Valour and Victory (22 page)

General Ross
saluted. He sped out of the pavilion, clicking his fingers at the
Infantry Colonels to follow. There was a mass exodus from the
tent.

Lord Marshall
Peter Duchesne looked at the four regimental officers who remained
and at the small group of nobles standing round their Duke.

“We gentlemen,”
he began, “have the next candle-mark or two to work out just how we
are to accomplish what I have promised General Ross. Any
ideas?”

“Small groups
of two hundred or so,” suggested Charles Karovitz in his gruff
voice. “Any smaller and the kohorts won’t stop to fight, any bigger
and we’ll be embroiled in that battle you want to avoid. Each
echelon must be big enough to persuade the Larg to stop their
advance and fight yet small enough to manoeuvre. I reckon that
gives us about ten echelons if we include the mounted troops that
Duke Robert can provide.”

“I agree,” said
the Prince-Duke. “Thank the Gods the Larg are not like the Lind,
they can only run fast in short spurts. Weight and ferocity is
their strength and we must use that to our advantage. Each echelon
will attack in turn on both flanks and one at a time to keep them
unbalanced and wondering where the next attack will come. Hit them
hard and then gallop away as fast as we can as if the very devil is
after us.”

“If they follow
our retreats in force?” inquired Charles Karovitz.

“Make for one
of the keeps,” Robert Brentwood replied, “everyone has maps.”

“Once the Larg
have passed it by, come out and attack them from the rear,”
continued Peter Duchesne. “That’ll make them even more uneasy, I
hope. Some of the kohorts may even be told to surround the said
keeps which will reduce the size of the army that Gardiner will
have to face but we want to keep such occurrences to an absolute
minimum. Cavalry is far more effective out in the open. No suicide
charges gentlemen please. Alive we can delay the Larg, dead we can
do nothing but provide them with their next meal.”

The men
shivered.

“If you get to
the river, cross and join Gardiner. If that is impossible, make for
the coast.”

“There are also
a number of keeps strung along the east bank of the river,” offered
Duke Robert.

“True,”
assented Peter Duchesne. “Once the Larg are within sight of the
river there will be little more we can do anyway. It will be up to
Gardiner and Alan Ross.” His green eyes fixed for a moment on them
in turn. “This is a desperate undertaking. Our casualties will be
heavy. Perhaps none of us will survive but I’m sure every man will
do his duty.”

“And women,”
interrupted the Duke, surprising the Lord Marshall. “There are a
few amongst my levies. They’ve heard about the Armies of the North
that come to Duchesne’s aid and that there are women soldiers
numbered among them.”

“A good third I
believe,” said Charles Karovitz.

“Fifty-fifty in
the Lindars and the Vada,” added Peter Duchesne.

“I saw no
reason to refuse them,” said Duke Robert, “though it goes against
all tradition and protocol.”

“When all this
is over we might find that more than just tradition and protocol
have been overturned and for the better,” said Peter Duchesne,
wondering whether he would live to see the day when women arrived
at the regimental recruiting stations to enlist. He doubted it.

Mile by bloody
mile, the kohorts advanced east through Brentwood, slowed but not
stopped by the brave efforts of the cavalry.

After three
days the two thousand had been cut by a half but still the echelons
attacked, retreated, attacked and retreated again, leaving their
dead and wounded behind.

Prince-Duke
Robert fell on the second day, his echelon overrun when he
misjudged the speed of one of the Larg counter-attacks.

The Lord
Marshall survived until the sixth.

On the eighth,
within sight of the river, General Charles Karovitz gathered
together the few who remained and led them northwards towards the
coast. The survivors numbered one hundred and sixty-eight.

They had given
General Ross the time he needed to march the infantry to the aid of
the Duke of Gardiner. There they joined the duke’s levies and dug
in.

The frustrated
Larg milled around the western bank of the river for a full day
while their Kohortangan decided what to do.

