Conflict and Courage (47 page)

They landed on
the muddy ground with a bang that forced the breath out of Tara,
then the Larg turned on them.

The battle
lines surged one way then the other. The battle was not yet won. If
the Larg managed to regroup they might still win the day.

Lying winded on
the ground Tara became aware of the low thrumming growl of rage
from thousands of Lind throats as the news came that their beloved
Ruza Jim, Susyc of their army had fallen and the Lindars and Vada
Ryzcks pressed harder, intent on finishing it once and for all.

The Larg sensed
this, knowing at that moment that the Lind would give no
quarter.

Some of the
Larg kohorts reacted unpredictably. Life was sweet. Honour be
damned. The Lind had never before wished to kill all in their path.
They would no longer be content with cleansing the lands of the
Larg, this time they wanted to kill them.

Bvdmaldr had no
reinforcements to disembark, so sure he had been that twelve
kohorts would be enough. He had been assured the north would be
taken by surprise and that the Lindars were many days run away.

What has gone
wrong?

Then he
received word that the human regiments were preparing to evacuate.
They had let loose the captured kura and zarova not already
embarked.

Bvdmaldr came
to a reluctant decision. He would save what he could out of this
mess. He himself would stay, honour demanded the ultimate sacrifice
but he could order the survivors to go, thus saving them from the
Largan’s wrath and disgrace.

He ordered all
but his own kohort back to the beachhead and to evacuate.

Those humans
who remained he would force to continue their defence of the
perimeter fence and his kohort would form the rearguard, buying
enough time for the others to get away. The northerners would be
unlikely to attack the fences, rough and ready as they were, their
sharp staves a formidable barrier. The Lind were not fools, they
knew that attacks on human-made fortifications was costly.

The kohorts
disengaged and fled.

One brave
kohort refused Bvdmaldr’s order, as was their right and they joined
with Bvdmaldr’s own and a number of like-minded individuals and
moved into formation.

Bvdmaldr
watched as his enemies bore down on him. Death was his future. As
he lunged he had time only for a fleeting thought of his mate and
young ones playing in the sun around their den. Seconds later he
was dead.

Many leagues
south, his family were not out enjoying the sun. The young ones lay
quiet, their chests still, their pain-filled whimpering silenced at
last. Bvdmaldr’s mate lay beside her dead litter, struggling for
breath, her own fight for life almost over.

For sickness
had come to the lands of the Larg, none knew from whence it came,
it was spreading like wildfire from pack to pack.

There was no
known cure.

None of
Bvdmaldr’s kohort or the others that fought with him lived long
enough to see the last southern ships leave.

They died and
with them died the war.

Now was the
time to tend to the wounded, to grieve for the fallen and to wonder
yet again just why the Larg continued to attack time and time
again. Rybak was a large planet; surely there was room for all to
live in peace?

* * * * *

Peter and Radya
were frantic with worry. Linked mind-to-mind with Kolyei, Radya had
watched the battle for the ridge from Kolyei’s eyes, had felt their
despair the previous evening and the pain as they fought.

They sensed the
jubilation when the Larg kohorts broke then the gut-wrenching fear
as the wounded Larg attacked the injured Susyc.

Peter and Radya
shared Tara and Kolyei’s brave leap to save Jim and Larya, then
nothing.

: I cannot
sense Kolyei :
whined Radya.

: They are
not dead :
Peter ‘shouted’ in her mind.
: Knocked out but
not dead. Don’t close down on me :

But Radya
continued to whine even as she strained her mind out towards the
ridge, desperate to catch even a faint sliver of thought from
Kolyei’s mind.

Her ears
twitched and Radya relaxed.

: I feel him.
He is weak but he is alive :

Peter took a
deep breath.

“Can you sense
anything else?” he asked urgently, “what of Tara?”

: Hurt. I sense
pain. Much pain :

: Any more?
:

: No bleeds I
think, none that are big but many hurts :

Tara and Kolyei
had been stunned by the impact.

Kolyei came to
his senses.

