Date: Fri, 30 Jan 2015 08:29:36 -0500
From: George Gauthier <georgegauthierdc@gmail.com>
Subject: Elf-Boy's Friends 9

			Elf-Boy's Friends 9
			The Far West, Part V of V
 			by George Gauthier

[The further adventures of characters from the novel 'Elf-Boy and Friends']

		Chapter 19. The Despotate of Dzungaria

Colonel Ifans provided Drew and the twins with mounts taken from dead
mercenaries for the trip across the border and into the Despotate. The
twins noticed that riders in these lands still used old-fashioned pronged
saddles. The modern saddle used in the Commonwealth had stirrups which
afforded a rider a secure seat. A mounted soldier with his feet braced in
stirrups was more effective whether with brandished sword or couched lance.

Their party of nine rode in a column of twos with the twins in front of
Drew and Finn behind. Finn lead their pony with their packs and gear.

"Lost in thought?" Drew asked Finn who hadn't had much to say since they
set out.

"Mmm. I was just thinking that today was the first time I killed a man. Oh
that baron was an evil sort and he needed killing. He brought it upon
himself, didn't he, attacking us like that? Still, when all is said and
done, he was a man. Killing centaurs was different."

"You are right about that Finn. I don't have any regrets about the centaurs
I killed either. I never considered them to be people -- not just because
of their alien shape but because they were one of the sentients races that
has no magic, centaurs, trolls, and orcs."

"Still I am glad that I did not have to take a man's life today. And I
don't feel that I was any less a part of the fight either."

"You are correct, Young Altair" the colonel remarked. "Each of you took on
the foes he was best suited to deal with. In your case Drew Altair it was
those hunting dogs. And yes, killing animals and creatures like centaurs is
one thing. Killing men or elves or dwarfs or giants is something else
entirely."

"When you kill someone you take from him all that he is or ever will
be. You take all he has or ever will have. He loses not only his life,
family, friends, and possessions, he loses his future. And whatever the
provocation, a man is not just the worst thing he has ever done. Even a bad
man may change for the better, given the chance."

"You are quite the philosopher, Colonel." Drew said.

"Hardly. My family were paupers, and I had little schooling beyond my
letters and figuring. I educated myself through books in which men wiser
than I am had set down their thoughts for the instruction of the
generations to come after them. You should know the value of books. You
yourself are an accomplished author, twice winner of the annual Writer's
Prize in the Commonwealth. I've read your books; they were good reads."

"Yes, the first won the award for journalism and the second for history."

"I hate to interrupt this mutual admiration society," Jemsen interjected,
"but I have to ask how are we supposed to cross the river that lies just
ahead?"

"By ferry. The landing is upriver a ways," the colonel said pointing to
where the road turned to the right to follow the river upstream.

"The River Conwy marks our southern border. For security reasons, we
haven't allowed a bridge to be built here. A foe might use it to invade our
lands."

"Do you really expect attack? The Alliance formed against you is defensive
in nature. Besides, the member states are so divided and have so many
problems at home that they are unlikely to embark on such a chancy
venture."

"You make a good point, Jemsen. Yet we know that some members of the
Alliance originally hoped the Commonwealth would destroy the Despotate in a
straight-forward military campaign."

"But the Commonwealth would never agree to something like that." Jemsen
objected.

"No they wouldn't. We of the Despotate realize that now. But perhaps I have
said too much. Hold your questions till you meet the First Despot. He is
the first among the nine leaders who direct our affairs."

On the way to the ferry crossing they passed a spot where half-a-dozen thin
naked boys were jumping and diving into the river. A tree on the far side
leaned out over the river and provided a fine jumping-off point.

After the boys splashed into the water they allowed the current to carry
them down to the meander in the river where they fetched up in the
shallows. From there they clambered out of the water only to run along the
riverbank back to the tree and jump off again. The boys shouted back and
forth and joked and laughed and carried on as boys will, clearly having a
grand time. And why not? What boy does not like to jump and run and climb
and swim in the company of his friends?

"Those lads seem happy and healthy enough though still skinny from their
growth spurt." Jemsen observed.

"They are. Now." the colonel smiled, showing genuine warmth for the first
time. "They would not have been like that in the old days only a few years
ago." the colonel added.

The ferry was large enough to carry their whole party across at once. Two
mules pulled ropes wound around a capstan that reeled in the line attached
to the bow of the barge drawing it to the landing on the far bank. A thick
guide cable strung through steel rings along the gunwale on the upstream
side kept the barge from being pushed downstream by the current pressing
against its starboard side. The cable could be let out and sunk to the
bottom to let boats pass up or downstream.

Meandering generally east to west in that stretch, thirty yards wide, with
brush-choked ground rising on the far side, and with a muddy bottom ten
feet below the surface, the River Conwy all by itself formed a substantial
military barrier to northward movement.

The guardhouse and a squad of troops stationed on the other side showed how
seriously the Despotate took its security. With the colonel to vouch for
them, the travelers skipped the formalities and continued along the road
which soon rejoined the river as its course bent northward. A while later
they found themselves passing through a valley wide enough for only a
narrow belt of farms in the bottomland besides the road and the river
itself. Watchtowers and a fort at the northern end guarded this entry to
the lands the revolutionaries had taken as their own.

