Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (72 page)

They
were close to the caravan when Helwin angled her troop off to the south. Guided
by two wolves, she set a course to circle around to the rear of the caravan.
Jeff continued on until Balko warned of Salchek outposts. Bear troop dismounted
and tended their horses while nervously awaiting the message from Helwin’s wolves
that they were in position to attack.

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“We
shall leave on patrol momentarily, my commander.”

Lingol
Bollit acknowledged the nattily attired officer’s crisp salute by touching his
campaign hat, a wide-brimmed cap.

“Do
not allow your patrols to bunch up. They grow careless. Should I discover they
seek entertainment among the women at the rear of the column as they have done
in the past, they and most likely you will be afoot tomorrow.”

“Yes
sir. It has been an uneventful trip to date.”

Bollit
stooped to ignite a slender wand in the campfire. The fire, a lackluster affair
fueled by dung, illuminated a face weathered to the consistency of old leather
by constant exposure to the elements and many wars. It was also a troubled
face. A globe of fire ignited at the end of the wand and Bollit set it on top
of his pipe. He puffed sindar weed alight and drew in a satisfying lungful
before returning his attention to the sub-lieutenant.

“This
is not an academy exercise, Heskelit. Do not assume that matters will progress
according to plan. Our adversaries have proven themselves competent and
professional far beyond what past experience would indicate. Their attack on
our army’s supply train was as well planned and smoothly executed as any I have
commanded or participated in.”

“They
are northern rabble, sir.”

“They
are not!”

“Yes
sir. I deeply regret I was not present to greet them.”

You
young, foolish idiot, Bollit thought. You were not there. That supply train was
savaged. A Power has risen in the North and they saddle me with green
snot-noses. And this one! Fresh from the academy and of noble family!

“Do
you know what a wolf is?”

Sub-lieutenant
Heskelit wondered if his boss was losing his nerve. “Some form of dog,
Commander.”
 

“Were
a wolf to stand on its hind legs you would have to look up to see its head. If
one of these creatures was willing, you could throw a saddle on its back. Think
about that while you are on patrol.”

“Yes
sir. Perhaps they will attack us when we draw near Rugen. My family would be
proud were I to return with a wolf head.”

“Dismissed.
Mount your patrols and maintain intervals.”

Heskelit
saluted and hurried off. Bollit watched him fade into the darkness. Somewhere
in his mind he was composing the letter he would have to send to the young
man’s family when he was killed in action. Regretfully knocking dottle from his
pipe, Bollit wondered who would write his. He had never had such a thought
before and gazed at the heavens in search of guidance, but saw only unfamiliar
constellations that offered nothing.

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The
tension grew steadily as minutes ticked by. It seemed an eternity before one of
the wolves with Helwin put out a general call.

“The
yellow-hairs have arrived. They are ready.”

Balthazar
and the leader of the second wolf pack reported they were also in position.
They would hit the front of the caravan and work south, stripping draft horses
as they went

Ordering
his men to mount up by doing so, Jeff sent the attack order to Helwin’s wolves.
She would take her cue from them. He nudged Cynic into a walk. Ears laid back
in preparation for action, Balko crouched along in front.

“Ready
for a little dust-up, brothers?”

“When
have we not been?”

Balko
was so intent on the caravan that all he did was fling a mental growl.

As
they advanced at the walk, a wide band of glowing campfires emerged from the
night. Set against a star-filled sky, the band wound south and became a ribbon
of light that gradually narrowed as it approached the horizon.

His
body charged with adrenaline, Jeff maintained the slow walk. “Come on Helwin!”
he muttered. “Let’s get it on!”

Cynic
was jerking his head with impatience and lathering up when Jeff heard a faint
commotion from the south.

“That
has to be it! If it isn’t, screw it!” Drawing Berold and letting internal
pressure blow out his lungs, Jeff screamed an Alemanni war cry and booted
Cynic.

Bellowing
battle cries, hooves pounding on the prairie, fifty warriors and horses
descended on the head of the caravan like a storm. A confused mob of teamsters
boiled out of their bedding in random patterns as Bear Troop charged into their
midst.

Unable
to see anything in the dark, their frightened questions turned to cries of pain
as swords thudded home. Cynic trampled several as Jeff guided him toward the
closest wain, their screams lost among the others.

Splashing
turpentine on the wagon, Jeff dumped live coals from a pot and blew them to
life. A dim shadow reared up in the wagon bed and Jeff ducked as a club whistled
by his head. Thrusting with his saber, he felt it grate across ribs. The shadow
tumbled down to sprawl over Cynic’s withers. Jeff flipped the body off with a
desperate heave and fanned the small blaze with his hat until it took off with
a whoosh.

Lighting
a torch from the fire he urged Cynic toward the next wagon, swinging his saber
in vicious arcs as hostlers and teamsters pressed close. Balko leaped into the
thickest bunch, bearing several to the ground and scattering the rest. Alemanni
troopers holding blazing torches seemed to be everywhere to Jeff’s fevered
eyes, some leaping their horses over wagon tongues in their haste to find
another target.

Then
the wolves came charging in on either side of the caravan. They blew through
depleted guards and attacked draft horses up and down the line. Rearing and
thrashing about in an agony to gain their freedom, many broke loose and
stampeded through the battle trampling anyone in their path.

Confused
groups of men and women ran from point to point trying to rally as fire after
fire sprang up and bathed the area in a hellish glow. Feeling like an hour had
passed, Jeff fought his way from wagon to wagon setting fires as he went and
wondering where in hell the Salchek cavalry was. Seeming to be everywhere at once,
Balko made the difference time and again.

