by Candy Rae
With her free hand she scrabbled for the dagger in her belt, found it and drew it out. She slashed at Yvdr’s throat, the same second as the Kohortangan was pulling his face away to look for another victim. It wasn’t the most dexterous of strokes but it was enough. The knife went in and Lynsey had the satisfaction of seeing Yvdr stagger and a rush of bright blood spurt out. Mortally wounded, he crashed to the ground beside the dying Bernei.
Lynsey lay and let the sounds of battle drift over her, merging her mind with her Bernei’s more fully than she had ever done before and with an acceptance of what was going to happen. This joining of minds was the final one, the unbreakable one, their minds were as one and when Bernei took his last breath so too would she. It was only during these last moments of her life that Lynsey realised the full extent of Bernei’s mind powers. Why, during all their years together he had only shown her a fraction of what he was capable of!
: Understanding comes at the end :
Bernei tried to take another breath and failed. Lynsey closed her eyes.
Tana and Tavei saw them fall.
: Susyc Johan : Tavei ‘sent’ the image of their deaths to Johan and Baltimalya. She carried a shocked Johan forward to take Lynsey’s place.
* * * * *
A steady stream of walking wounded began to make their painful way in the direction of the main Holad Station not long after the battle commenced.
The doctors, medics and nurses dealt with each casualty in turn, smearing smaha on the bites and claw slashes and stitching up the tears. Many wounded, the least hurt, returned to the battle lines as soon as they could, the more seriously hurt remained with the Holad, forming an additional protective ring round the area.
As Hannah worked she worried about what was happening in the battle, how Beth, Xei, Tana and Tavei were making out, Scott too, her brother, fighting in the Garda ranks. What would her parents say if he was to die? She couldn’t help but hear the roars of survival and death. Snarls and howls were predominant but she could also hear the shouts of the Susas and other Commanders as they urged their men, women and Lind to greater efforts. She tried not to think about the more badly hurt who would be lying on the bloody ground, too damaged to drag themselves away. She could do nothing for them now. After the battle was over, the medics would go in and retrieve their bleeding bodies and bring them to the Holad. If the North lost, it would not matter. The Larg would kill them all. The Larg did not succour their wounded. They had no Holad. If a warrior was too badly hurt to survive he was either left to die or one of his battle mates would administer the coup-de-grâce.
It was best not to think about what was happening in the valley.
: We are holding : Kolyei supplied the information as she tied off the last stitch on the exposed back of a young Garda infantrywoman. She would be fine, Hannah decided as she rose to her feet after giving the woman her most reassuring smile. Casualties were ever coming but she had expected that. She gave a half-wave to her brother Andy who was industriously sewing away closing a large gash in the side of a Lind. A Vada Lind she realised as she caught sight of the concerned face of her vadeln as he watched the process.
She could hear his voice pleading with her to hold on, that the hurts would go away, to stay calm, that the smaha would stop the pain.
“Enya, you’re going to be okay.”
: The Larg : an agitated Kolyei informed her : have committed the rest of the kohorts. Baltimalya will send in the horses and other Lindars now :
Hannah listened to the clamour that was the battle. Yes, she could hear the howls of the Larg as the parts of the Northern Army that had been hidden among the trees began their charge.
When word came of the success of Captain Wylie’s mission, it gave heart to the beleaguered northern army.
Brigadier Halland and his ‘Heavies’ came into their own that day. Gone was his reluctance to fight. He was filled with hatred for the Larg. The troopers were shouting, the horses neighing as they lumbered into a trot then a canter and swept over the rise and into battle.
Their flagged lances were long and sharp. Their helmets and breastplates shone. Brigadier Halland ordered the ‘death-charge’.
The Larg were shocked. They had never seen anything this big and menacing and it was heading straight for them! Their ranks quivered but turned to meet the threat.
The Lindars and ‘Lights’ on either side of the ‘Heavies’ charged with the four-hoofed ‘battlewagons’.
The gigantic horses swept through the Larg leaving a swathe of dead and dying behind. They reformed and began to push the kohorts deeper into the valley. The hooves of the battle steeds pounded the Larg to a bloody pulp, the lances and swords of the troopers sliced through their bodies.
* * * * *
On both sides of the valley wave after wave of Larg were still attacking the Militia and the Garda. As during the Battle of the Alliance, the Lind fought side by side with their human allies but the Larg were large and heavy and the Garda and Militia began to struggle to hold the shield-wall.
General Liam Durand went down, crushed beneath the body of one of the enemy and positive that he was about to die.
Then old Harld appeared and proved that his skill with a sword had not lessened with time and advancing years.
“Experience counts for something,” he shouted, “take that you brute,” and his sword descended to cleave apart the Larg’s skull. It sliced in only a few inches away from the front of Liam’s nose. Alya agreed as she finished their enemy off, crushing his muzzle in her jaws. Ignoring the melee around then, the two managed to drag Liam out from under the carcass.
“Bet you’re glad we came now,” Harld shouted.
