Chapter 9

Sometime in the early Middle Ages, Scandinavian adventurers called 'Varangians;' from the Slavic word 'Varyag, ' itself a transliteration of 'Viking;' named the local inhabitants east of the Baltic 'Rus.' 'Rus' is believed to come from the Gothic word for 'red, ' but there is ongoing debate on the subject.

The word 'Viking ' was rarely used by the old Scandinavians and its derivation is also controversial. Rather, Scandinavian adventurers were more likely to identify themselves by clan, familial associations or larger political divisions. Clans grouped themselves around strong leaders or by linguistic ties and formed a people, the Svea, the Dane, the Flemming and the Norseman.

In the remote origins of the people called the 'Nordvolk, ' such legendary traditions became similarly romanticised. An explorer called Hronvar was said to have discovered the land of the Nordvolk and he and his kinsmen sailed back to their people to report a land, forested and uninhabited, populated only by wild game aplenty. Hronvar returned with his clan to found communities among the many islands of a broad wide delta land.

Others followed in their footsteps. Most came from the frozen North but others also arrived from farther afield. These 'etrangers' were gradually absorbed by the Nordvolk and their cultural identity disappeared.

'Pelagia' came from the Greek 'Pelagos' or 'sea.' Ensign Golovko assumed Greeks had once settled here and were submerged by the Nordvolk. Little remained of the Greek except in a few traditional surnames. 'Wasserinseln' was a region, a dozen or more islands within the delta, and these 'Wasservolk' maintained some kind of separate identity.

These Wasservolk, and the Nordvolk in general, were a proud and independent people. There may be a kind of rivalry between the various communities but, when faced by a common threat, they displayed a remarkable unity.

A kind of parliament existed, called the 'Althing.' The Althing was more a council of semi-autonomous states and was brought to order by the 'Konig.' The Konig was not the same as a king, however. He was elected, and acted more like the speaker of a modern parliament than a monarch. The real decisions were made by the 'Herren, ' the elected members of the Althing.

There were 'Holmen, Dammen, and Dunnen' to describe the various towns and villages according to size and importance. Nordholm was the capital, where the Althing sat, and Dam described a town with a great hall, like Pelagia. A Dun was little more than a village and was usually inhabited by blood relatives.

To Ensign Golovko, it was pretty similar to old Germanic practice wherever they'd settled.

Pelagians were all 'Sueben, ' a vague ethnic division within the Nordvolk. They spoke a closely related dialect, but that was pretty much all that distinguished them from their bretheren.

Most coastal towns of reasonable size were charged with the maintenance of a 'Skarsgarderbatarna, ' a coastguard vessel. That had been the decision of the Althing some years ago. The Skarsgard doubled as a navy and Golovko learned there were two dozen such vessels around the coast. The Farnow were known as 'de Zeemen' to the Nordvolk and Golovko discovered they'd pretty much kept to themselves in the past. However, about 6 or 7 years ago, the Farnow had begun to acquire weapons and a capability to challenge the Nordvolk on the high seas. So concerned were they for their coastal trade, the Skarsgard was created. The Skarsgarderbatarna were generally too fast and well-armed to be taken on by de Zeemen.

The emergence of the Retvizan from the middle of the river was bound to cause consternation. Golovko had tried to prepare their new hosts as much as he could, but a submersible vessel the size of the Retvizan was well beyond anything they'd encountered.

The etrangeren, they figured, were from the semi mythical 'Farzeeland.' The philosophical among the Nordvolk always imagined continents on the other side of the sea. Indeed, explorers had set out periodically but returned, having discovered nothing, or disappeared without trace. The arrival of boats and strangers equipped with wonderful technology merely confirmed the adventurers were correct, there was a Farzeeland.

Golovko learned a steamer had arrived 2 years ago near a Dam up the coast. These etrangeren had brought ashore portable generators and the acoutrements of modern living to construct themselves a new home. They'd learned to communicate, had adapted reasonable well, and the local Nordvolk were proud of their new citizens. With such goodwill existing towards etrangeren, the Diana and Retvizan's arrival had not caused the xenophobia one might've expected.

