“What do you plan, Captain?”
“We will not attack again until I see how they reorganize the caravan. They may have to drop off some of the wains in order to provide full teams for those that remain. Once we see what they decide to do and how they reorder defense, we’ll start our attacks again. From now on, however, our method of attack must change.”
“Yes sir, I understand your reasoning. The Salchek are warned. Were we to attempt another attack such as our first we would get stomped.”
“Nicely put and exactly to the point. Now we must employ hit and run tactics: small groups of archers slipping in close to loose several flights of arrows. Wolves prowling the horses. We must never give them rest. As much as I dislike centering our efforts on the horses, we really have no other option that will prove effective.”
Although it was getting late, Jeff was moved for the first time in many weeks to play his recorder. Recalling odd bars of Afternoon of a Faun, he improvised the gaps. Within minutes Helwin was asleep with head resting on her knees.
Jeff tucked the recorder away and smiled softly as he watched shadows play across her face. While asleep, Helwin’s features were those of an exhausted young woman with strong suggestions of the girl that still resided within. It was easy to forget she was no more than eighteen or nineteen. Jeff shifted position, allowing a clump of snow on the collar of his coat to slip inside and down his back. He shivered and got to his feet.
“Gurthwin was right. I don’t know how I could do this without her friendship.”
Helwin was so groggy when awakened that he gave her a hand up. No more than on her feet and she plopped back down.
“Okay, I can deal with this.”
Jeff supported Helwin to her lean-to a few yards from the fire. She nearly fell when he removed his arm.
“Whoa! Steady as she goes! Time to return a favor, Lieutenant. Let me give you a hand getting your clothes off.”
Helwin was nearly asleep on her feet and didn’t respond other than to lean against him.
“I think that means yes,” Jeff said, and chuckled. “We got us a situation here, Lieutenant. How in hell am I going to do this?”
It was pitch black and Jeff had to work by feel. The jacket was no problem, but trying to get the woolen shirt over her head proved difficult. Scooting it up, his hands brushed across Helwin’s breasts and she cooed in his ear.
“Stop that!”
Helwin was so tired she was tipsy, and just giggled.
“At least hold your arms up so I can get this off!”
“Like this?”
Helwin held her arms up in a languid movement that elevated her breasts to full display. They were gorgeous.
“Oh, wow,” Jeff muttered under his breath, “this is cruel and unusual punishment.” Keeping his eyes glued to Helwin’s chin, he pulled the sweater over her head. “Okay. Crawl into the lean-to. We have to get those wet pants off.”
Draping her arms over Jeff’s shoulders, Helwin rested her cheek against his head. “I feel like a babe, Jeffrey.”
Helwin was so tall that her breasts pressed against his chest almost at neck level. Jeff carefully placed his hands on her back. It seemed to be the safest place. Helwin’s skin was so siky smooth that he sighed with pleasure.
“Lieutenant, you are definitely a babe. Now come on. Before you freeze and I lose it entirely, let’s get you under cover.”
When Helwin was stretched out in the lean-to, Jeff pulled off her boots. “Lift your hips so I can get these pants off.” No answer except a soft snore.
“Damn. She can’t sleep in those pants—they’re soaked. How am I going to get them off? She weighs more than I do!”
Wedging into the lean-to, Jeff straddled Helwin’s legs and wrestled sodden leather pants over her hips inch by inch, cursing under his breath all the while. The whole situation abruptly struck Jeff as so ridiculous that he began snickering. After that, the fact that Helwin was wearing no underpants didn’t even bother him. Scooting higher to straddle her abdomen, he dragged her the rest of the way under cover.
Pulling a fur robe under her chin, Jeff touched lips and whispered, “Goodnight, Helwin.”
Shuffling through several inches of snow, he made a beeline for his own lean-to. Tucked into sleeping furs, he gathered warmth.
“Oh, damn, this feels good!”
Jeff fell asleep as snow continued to fall with the large flakes of early winter.
