Dragons and Destiny (45 page)

“Then we cannot
wait,” decided Julia. “The Lindars are moving east. The seas are
starting to go down. The Island Chain will be passable soon.”

“You mean to go
south to meet them?”

“Murdoch on its
own will not be able to stop them. They need our help. We must
go..” She turned to Alyei.

“Broadcast the
order,” she told him. “I don’t care how they get there but I want
the entire Army of the North, Lindars, Garda, Militia and the Vada
mustered in the Duchy of Duchesne before the end of next month.
Those that can must cross using the Island Chain, the rest must go
by boat. The merchantmen are commandeered?”

“They are,”
Alyei answered.

“Then do it.”
: Where will all this end? :

: It will
end where it must :
answered Alyei as he sat down on his
haunches and prepared to initiate contact with his Lind brothers
and sisters.

* * * * *

The Lord
Marshall

Count Peter
Duchesne, Lord Marshall of the Kingdom of Murdoch drummed his
fingers on his desk as he waited for his visitor, a habit of his
when he was worried.

He had much to
be worried about. Over the last days no less than four disquieting
reports had arrived on his desk and the most recent was the most
worrying of all.

The Larg were
on the move. It was the only explanation.

The fourth
report had come in from one of his agents whose job it had been to
watch and to send back word about any unusual movements of a man
who lived on a small farm in the south-eastern sector of the Duchy
of van Buren. The subject of his agent’s surveillance was dead. The
man, said the report, had gone mad. It was not been the first such
report.

When the
ancestors of the people of Murdoch had arrived on the southern
continent they had, during the first months, come into contact with
the Larg and had formed an uneasy alliance with their four-legged,
warlike neighbours. Lind and Larg might be diametric opposite in
character but they did share certain abilities. Both were
telepathic and were able to influence the minds of certain empathic
humans. The Lind had very strict rules governing its use. The Larg
had no such rules.

Although their
telepathic abilities were neither as fine tuned nor as
sophisticated as their northern cousins, they made full use of the
facility. The Larg used these mind-bondings to find out what was
happening in Murdoch and to send messages to dukes and kings. One
of the Lord Marshall’s duties was to hunt out the unfortunate
people bonded with Larg and to keep them under surveillance.

One of those
who had died had left a note. It sat on Peter Duchesne’s desk.

It was a
strange note, it looked as if the writer had been forcing his hand
to write, possibly resisting a compulsion not to and using two
hands to gouge out the letters.

‘
Larg are
coming.’

Peter Duchesne
sat at his desk, gazing into space and waiting for his visitor. The
visitor was his secret contact with the Susa of the Vada.

There had been
a steady flow of information between the Susa of the Vada and the
Lord Marshall of Murdoch since the middle of the second century
when the then Lord Marshall had offered the Susa a secret mutual
co-operation pact concerning the activities of the Larg. With a few
breaks, this co-operation had continued to the present day.

Peter had been
ready to send his recent information to Susa Julia but now there
was no need. The Susa had sent one of her own to him, which Peter
surmised, meant that she also knew that a serious threat might be
looming on the horizon.

Four deaths.
Does it mean that the Larg don’t need them any more? Sort of action
they would take especially if they’re planning an attack.
Peter
Duchesne’s thoughts were disturbed as his aide popped his head
round the door.

“Sir,” he said,
“the visitor you are expecting had arrived. Shall I show him
in?”

Peter sat up
straighter.

“Yes Captain.
Do that and see that we’re not disturbed.”

“Yes sir,” the
head vanished and the door opened, wide enough to admit the tanned,
fair haired man who entered, bowed and approached Peter’s desk, arm
outstretched in greeting.

“Good to see
you again Peter, it’s been a while,” said Ryzcka Brion of the
Fifty-first Ryzck.

“Brion,”
exclaimed Peter, grasping his visitor’s hand and giving it a hearty
shake, “what’s happening that brings
you
of all people here?
Where’s Qindya? Surely you haven’t brought her with you?”

