Conflict and Courage (8 page)

“Talya misses
her,” Asya added referring to the Lind healer that had been working
with Laura at the domta.

“Both are
well,” said Francis with a grin, “Laura is growing huge!”

Asya wagged her
tail, confident that the next piece of news would surprise all
present.

“I and Faddei
expecting too,” she announced, stumbling a little over the fourth
word. The Lind term for pregnancy was unpronounceable by the
humans. In Vadath language patterns were shifting towards a common
ground, the most easily pronounceable word being given credence and
usage above the other. In fact, in Vadath, the human Standard was
gaining in ascendancy and more and more Vadathian Lind were
beginning to speak it, interspersed with Lindish. “Lin born will be
at end of cold season.”

“How will you
manage with the Vada?” asked Jim of Francis, a twinkle in his
eyes.

“I expect
things will be much as usual although we’ll not be leading any
patrols for a while.”

“We come visit
soon,” promised Larya, her eyes alight with the promise of the
birth of her first grandchildren, or grandlind as they were
becoming known by the two-legged and the four-legged inhabitants of
Vadath. The Lind pronunciation of the word for grandchildren was
even worse for the humans than the one for pregnancy.

* * * * *

Some days later
Jim and Larya appeared at the Avuzdel base. “Is there any news of
Aoalvaldr?” he asked.

Fernei gazed at
Jim out of liquid brown eyes.

“Good and bad,”
he answered, “we were surprised to learn that he was not executed
on the spot. The Larg are not known for being the most
forgiving.”

“He was
reprieved then. That’s not good hearing. What is he doing? Is he
still Commander of the army?”

“No, the Largan
did not go that far. Aoalvaldr is not at the Largan’s domta, that
much we know. He appears to have vanished into the unseeing
air.”

“No leads
then?”

“Leads?”

“None of your
spies can find out where he is?” expanded Jim.

“He has left
Larg home-ranges, that is all we know.”

“What do you
think?”

“He has gone
north to the coast,” said Fernei, “he has a following, a group of
Larg who are dissatisfied with the way the Largan has handled the
situation, those outside his immediate circle. Aoalvaldr can still
do much damage.”

“I was afraid
you’d say that,” said Jim with a sigh.

* * * * *

The subject of
their conversation was exactly where Fernei thought he was which
says much for Fernei’s astuteness and grasp of the situation.

Aoalvaldr and
his followers had set up base camp some fifty miles east of the
Duchesne lordship, Aoalvaldr having reasoned that was the best
place for him and his retainers to keep an eye on the inhabitants
of both the northern and southern continents.

He frequently
left the camp and sneaked back to the north, intent on finding out
what his enemies were up to.

With ease he
would evade the northern patrols and make his way into the
heartlands of the Lind, taking note as he went that the northern
humans appeared to be spreading out up the eastern seaboard. The
land too was changing under human management. Wild kura and zarova
herds were now in the minority in the east but grew more numerous
the further west he ran.

During his
third foray north and as he splashed through the river that marked
the boundary between Argyll and Vadath, he got a shock.

The previously
empty land south of the rtathlians of the four warrior packs
nearest to the island chain was a hive of activity, there were many
humans and Lind, all working and apparently living together!

He cursed the
necessity as he took a circuitous route around them, pondering long
and hard on what this meant, eventually realising that this was
where the Vada must have decided to set up their base.

The Vada, the
cause of all his misfortunes. It was they who had turned his
certain victory into a degrading defeat. They were the root cause
of his present disgrace.

* * * * *

“I do not, I
repeat not want the stronghold inundated with unattached Lind, all
searching for their perfect partner,” exploded Francis when he
heard, some days after his return to the stronghold, that yet
another group was on its way.

“How can you
stop them?” asked Laura. “You can hardly set up barriers to keep
them out and you do need more vadeln-pairs to get the Vada up to
strength.”

“They don’t
understand that there is only a finite number of colonists
available. The farmers especially are not going to be best pleased
if all their sons and daughters desert them for the Vada.” He was
pacing restlessly up and down their living area. “What am I to
do?”

“Get Asya to
bespeak Larya,” she suggested. “Tell her and Jim to impose a limit
on the numbers that can search from each pack. They will listen to
them.”

“Some have
already left for Argyll,” he warned.

“Let them be,”
she counselled. “There are no more than sixty of them all told and
these mostly from the four home packs. Just limit any further
searching. I think many are jealous of those who have already
vadeln-paired.”

“The Vada is
the place to be. Is that it?” was his amused question.

“It
is
a
novelty my love.”

“Reports are
that this group are all young, barely into adulthood.”

“But old enough
to have experienced their first battle and watched the Vada lead
the Lindars to victory. Stop worrying. The novelty will wear off.
Leave Jim and Larya to impose the limits and leave it there.” She
grinned with a mischievous gleam. “I have an idea though. Why don’t
you set the unattached to work right here at the stronghold? After
they have dragged their first batch of trees in to help build the
walls I’m sure their youthful enthusiasm will pall. Lind youngsters
are much like our own in that respect. Word will get round the
packs that a journey here might not be the holiday they think it
is.”

“We could sure
use their help,” admitted Francis, “the walls are going up far too
slowly for my liking.”

“And the
medical facility,” she reminded, “training will begin soon and
there are bound to be injuries.”

“It might work
at that.”

“Set my Faddei
on to them,” she further suggested, “you and Asya are busy and most
of my time is spent with the Holad. I think he’s finding time lying
heavily on his paws.”

“He would be
the first ever Lind building supervisor,” laughed Francis.