Helwin awoke to the muffled quiet of a snow-covered land. Her fur cocoon was comfortably warm and the headache was gone. She drifted in and out of sleep for a period before responding to the nagging call of duty. Propping herself up on her elbows, Helwin freed a foot from the furs and kicked open the flap of leather that closed her lean-to. The dim light revealed her pants and other clothing folded in a neat pile.
“Jeffrey undressed me. I remember that.” She also remembered the feeling of his hands on her breasts. Helwin hurriedly pushed the memory aside. “He is my captain and friend. Were matters otherwise perhaps I would come to know his body and deeper spirit, but they are not.” Helwin felt envious of Magda and made a face. “Why couldn’t he have come to my village instead of hers?”
Gingerly picking up a spare pair of pants that were merely damp rather than soaking wet, she began dressing. Emerging from the lean-to Helwin noted that the snow had stopped, leaving at least six inches. A few troopers were up and about trying to find live embers in soggy fire pits. Lean-to’s sagged with their load of snow, and some were visible only as mounds. The sky was an even slate gray, although giving promise of thinning as a breeze from the north moved in.
She waded over to a renewed fire to soak up some heat before setting the day’s activities in motion. That accomplished, Helwin checked up on Jeff. He was still sleeping and had kicked off his furs. Helwin reached inside fully intending to pull them straight, but his skin looked so appealing that she drew her hand down his abdomen.
The warmth and smoothness proved too much. Surrendering to impulse. Helwin moved her hand between his legs. The sensation was more than satisfying and she dallied for a few moments to feel his response. She quickly pulled her hand away when he moved. It was either that or slip into the lean-to with Jeff. His response had been quick and impressive. Covering him up, she hastily walked away.
When Jeff roused himself and hurried to a fire to get some coffee, the camp was bustling with activity under Helwin’s stern eye.
“Time to do it, Lieutenant. Forage and food or it’ll be too late. Another snow like this one, and the grass will be out of reach.”
Locating the wolf packs, he arranged a hunting expedition that included half of the warriors fit to sit a saddle. He set the rest to digging out fodder for the horses. Jeff and Helwin left camp an hour or so later to scout the caravan.
As they departed, hunting parties were leaving on their own mission. Disgruntled troopers stuck with the fodder detail watched them go with wistful looks but got in quite a few telling catcalls before they were out of range. By noon the clouds were breaking up, and the sun showed itself now and again. Patrols were out in force, delaying arrival at the caravan until well into a short afternoon.
The caravan was hitched up and moving slowly. Squads of soldiers were slogging through the snow ahead of the wains to break a path. A Salchek sat his horse to the side near the head of the column. Jeff heard no orders, cursing or other comments that he could assign to the man. A faint cloud of blue-gray smoke seemed to be hanging around his head.
“The guy’s smoking a pipe! Now that is coolness.”
Whistles of encouragement ran up and down the column along with the singing snap of whips. As they watched, a horse slipped and went down. Before teamsters could get it up the horse had thrashed the wain’s harness to ribbons and other horses in the team were bucking madly. The Salchek on horseback never moved. The moment the situation was in hand he reined his horse around. To Jeff’s perception it seemed the man looked directly at him.
******
******
Lingol Bollit felt an itch along the back of his neck that he had come to recognize and respect many years ago.
“So, my impudent friend, you have come to view your handiwork. And right good work it was. Certainly, Heskelit no longer thinks of wolves as no more than large dogs.”
Bollit reined his horse around. He knew exactly where to look and immediately spotted a flash of red.
“And so my worst fears are confirmed. The Tlakish are no myth and bring weapons never recorded.” Bollit lifted his hat and flashed a toothy grin. “Yet let it be noted in histories that follow this debacle that Lingol Bollit did not shrink from his duty.”
************
His first impulse was to dodge out of sight, but when the Salchek lifted his hat and grinned Jeff was so impressed that he did not.