Brion shook his
head, “she’s back at Vada. She’s not happy about it as you can well
imagine but Julia needed someone with experience here, someone she
could trust, someone you could trust. What I’m about to tell you
will test your credibility to its limits and she knows of our
friendship.”

“I take it that
its not good news then?”

“Not good news
at all.”

“Rather thought
so myself and you being here confirms it. I’ve been receiving
information on my own account which leads me to believe that the
Larg are planning something major. Does Susa Julia think the same?
What intelligence does she have?”

“Murdoch
and
the north will be hit with everything the Largan can
throw,” Brion answered.

“Both?”

“She believes
so. She hasn’t been able to find out where the main attack is going
to hit. It wouldn’t be the first time the Larg have tried to divide
and conquer.”

“When?”

“You have about
a hundred and twenty days, probably less. She doesn’t think the
Largan will wait.”

“Wait? Wait for
what?”

“I’ll tell you
in a moment but you should know that the Largan is gathering his
army at the usual place. We’ll know more when they start to
move.”

“How many
kohorts?”

“All of
them.”

“All of
them!”

“That’s why I
am here. Susa Julia wants to send help. Sit down and take a deep
breath. Here’s the rest of the story.”

Some
candle-marks later, a stunned Peter asked his first question.
“You’ve told me everything? Left nothing out?”

“Nothing,”
Brion assured him, “the Lai exist. The Dglai also exist and they
are coming. We are sure the Larg have come to an accommodation with
them.”

“Their long
awaited opportunity to destroy us.”

“They’ve always
wanted that.”

“Conclave will
never believe me,” fretted Peter, “it sounds too far-fetched.
They’ll think it a northern plot.”

“None will
believe?” asked Brion.

“Well, my
cousin of Duchesne and the Duke of Graham, but even then how can I
tell them about these Lai? An attack by the Larg though, that
they’ll understand. This is not an united country Brion, the Dukes
are a law unto themselves. They pay lip service to King and
Conclave but they have their own interests at heart. I can hear
them now, each and every one saying piously that each duchy is
responsible for its own borders. The King is a sick man, he hasn’t
the strength to even try to override them and the Crown-Prince
doesn’t have the clout. Fealty is to the King, not to him.”

“The
Regiments?”

“Are under my
direct control but I’ll have to defy Conclave to use them.”

“Ducal
forces?”

“Not a
chance.”

“The Larg will
overwhelm them one by one,” warned Brion.

“Susa Julia is
sure that the north is where they’ll head for in the end, after
they’ve destroyed my country duchy by duchy?”

Brion nodded,
“their eventual goal is as ever the destruction and humiliation of
the Lind. They know Murdoch is segmented. They plan to destroy
Murdoch on their way to the north. With Dglai help they’ll do it
too. We are talking about advanced weaponry here, weapons that can
take out a house or a rampart with a single blast of light.”

“I must speak
to Crown-Prince Paul,” said Peter, “there’s a good chance he’ll
understand, he might not believe all of it but he will believe
enough.”

Brion rose to
his feet.

“Tell Susa
Julia,” said Peter Duchesne, “that I will do what I can but even I
and the Regiments cannot be in two places at once. The Duchies of
Cocteau and van Buren are a long way away from Duchesne and
Graham.”

“A war on two
fronts has always been a commander’s nightmare,” agreed Brion.

“And if I split
the regiments into two neither will be able to hold off the Larg
for any appreciable time.”

“I must get
back,” said Brion. “Qindya is waiting and I have a boat standing by
at the wharf.”

Both men
clasped each others hands in a farewell and looked at each other.
There was trust there and mutual respect. Despite their differences
in culture and values, they were more alike than they were not.

“We will meet
again,” said Brion as he drew away, “after all this is over …”

“Give Qindya my
regards,” added Peter as Brion reached the door.

“I will,”
responded Brion with a half wave.

Peter Duchesne
sighed. No one had ever said that the Lord Marshall’s job was an
easy one. He got to his feet an walked over to the wall to which a
map of Murdoch was pinned. He stood gazing at it for a long
time.

A plan began to
form in his mind.