To his left the
Larg lay beside them and to his alarm the huge tawny body was still
breathing. Tara, where was Tara? He could not feel her on his back.
The impact must have dislodged her from the saddle.

Then out of his
uninjured eye he saw Tara, mouth set hard against the pain from her
injuries, drag herself over his inert body and, with a grunt of
effort, slither down beside his head, putting herself between him
and the Larg who was now crawling towards them. She struggled to
get her knife out of her belt.

: I’ll get him.
I’ll get him :

The Larg’s
mouth was close to Kolyei’s throat.

The determined
and desperate Tara settled the knife in her hand, too slow she was
thinking, but she couldn’t move any faster. She knew she wouldn’t
be able to stop the killing bite in time.

Eitel and Jilya
appeared out of nowhere. The young man’s sword swished down through
the air like a glinting nemesis, the Larg shuddered, his blood
spilling out over Tara.

: Tara?
:
ventured Kolyei. Pain racked his body, muscles protested as
he tried to reach her.

: It hurts
:
her ‘voice’ was faint
: I think every bone in my body is
broken and my side feels damp :

Eitel’s voice
appeared to be coming from a great distance as he dismounted and
bent down beside them, Jilya standing guard. The kohorts were
fleeing towards the coast, but the danger was not over. The
battlefield was littered with the dead and dying but more than one
Larg remained alive. Each and every one of them was eager to kill
one last enemy before he breathed his last.

Tara was
unconscious now; Kolyei was awake.

“I saw it
happen but couldn’t reach you in time,” Eitel said to him as he
ripped apart Tara’s armour to get at the wound. He had to stop the
bleeding before she died from blood loss and shock. “It was a brave
thing you both did.”

Kolyei turned a
despairing head towards the motionless bodies of Jim and Larya.

Tara
roused.

“Jim?”

The question
was barely audible and Eitel strained to hear it.

“Hold on,” he
said and crawled over to look.

“Alive,” he
answered, “I can stop the bleeding, but I can’t do much more until
I get him to the medics.”

“Larya?”

“She’ll live,
but I don’t think she’ll be bouncing around for a while. I’ve heard
Peter and Radya are on their way.”

“Nice,”
whispered Tara and she drifted back into unconsciousness.

Eitel and Jilya
went to seek help.

From the Keep
the weary defenders watched as the remainder of the regiments of
Murdoch evacuated. They set loose any herds not already embarked.
This caused a lot of confusion as the half-crazed beasts stampeded
away from the smell, the death and the pain-filled keening that was
now the battlefield.

Francis
listened to the remembered lament, the song for the fallen that he
had first heard after the Battle of the Alliance nine years before.
This time, human voices joined with the Lind, their two species as
one in their quest to keep the northern continent free.

“
No more
shalt you run, hunt and play,

Under the soft
warm sun of day.

He who hast
died, he hast gone away,

She who hast
fallen, she canst not stay.

Midst trees
tall,

We mourn you
all.

Midst mountains
high,

We for you
sigh,

Midst rivers
fast,

We sing of
seasons past.

Midst valleys
deep,

We thy memory
keep.

Midst meadows
bare,

Thy deaths we
will share.

He who has died
has gone away,

She who has
fallen canst not stay.

Be still, mine
rtathen.”

The Battle of
Trumpet Keep was over.

The Larg
invasion of Vadath had turned into a rout.

The revenge
planned by Aoalvaldr the Larg had failed.

* * * * *

Francis and
Asya, with Jim and Larya incapacitated, took command.

From the Keep’s
walls, they watched as the Larg fled past, intent on reaching the
beachhead before the Lind.

Although he
dearly wished to harry and to perhaps kill them all, Francis knew
there was no way he could.

The northern
army was too bone weary, there were too many wounded and, as
Francis calmed down, the need to kill dissipated. Let them go.
Vadath was safe again. More importantly, the old, the children and
the younglings were safe. No point in prolonging the slaughter.
Many were dead and reports were coming in of other Larg
depredations to the west. Not all the Larg were fleeing. Some were
still hunting and killing. They would need to be hunted down before
they killed again.