“What class. That guy is a real pro.” Goaded by the Salchek’s panache, Jeff held his hat aloft.
“Captain—the wains!”
Jeff stiffened at the urgency in Helwin’s voice and examined the line of wains. “What is it that alarms you, Lieutenant? I see nothing remarkable.”
“The teams. Look at the teams!”
“Holy shit. Six or eight horses. How could I have missed it? They must be using what’s left of the pack animals.”
Helwin nodded glumly. “Yes sir.”
A premonition of failure swept over Jeff. Rather than have Helwin see it on his face, he retreated down the hill.
“Nothing more is to be gained from viewing the caravan. Whatever devices the Salchek employ to continue, our duty remains clear.”
They entered camp as the sun disappeared, leaving a clear rim of green-blue sky that faded into darker blues and black. Stars flickered into existence between clouds in such numbers that they seemed continuous strips of light.
Warriors bundling the last of the forage into sheaves paused to wave as they entered camp. Others were butchering animals around campfires and joking back and forth as they recalled the day’s hunt. Hunks of meat hissed as they roasted, but larger portions had been set over smoky pits to cure. Having decided to visit camp, the wolves were busy worrying their share of the catch.
Jeff did not break the evening’s spell of good cheer by reminding anyone it would likely be the last. Winter had arrived.
Memories of that evening faded quickly as sortie after sortie was thrown against the caravan. Yet it seemed to Jeff they were no more than a flea biting an elephant. The caravan continued to grind its way north until he came to hate it as a living thing. Although he caught glimpses of the Salchek commander from time to time, they exchanged no more pleasantries. The man sat his horse as if exhausted but seemed indomitable.
The snow was soon reduced to slush as temperatures eased above freezing. More than the snow, hub-deep mud slowed the caravan to a virtual crawl. The Salchek abandoned 100 wains, firing them before flogging the caravan back into motion. With full teams of draft horses, the remaining wains broke free of the mud and moved north at a steady pace.
Covered with freezing mud from the waist down, Jeff watched the process but was so tired he couldn’t muster any emotion. Slithering backwards, he flipped over and tobogganed down the hill on a mud sluice.
More weeks passed, snowstorms became frequent, and the Alemanni continued to whittle away at the caravan’s horses as it crept north. Down to fifty warriors capable of sitting a saddle, Jeff doggedly harried the caravan’s flanks as full winter settled in.
Late one bleak and bitterly cold day in January as the troop silently rode back to camp slumped over in saddles from fatigue, dark clouds raced in from the north. Jeff examined the sky and wearily waved Helwin closer. He had to shout in order to be heard over the wind, which was increasing by the minute.
“This looks bad. We’re going to have to find better cover.”
“Yes, Captain. In the North we would be bringing in extra firewood. Without trees to protect us, the storm will be a total bastard.”
The troop straggled into camp leaning into the wind and matted with hard-driven snow. Jeff had to bellow at the top of his lungs to be heard.
“Let’s do it this way, Helwin. That hill over there has a big drift on the protected side. Have the troops dig out a deep corral for the horses and snow burrows for themselves. Make sure they have food with them.”
Helwin waved rather than try and speak. By the time the corral was ready it was full dark and the wind had picked up to a full-fledged howl, driving stinging sheets of snow horizontally across the ground. Staggering over to where the horses had been closely bunched for warmth, Jeff checked to make sure picket stakes had been driven deep. When he was satisfied, he made his way through the horses until he found Cynic. Looping an arm around Cynic’s neck, Jeff gave him a hug.
“It’s going to be tough, old fellow. I will be close by. If you sense trouble with the others, call me.”
“What can be done to calm them, will be done. In need, I will call.”
Something tugged at his arm and Jeff turned. An indistinct form staggered as a particularly vicious burst of wind shrieked through the corral. Probably Helwin, Jeff decided. He caught her arm.
“Is everyone set? We’re out of time.”