"You would think that the alluvial soils in bottomlands like these would
provide good yields but they don't," the colonel observed. "The marginal
productivity of these lands is why the landowners used to squeeze their
peasants and serfs so hard. To pay for their luxuries, they extracted too
much of the agricultural surplus from those who worked the land. In bad
years, that did not leave enough for the peasants to eat. Many starved or
succumbed to illness from weakened constitutions."

"In the last century alone, the nobles put down five major peasant
rebellions in areas that are now part of the Despotate. Drowned the
uprisings in blood, they did. That reduced pressure for a while because so
many were killed, and the nobles eased their rapaciousness for a while, but
soon the vicious cycle reasserted itself. Our revolution put an end to all
that by sweeping away the landholding classes."

"You mean you killed them." Drew said.

"Not all them, no. Our aim was not extermination but to break the power of
their class over the peasants. True, we slew those who took up arms against
and their hirelings who were mostly human mercenaries. I've never regretted
killing any of them."

"Their best forces, the giants, withdrew from the conflict, abandoning the
landowners to their fate. I devised a stratagem for neutralizing the Frost
Giants who made up their palace guards and their shock troops by offering
them safe passage to the south then on to New Varangia. Six thousand giants
and their families took us up on the offer. Understand, we did not drive
them out. They left of their own accord with their wealth and goods as
emigrants not as refugees."

"Still a revolution is a bloody business, no two ways about it. Our goal
was to destroy the class structure that created oppression, not necessarily
the landowners as individuals. We realized that it was hardly their fault
that they were born into an unjust social system. Like everyone they had to
accommodate themselves to that situation as best they could. There were
many decent people among them and some actually joined our cause,
surrendering their lands and privileges, to fight on our side. The best of
them were later engaged to manage their old lands in behalf of the new
owners, the village collectives."

"Doesn't that system just mean that now it is really the government which
owns the land -- through these collectives?

"You don't understand. What the collectives own and manage are the commons:
assets that all may use like the pastures, woodlots, grist and saw mills,
and the granaries. They also maintain local roads and the smaller bridges
and run the primary schools. The farmers, as we now call the peasants, own
the fields. Each family has a freehold title to the acres it works and
keeps the proceeds from the sale of its crops."

"I must ask you to withhold judgment on our system till you know us
better."

"That's only fair." Finn said, bringing the conversation to a close as they
passed through the gates of a sizable town named Junction because it was at
the confluence of the three tributaries which joined to form the Conwy. It
was the former capital of the last state to fall to the revolution five
years earlier. Its fall was what had prompted the other states to appeal to
the Commonwealth for help.

			Chapter 20. Dewi

"Nice digs!" Finn observed to the others as they settled in to the guest
quarters at Government House, a former palace since converted into offices
for provincial officials. The colonel had said it would be four or five
days before the First Despot arrived, ostensibly on an inspection tour to
protect the secrecy of their meeting.

"I could get used to this." Drew averred. "It's better than my own room at
home."

Drew was still living with his folks, never having moved out to a youth
lodge with his contemporaries.

"I suppose it's comfortable enough," Jemsen allowed, not terribly
impressed. Back in the capital the twins leased a suite of comfortable
rooms in a residential hotel. Chamber boys took care of the housekeeping,
and meals were provided at the restaurant on the ground floor.

Their corner suite on the second story featured three sleeping chambers
opening onto a bright and airy sitting room which had a balcony that
overlooked an herb and vegetable garden. Pipes in the bathing chamber
provided not only cold water but also solar heated warm water. The jakes
too were modern, sanitary, and odor free. Water flowed constantly under the
two seats, carrying away bodily wastes.

"If you guys don't mind me jumping the queue, I'll take a bath before I do
anything else" Drew said stripping off his expeditionary outfit.

Just then a strikingly good-looking boy in his mid-teens and dressed only
in a linen kilt hung low on his hips entered the suite with an armload of
fluffy towels. Slender and comely and with hair the color of straw, he bore
more than a passing resemblance to the twins. Catching sight of Drew's
naked body he stopped short and stared, instantly smitten.

"Like what you see?" Karel asked impishly.

The boy turned red and stammered:

"I, uh, um, that is... Sorry.

"There is nothing to apologize for," Karel continued blithely:

"You are not the first boy to be entranced at the sight of young Drew
Altair in a state of nature. Our auburn-haired friend has a legion of
admirers stretching across the continent of Valentia. Quite the social
butterfly, he is, isn't that right, Drew?"

"Don't tease the chamber boy." Drew scolded. "What do they call you anyway,
Blondie?"

"The name is Dewi, Sir, and I am not really a chamber boy. I am an
assistant gardener. I'm just helping get this suite ready for visitors."

"Dewi then, and my name is Drew, not Sir. Just place those towels in the
bathing chamber, would you?

"Of course, and would you like me to draw your bath as well?"

"I would, and could I prevail on you to help me bathe, to fetch sponges and
soap, scrub my back, shampoo my hair, that sort of thing?"

