garden can sustain. They apportion goods, approve marriages, and decide which women are permitted to conceive. The men will not go to war without their sanction, and they obey the dictates of the Circle while they reside in the garden.
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> Doyennes with their tablas, and mauls with their spears, all command by consent. Women and men rise to their positions with support from below, not above. When compared to the zealous tyranny of Kashmar or the debt-bondage of Hyskos, Calique seem preoccupied with liberty. I believe their strangest traditions arose to give alternatives where the usual laws impinge unduly on a person's liberty.
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> I will give one example here. Adults are permitted to work only in roles acceptable to their sex, a rule that appears at first to be absolute. Yet a woman may be a hunter if she is willing to dress and act the part of a man, and a man may tend the garden if he is willing to dress and act the part of a woman. All the village embraces this fiction so long as the actor maintains their pretense. Surely more than a few of these pretenders are true flexurals settling into their place as they would elsewhere, but a great many act a part to work their desired professions.
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> The importance of liberty is exceeded only by the ideal of group care. No person living within the garden's wall goes hungry, thirsty, or homeless. Whenever liberty clashes irreconcilably with care, care takes priority. This value of collective well-being has its roots in the garden, the source of life itself, and grows outward from there.
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> The garden's green vitality is the greatest good, more important than the lives of mere men. If a population exceeds its garden's capacity, some number of men are sent away. It is rare for a garden to force anyone to leave, even in dire circumstances, because men will volunteer to make room for a youth or a woman. Many of these "extra men" will join another garden that has space and desire for them. Some will join caravans and experience the world. Still others will live in the desert, with only wind for company.
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> It sounds incredible that men would give up their place in town, having weapons at their disposal and the will to use them. But hunters in the garden often say, "A man is freest past the garden wall".
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> -- Clintus Odemira. Living in Morufu's Hand.
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The trains moved relentlessly, round switchbacks and over bridges, to rocket by small detachments of soldiers who pretended not to notice their passing. They stopped a few times, briefly, to feed and water the gurantors while teachers drilled students in high-intensity exercises. Classes didn't stop because they were in exile, they got more serious. Every prayer memorized was a new survival tool. Each new technique could save a life. As soon as gurantors had their fill the trains were loaded (with some teachers switching cars) and they were underway again.
Taylor read Clintus's Hand through most of the first day. His original plan had been to arrive in Kravikas, kill the calamitous dark monster that occupied Sand Castle, and thereby gain the friendship of the Calique. He could then settle Nexus somewhere in the desert, maybe in Sand Castle or maybe another oasis, with Calique as his allies. When Enclave inevitably came for them in force he would have distance and difficult terrain on his side. Perhaps, he would have Calique fighters too.
That was all a pipe dream. Calique didn't trust outsiders and didn't let them near the gardens. Sand Castle was the exception, and even there the activities of merchants and other outsiders were closely watched. Clintus lived for years in Sand Castle before he was invited to another garden. And, the gardens were independent. They shared the same culture, and they routinely exchanged people, but they didn't have a central government. The closest they came was a yearly council in Sand Castle, where issues between gardens were negotiated and settled.
The trade city itself was a kind of shared enterprise between the gardens. The burden of protecting trade roads, maintaining wells, clearing dangerous animals, collecting taxes, and guarding the city was divided among the gardens, who received specified goods in return. Outside of Sand Castle, Calique rarely had a use for money.
The monster in Kravikas was exceptionally deadly: it had emptied Sand Castle and killed five Enclave disciples. To kill the monster, Taylor needed information from hunters who faced it and survived. The hunters wouldn't see him without permission from their doyennes. But Taylor couldn't talk to the doyennes directly: he needed a woman to speak for him.
At the last rest stop before sundown, Francisca came aboard with Kasryn. The former was the second princess of Lavradio. The latter was an ex-Enclave prelate and ambassador. Between the two of them, Taylor knew which one he trusted to speak for him.
"I can't speak for you," Kasryn said before he could ask, "to any of the doyennes."
"Why not? Aren't you a trained diplomat?"
"I am."
"Then what's the problem? Did Anisca promise you something to step aside?"
Kasryn frowned, while Francisca's lips turned into a pretty bow, the princess version of the common smirk.
"It is rude to accuse someone of taking bribes, Brother Phillip, especially to their faces." The prelate sounded like a mother, patiently explaining to her child why they should not rip the wings off butterflies.
"I'm not accusing. I'm asking. Because bribery would feel at home with all her other unsavory skills."
"They're not unsavory," Francisca claimed innocently, "they're persuasive. I'm only trying my best to be useful to you. I didn't have to volunteer. This is going to interfere with my research, you know."
Taylor pretended to ignore Francisca. "Why can't you do it, Kasryn?"
"Over a decade ago I was given a post in Sand Castle. It wasn't my first posting, but it was my first time around people who were so different. I thought they were primitive. I didn't know anything about their ways, and I didn't try to learn. Ignorance became arrogance, and I told the doyennes they were fools. To their faces. In public.
"I would be a poor representative for you, Brother Phillip. People will remember my face and my name. Anisca is your only other choice."
Taylor suppressed a groan. Francisca was troublesome. She wanted things and tended to go after them without thinking about anyone else. But she wasn't without her skills. She might be useful if he could keep her pointed at other people.
"I'll think about it," he said. "In any case, the old plan is already broken so we need to make a new one."
Inez produced the large-scale map of Kravikas that Nexus had developed from multiple sources and laid it where everyone could see it. Some aspects of the map made better sense to Taylor now that he had read Clintus's book. Like how the trade routes avoided oases except for Sand Castle. Or how gardens clustered in certain areas of the desert and avoided others.
They worked and planned until sundown. Then Taylor had to take his next meeting, on the wind.