“All is complete, Captain. I have ordered the troops to share burrows for the sake of warmth, and have taken the liberty of digging a burrow for us nearby the horses.”
“Good idea,” Jeff replied with his mouth close to her ear. “Let’s go.”
Taking his hand, Helwin leaned into the wind and pulled him along. Out of the horses’ lee they were forced to their hands and knees. In order to maintain contact, Jeff kept his nose close to Helwin’s boot and a hand on her leg.
About the time he began to worry they were lost, and his nose was really beginning to smart from the cold and getting kicked, she stopped. Finding his arm, she tugged him along into their burrow. When she fixed a hide over the opening, the sudden quiet was both a tremendous relief and a shock.
Helwin directed a stream of sparks onto a candle made of animal fat until it guttered to life. In the feeble light, Jeff noticed that Helwin had lined the burrow with pelts. They helped each other out of clothing that had frozen into slabs and wormed under a pile of furs.
Shivering violently, Jeff snuffed the candle and pulled Helwin into his arms. It wasn’t until he began to warm up that Jeff thought how naturally she seemed to fit. How good her skin felt against his. Sighing with satisfaction, Jeff let a hand play up and down her back. Cupping a buttock, he pulled her hips closer.
When Helwin felt his caress she slipped her hand between their bodies. Feeling Jeff respond to her attentions, deeply reassured by his response, Helwin molded her body to his and basked in the warmth. Within minutes they were asleep in each other’s arms and beyond reach of the blizzard that battered at the door to their burrow.
They had not been awake long when it became clear that this was more than a severe blizzard. The door to their burrow fluttered and jerked so hard that Jeff drove more pegs to hold it in place. When he had it tight again, the piece of leather acted like a drumhead and amplified the wind’s high-pitched shriek.
He had been in some bad storms during his winter trek up north, but nothing like this. Jeff listened with bowed head and knew that death was only inches away. He felt such sympathy for the horses that it was painful. Later that day, Jeff dug his way out in response to Cynic’s call.
“They are most fearful, horse-brother. You must comfort them, or they will surely relinquish the will to live.”
With a line attached to his waist, Jeff fought his way to the corral on hands and knees in the dim grayness that passed for day. Even on all fours he was nearly bowled over. It was hard to breathe in the wind, yet he tried not to because the air was so cold it burned his lungs.
Locating their cache of tightly bundled prairie grass by feel and memory, he hand-fed each horse while petting them. When he was done Jeff spent some time with Cynic. His face and hands were numb and he had to leave after
only a few minutes while he could still crawl. Helwin pulled him the last five yards. Inside the burrow, he shivered so violently that he could hardly get undressed.
Teeth clattering like castanets, he crawled under the blankets, into her arms and against warm skin. She pulled him closer to stop the shivering and their lips met in a soft kiss that led to slow exploration. They slept and awakened, cuddled and fondled one another then slept some more. Time passed without anything to indicate its passage until it was Helwin’s turn to check on the horses.
Each repeated the cycle four times as days passed and they waited for the blizzard to blow itself out. There were times when they believed it would not, and dying of starvation seemed likely. On the third night the wind went insane and ripped the burrow’s closure away on two occasions.
After the second time Jeff double-pegged their last free pelt over the entrance and hurried back to Helwin’s warmth. Huddling close to her neck he felt something wet and discovered they were tears. Quiet tears, for he heard no sound.
Also near the end of his resources, Jeff found her lips to give and receive assurance. Tasting salt and sweetness, he responded in kind when they opened and her tongue sought his. Groaning with long repressed need and the need for hope, he moved a hand between her thighs and sought higher. She opened her thighs and placed his hand where she wanted it.
“Come to me, Jeffrey.”
When the door was ripped off the burrow’s entrance for the third time they could not have cared less. Bodies moving in ageless synchrony, their cries of fulfillment and reaffirmation of life mixed with the shrieking wind.
Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) Page 52