"I am entirely at your service, Sir, I mean Drew. "

"At his service indeed!" Karel quipped, drawing a sharp look from
Drew. Jemsen rolled his eyes.

"While that white kilt of yours is quite flattering, Dewi, contrasting so
nicely with your sun-bronzed physique, there's no point in getting it all
wet and soapy, is there? Why don't you shuck it and join me in the bathing
room?" Drew suggested helpfully.

"Why not? This kilt wasn't my idea in the first place. The majordomo told
me to wear it. I always do my gardening in the nude."

"You see, with the climate so hot here in the north, boys and young men
rarely bother with clothing. You'll find lots of naked youths out and about
on the streets, unlike Down South where casual public nudity in town is
less usual. Besides I like the way the sun kisses my back and bare bum and
confers a golden patina to my skin."

"And to very good effect indeed, Dewi. Your sun-bronzed body and yellow
hair make you a Golden Boy of Concupiscence, whom all desire."

"Does that include you?"

"Definitely."

Needless to say, the sounds that emerged from the bathing chamber indicated
that more than hygiene was on the agenda.

When the bathers finally emerged they were arm in arm and chatting away
like old friends till Dewi said he really had to get back to work and left
Drew with a parting kiss and a promise to return later to "turn down"
Drew's bed.

Of course, when Dewi showed up late in the evening he did much more than
turn down the bed. He slipped into bed with Drew for an energetic frolic.

Despite the noisy proceedings, the lovers did not keep the others awake
thanks to the thick walls. Finn took one bed chamber and the twins the
other. For all three this was a night for rest and repose. After so many
weeks on the road, they were bone tired, and welcomed the chance to just
sleep in soft beds.

When Dewi and Drew woke up the next morning, their bed was a mess, the
sheets sweaty, askew, and bearing stains from bodily fluids.

No problem. Dewi gathered up the soiled bed things, added the travelers'
dirty clothes to the bundle, and took them away to drop the whole bundle
off at the laundry room.

That was not the last they saw of him that day for Dewi was soon at work in
the garden below the balcony. In the nude, of course. It wasn't long before
Drew joined him. After all, they had nothing to do for the next few days
but wait and after being on the road for so long, they liked the idea of
staying put for one day at least.

Growing things was not just a job for Dewi, it was his calling. His magical
gift was a Green Thumb. Now he couldn't just command plants to grow the way
druids could, but his magical aura, his instincts, and his training made
everything flourish under his care. He never applied too much or too little
water, turned the soil regularly to aerate it, could identify developing
blight or insect infestations by sight and smell before any of the other
gardeners.

As he told Drew, at one time this plot of land was a garden of ornamental
flowers, topiaries, gravel paths, statues and fountains, all for the
delight of a pampered aristocrat. The revolutionary government changed all
that, stripping away the fripperies and uncovering a sizable patch of some
of the most fertile soil in the district.

Now these acres produced herbs and vegetables to promote the health and
well-being of the populace at large. Theirs was the very freshest produce
available anywhere in town. They sold directly to a green grocer, thereby
cutting out the middleman. Everyone gained from the arrangement. The
citizens got fresh produce at competitive prices, and the grocer and the
garden split the profits.

Here was the Revolution in a nutshell. Dewi considered his work to be his
particular contribution to its success, loyal and grateful son of the
revolution that he was.

Dewi was especially proud of his celery despite the extra labor
involved. You had to pack earth around the stalks as they grew, leaving
only the tops and leaves green, to turn the stalks white and crunchy. So
what if his hands, knees, arms, legs and even his brow got streaked with
dirt and sweat. It was good dirt, topsoil, mother earth. Anyway it was easy
enough to wash it off along with the sweat and salt at the end of the day.

Usually he worked alone, a slender nude youth, bent over at his labor,
planting, weeding, and hoeing. On that day it was the two of them together,
Dewi and Drew, two bare-assed youths kneeling on the ground, brown cheeks
resting on their heels, lithe torsos leaning forward, genitals dangling
between slender thighs, ribs and spinal bumps prominent as, trowel or short
handled hoe in hand, they bent to their mundane tasks, firm muscles playing
under their skin. Just two naked youths exuding wholesomeness and vitality,
fine specimens of the human animal, bronzed and beautiful.

Dewi told Drew that he was happy with his situation there. He had arrived
in Junction four years earlier an orphaned war refugee who had lost his
home, his family and friends, and all his neighbors when his village had
been put to the torch. The lone survivor, twelve-year old Dewi had fled for
his life. He had passed through the city gate hungry, dirty, penniless,
empty handed, and stark naked.

The revolutionary committee found him a situation as helper in the garden
where he shared a cozy room with another boy and took his meals in the
staff dining room, just off the main restaurant. Recognizing his potential,
the head gardener, old Justin, a holdover from the old regime, had taken
Dewi under his wing and soon promoted him to assistant gardener. Things had
worked out for him.

With two pairs of hands, the youths were finished the work by early
afternoon. The head gardener gave Dewi the rest of the day off to spend
with his new friend. Dewi was his favorite, talented, conscientious, and
hard-working. He deserved some free time with the exotic visitor.