Jeff
hacked his way out of a group of teamsters who were trying to drag him from the
saddle and took a second to look around. Those of his troop he could see were
hard pressed. This is getting too tight, he thought. Leave while you can!

Putting
horn to lips Jeff blew three mighty blasts, let out a rebel yell and charged
into a pack of teamsters that were in the way. He was almost through when his
leg was hit a tremendous blow. Jeff screamed with pain, and Cynic nearly
unseated him when he whirled to trample the life out of a club-wielding
teamster. They won free and Jeff sounded the horn twice again to marshal his
troop.

His
leg hurt so badly it was hard to concentrate, but Jeff thrust it aside. He
expected to get hit by the Salchek cavalry at any moment. He ordered his troop
into battle formation and sent Balko to reconnoiter. He scouted a wide circle
but found nothing of concern.

Dawn
was several hours away when they moved out. Jeff calculated that should give them
plenty of time to reach the rendezvous point. An urgent call blasted into his
mind from Helwin’s wolves.

“The
female yellow-hair is hard beset! Come swiftly!”

“Dammit,
that’s where they all are! She won’t have a chance against that many!”

Jeff
swung Cynic south and set a pace that under other circumstances would have been
insane, horses stumbling and sliding in the night. Balko had run ahead when he
heard the summons and guided them back toward the caravan. Jeff heard the
sounds of a cavalry action.

“Form
line!”

They
had approached to within several hundred yards of the caravan. There were
enough wains on fire to reveal the battle and terrain.

“At
the canter!”

Knee
to knee, Bear troop brought their horses to the canter and roared out favorite
battle songs. Jeff sounded the horn in a mighty blast.

“Charge!”

Bear
troop responded with a tremendous shout and put spurs to their horses. When
they crashed into the melee, the noise level jumped to the point where thought
was blown away.

Engaging
a Salchek on either side, Jeff whipped Berold back and forth in an elaborate
figure of eight. Cynic took on a horse directly ahead and clubbed its rider out
of the saddle. The odds were still more than two to one, and Salchek pressed in
from every angle until Cynic could hardly move.

“Wolf-brothers
and sisters! Come to me now!”

The
call was barely on its way when a wolf sailed by in front of Cynic, stripping a
Salchek horse of its rider. Seconds more and both wolf packs had piled into the
battle.

Many
of the thirty-five wolves leaped from saddle to saddle, clearing Salchek as
they went and savaging the horses. The horses bucked and shrilled like mad
things as they fought to get away. They crashed into one another, friend and
foe alike, while wolves a third as big as the horses scrabbled to keep their
balance until they could leap to the next horse. Everyone knew, Alemanni and
Salchek alike, that to fall meant certain death.

Jeff
trusted Cynic to deal with the panicked horses and concentrated on keeping a
sword out of his back. Cynic had a hard time of it as horses caromed into him
from all sides, but kept his feet and carried them deeper into the battle.
There was no order or purpose other than to stay alive.

We’ve
got to get out of here. Jeff urgently thought. Won’t be long before more
cavalry find us. Do it now and screw the ammunition!

Drawing
the Ruger, he put the muzzle nearly against an opponent’s head and blew half
his skull away. Sixteen times an orange spear of flame shot out, muzzle blasts
and slugs adding another dimension of terror to the madness. Withdrawing the
dry magazine, Jeff rammed a new one home only to find the field clear of enemy.
Jeff sounded recall on the horn and shouted for Helwin.

A
trooper spurred his horse close to Cynic. “Captain, the lieutenant was last
seen near the caravan.”

“We
must find the yellow-haired she who is my companion. Track back toward the
great fire. I will follow.”

Jeff
put a sergeant whose judgment was sound in charge of both troops. “Gather as
many riderless horses as you can, Wulfern, but do not tarry long. Await me at
the rendezvous point.”

The
trooper saluted and began bellowing orders. Whirling Cynic, Jeff hurried to
catch up with the wolves.

“The
she is found.”

Cynic
plunged to a halt by Balthazar. Jeff leaped from the saddle and kneeled by
Helwin’s side. He probed for the carotid pulse and breathed a great sigh of
relief when he found it. The light was poor, but he detected no evidence of
blood or open wound except on her head. They were out of time and had to move
or die.

Too
heavy to lift, Jeff dragged Helwin over to Cynic and somehow manhandled her
across his withers. Once in the saddle, Jeff rolled Helwin onto his thighs.
Exhausted by the battle and carrying two big people, Cynic staggered off for
the rendezvous point.

Tremendous
relief swept the company when they arrived. Eager arms lowered Helwin to the
ground in the first light of dawn. His work just begun, Jeff started patching
wounds. He mustered the company for role call at full light. The count stopped at
85. Although some had likely become lost and would join up later, Jeff figured
he had lost twenty percent of his effectives.

“How
many horses did you capture?”

Wulfern
looked up from the trooper’s leg he was bandaging. Deep lines of fatigue were
etched on his face.

“Three
hands, Captain.”

“I
had not hoped for so many. You have done well.”

They
remounted and headed for base camp, Jeff continuing to carry Helwin. Other
warriors were likewise burdened. They stayed well down in the grassland’s
shallow valleys, wolves working the hills as lookouts. Helwin started to thrash
before long, and Jeff was hard put to keep from dumping her.

The
sun was well up when they plodded into camp. Jeff groaned relief when troopers
eased Helwin off his thighs. As soon as his feet hit the ground, legs long
deprived of circulation crumpled and he had to hold on to the saddle to keep
from falling. Waving away help, Jeff hung on until his legs throbbed back to
life. When the wounded were taken care of he saw to Cynic and crashed onto his
furs.