Chapter 15: Fall, the Start of the Seventh Year of His Grace King James

Liuz felt something crawling onto his sleeping body.

It was small, with two hands and (ow) two knees. It climbed onto him at his thighs, slowly making its way up onto his chest. There were three possibilities as to its identity. Liuz waited, readying himself. There was a giggle, followed by two "shhh" sounds. Ah. That narrowed it down. As small hands came down over his nipples, Liuz shot his hands up to grab Livtar.

The year old Watu let out a laughing scream, his furry arms swatting at Liuz. His two sisters swiftly climbed up and onto Liuz, laughing as they joined the attack. Liuz dropped Livtar, arms wrapping around Sachleen and Mahann as they kicked and screamed. Clawed feet stood on his bare chest, the boy trying to force his arms open to free his sisters. Sensing his chance, Liuz opened his arms and grabbed the boy as well. All three toddlers laughed as they struggled for freedom.

"Good morning!"

Harveen's voice came from beside him. She was on her side, grey eyes seeming to sparkle in the morning light. He could only give a grunt as a reply, their children doing a good job of pressing down on his stomach, forcing most of the air out. Deciding he had proven his fatherly superiority, Liuz opened his arms. The three fur balls scrambled off of him, still laughing and giggling. Harveen rolled over onto her back.

"Breakfast!"

It was her turn to be attacked, each going for their favorite among her six nipples. A slight groan came from her lips, her hands coming up to redistribute their weight on her body. Liuz sat up, swinging his legs off the bed.

"They're heavier."

"That's good."

"I know." Standing, he walked over to the water basin, grabbing the sponge to give his body a quick wipe. His eyes went back to the kids. They were growing faster than Polish babies. He remembered Kasia when she was born, and more recently Urszuli's baby. Was the difference that Watu didn't live as long, so they had to grow up quicker? Who could say.

He paused, sponge held against his right armpit. Why couldn't anyone say? Hadn't anyone compared the races? Maybe they had. But, if not ... that was something that should be done. Pole, Watu, Kikker, Elf, Gritic ... what was their life cycle? Where did they prefer to settle? What was their culture like? That knowledge should be collected, studied. Lower animals, too. And plants. Farmers, hunters, and herdsmen probably knew all, but it should be written down. Shared. He'd have to talk to His Grace about it. The King liked that kind of thing. Didn't necessarily like finding the funds to pay for it, but he understood the need.

Tossing on a shirt and pair of pants, only half paying attention to which went where, he walked out of the bedroom and made his way to the common room. Most were already there, spilling over to the second table. Too many, to his mind, but it was so convenient to have everyone live here. More time for work, and play. His eyes flicked to Natan. The glassblower was peering down at something Kasia was reading beside him. That he had decided to move here, rather than ask Kasia to join him, outweighed any objection or jealousy Liuz might have. Plus, he was a wonderful craftsman. Those safety goggles had already saved Zarek's eyes twice.

"Good morning, Sir!"

Yaa's greeting brought a smile to his face as he sat in his chair. The others echoed it as the Kikker girl placed a plate of sausage with a hunk of cheese in front of him.

"And good morning to you, Yaa." She blushed a bit, rope skirt twirling as she spun away to get his drink. Kasia reached over to touch his arm.

"You were attacked again?"

"It's getting to be the norm. So far, I'm winning."

His sister grinned at him, expression seeming to doubt his take on the war. Well, she wasn't there to see his defensive tactics. Grabbing his knife and fork, he cut a piece off the sausage. He needed food if his winning streak was to continue.

The day was overcast. He wasn't sure if rain was coming, but wouldn't be surprised. With the cliff blocking the view west, you could never see clouds until they were right over you. They might have to postpone that test firing of the new, larger cannon. Liuz was almost glad of that. First tests tended to be ... more exciting than he liked.

Glancing up at the prototype semaphore tower, he saw nobody up there yet. He sighed. Someone had to check and see if there were any messages from the King. He made his way up the wooden stairs circling the tower. He had been nervous when his sister had proposed a replacement for His Grace's flag system. After all, it worked, and, well, was the King's. But the flags were not always easy to read if there was no wind, and you were limited in what you could say. Her semaphores were, indeed, an improvement. Wooden paddles quickly set at various angles, easy to read from a distance, could be quickly changed to send long, complicated messages. Still useless at night, or in fog or a storm, but nothing was perfect.

Reaching the top, he grabbed the telescope and scanned the capital. No message, semaphore or flag, for him. Good. That was as it should be. Lowering the glass, he gazed at the distant harbor. Liuz frowned. There seemed to be too many ships, especially for this early in the morning. The locks did not even open until dawn. He raised the viewer again. Kikker ships. Why in the world...

He heard a horse. Looking down, he saw it coming not from the city, but from the road leading to Visvang. Riding it was...

A Watu.

Liuz blinked. How was that even possible? Shaking his head, he swiftly made his way to the ground.

"I must speak with Harveen!" The rider pulled back violently on the reins, whether out of the importance of his message or fear of the horse itself was unclear. His feet were nowhere near the stirrups, control of the animal most likely tenuous at best.

"HARVEEN!" Liuz cocked his head at the messenger, not sure if he should offer to help him down. If he was going to be off again, there was little point. The door to the house opened, Harveen coming out onto the porch with all three cubs running beside her. Her expression on seeing the rider seemed to mirror his.

"Speak Polish," she said, before the poor messenger could speak. "No secrets. What is it?"

"Lady Harveen, Moeras has fallen to the Elves."

Liuz felt cold as he pictured the map in his mind. Moeras was far to the west, at least a hundred miles beyond where the Warta met the sea. A Kikker city, as were most on the coast. Taken by Elves? Why? He felt Harveen grabbing his arm.

"Did all our people get out? Which Elves?"

"We got out, barely. Refugees filled every ship in the harbor. I think it was the Southern Princedom. The banners were black and yellow."

Ships. Refugees. Liuz took a step towards the rider.

"Where did the refugees go?"

"Here."

Kasia felt her head throb.

She was the only one sitting at the rectangular table in the Palace council room. She wasn't sure why they weren't in the round table room. Maybe it was that this one had maps on the walls, was closer to some of the administrative offices. Officers and officials stood around her, moving maps around as they babbled, as if doing so helped in some way. His Grace and Chief Ajani stood at the far end, heads together. She looked back down at the papers before her.

"If you put them over here," she said, pointing to a spot on the map south of the falls, "you'd better have them moved by spring. We have plans for that land."

"We have plans for all the land. For Polish use." The well dressed man beside her sighed sympathetically. "That, at least, is in Kikker country."

"Your Grace," an officer said, bowing slightly, "we can't let them off the ships here. Not even to stretch their legs. There will be no getting them back on ships. Our census shows at least two hundred soldiers so far. It will be a disaster." A Hussar nodded.

"You've said it yourself, Your grace. Refuge camps tend to become permanent, and this Island is for Poles and Chief Ajani's people."

"They could join his people."

"They'd outnumber him, want to install their own leaders. We can't have that!"