The next morning, Drew asked Justin if they could borrow Dewi for the next
few days to guide them around their town. Colonel Ifans had told them that
they had the freedom of the city.

"Why not? You are the guests of the Despotate, aren't you? Just don't be
surprised at the attention you draw. On the streets men and boys and more
than a few women swivel their heads at the sight of Dewi, walking wet-dream
that he is. Five of you at once, three blonds who look enough alike to be
brothers and a Frost Giant side by side with a diminutive red-head. You'll
cause quite a stir, I am thinking.

Drew caught the mischief in Karel's face as the head gardener mentioned him
and narrowed his eyes in warning. Though he kept silent, Karel did mouth
the word "diminutive."

"Yes, a real stir," the gardener continued, "with all of you but the giant
in the nude."

"Wouldn't we be selfish not to share the beauty the gods have graced us
with?" Karel asked rhetorically.

"Besides, the male anatomy is no more a mystery to city dwellers than it is
to country folk. Cities all over are dotted with statues of male nudes,
some of heroic proportions commemorating great soldiers and rulers, while
others are more realistic and depict gods and demigods, famous athletes, or
allegorical subjects as comely youths and young men."

The inhabitants of the planet of Haven had never conceived of artistic fig
leaves. The very notion would have astounded them.

With that, their party of five set out to explore Junction.

Dewi pointed out that the old palace was used not only for offices and
guest lodgings but provided other services as well. The kitchens operated
as a restaurant serving meals to the officials and to locals in the grand
dining chamber. The former count's library was now open to the public. Most
books could be borrowed for a term though certain rare books could not
leave the premises. Next to it was an public art gallery, though many of
the choicest pieces had been sold abroad with the proceeds deposited in a
provident fund reserved for fiscal contingencies. A health clinic offered
both magical healing and natural medicine for a modest charge, enough to
cover expenses, to fund a rural outreach program, and to provide a decent
living for its staff.

The city was crowded and noisy but not smelly. Even the side streets were
paved and provided with storm drains and containers for refuse which Dewi
said were carted to the garbage dump after close of business. Public
latrines took care of the bodily wastes of humans. Draft animals were not
allowed on the streets except for two hours a day, and drivers had to
remove their droppings to designated drop off points and composting
sites. The house fronts and shops were not as trim and tidy as comparable
quarters in cities in the Commonwealth, again an indication of the general
impoverishment of the region. At least the shops on commercial streets were
fitted with awnings or sunshades to provide shade.

It seemed that a freak funnel of wind had carried away a number of awnings
just recently. Two young men, siblings by the look of them, were at work
replacing torn out frames. Their job involved drilling out what remained of
the old fittings and putting up new ones in their place with fast setting
cement. Like many young males in the city they worked in the nude except
for ankle-high work boots and leather aprons which left their bums
uncovered except where the ties dangled over their shapely buns. Both boys
ignored the stone dust that mixed with their hair and the sweat on their
tanned bodies. A bit of mess came with the job. Both stopped work when they
caught sight of the group of five.

"Hi there, big boy!" the taller one greeted Finn.

"Hello lads, how's it going?"

The youth shrugged:

"Pretty good for my brother and me, thanks to all the work the vortex
brought us. It's like that old saying: 'It is an ill wind that blows no one
good'. Bad for the shopkeepers, good for us."

Nodding toward the others, he continued:

"Fine company you keep. Beautiful boy flesh and none of them shy about
displaying himself. Are they your harem?" he asked with a wink.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. All but one of the blonds."

"You lucky dog!"

Dewi was recognized in the red light district. As they passed a pleasure
house Finn overheard a pretty courtesan tell her friend that if the
strangers were in the company of "that blond tease" they wouldn't be
interested in their services.

"What a waste!" was their judgment.

"I see that you are known around here." Finn remarked.

Dewi shrugged:

"On my days off I work as a rent boy in a pleasure house on the next street
over. It's just as a sideline though several clients have asked me to move
in with them full-time as their kept boy. I wasn't interested."

"Why not? Surely it would be more lucrative than grubbing in the dirt?"
Finn asked, testing the boy.

"But Finn I like grubbing in the dirt. It is the work I was born for, what
with my Green Thumb. Sure I could become some rich man's pampered catamite
for a few years, ten at the most since I'm sixteen now. Then what would
happen? I'd be tossed out and find myself on my own without a job, or a
trade, or any prospects."

"I am sure you would still be very attractive in ten years' time."

"Yes, but as a good-looking young man, not a cute boy-toy."

"Almost everything I earn as a rent boy goes into savings. One day I will
be able to buy a plot of land for a truck farm. That's the plan, anyway. I
hope you don't think less of me because I let men plow my ass for coin."

"Not at all, Finn replied, "Some of my closest friends have worked as rent
boys."

"Really?"

"He means us." Jemsen interjected. "Karel and I financed our first journey
across the continent that way."

"That was before we were rich and famous." Karel explained.

"You don't say!"

The next day the boys spent a several hours leafing through the collection
in the public library. There was something for every taste and cultural
level. The library offered serious titles from the original collection as
well as popular fiction for a newly literate citizenry.