The Retvizan had duly emerged and the citizens of Pelagia had gaped wide-eyed at this marvel. Golovko had negotiated the landing of some the sub's crew and Commander Gorshin, and his, now, first officer Pavlov came ashore in inflatibles. The Retvizan's officers were turned out like visiting heads of state in their full dress uniforms. The local council turned out in their own best attire and, not for the first time, Golovko translated himself to exhaustion.

The Meister was a middle aged, slightly portly man called Ander Sparfisc. His wife was the Meisterer, Gisel Luftvar, and she was as skinny as a rake. Both gloried in the attention Pelagia was receiving. Boats steadily arrived brimful of visitors, all dying to see this 'Grossunterzeebatarna Raatvisa og Russien.'

Officials gradually arrived from the capital, Nordholm, including members of the judiciary and the Althing. On the third day of their visit, however, finally they encountered the rumoured fellow etrangeren.

"Holy shit!" were the first words uttered to Commander Gorshin by Captain Max Schultz of the 'Seabounty Defender, ' a large ocean going trawler originally out of San Diego. His vessel and crew were returning with their catch, 'all Goddamn filleted and packaged, ' when they discovered San Diego wasn't there.

The Skarsgard had discovered them, slowly cruising up the coast of the Nordvolk, and guided them back to the seaport of Harvoldsdam, some twenty leagues down the coast from Pelagia. That had been two years ago and it had taken them that long to admit they were not going home anytime soon. Max had 'gotten m'self a little fillie, ' the teenage daughter of the Meister, and she was pregnant with their second child.

Although one or two other etrangeren had fetched up on the coast, none was as sensational as the Retvizan and its strange mix of passengers and crew.

First, there were 16 Japanese submariners, 3 suffering such severe injuries that they couldn't be moved from the Retvizan's hospital. Much of their patriotic defiance and seeped away as they became aware they were no-longer fighting the Pacific War. Yanagawa Heichiro was the constant companion of Chino's friend Michiko and opted to go on board the Diana.

All told, there were 24 women from 2006 on the Russian flotilla. 4 were from a Greek tourist party, there was a French yachtswoman, 14 Americans, 2 Italians, 2 Canadians and an Australian. Their ages ranged between 13 and 30, all had lost family and friends and, in the circumstances, were coping reasonably well.

The 200 or so etrangeren from the Retvizan and Diana were the largest contingent to have arrived at the lands of the Nordvolk. Practically, there were far more than could be absorbed by Pelagia. Through Golovko, and with Max Schultz also present, Gorshin, Fedyunsky and Pavlov conferred with Ander and Gisel with the object of finding a suitable place to set up some kind of base of operations.

Another person was also present, a representative of the Althing, and was to present terms for granting land in the Nordvolk.

"Etrangeren," he said, "femtie lige nach de Nordlich est un fjord mit alt Dun og Schmetterlinga angelibt. Est un batarnalager grossund haber."

"Right," said Golovko, nodding, "he's saying there's an old village of the Schmetter clan some 50 leagues North. It has a fjord and a deep anchorage. No-one lives there anymore."

"Why?" asked Gorshin.

"Wo?"

"Schmetterlinga viele kinderer nicht tu vortage machen."

"The clan had few children to make a future there, sir," Golovko told them.

"Ze oblege zehn mannen for Landsvaar rendern."

"You must make available ten soldiers for the Nordvolk army."

"Zum Muster, naturlig."

"At the time of Muster, a kind of mobilisation, I think."

"Who are they fighting?" asked Pavlov.

"Wer de Krieg?"

"Non Krieg, aber vortage ankennen."

"No war, but the future is unknown."

"I guess we could live with that?" thought Gorshin, "Pavlov, do you and your boys have a problem joining their militia?"

"I guess not. Seems fair."

"We agree," he told them.

"Une batarna vor de Skarsgard."

"One vessel for the coastguard."

