Conflict and Courage (42 page)

There was only
one clear way into the thicket, where the branches were thinner,
the way they had come in and the Larg found it, he could see the
branches moving and heard the rustling as he pushed towards
them.

He and Altei
stood waiting, the latter ready to spring.

Jacques knew he
had to stop the Larg now. He pushed in beside Altei and struck up
at the head that emerged with all his might. His aim was true and
the rapier split their enemy’s nose down to the nasal bone. Blood
spurted out. Altei sprang forward and crushed the Larg’s muzzle in
his jaws. Jacques watched mesmerised as the Larg drowned in his own
blood.

The body
twitched for what seemed like hours.

Only then was
Jacques noisily and thoroughly sick.

He heard growls
and shouts outside the thicket and the sound of fighting but paid
little attention. He had shot his bolt. He could do no more.

“Anyone in
there?”

“Is
Weaponsmaster Wilhelm and Mislya,” gasped Altei in relief. “We are
safe.”

Jacques
collapsed.

When Wilhelm
forced himself in to them, clambering over the inert body of the
Larg he found Altei standing protectively over the unconscious
Carol and one small dishevelled boy, bloody sword in one hand,
bloody knife in the other, lying quite still in a little heap.

* * * * *

As this was
happening, Aoalvaldr was running south, following the tracks of
Duchesne and the infantry.

He caught up
with them at sunset.

He sent
Bvdmaldr a short report when he sighted them, one that would have
severe repercussions for the Larg during the days that
followed.

: Caught up
with stronghold people and will come to you when they dead :

Bvdmaldr, busy
trying to keep his paws on the deck of the storm-bound transport,
caught only a few words, stronghold, people and dead.

He assumed that
Aoalvaldr and his three hundred were already on their way to the
beachhead and that he had cleared the area of all opposition.

* * * * *

“Still want to
be a member of the Vada lad?” asked Wilhelm once he had got Jacques
and Carol out of the thicket, “now that you’ve seen what war is all
about?”

“More than ever
Weaponsmaster,” Jacques gazed at the man, “now I have to don’t you
see?”

The
Weaponsmaster looked down at the blood-streaked face of the boy in
front of him, standing so straight and tall.

Wilhelm held
long-standing misgivings regarding training youngsters the art of
war but now at last he understood.

“Jtanya and I
will be your best pupils ever,” continued Jacques, coming to
attention and saluting.

“I look forward
to it,” answered Wilhelm and found that he really meant what he
said.

He was not to
know it then, but standing in front of him was his eventual
successor.

* * * * *

The fate of
Knlvaldr’s hundred was a foregone conclusion once Jim, Larya and
their little army entered the fray.

Not only were
woodlands the natural habitat of the Lind but the hundred were
outnumbered by over thirty-to-one.

The Larg didn’t
stand a chance.

After it was
over Jim listened to the reports with satisfaction and sent a
small, armed group to inform the waiting parents and friends that
all danger to the children was over.

Wilhelm rode up
to Jim and took the proffered hand in a firm clasp.

“Glad you made
it in time,” was his laconic understatement.

“Sitrep?” Jim
demanded.

Wilhelm gave it
in his usual succinct manner adding his own observations and
interpretations, “Alesei tells Mislya the pirates are ransacking
the stronghold.” He shrugged that away, homes could be rebuilt and
possessions replaced, “they’ll leave soon enough,” he continued,
“and I am convinced the stronghold isn’t the Larg’s main objective,
more in the nature of a diversion.”

“I agree, but
we can’t leave the people undefended. You think the galleys aren’t
much of a threat?”

Wilhelm
reiterated his belief that the galleys would depart as soon as
their Captains learned of Aoalvaldr’s failure to capture the people
who had fled the stronghold.

Jim homed in on
the name.

“Aoalvaldr?”

“Alesei thinks
it is him. He’s taken around two hundred of his warriors south. I’m
worried about Duchesne and the infantry; if Aoalvaldr finds them
they’ll have a desperate fight on their hands.”