* * * * *

Julia

Julia was
talking to her Second-in-command, an experienced vadeln-pair called
Davin and his Lind Razdya.

“We can wait
behind the defences at Settlement until Murdoch is overrun or we
can go to the south, meet them before Murdoch is destroyed. I
cannot in all conscience stand by and watch them destroy Murdoch.
There is another reason. We must draw attention away from the group
hunting for the power-core, draw their attention to
us
.
Create a big enough noise in north eastern Murdoch and the
attention of every one of our enemies will be drawn there. That
cannot be done if we remain in the north. We have to give Danal and
the others every chance.”

“You are going
to get us all killed,” said Davin but he did not try to dissuade
her.

“If that’s what
it takes,” Julia said. “We don’t
have
a future if we don’t
destroy the Dglai.”

“We go to
Duchesne,” agreed Davin.

Once Davin had
gone, Julia sat at her desk, her head in her hands.

: Am I doing
the right thing Alyei? Am I leading everyone and everylind to their
deaths? :

: You are doing
what you can. It is a bad situation but we are together, that is
what matters to me but for whatever my opinion is worth, yes you
will lead some to death but many more will live because of what you
do. Also, if by our deaths we can save them then we will do it. You
and I … together :

* * * * *

The Militia

Zala buttoned
up her husband’s black uniform militia jacket with shaking
fingers.

“Must you go?”
she asked, unconsciously echoing what women-folk had been asking
for time immemorial as their men-folk went off to fight. Of course,
here in Argyll not only men were in the Garda and Militia, but
women were in the minority. Matt Urquhart’s Militia Company, some
hundred and forty strong was made up entirely of men. When Matt had
described the Officer’s Mess as being akin to a Gentleman’s Club he
had been speaking truth. Women were not welcome in the 131st
Militia Foot. Of the three militia companies in Stewarton, only one
accepted women and there a woman could not become an officer,
commissioned or non-commissioned.

“Zala, you
shouldn’t need to ask that,” Matt answered, “if the Militia is
called up we have to go. It would be desertion if we did not.”

“Emergency.”
Zala’s voice was exasperated. “I’ve heard nothing else since the
call up messages began arriving. What if the Larg are getting up to
their old tricks again? They’re in the south Matt, nothing to do
with us so I don’t know why you’ve got to go.”

“To man the
defences at Settlement,” Matt answered with patience.

“That’s another
thing,” complained Zala, “for years now Council has been boasting
about how no one could possibly breach the Settlement defences and
even you’ve been grumbling about how much of your taxes have been
going for their upkeep. They’re impregnable Matt and there’s the
Garda and the Vada, they’re the professionals, let them guard
it.”

Zala was crying
as she had done off and on since Matt’s orders had arrived. She had
pleaded and begged but Matt had remained adamant. Go he must and
would.

“But I’m
pregnant again,” Zala wailed, “you can’t leave me now.”

Matt kissed
her. Zala always was irritable and tearful in the early stages of
pregnancy.

“Other men are
leaving wives and families. I cannot do any less Zala, surely you
can understand that? Think of your sisters.”

That was the
wrong thing to say and Matt realised it as soon as the words left
his mouth.

“And where
exactly is Tala? Where’s she gone? Baron Philip and the boys too.
What is going on? Nobody tells me anything.”

“That’s not
true Zala, be reasonable.”

“Reasonable?
When my husband is going off, goodness knows where with a bunch of
part-time soldiers who don’t know one end of a sword from the
other?”

“We drill every
ten-night.” Zala wasn’t listening.

“What if you
don’t come back?”

“I’ll be back
before you know it,” Matt answered. He was finding it increasingly
difficult to keep calm under Zala’s onslaught but he kept
going.

“We are trained
Zala, perhaps we’re only part-timers but we
are
trained.
That’s why we Militia are going, not to see any action, last time
the Militia were called they didn’t end up anywhere near
Settlement. They were sent to various sleepy little Garda outposts
to release the Garda for duty on the defensive walls.” Not for
worlds was Matt going to tell her the truth.