“Indeed,” answered Liam as he reached for the sword he had dropped and looked around to see what was happening. “Don’t know how long we’ll be able to hold on though.”
“Long enough,” said Harld who had the advantage of being in constant touch through Alya with the communications pivot. “I feel in my old bones that the day will be ours.”
* * * * *
: Every soldier is to stand firm on the valley sides : Baltimalya relayed Johan’s order : Lindars and cavalry push the Larg in, slow and steady does it :
Step by bloody step the ferocious Larg were forced deeper into the valley. For every lindlength achieved, more and more Lind and cavalry were hurt but they kept on pushing until at last the Larg were congregated in the deepest part of the valley floor. They weren’t giving up, they kept on attacking; casualties continued to fill the dressing stations but the pep had gone out of them with the death of Yvdr.
Johan sensed the difference in attitude and came to a rapid decision after weighing up the pros and cons. He could either continue to hold the Larg in the valley or he could let them go. If they remained here they would continue to attack until they were all dead and they would take many a Lind and human with them. To the logical Johan this was unacceptable. He decided to let them go.
On his orders the Lindars and cavalry plugging the Larg inside the valley parted.
The Larg seized their chance.
Those Lind still able to run followed them, making sure that no Larg broke away. The Larg ran, tails between their legs.
So it was that the defeated Larg army returned to struggle over what was left of the Ice Bridge. Most drowned in the ice-cold waters but a few hundred, the strongest, made it.
There were a few isolated incidents but they instigated few fights to the death. It was as if their desire for victory was gone. All they wanted was to go home to lick their wounds, see their elns and ltsctas again.
Johan breathed several deep sighs of relief as the progress of their retreat was reported back to Baltimalya.
It was over.
* * * * *
Battle (4)
The Lament of the Lind began to resound through the valley and beyond.
“No more shalt thee run, hunt and play,
Under the soft warm sun of day.
He who has d
ied, he has gone away,
She who has fallen, she cannot stay.
Midst trees tall,
We mourn thee all.
Midst mountains high,
We for thee 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 cannot stay.
Be still, mine rtathen.”
In one of the tented wards lay two heavily bandaged young women. Their names were Jen and Tiffney. By their sides on the floor lay their Lind, not as heavily bandaged.
Bored with their enforced bed rest they began to talk and found that they had a mutual acquaintance now deceased.
Tiffney told Jen about the time when Jess had helped her run away from home so that it was possible for her to find Qenei. Jen told Tiffney about the time when Jess had arrived at Vada and about her first two years there.
“After that I was posted to my Ryzck,” Jen concluded. “I didn’t see her or Mlei much after that.”
“Did she have any family?” Tiffney enquired.
“There’s some mystery about that,” Jen answered, “they disappeared or something, during that first year, I never enquired. Don’t know why.”
“Strange,” said Tiffney, her eyes fluttering as sleep claimed her.
Jen was also dozing off.
Both Qenei and Trnslei gave each other a knowing look.
* * * * *
Weaponsmaster (3)
“Susyc Lynsey and Bernei are dead and the command is now yours,” announced Ryzcka Jilmis of the Eighteenth Ryzck to Johan.
“You are her chosen second,” agreed Rhian.
“For the battle yes,” he admitted, “but not I think of the Vada. I’m a tactician, not a Susa. Not so very long ago I was a Garda officer. The job must go to some person who knows and understands the Vada far better than I do.”
“Who then?” asked Ryzcka Paul of the Forty-fifth.
“Rhian and Tadei of course,” he answered.
Jilmis and Paul nodded as did the other surviving Ryzckas and the Vadryzkas now in command of their Ryzcks.
“Call it a battlefield promotion,” grinned Johan.
“I’m not ready for this,” Rhian protested.
“Susa Lynsey said exactly the same when she was chosen,” announced Harld, limping towards them.
From behind the gathering pairs Rhian heard Beth give a glad cry when she saw that the old man had survived.
“Go on girl, you’re the best,” Harld called out to Rhian.
She thought for a moment and had a quick interchange of views with her Tadei and decided to accept the command. She turned to Harld, half-annoyed, half-amused, “okay then, Father.”
“Father?” gasped Beth.
“Oh darn and blast it, I didn’t mean to let that out.”
You accept?” pressed Ryzcka Paul.
“Yes I do.”
Now as her predecessors had done Rhian and Tadei would have to deal with what the Lind called the ‘afterbattle’.
* * * * *
These casualty lists are endless, thought Rhian as Philip Ross appeared at her tent doorway with yet another. She had come to dread the Commanders of the different segments of the army arriving at the door-flap of her tent. He handed her the long list of Militia dead and wounded. Rhian glanced at it and tried not to cry out in her dismay.
Peter Littleman and his Lind Sarya headed the list. Tana would be upset. The two of them had been like indulgent uncle and favourite niece.
The Garda too had taken heavy casualties, the ‘Heavies’ especially, a full half of the troopers and their mounts would not be returning to their homes and families. Brigadier Halland had died of his wounds earlier that day. When Hannah had reported his death she had told Rhian that he had died proud of how his charge had shattered the kohorts.
