Chapter 12

Shanna was beginning to lose track of time.

She sat on the bank of the river, ground rising behind her to cut off all sights and most sounds of the distant wagon camps. The night sky was clear, stars shining down. So, too, lights from across the river blinked at her. Buildings hugged the far bank, square windows looking across the dark flowing water.

Windows. Buildings. People. Yet, not people. Not humans. Whoever lived over there, they were not human. They were ... well, she didn't know. Apart from the Elven soldier she had met that first morning in this world, she had only known these Polish exiles. The world they lived in, beyond this endless road, was still a mystery. Might, in fact, not exist. Might...

"Hiding again, I see."

Piotr's voice brought Shanna back to reality, or at least the fantasy she currently called home. She leaned back, hands on the ground behind her, breasts displayed through her thin shirt in a way quite natural and accidental. She kept her eyes across the river.

"I hate those meetings."

"Same here." Piotr sat down beside her. He copied her pose, left hand almost touching her right. She could sense that without even looking. She felt herself relax even more, even as her heart beat faster.

"You don't sit with your father at these?"

"No. We said hello, talked a bit before they got going. I'm too low to be officially invited into the circle, although if the King needed me I'd stand behind him."

She nodded.

"Same here. If James wants me to sit there looking all foreign and dangerous, I'll do it, but listening to those merchants and nobles just gives me a headache. The officers aren't much better."

"Yeah. I'm a fighter, not a talker."

Shanna turned to the young man, eyebrow arching. He was looking at her in ways she quite liked.

"We have a saying," she said, "in my world, about how some people are fighters, not lovers."

"Really." Piotr seemed suddenly closer, although she did not think he had moved. "Well, I can honestly say I'm both."

"Oh?"

"You doubt me?"

"Prove it."

Her lips met his half way, her eyes closed. Yes. God, yes ... finally ... Shanna felt her body lowering itself on to the hillside, grass tickling the gap between her shirt and pants. She sensed Piotr's male, so very male, body rise over her, legs straddling her thighs. That wasn't going to work. Hands grabbing his arms, she rolled them over, his muffled cry of surprise ignored. Breaking the kiss, she raised her head, legs now straddling his crotch as her hands held his to the ground.

Much better.

"You need to work on your defenses." Her voice was low, throaty. She could feel his manhood pressing up, its natural home only a few layers of clothing away. His eyes ... even in the starlight, she found herself lost in those blue eyes. The boy licked his lips.

"I ... I have no defense against you."

God. Shanna lowered herself, hands releasing his, moving to caress his chest, his face. She pressed her forehead to his, their noses touching.

"I love you," she whispered. His entire body trembled under her. She wondered if he was virgin, or had only taken whores. Well. She would teach him. Teach him how equals make love, if...

"Oh, God above ... I love you, Shanna..."

The magic words.

Let the lovemaking begin.

James hated these meetings.

The main problem, for him, was that he had to listen to people who should stay silent. Had to quietly listen to self-important pricks go on and on about some problem already solved, minor nobles or merchants who wanted to make sure all knew they were still there and powerful. Speeches masquerading as questions, questions masquerading as thinly veiled threats. It was stupid. It was pointless.

It was, in effect, this culture's closest thing to democracy.

He rotated his shoulder, getting a kink out. This gathering was the largest yet. Every unit commander. Every merchant family head, every noble, every guild master. All gathered, with their seconds, around the fire. All gazing at him. Wondering how he could be used. Manipulated. Or worshiped. There were a few of those among them, mostly people he really did not want to associate with. They could be allies, though. Politics, bedfellows, etc. James would not piss anyone off.

Unless they were fucking idiots.

Deciding it was time, he stood, hands up.

"I think, Gentlemen, we should start with a prayer."

They stood, quieting, heads bowed. Brother Ofim stepped forward.

"Our Father and Mother, who are in heaven..."

It was the little things that still threw James off. The parts of this world almost like his own he had the hardest time accepting. Would he ever not keep mentally defaulting to his version of the Lord's Prayer? It would have been easier if they had worshiped a tree or something, although given the current situation that probably would have led to all sorts of religious turmoil. At least they weren't practicing something like child sacrifice.

That he had noticed.

" ... In the name of the Father, the Mother, and the Son. Amen."

"Amen."

James sat, the others following suit. Captain Putaski was not at his side, for which he was glad. He liked the man, but...

"So. What is the point of this meeting?" One of the nobles spoke up from across the fire. James could not remember his name. He had daughters, though. He knew that. Every man here with daughters had mentioned the fact. Several times. With long descriptions, and invitations to visit their encampment. He had resisted so far, although a part of him was curious as to how a Polish "Princess" tried to capture a King. It could be ... fun.

Captain Putaski stood from his seat among his fellow officers.

"We are here, Noble Sir, to decide on how to conduct the final phase of this migration."

"We still have time," a voice said. The Captain smiled.

"Yes, but soon we won't. We all want to get across and settled before winter. Before late summer, even. It is time to plan."

Much of the planning, naturally, had already been done. James had even been there for some of it. So much of this was theater.

"So what are we doing?" This came from the head of the weaving guild. The army engineer Tadeusz stood, papers in hand.

"What I would like to do, if it has the support of everyone here, is a repeat of His Grace's plan for the river crossing." The man nodded to James. Of all the older officers, James seemed to get along with him the best. "If we push ahead with a large advance force of solders, engineers, and laborers, I think we can get to the coast a good week before the wagons. That will give us time to find a small inlet to use as a harbor, build our fortifications. Sturdier, this time, as who knows how long we'll be there. Start on the ships."

"How long for those?"

"Can't say. I have designs, and we'll probably try several. See what's easiest to build, sturdiest. We may very well just push small groups across to start working on homes as soon as we have something that floats."

"What about those on the island?"

James looked over at the Captain. Nothing had been said about the large island being inhabited. He wasn't surprised, though. A place like that would be a perfect place for a fishing village, or even a pirate hideout. If they were only talking a hundred or so people ... well, it wasn't like the Poles could go someplace else. Everything was riding on getting these families across to safety. And it WOULD be safe for them, one way or another...

"As far as we know," the Captain said, "it's just a few fishermen. Watu. We have no quarrel with them. I will lead a group across to ... negotiate."

Did James trust him to do that? Would whatever the Captain did be, in the long run, best for the people, regardless of the King's moral take on his actions? This was a different world, after all. A critical situation. Well, there was time, still, to worry about all that. Another man stood, clothing plainer than most.

"When can we get crops in? It's late, yes, but there are late summer crops we can still plant that will help make up for everything we left in the fields. The winter will be lean, but if we can get something in the ground we won't starve."

James leaned forward. He could take this one.

"The plan, as Tadeusz and I have discussed, is to build a permanent settlement where we camp before the crossing. Our foothold on the mainland. If there's suitable land nearby, put your crops in. We will set defenses around it. Now, we may lose everything you put in, so I'll leave that choice up to you, but if the choice is that or starving, well, I don't like starving."

The farmer nodded, sitting back down. The Captain looked like he was about to speak again. James stood.

"As long as we are all gathered, I would like to speak to you." The look on Captain Putaski's face was worth it, even if it did result in a dagger in his back at some point. Piotr's father, winged armor sparkling in the firelight, regarded him with interest. He nodded to the Commander.

"We are coming to the end of our journey. To the end of the crisis. Once we cross that water to our new home, we start again. Rebuild. Create our new society. The question is, do we recreate Nowy Kiev, as it was, or do we take this opportunity to start over?"

There were many frowns, mostly among the well bred nobles, but officers as well. He took note of those who leaned forward with interest.