“Nell and
Menlei can take command here. I’ll leave her with the junior cadets
and the back ryz of pack Ranetei too as insurance; she can escort
the inhabitants back to the stronghold when Alesei reports the
galleys have departed. They’ll be safe enough here in the woods
until then. The rest of us will ride south to the relief of the
Keep. That includes the senior cadets here who will be under your
direct command. Brian Randall can assist; he’s got a sensible head
on his shoulders. I want you and the cadets to be responsible for
the security of our rear, not that the Larg are likely to creep up
on us unawares. The frontal approach is their style. Aoalvaldr has
been planning this revenge of his for years if Fernei is to be
believed and I want him stopped, he’s been a thorn on our flesh for
far too long.”

* * * * *

That Brian was
angry because Emily was with the relieving force was an
understatement. She had left Alexander with her parents and joined
the Holad section with Winston Randall.

Now she refused
point blank to remain with the refugees in the woods despite
Brian’s pleas to the contrary.

“I’m a trained
medic,” she insisted, “please try to understand. Winston and the
others need me.”

“Try to keep
out of trouble,” Brian said at last when he realised she would not
be moved, “there are enough orphans on this world without adding
another.”

Emily
promised.

After a short
meal break, Jim and Larya led their command south, thundering past
the column of refugees being escorted to the woods who gave them a
loud cheer of encouragement.

They found the
tracks of Aoalvaldr and his warriors without any trouble and also
those of the infantry. The tracks were converging on each
other.

It was obvious
to Jim that the Weaponsmaster had the right of it. He hoped
Duchesne could hold on until they could reach him. Two hundred Larg
warriors versus a mere three hundred or so infantry caught in the
open were not good odds.

* * * * *

For Geraldine,
the rest of the Fourth Ryzck and the villagers taking precarious
refuge in David’s Keep, the waiting was the worst. Long-eyed Ganya
had been the first to sight the enemy and she and Duguld were
sitting on top of the highest wall watching and reporting at
regular intervals.

: Still only
three ships :
Ganya reported to Jsei, straining to see through
the driving rain. The wind was getting stronger and the rain
heavier but still she sat nestled into Duguld, a large rain-cape
around them both. It wasn’t much help; they were both soaked
through to the skin.

With feverish
haste, the defenders were finishing knocking the jaggy slates into
the incipient mud outside the walls. It was backbreaking and
miserable work but they did not stop for a rest.

: Duguld says
mist is forming :

This storm
is going to last
, decided Geraldine.

“These early
summer squalls spring up from nowhere,” offered Sean Wylie, Captain
of the biggest ketch in the village fleet, “usually last two to
three days once they really get going and if I’m any judge Ryzcka
Geraldine, there’ll be no enemy fleet landing for at least a day,
even two. It’s an offshore wind and it’s not likely to veer any
time soon.”

Geraldine made
the mistake of telling him she didn’t understand. The man’s
detailed and long lecture about wind and tides left her not much
the wiser but she did realise that they had been granted at least
two day’s grace, perhaps more.

“The winds are
in the wrong direction,” Duguld confirmed.

The winds
whistled round their buildings, setting the tented roof flapping.
There was no chance of a hot meal. The wicks in the travelling
stoves blew out every time they tried to light one.

Geraldine
wondered if she would ever feel warm again.

: Francis and
Asya will be here by then :

That night
horizontal sleet-rain arrived. The defenders huddled under what
shelter they could and waited it out.

The storm was
almost as bad some miles north where Francis and Asya led the
relief force south.

: It getting
worse :
gasped Asya.

: The Larg have
not landed. Their fleet is still offshore and cannot get in :

The wind
chilled them to the bone. Francis and the rest gritted their teeth
and bent their bodies as flat as they could upon their mounts’
necks. The Lind did not falter.

* * * * *

Duchesne and
the foot soldiers did not intend to die without a fight.

They fought the
night through, forming the circle, a manoeuvre well known to the
southern regiments, each man standing tight with his neighbour.
When one man or woman fell, or was dragged away by one of the Larg
attackers, the two on either side closed up, keeping the circle
intact.