The sacrifice
of the mounted troops had not been in vain. When the kohorts
eventually swarmed over the river they did not manage to dislodge
the Ross-Gardiner infantry. The Largan’s plan to cut of the people
of Murdoch from the coast had failed and great was the Largan’s
anger when the Kohortangan reported this failure.

This anger was
to play a large part in the events that were about to unfold to the
south where he and the third part of the army were approaching the
Citadel and its surrounding town at Fort. He began to distrust the
advice of his Kohortangans.

* * * * *

Danal and
Tala

“It’s hotter
than being in a furnace,” gasped Derek as he led the way inside the
canvas awning and kneeling down, began to prepare a simple meal of
trail bread and dried karku (the southern name for kurka). Once
Danal, Tala and Philip had crowded in beside him and the four Lind
had taken up their accustomed positions round the edges the eight
ate their portions with hunger but no relish.

Once they had
travelled further west into the desert the Lind would be able to
hunt for the small burrowing rudtka but they were too close to the
Murdoch border, at the outskirts of the path the Larg kohorts would
take on their run north to Duchesne and the Island Chain. It was
imperative that they get as far east as they could as fast as they
could, hence no hunting stops.

They were
travelling by night and resting under the canvas awning by day,
following their route using the stars as a guide and also what had
become almost their most precious possession, a crude compass made
by Tala’s fellow journeyman Jhonas during his apprentice days, not
a hundred percent accurate but good enough.

“I wonder how
Master Annert, Jhonas and the other two are getting on,” Philip
thought aloud as he placed the said compass back in his belt
pouch.

“They’ll do
it,” said Tala, wiping her sandy hand over her hot brow.

“You seem very
sure.”

“I am. Master
Annert is a brilliant man and Professor Angus, why he is reputed to
be a genius! He taught me for a term during my apprentice training.
They’ll do it.”

Danal was
studying the map trying to work out exactly where they were.

“Well?” asked
Derek.

“I think we’ve
got another night’s walk ahead of us before we can say we are out
of their likely route northwards.”

“Good,”
announced Tala. “I’m getting sick of all this skulking about, at
least then we’ll be able to travel in a straight line and not have
to do all this weaving in and out among the sand dunes.”

“They’ll have
scouts out,” warned Inalei from where he lay, head between paws and
looking in under the canvas.

“There’s a
mighty big difference between an occasional scout and a kohort of
Larg,” opined Derek.

“That is not
the problem,” said Inalei in a patient voice. “Remember, the Larg
are like us, they can communicate with each other over distance. If
one Larg sees us then he will tell others. We must tread our paws
with care for three moons more at the very least.”

Tala groaned
and began again to masticate the karku.

Two nights
later their luck ran out.

Inalei had been
right.

A Larg scout
had been waiting, hidden under the sand. The four Lind had not
sensed his presence. It was concluded afterwards that the scout had
sensed, perhaps smelled their approach and had lain in wait above
the wallow they were traversing.

The scout
waited until the first three duos had passed by and then leapt at
the fourth, Derek and Denei, talons at the ready.

Derek died
instantly, his neck broken and Denei howled in anguish as the Larg
talons raked him deep along his side.

Danal and Asya
turned the instant they heard the scream, Danal’s sword slithering
out of its sheath like a spirit of vengeance. They managed to kill
the Larg but they were too late for Denei. He died a half bell
later of blood loss and shock.

Once Denei had
drawn his last breath Danal stood up.

“We have to go
now.”

“We can’t just
leave them here,” protested Tala. “We have to bury them.”

“No time. They
would understand.”

“We can at
least cover them over,” pleaded Tala.

“We’ll use the
groundsheet,” said Philip, “it’ll be big enough and we can weigh it
down with stones. There are plenty of them around.”

There was
indeed no time to bury Derek and Denei. They stripped Denei’s
harness of everything that could be of use then did as Philip
suggested.

“Goodbye Derek
and Denei,” whispered Tala as the party re-mounted, “if we can
we’ll come back and bury you, I promise.”

“Run,” urged
Danal to Asya, “run as if your life depends on it.”