It has to be
said, that when Faddei was told of the plan that evening, he was
delighted at the chance (he found human building methods
fascinating) and immediately left them and Asya for a chat with a
human called Nils who was in charge of the building programme. Nils
was also delighted, he had been worried about the slow progress and
the winter cold was only weeks away.

Faddei became
as fully proficient as Nils at reading and interpreting the plans
and progress was rapid after the unattached Lind joined the
workforce. Faddei even designed some areas of the stronghold
himself, although Nils had to do the actual drawings. Laura was
very proud of him.

Francis
however, continued to fret about what the colonists would say when
yet more of their children were claimed by the Vada. Even as he
worried, eager young Lind were inside Argyll’s borders searching
them out.

* * * * *

Duguld McCallum
wiped his brow, the perspiration dripping off him as he toiled in
the soon to be planted fields on the gentle slopes around the
McCallum cabin. The building sat, stark in its newness beside the
river that would irrigate the root crops. In the small paddocks
browsed a small number of kura who provided the family with their
dairy needs. Saplings of native fruit trees were settling into the
ground of the embryo orchard.

It was
backbreaking work, tilling the soil for this first all-important
planting. Duguld paused momentarily from his labours to wonder anew
why his father had insisted that they plant, rather than do the
same as their neighbours and concentrate on building up their kura
and zarova herds. These farmers would rely on the wild roots and
grains that grew in abundance in this part of Argyll, halfway
towards the great inland lake that some were calling Lake Stewart,
in remembrance of their late commanding officer who had died
leading the defence of Settlement.

Alastair
McCallum would only declare that the future was with root
crops.

“Many will take
the easy option,” he told his son often, “but the wild roots will
not feed the population for ever. Believe me, within two years we
will be well rewarded for our labours when the demand for staples
like redroot and greenroot rises. Redroots this year and perhaps
some of the wild maize. Bread is and will continue to be, a basic
food. We will make our fortunes, you’ll see.”

Alastair
McCallum had great plans for both his farm and his only son
Duguld’s future but he wondered sometimes if Duguld’s heart was in
it. The boy had inherited certain tendencies from his mother that
Alastair deplored such as her love of reading and music. This
wouldn’t have been an insurmountable problem in itself but Duguld
was, to his father’s chagrin, far too interested in the latter to
the detriment of his farm work. The boy blew his mother’s old
trumpet whenever he had a moment to himself and also when he was
supposed to be working. Alastair was making plans to get rid of the
instrument.

He was not best
pleased when he spied a lone dark-striped Lind approaching his
farmstead, who asked in broken Standard if she could drink and rest
for a while. She did so, appearing to ignore those who came to ogle
and watch as she lapped up the fresh water. Instead of leaving as
the elder McCallum thought she should, she appeared disposed to
rest in the orchard for the night and settled down in a quiet
corner.

Knowing
something of what the Lind were about, she was not the first Lind
to pass this way, he warned his son to stay away from her and, with
vim and point, ignored her presence, believing that as always
Duguld would obey him.

He was
understandably angry when late that night on his rounds he spied
Duguld and the Lind talking together.

“What is the
meaning of this?” he shouted, angry at the blatant disobedience and
began to march towards them intending to let his son know all about
it. Chastisement was in order.

Ganya and
Duguld’s heads turned towards him.

“We were just
talking father,” Duguld answered, edging away. He knew his father’s
heavy hand of old, “Ganya here was telling me about her rtath.
That’s the Lind word for pack you know.”

“I do know,”
Alastair replied through clenched teeth, “now you get off to the
cabin where you belong and go to bed. We have a full day’s work
ahead of us tomorrow.”

Duguld left and
Alastair turned to Ganya. “You can stay here tonight,” he said,
trying to keep his anger in check, “but I want you well away from
here at sunup, do you hear?”

“It shall be as
you wish,” she replied and lay down again.

Alastair
watched her for a while, wondering if it was possible to order her
off his land but he was unsure of the law regarding trespass by a
Lind. It had been their continent before mankind had arrived and
Ganya was on the large side. He would most definitely come off the
worst if he got into an argument with her.

“Dawn,” he
contented himself by way of warning as he turned away.

Ganya opened
one eye as she watched him disappear into the evening gloom then
shut it again. She was also planning a busy day for the morrow.

Alastair
McCallum spent a restless night and in the morning his worst fears
were realised when he discovered that Duguld was gone. His son had
taken most of his clothes, a holo of his dead mother and his
grandfather’s silver trumpet.

His father set
about preparing himself for a journey to Settlement, cursing all
Lind and conveniently forgetting how much they had done for them
all. He would arrange that his son be returned to him forthwith and
if Robert Lutterell did nothing then he would do something about it
himself.

Alastair
McCallum could not accept that his only son would not inherit the
farm.

He was doomed
to disappointment. Robert Lutterell refused to take any action in
order to repatriate Duguld and forbade Alastair permission to go to
Vadath and retrieve his son himself. Alastair McCallum had been an
awkward and argumentative passenger on the WCCS
Argyll
and
Robert was secretly full of glee to hear that young Duguld had
managed to circumvent his father’s wishes.

That night
Robert toasted Duguld and his newfound life-partner and wished the
two of them all the best for the future.

* * * * *

At the Vada
stronghold, after the office block, the medical facility, cookhouse
and individual dagas had been built, the workgroups began building
the cadet barracks, Susa Francis having decreed that the cadets
needed a central somewhere to live. He did not wish the cadet
vadeln-pairs strung out throughout the countryside, outside the
safety of the walls.

Brian and
Sofiya were making themselves at home. They had been the first
cadets to arrive at the half-built stronghold and took a
proprietary interest in it since they had helped build it with
their own hands and paws.