Duchesne’s men
found themselves fighting side by side with the men and women who
had volunteered to march with them and found them to be little
different to themselves. They certainly bled just as much.

They grew
thirsty, they grew tired but they did not give up.

The only
alternative was to die, but deliverance was coming.

Jim and Larya’s
little army made a fine sight as they ran south, the Tenth Ryzck
commanded by Richard and Dahlya, the Lindars of Afanasei, Malkei,
Ranetei and Velsei, Winston and the Holad and the sundry
vadeln-pairs gathered up by Jim after the recall. With them ran
Tara and Kolyei.

: Front
scouts smell blood :
‘sent’ Kolyei to Tara.

: Where? :

: Ahead :

: Afanasei and
Malkei Lindars take point. We have found Duchesne’s infantry :

When the
Lindars fell on Aoalvaldr’s two hundred, the result was pretty
predictable. Aoalvaldr did not stand a chance.

He died as he
had lived, angry and fighting to his last breath.

The relief
force only stayed long enough to enable Duchesne and those who
could still fight to mount up on any Lind willing to bear them and
they were off, leaving a medic and ten young Lind to guard the
injured survivors. Again Brian was unable to persuade Emily to
remain behind.

They galloped
south the entire day, stopping twice for a brief rest. When dusk
fell, they stopped for the night at the farm of Mark’s parents.

The four
Lindars and the other Lind practically denuded the family of
anything remotely edible on the farm. Mark’s father kept back only
the females in foal of both kura and zarova, knowing the Lind would
replace the other stock when they could.

As friends of
Mark from their cadet days, Tara, Emily, Brian, Eitel and Tina were
invited to take dinner with the family together with Jim Cranston
and Richard Moreno.

The five
ex-cadets accepted gladly, as Tina said, it beat travel rations
hands down. Richard refused, saying that he preferred to eat with
his Ryzck; he still felt awkward and ashamed about his origins and
knew an elder brother of Mark had died during the Battle of the
Alliance.

The family
accepted his refusal in the spirit it was given and Mark’s mother
excelled herself and became most popular when she sent a huge
cauldron of tasty stew to the camp, enough for the entire human
element in the relief force.

The six friends
spent a pleasant evening together (Jim had also sent his regrets).
They did not speak about the battle to come but about their cadet
days, Eitel, Tina and Mark’s time with the Ryzck and Brian, Emily
and Tara’s adventures in the west. They slept in real beds that
night, Mark’s little brothers and sisters being sent over to the
barn to bed down in the hay for once.

“You’ll fight
with us, won’t you Tara?” asked Mark, “don’t stay with the cadets.
Brian and Sofiya have to, I know, and Emily will be with the
medics.”

“Peter would
never forgive us if we let you and Kolyei fight amongst strangers,”
added Tina.

Tara agreed.
She was determined to play a part in the battle.

This time she
would not be underage. She would not be able to hide in the
rear.

“I’ll come with
you as long as Richard and Dahlya say me and Kolyei can,” she said,
surprising herself, “and as long as you think I’m able for it. I’m
a mite out of practice.”

“We were all
trained by the Weaponsmaster,” put in Tina, “and you were competent
by the time we graduated.”

“Not as good as
you.”

“Well,”
answered Tina in a self-deprecatory fashion, “you see, some of us
have this natural talent,” and was promptly smothered under a
deluge of cushions and pillows as her friends reacted.

That was their
last evening of light-hearted banter; it was also their last
evening of reasonable weather.

The storm
increased in its intensity during the night. Jim’s relief force
woke to heavy rain and gale-force winds.

Tara rode side
by side with her friends of the Tenth Ryzck and as she rode, began
to realise what life in a Ryzck was like. The Tenth was a
tight-knit and happy Ryzck and Richard and Dahlya good leaders.
Reports on what was happening at the Keep came in regularly and
Richard made sure everybody knew all that there was to know.