"The Diana?" Gorshin asked Fedyunsky, "as long as you have fuel?"

"That ship of yours run on Diesel oil?" Max Schultz asked.

"It could be made to, I think," Fedyunsky replied.

"We got a thousand tons of it in our bunkers," he told them.

"Okay," Gorshin considered, "tell him we'll have a look at this fjord and see whether it meets our needs."

Golovko translated and the official seemed satisfied.

Gorshin sailed with Fedyunsky in the Diana to inspect Schmetterlingfjord. The fjord was typical, having been gouged out by a glacier. It was almost impossibly deep with mountains rising majestically on each side covered in thick forest. The Schmetterlinga had made their dun at the mouth of a side valley. The village houses had been well-built with cavity log walls within which were stuffed dry peat for insulation. They were in a poor state of repair but nothing a few weeks work couldn't cure.

The channel was navigable for the Retvizan but was not wide enough to permit it to turn around. It was possible to reverse, however, and, with an ebbing tide, a relatively fast transit could be made to the open sea.

By contrast, the Diana could tie up at the jetty, having a relatively shallow draft. The jetty was unsafe but could be repaired easily enough.

Water was plentiful, there was a surfeit of building material, the air seemed fresh with little of the polutants they discovered far out to sea. It appeared a veritable Eden and it was theirs as long as they wanted.

The crew were in an excited mood when they returned to Pelagia. Waiting on the jetty was Roscoe. He'd been hanging out with Max Schultz and his boys and he'd a little more information to pass on.

"Skip?" he said, "it kinda feels like paradise, huh?" Commander Gorshin agreed. "Maybe a bit too nice? What do you think?"

"Schmetterlingfjord is just about perfect for us. What are you thinking, Roscoe?"

"Max had some interesting things to say about these people. Y'know the lands of the Nordvolk range from those mountains back there to the sea. To the south there, 'bout 6 or 700 miles, there's desert. To the North it gets colder and a might inhospitable."

"That's interesting. We must explore all along this coast."

"Sure, but, y'see, there's not really enough of the Nordvolk to hold all that territory. This, here, is paradise. Beyond those mountains are the high plains and the folks there are none too pleased about being denied a slice of this paradise."

"So? You are saying there is conflict?"

"I'm saying the Nordvolk are in need of some modern weapons and a military. The Landsvaar are a levy, a voluntary militia, and they're mighty shorthanded and underarmed."

"So who lives beyond the mountains? Did Max tell you who they are?"

"The Nordvolk call them the 'Svartsmanni, ' the 'Black men."

"Because of their skin colour or missdeeds?"

"Skin colour. They ain't happy with the Japs either, Skip. They think they're Zeemen, just like the Farnow. Max reckons they're madder than the Klan when it comes to racialism."

"You think, perhaps, we are welcomed because we could be used in their wars against other races?"

"Max thinks that's the idea. They've got the best land hereabouts, too much to hold on to. He also said there's plenty of minerals up in the mountains they want to mine. That brings them close to Svartsmanni lands and Max thinks they want to push the frontier out a ways to protect their diggin's."

"So they want us for a little ethnic cleansing so they can develop their economy?"

"And any advantage your technology can give them. Imagine what machine guns will do against folks with nothing more than flintlocks?"

"Defence is one thing, but I will not countenance an aggressive war against the Nordvolk's neighbours. Our men will not be used in this way. We must explain this."

"You'll get nothin' but cackle out of the officials, skip. Max says they're mighty cagey about it all."

"Thank you. We will wait and see. Perhaps this Max is being speculative?"

"Hope so, Skip," Roscoe told him.

Chino gazed upon the majestic scenery of Schmetterlingfjord in wonder. Thick forest came down to the water, White Pine and Mountain Beech, and beneath, clumps of waving sedge and red-flecked Coprosma. Along the water's edge ranged thickets of stout reeds.