Here was a chance to catch up on the reading the had forgone during their
long trip. All four read books regularly for both pleasure and instruction
and Drew was a bona fide bookworm, not to mention a prize winning
author. With more practical ends in mind, Dewi studied a volume on
topiaries. Old Justin was planning to restore a couple of those living
sculptures as a public amenity.

There weren't enough chairs so the five of them found a vacant corner and
parked themselves on the carpet, one arm to the floor for a prop, legs
extended and ankles crossed, with their chosen volumes resting atop their
thighs. At one point, Karel stretched out on his front, upper torso raised
on his elbows with the book he was reading propped against his brother's
thigh.

Library patrons stared at the young beauties in their midst, eyes dwelling
on the curves of the lovely blond boy on his stomach, from his rounded
shoulders to the swale of the lower back and the twin globes of his bum,
with the spheres of his manly parts just visible in the spread of his
slender but muscular legs.

Regardless of their leanings, all were struck by the contrast between
intellectual endeavor and the sensual display of bare bodies. All five of
them: Finn, Dewi, Drew, and the twins were visions of youthful male
pulchritude. Finn excepted, they were utterly unselfconscious about total
public nudity. The twins had lived skin clad from the age of fifteen. As a
youth of the Commonwealth Drew ran around town much of the time in the
nude, disdaining as entirely unnecessary the genital pouch or the loincloth
he might have worn. Dewi had arrived in Junction in the nude and pretty
much stayed that way the whole time.

The four young nudes were not trying to tease or titillate. They were
simply reading books. If someone had remarked on their unclothed state, the
boys would have been astonished at any suggestion that reading a book
required anything more than hands and eyes. What did clothing have to do
with it?

The markets were busy and offered all manner of merchandise. Commerce had
flourished once the political power of the landowners was broken. The
commercial classes had supported the revolution wholeheartedly. They were
gratified when the new regime swept away the aristocrats' former immunity
from taxation. Now everyone was liable to taxation. With the tax base so
much larger, the rate of taxation fell considerably.

The biggest change was that taxpayers actually got something for the taxes
they paid. The government spent its increased revenues on internal
improvements. It paved the streets in the towns and installed sewers and
storm drains. Out in the country it built all-weather roads and culverts
and bridges to aid land transport. To benefit waterborne commerce they
dredged channels, cleared streams of snags, and blasted underwater boulders
that created impassible rapids. They raised water levels with weirs, and
built inclines next to the streams to by-pass them. Major engineering works
like canals and locks were as yet beyond their means. All these measures
extended the range from which the towns could draw supplies and gave many
more farmers access to markets.

Perhaps most important of all the new regime replaced the debased coinage
with sound money and instituted a standard system of weights and measures,
copying those used in the Commonwealth.

Folks seemed content and healthy though not really prosperous. No amount of
land reform and sweeping away of wasteful and outmoded institutions could
remedy the underlying problems of poor agricultural productivity and remote
location. The territories of the Despotate had only one major line of
communications down the River Conwy. A vast range of mountains cut their
territory off from the western coastlands of the continent. To the north
lay impassable channeled scablands, scoured down to bedrock thousands of
years earlier in an flood of gigantic proportions.

"What's with the big hammer?" Dewi asked Finn pointing to his side.

Finn shrugged.

"I carry a hammer because I am, or rather I was, a blacksmith. These days I
own a timber business and sawmill with my brother. We left our weapons in
our quarters as a sign of good faith, but a hammer counts as a tool. It
does make a good weapon though, if you know how to use it, and I do."

Proportioned for a Frost Giant, the hammer's hardwood haft was nearly as
long as Drew's whole arm and thicker than he could get his small hand
around. It was made of resilient ash which was wrapped with straps for
greater strength. The head was as heavy as that of a sledge but with cheeks
that tapered to small faces front and back to concentrate the force of the
blow.

"You always hang a hammer by its head, which is how I carry it on my
belt. The loop at the end of the straps lets you swing it as weapon, giving
you the extra reach you need to hold off foes armed with swords. Usually
you hold the haft near the heel and smash left and right, up and down."

"A hammer is strictly a close-in weapon though I once heard of a smith who
threw his hammer at a fleeing felon and took him down. You wouldn't want to
try that except in desperation. Throw your hammer away, and you've disarmed
yourself."

"Unless you can Fetch it back to you," Drew commented smugly.

"With your strength to wield it, Finn, it'd be a fearsome weapon all
right," Dewi enthused. "Hit a man on the head and he's finished.".

"It wouldn't be pretty," Finn confirmed. "with brains, blood, and bone
chips splashed all around."

"You should see what I can do with a couple of steel spheres the size of
apples." Drew said confidently.

"Hey guys, we just ate lunch!" Karel protested.

			Chapter 21. The First Despot

After five days Colonel Ifans showed up at their rooms.

"I trust you have been enjoying yourselves these last few days."

"More than you know, sir." Drew assured him. "Personally I've been having a
lot of fun with Dewi, the young gardener who works here. We enlisted him as
our guide to show us the city. I can tell you that we liked what we saw."