No, let them
go. Demoralised and defeated, he hoped it would be a long time
before they ventured north again.

The herds could
be replaced, homes and dagas rebuilt, but so many lives had been
lost in the insanity.

As the Lind had
been wondering for generations, so Francis wondered just why the
Larg kept coming north on their missions to kill and destroy. He
could understand their need to augment their food supply in times
of drought, but this attack, Francis knew, had, at its root,
revenge and hate.

Asya sensed his
thoughts.

: They need
only ask, we gladly would give herds but they never ask, they
always attack and then come killing and death. We tried but Larg
not listen :

: We have to
find a way to make them listen :

Asya shook her
head. She knew, better than Francis that that was impossible.

Francis
recollected himself to his duties as Susyc.

: Tell the
Lindars to keep the beachhead contained. More Lindars are expected
and they will help. I don’t want any breakouts :

Asya sent the
order then looked at Francis expectantly. Francis didn’t notice, he
was gazing into space, his mind a blank. He didn’t want to think,
he needed time to recover but was realising, as Jim had before him,
that he could not, must not.

“I’m going to
visit the injured,” he said with a sigh, coming to himself. He
remembered that Jim and Larya had always made a point of doing this
as soon as they possibly could.

“I take you
there,” answered Asya. “Holad dom is at the ridge. Those with hurts
will be glad to see you and hear news of victory.”

“Victory?” he
patted Asya on her neck, careful of her stitches. “Yes, I suppose
it is a victory, but it doesn’t feel like it.”

* * * * *

Emily almost
didn’t recognise the battered female, nor the bloody form of her
rider pinned beneath. Sofiya’s throat was torn apart. Sofiya’s
lifeblood was seeping away and Emily could do nothing to stop
it.

Brian might
have lived with immediate care and surgery but all Emily could do
was watch his anguished gaze as he felt his life partner lose her
battle for life. Emily knew he would not wish to continue without
his Sofiya.

“Emily,” he
gasped out and placed his torn hand on Emily’s own as she
frantically tried to stem the blood. His blood mingled with
Sofiya’s own as his trembling hand fumbled towards his life-mate’s
inert form.

Then there was
emptiness within Brian’s mind where Sofiya had been.

Emily could
only sit quietly beside him, his head nestled in her lap as Brian
too breathed his last. It did not take long and then he was gone,
leaving a great emptiness within her.

She turned a
grief-stricken face to Ilyei, her tears flowing unchecked, as she
stumbled to her feet absently rubbing her bloody hands on her
tunic. Brian’s blood.

“We’re on our
own again Ilyei,” she whispered. He leaned against her in mutual
comfort and Emily drew strength from him as they mourned
together.

: I loved
Sofiya :
his thought cracked with emotion.

: Why us?
:
Emily wept
: First Thomas and Stasya and now Brian and
Sofiya :

: It is war.
This why Lind hate war :

He nudged her
hard with his snout and Emily staggered back in surprise.

: What? :

: Grieve later.
Others need our help. You must be strong :

He nudged her
again.

: Tara and
Kolyei. Look :

Through her
tears she saw their friends on the ground, still and quiet. For a
wild moment Emily thought the two had joined Brian and Sofiya in
death’s blue pastures.

: They are
alive but need help :

As Emily
stumbled towards them she realised that Tara was moving.

: Kolyei is
not awake :
offered Ilyei.

Emily allowed
herself one last fleeting glance at Brian then knelt beside
them.

“I’m stuck
underneath, I think my legs are broken, in fact I think everything
is broken.”

“When were you
wounded?” queried Emily, feeling for her pulse and shunting her
grief to one side. Ilyei was right, others needed her skills and
there would be time to mourn later. Tara did not answer. She had
fainted again.

Emily ran her
hands over as much as she could reach of Tara and Kolyei and, to
her relief, she felt no major bleeds. Someone had smeared Smaha
salve on the only large wound and roughly bandaged it. She sensed
someone coming up behind her and Ilyei.