“Do you know where General Durand is?” asked Rhian.
“Burying his sister and Bernei,” answered Philip, “he claimed the honour.”
“It is his right and duty,” answered Rhian mechanically.
“The grave pits are enormous,” said Philip.
“There are many dead,” answered the sad-faced Susa of the Vada and watched as Philip left to go and look for Tana. She had emerged from the battle with superficial wounds and Tavei was unhurt. Beth had not been so lucky though she would live. She would sport a scar down the left side of her face for the rest of her life.
Pen in hand, she began again the process of writing to the relatives of those who would, like Lynsey and Bernei, not be going home.
‘Your son Hansi and his Lind Olya fought with courage and honour in the battle with the Larg. It is, however, my sad duty to inform you that they died of their wounds two days later. The doctors have assured me that they did not suffer …’
Rhian sighed and wished that this was true. The Holad tents were packed full of the suffering and dying.
: I may be a soldier : she informed Tadei : but I hate war :
Later that day Rhian and Tadei had another visitor, the Susa of the Lindar of the Lainei.
“We go now,” he announced.
“Just like that?” queried Rhian with an enquiring smile.
“We say goodbye,” he answered. His eyes were gleaming with what Rhian thought was a glimmer of mischief.
“I didn’t even know your rtath existed a tenday ago,” began Rhian who was afire with curiosity about this mysterious and colourful pack.
“That is how it is,” he answered, again with that wicked gleam.
“Now so many know of your existence they will try to find you,” countered Rhian. “They will want to know. They will search for you.”
“No-one will come looking,” he answered with confidence. “We go now.”
“Thank you for coming,” said Rhian, the words sounding inadequate as she rose from her chair. She executed a low bow. “It was Tadei’s and my honour to meet you and fight with you. I would have liked to get to know you better.”
“Our duty and honour as well Susa Rhian. This is not the time to become better acquainted. Perhaps we will meet again in some distant season.”
He inclined his shaggy head and left, his paws clicking on the wooden floor.
The snowmelt had begun and it had been found necessary to floor the command tents and the Holad’s too. The ground was becoming, as Tana had so accurately put it, “quagmirish in the extreme”.
Rhian turned to Tadei.
: Well, what do you make of that? :
: Don’t ask questions : he advised : all will become clear with time :
* * * * *
Vadrhed (Second Month of Summer) – AL167
Aftermath (1)
“What is it you Vadathians say?” asked Philip, “thank the leay? I’ve heard it many times. What is the leay?”
Tana grinned, “Thank the Lai you mean? It’s a saying, like ‘Larg’s teeth’ or how some of the northern sects will say ‘thank the gods’ or ‘thank the all-highest’ when they’re happy or pleased about something. We say ‘Thank the Lai’.”
“So what is the Lai?” pressed Philip.
Tana considered, “the Lai, well, they are a fable, a myth. You haven’t been here long enough to hear the Lind storytellers. It’s an old, old story, an ancient story and part of their oral histories. I believe Tara Sullivan wrote about it, it’ll be in one of the books in the library at Stronghold.”
“What does it say?”
“I never actually read it, Tavei tells the story well and so I haven’t felt the need but it tells of how, eons ago, fabulous flying creatures called the Lai landed on the planet. I don’t know why they were supposed to have come here, it’s only a fable but the Lind believe they did and that it was the Lai who taught their distant, very distant, ancestors how to talk. It also tells of how Lind and Larg were once a
s one.”
“That I find difficult to believe,” said Philip. “There is no comparison.”
“There may be some truth behind it,” Tana said, “not the Lai of course but there are genetic similarities between Lind and Larg. They can interbreed for one thing. The Avuzdel, some of them at least, claim to have Larg blood in their veins though they are very reticent about speaking of it. Beth believes it is so.”
“Beth, Graham’s daughter?”
Tana nodded. “She and Xei are with the Fifty-first Ryzck and the Avuzdel. If anyone knows the truth behind the rumours it would be her.”
“Does Beth say that Lind and Larg are related?”
“Even she won’t say much but we are close friends and she let a little slip once, before she clammed up and told me not to ask any more questions.”
“And the Lai?”
“A legend, a fable, nothing more. It can’t be true. Fabulous flying creatures! I ask you! Someone would have seen them, stands to reason. The story is a good one though. Next time we visit Tavei’s domta you’ll be coming too and I’ll ask the rtath storyteller to speak it. It’s a firm favourite.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” said Philip. “Now to more important matters, our Lind have gone hunting. They’ll be away for candlemarks so …”
“Bells,” corrected Tana, nestling into his arms, “you’re a northerner now remember?”
“I’m not forgetting,” smiled Philip as he bent his head down towards hers. Their lips touched with an electricity that set his whole body tingling. Tana’s response was everything he desired that it should be.
Philip ‘felt’ the fleeting approbation about what was developing between him and Tana in his mind as Radnya, far away in the hunting grounds became aware of what was happening in Tana’s daga. Then her mind-presence disappeared. Philip knew that she and Tavei would not now return until morning.