"I was very much surprised by the total absence of propaganda, public
meetings, and political agitation. I thought that sort of thing was second
nature to you revolutionaries."

"It is second nature to us, but we have already won our revolution in these
parts. We recognized that after so much upheaval, people just wanted peace
and quiet and to be left alone to get on with their lives. Even I find
continual political harangues tiresome. Changing gears was hard for many of
us. Before we won, we defined ourselves by what we were against, afterwards
by what we were for. And not just talk about it. We were in charge now and
had to deliver good governance."

"There is so much else to relate," Drew continued, "I hardly know where to
begin."

"No need. I've read the reports from the men I had shadowing you so I know
exactly where you went, what you saw, and to whom you talked."

"You had us followed?"

The Colonel nodded. "Everywhere you went. It was for your protection too,
you understand."

"And none of us ever suspected." Drew grumbled.

"Actually I did suspect," Finn said. "It was the logical thing for him to
do."

"Karel and I did more than suspect. We knew for sure. Your men are good,
colonel, but no one can shadow my brother and me and remain unnoticed. We
have the instincts and awareness of the hunters and army scouts we once
were."

"Nobody ever tells me anything!" Drew complained, flashing a not wholly
mock glare at Finn and the twins.

"It looks like the joke is on us, young Altair." the colonel conceded.

"Just tell me that Dewi wasn't one of your informants." Drew pleaded.

"Don't worry. Your friend Dewi is exactly what he seems to be: a fine lad,
an honest hardworking assistant gardener though with a sideline as a rent
boy. He is a loyal son of the revolution, but we did not ask him to spy on
you. His liking for you, young Altair, is genuine."

"Thanks. You know he showed us around the city. From Dewi we learned what
the revolution has meant to humble folks like him and are favorably
inclined to what you are trying to accomplish."

"Which is why I will task the local revolutionary committee to look in on
him from time to time and, if necessary, assist him in achieving his
ambitions."

"Thank you."

"Drew speaks for all of us in this." Finn affirmed.

"Now, as you must realize, I am here to take you to your meeting with the
First Despot. His name is Twm Glyn Dwr."

"Could you spell that sir?" Karel asked.

The colonel did so. For once Karel did not complain that the local spelling
was not phonetic. He transcribed the pronunciation as Tom Glen Dower.

"You won't write anything down about the meeting until you are safely back
in Caerdydd?" the colonel cautioned.

"Of course not."

"Since this is a formal meeting with the highest authority in the land you
will want to look your best."

Finn nodded and they all put on their most formal garments. For Drew that
meant one of his trademark white silk tunics, those he wore in his
professional capacity as a journalist plus hobnailed sandals. Finn wore
green silk trews and shirt and sandals. The twins contented themselves with
sarongs, green for Jemsen and blue for Karel, but went barefoot.

Twm Glyn Dwr was a man of middle years soberly dressed with plain features
and a touch of gray at the temples. Glyn Dwr thanked them for traveling to
Junction to hear him out.

"Gentlemen, your reputations precede you. I haven't read your second book
yet, young Altair, but your first was a real page-turner. The Long March of
the Frost Giants and their two wars against the centaurs was an epic and
you were its incisive chronicler. Yet you could also narrow your focus to
portray individual figures who displayed extraordinary courage in episodes
like the stand of Old Arn and Young Finn in the Breach. You yourself stood
there with them, and the twins too. I admire courage, even in a foe, but I
have called you here in the hope that we might become friends."

"I know that you four have the ear of Lord Zaldor and General Urqaart and
through them the Council of the Commonwealth. And it is fortuitous, for our
purpose, that you Finn Ragnarson are an experienced envoy. No disrespect to
the rest of you, it is just that your strengths lie elsewhere."

"I have a proposal which I would like you to convey to them, a proposal
that could prevent armed conflict and foster peaceful change in the
region. Understand I am speaking not just for myself but with the backing
of all nine despots."

"Make no mistake, radical change is coming. It must come, whether by war
and revolution or by peaceful means with all the parties concerting their
efforts toward mutually acceptable goals. What I am proposing is a tacit
alliance between the Despotate and the Commonwealth to promote fundamental
social and political change in the Allied States of the Alliance. With both
of us exerting pressure we can drag the old regimes into the modern world."

"The ruling elites in the south know that the old ways cannot last very
much longer. The Despotate destabilizes them by its very existence and the
hope we give to the oppressed. From within we undermine the old regimes by
subversion and political agitation. From without we threaten with our
Army. That was how the five states that make up the Despotate were
liberated one by one."

"But it was a long, bloody, and destructive process. And now they have
called in the Commonwealth to save them, as they see it, but that won't
work, not in the long run. The rot runs too deep. Their elites cannot fight
us and their own people at the same time. Their military Alliance with the
Commonwealth can only delay what must happen. But the last thing we want is
decades of uprisings and warfare with all the death and destruction they
bring."