“It does,” was
her acerbic comment as she did.

They rode the
rest of the night and into the morning in grim silence and fast,
trying to put as much distance between them and any Larg who might
be following as possible. The paws of the Lind skimmed over the
sand leaving little puffs of sand dust behind them.

: The sun is
up. Asya, what do we do? Do we hole up or keep going? :

: Inalei
thinks we should stop :
Asya informed Danal.

: But what if
that Larg who killed Derek and Denei told his friends? :

: Inalei thinks
he was scouting on his own but even if he did it cannot be helped.
We need to rest :

That’s it,
decided Danal. If the Lind were indicating they were tired and
needed to rest then there was no point trying to carry on.

: Okay then.
First suitable spot Asya. Tell the others :

They made camp
in silence. It was strange to be without Derek and Denei. They
missed Derek’s sardonic banter and Denei’s occasional quips.

The sun was
starting to go down when Asya, who was on watch, ‘shouted’ in
Danal’s mind
: People are coming! :

: People?
:
queried Danal
: not Larg? :

: People
:
she answered in a firm ‘voice’
: about thirty of them
:

Asya, Inalei
and Jilsei took up a protective stance in front of the awning.

“There are
people out there,” said Danal shaking Philip awake. The Baron
rolled off his bedroll and grasped for his sword. Tala woke with a
start.

“Get your
knife,” Danal ordered. “Asya says there are people
approaching.”

“Out here?”

“Nomads,”
judged Philip, “ex-slaves. I’d heard some make their home
here.”

“Pretty
inhospitable place,” she said.

“Better this
than the slave-pens in some of the mines.”

“So what do we
do?”

“We see what
they want,” replied Danal and Philip nodded. “You never know, they
might be able to help us. Asya, are they on foot?”

“They are
riding,” she answered.

“Desert
jezdic,” Inalei confirmed.

“Horses
wouldn’t last long out here,” said Philip. “Wonder how they managed
to catch and tame them? I don’t like jezdic, do you know that they
can kick forwards, with their
back
hooves?”

“The people are
behind that sand dune over there,” Inalei butted in, “they know we
are here.”

“Tala, get
under the awning,” Danal commanded, drawing his sword.

“I will not,”
she flared and stepped up beside him.

“Behind Inalei
then.”

Tala complied
although she didn’t look happy about it.

They could hear
the murmur of voices and the occasional bray of the jezdic, then
they spied shadowy movements on top of the dune as the nomads
peered over to see who or what lay in their path.

The shadows
disappeared and a disembodied male voice called out, “we know that
you are there. Put away your weapons.”

: I don’t think
so :

: Talk to
them :
urged Asya
: they don’t
sound
dangerous
:

“They’re not
asking us to drop our weapons, only to put them away,” advised
Philip in a low voice. “I think we should do as he says.”

Philip sheathed
his sword and after a moments pause Danal did the same. Tala
replaced her knife in her belt.

“We’ve done
that,” Danal called back.

“Keep your arms
away from your sides,” commanded that same disembodied voice,
“don’t try anything. We have archers and have you surrounded.”

: They have
:
confirmed Asya who had been listening as the nomads formed
their containing circle
: Do as he says :

A mounted
figure loomed out of the darkness and walked towards them. As the
man and his jezdic approached the six saw that the rider was well
wrapped in the flowing garments of the desert inhabitant and that
the jezdic was likewise dark in colour, unlike the jezdic of the
northern continents who were striped black and white. The man’s
mount was nervous and the nomad was holding the creature on a tight
rein. Its nostrils were sniffing in the direction of Asya, Inalei
and Jilsei.

Some
lindlengths away they stopped and the man dismounted. He peered at
them from behind his turban. He stared a long time at the three
Lind. He looked strong and rather heavyset.

“Three men and
three Lind by all that’s holy,” he said at last, “now, that is a
sight not for everyday. What is your business here?”

“We’re passing
through,” answered Danal in an even and cautious voice. “We mean
you no harm.”