Through the trees, Banded Rails, Fantails and Wood Pidgeons squabbled over tasty insects and small mammals. The Sueben told her of Long-Haired Mountain Goats and Brown Bears as well as Ring-Tailed Foxes and several varieties of small rodents. It seemed unlikely that anyone would willingly abandon such a place as this.

The settlement the Schmetters made was run down and the tracks overgrown. The side valley had paths cut into the rockface and there was a ledge, which had once been used as a garden. They must've been a small clan and the Dun was going to need expanding if it was going to accommodate its new occupants.

Valentine loved the place. He gazed in awe at the mountains and invited Chino climbing with him. He vowed to show her the view from the top of the highest peak but she demurred for the present. There'd be time enough once they'd settled in. Meanwhile the Retvizan was to be their home until enough houses could be built ashore.

The fjord cut long into the mountains the crews called the Coastal Range. Further along, waterfalls thundered down the rock and the geography became more contorted and awe inspiring. It was as if the world ended there, right at those forbidding mountains, and nothing was beyond.

But Chino had heard of the Svartsmanni, the semi mythical black men of the high plains. None of the Sueben had seen one and some doubted they even existed. Children learned of them as bogies that came in the night, the sandman that steal child's souls who are still awake after midnight.

The Sueben were fishermen and seafarers with little interest in the ambitions of those of the Nordvolk who depended on the production of metals, the Cheruschen. Politically, the Sueben believed the Cheruschen wielded too much influence at the Althing. It was an historic rivalry that went back generations.

Igor Golovko had explained all this to Chino as well as the unsettling news Johnny Pavlov was to lead a squad of marines in the service of the Nordvolk Landsvaar. She sought him out, wanting to make sure he'd been acquainted with the political machinations.

"Yes, of course I know this," he assured her, "despite what you think, I'm no mercenary. I have vowed to defend, nothing more."

"The Althing granted us this beautiful place. I can't believe they expect nothing in return."

"Chino? What do you expect me to say or do? I've told you I don't start wars."

"You did on Havai?"

"That's not fair," he replied, angrily, "we had prisoners that couldn't be freed any other way. I don't wish to debate this with you the rest of my life."

Chino watched as Pavlov stumped off towards the boat that was going to take him back the the Retvizan. 'That could've gone better, ' she thought.

Johnny Pavlov stirred her insides like no-one else, but they just didn't get along. Despite her street pretentions she was nothing more than an upper middle class kid from the 'right' side of town. Her parents were liberal and committed to a bewildering number of causes.

It still bothered her that she could've fired down a blind tunnel not knowing whether there were people at the other end of it. Amy had been right, she may have killed someone. But, if truth be told, she was in such a blind panic she didn't know what she was doing.

She saw Roscoe and Anastasia not far way. They had selected their home, a run down log cabin, and he was explaining to her how he was going to improve it. The Frenchwoman had a couple of Russians for company and were sharing a bottle of wine they'd found somewhere. Michiko was attending to Heichiro. Other couples were walking, talking of just hanging out. She looked for Valentin but he was out walking somewhere. There were dozens of others, she thought, there was plenty fish in the sea.

"Gentlemen," Commander called the meeting to order, "I have called us all together for a briefing on the current state of affairs. We have found our base of operations for the present. Questions still remain as to exactly what price the Nordvolk will demand? But we will consider any further request and, should it be unacceptable, we will refuse. Are these Svartmanni mythical? We don't know at present. Is there anything at all beyond those mountains? Perhaps we might find out? We have a few mountainers among the crew and we should all be used to cold weather," he chuckled.

"Do we know what's to the North?" asked Fedyunsky.

"Ice, tundra... we might discover that for ourselves, also, perhaps."

"What about West, sir? This Farzeeland?" Pavlov queried.

"The West, huh?" Gorshin laughed, "from the birth of the Russian nation, always our people have wanted to go West?"

"A fair question, nonetheless?" Fedyunsky added.

"Yes, I agree," Gorshin said, "but we have plenty to discover here for the present. Perhaps later we might seek this Farzeeland. We certainly have the endurance, but how far is it? What supplies would we need for such a voyage?"