Finn nodded thoughtfully and said:

"The Commonwealth shares much of your thinking about your ends but not your
means. We want the needed political and social changes achieved through
peaceful means. We would not support a violent takeover by the Despotate of
all those lands. The Commonwealth simply will not tolerate the rise of a
military peer on this continent. That is our chief strategic goal. We see
reforms as the way to achieve that goal by preparing the Far West for
eventual annexation to the Commonwealth."

"The Commonwealth is already using the threat of the Despotate to force the
pace of reform. The allied army is not just a fighting force. It is a
political influence as well.  During their training in Caerdydd the
personnel in an allied contingent learn the the Commonwealth's ways of
doing things and absorb our ways of thinking on political and social issues
as well. They learn that the purpose of the Army of the Commonwealth is to
protect the people from external threats. It is not an instrument of
oppression to keep an unworthy elite in power. Indeed our militia system
with its millions of reservists makes that impossible for a professional
army of only a few hundred thousand."

"The allied contingents bring all that home when that unit rotates back to
its native land. In a sense, we and the Despotate already have a tacit
alliance. What we are doing here today is acknowledging it, making it
explicit. Consciously concerting our efforts will make it that much more
effective."

"I am glad to hear you say that Finn. It gives me hope that this alliance
will work."

Finn nodded then added:

"Naturally we will have to operate in secret with a secure line of
communication."

"No problem. Our spy network reaches all the way to Caerdydd." Glyn Dwr
assured him. "Colonel Ifans can put you in touch with our agents there."

"And here he told us he wasn't a spy."

Glyn Dwr shook his head:

"Ifans is not a spy. The colonel is in charge of counter-espionage. It is
his job to check on things like nosy travelers from the Commonwealth."

"Ouch!"

Glyn Dwr and Ifans shared a predatory smile.

Soon though Glyn Dwr's mien darkened.

"Why the frown, sir?" Finn asked.

"The fundamental problem in the region has always been the low fertility of
soils. Low productivity and low yields makes the competition for resources
more intense. Our situation has class warfare built into it."

"You must ask the Commonwealth to enlist the druids in finding some
solution to our problem, by drawing gold from the ground as they and earth
wizards did during the rise of the Commonwealth or finding ways to improve
agricultural productivity, perhaps with new plant varieties or new crops
entirely."

Gly Dwr broke off and asked:

"Why are you twins shaking your heads?"

"You cannot eat gold or silver. Monetary wealth merely changes the
ownership of resources, not increase them. A bonanza in precious metals
would just raise prices generally but leave the real wealth of the region
unchanged in any meaningful way."

"It is true that during its rise, the Commonwealth mined more gold. That
was to allow people to replace barter with monetary exchange, to switch
from subsistence agriculture to market farms. Great manufactories replaced
cottage industry. Commerce in luxuries gave way to commerce in raw
materials and manufactures. Innovations in the mechanical arts and new
crops added to our wealth. It helped that soils in the Commonwealth were
unusually fertile, producing plenty of food for the inhabitants of the
growing cities."

"None of that applies here. In short, forget gold as a solution to your
problems."

"As for the fertility of your soils... "

Jemsen explained that while doing research for a biography of Balandur the
twins had come upon a copy of a report by the druids, a report commissioned
by the government of Cymru more than a century ago. Balandur had been their
go-between, which was how a copy of the report wound up in the library of
the Honorable Guild of Cartographers. (The twins were members.) The report
was never made public. The results were so discouraging it was thought best
to keep it secret.

Jemsen went on to explain that the druids had found a solution to the
problem of low yields, but one that was totally impractical. The soils of
the region were too sour [acidic]. The application of certain minerals
[phosphates and lime] could sweeten sour soils and virtually triple
yields. But huge quantities of minerals would be needed for a territory as
vast as the Far West. There was simply no way to get these minerals from
the mines to the farms. Which was ironic given the large deposits of those
minerals in the dry northwest of the Despotate, which lay in the rain
shadow of the Great Western Dividing Range.

"So there is no hope for us."

"Actually there is, now." Jemsen countered. "The druids were right back
then but no longer. Technical progress has made it possible to transport
huge loads great distances by land, in this case from the mines to distant
river ports for eventual distribution by barge wherever needed."

"Technical progress?"

"Iron roads. Drew, you are our expert on the subject. Why don't you
describe just what they are and how they work?"

"Gladly."

Drew had written about a colorful figure he had dubbed the King of the Iron
Roads, a certain Angus McFarden from Grayling, a town at the head of
navigation on the Long River.

McFarden had kicked off an industrial revolution by harnessing the magical
resources of the Commonwealth to provide motive power on a scale beyond
anything possible with draft animals. His iron roads also offered rewarding
careers for those like Drew with a strong gift for Fetching.

McFadern's got his inspiration from the trackways miners had always built
inside their tunnels to transport ore in single barrows or short trains
running atop narrow gauge wooden rails which were in turn supported on
timber ties spaced a foot or so apart.

McFarden scaled the system up. The barrows in the mines were only breast
high and rolled on four small wheels. The bodies of McFarden's six-wheeled
ore wagons were the height of a tall man and twice that in length. They ran
on iron rails set a fathom apart and fixed to ties resting on a bed of
gravel.

His iron road transported ore to barges on riverbanks miles away. The
barges carried the ore to smelters also sited on waterways to facilitate
barge transport of coal from mines as well as the use of copious quantities
of water to cool the red hot metal.

The rights of way of these iron roads followed carefully surveyed routes to
ensure gentle downslopes to the rivers and an easy climb of empty
wagon-trains back to the mines. Pairs of Fetchers used their magical gift
in tandem to propel the loads along the tracks with an assist from gravity
going downhill.

The Fetchers pushed the heavy wagons along the rails almost always on a
downslope. Getting the load moving was the hard part since they had to
overcome its inertia. Once it started rolling, they had an easier task,
merely countering rolling resistance from friction. The effort it took to
return the empty wagons uphill to the mines was lessened by the track bed
itself which conferred the mechanical advantage of an inclined plane.

A pair of Fetchers might move as much ore as a team of eight and not
require prodigious amounts of fodder and grain or frequents changes to
replace played out teams. And they left no mess. McFarden had devised
training techniques to strengthen his prime movers, proving that a
Fetcher's power level was not fixed but could be raised through mental
exercises and visualization techniques.

"And you believe these iron roads would work here as well?" Glyn Dwr asked.

"No reason why they shouldn't. The obstacles are political and financial,
not technical. It won't happen without a general peace in the region. No
one is going to make massive long term investments in iron roads without
peace. Companies set up to build or operate the iron roads could raise
capital by sales of bonds or shares to local governments, your own
commercial classes, and also the elites in the old regimes, which would
give them a real stake in the new economy and a peaceful political
settlement. The farmers and merchants would benefit too. Iron roads and a
trade in fertilizing minerals is the key to universal prosperity."

"Everyone wins." Drew finished.

Glyn Dwr and Ifans were stunned by the enormity of the opportunity which
Finn, the twins, and Drew had place in their hands.

"For the first time, I feel in my bones that progress is possible without
violence and destruction. I thank all four of you from the bottom of my
heart." the First Despot said fervently.

			Chapter 22. Caerdydd Again

"I don't know what you guys did up north, but from what I heard on the
grapevine it was a hell of lot more than just the assignment you were sent
out on." Ian Dentzer said, lying in bed next to Drew.

The pretty elf and the cute human had been making up for lost time in the
four days since the expedition got back to headquarters. Just then they
were sprawled across the bed, resting between bouts of energetic love
making. Ian's head rested on Drew's bare thigh as the cute red-head toyed
with his earlobe.

"I don't suppose you could clue me in on what happened, Drew, since I am
not just one of your casual conquests but a real keeper. You said so
yourself."

"Well, Ian, I could tell you, but then, serious boyfriend or not, I'd have
to kill you." Drew quipped.

"Is it really that much of a secret?"

"I am afraid so. It's not just a military secret; its a state secret."

"Will I ever know?"

"Yes you will when everything comes out in a few years' time. I'll even
write a book about it and autograph your copy."

"Thanks a lot."

"It's the best I can do. I know you understand, Captain." Drew said
underlining his military rank.

Captain Ian Dentzer of the Army of the Commonwealth nodded ruefully. The
military took secrets seriously.

Only a few key persons had been let in on the secret. A certain junior
captain in the cartographic department was not one of them.

Zaldor and Urqaart had jumped at the offer of a covert alliance with the
Despotate. The two generals were astounded by what their four agents had
done. Sent to prepare for a possible war, they had brought back the
prospect of peace with social and political progress and a path to general
prosperity for the whole region. It was a shame that public recognition
would have to wait several years at least, possibly a decade.

It had been providential that those were the four sent north. Finn had
shown himself to be an able leader and diplomat. The twins and Drew had put
together their keen minds and found the solution to the fundamental
environmental problem that had made class warfare endemic for centuries in
the region. The twins understood the science while the young journalist
provided the technological solution hitherto lacking.

To Zaldor's thinking that made them the Young Peacemakers Four, whatever
they cared to call themselves.

			Author's Note

This story is entirely fictional, with no resemblance intended to any
person living or dead.

If you have enjoyed this story and others like it, consider making a
donation to the Nifty Archive. It is so easy. They take credit cards. Point
your browser to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

This story is one of an occasional series about the further adventures of
the characters introduced in the fantasy novel 'Elf-Boy and Friends' and
published by Nifty Archive. The chief protagonist of the novel, Dahlderon,
elf-boy and druid, will appear in these stories in a supporting rather than
starring role. Each story in the sequence stands on its own, with the focus
on one or just a few of the original characters.

There will be further stories after this five story arc. Finn Ragnarson
comes into his powers as his magical gift manifests itself. Also the cute
coach boy Liam becomes a war wizard and sails with the Commonwealth navy
against raiders.

Stay tuned.

Readers who like these stories might want to try my two series 'Daphne Boy'
and 'Naked Prey' in the Gay/Historical section of the Archive. My 'Jungle
Boy' series of Hollywood tales is posted in the Gay/Authoritarian
section. The recent series 'Andrew Jackson High' relates the trials and
tribulations of five of its gay students. For links to these and other
stories, look on the list of Prolific Authors on the Archive.

Comments and feedback welcome.