by Candy Rae
“In return for his aid in our venture, I agreed with the man Baker that we should perform a small service in return. That service has now been discharged. Now the man Baker must perform his part of the bargain.”
“Service?” queried Bvdmaldr.
“That is not your concern,” censured the Largan. “You are to command the kohorts, destroy our enemies and return with many herd-beasts.”
“Aoalvaldr?” Bvdmaldr’s lips curled with distaste as he uttered his rival’s name. He and Aoalvaldr were archenemies and had been since an early age. Bvdmaldr had been pleased about his disgrace and was most unpleased at his apparent return to favour.
“Aoalvaldr has a special mission. He will do his part then join with you. You must put your enmity aside for a while Bvdmaldr. You are Kohortangan, not Aoalvaldr.”
“I understand and obey my Largan.”
“Good. Now draw closer and we shall discuss the plan in more detail.”
The Largan would have been interested in a conversation Bvdmaldr had with one Cmvldr later that day.
“Don’t get me wrong Cmvldr, I want revenge as much as the next Larg but not at the expense of losing my position by the Largan’s side. I will use Aoalvaldr. If the war does not go as we hope, it is Aoalvaldr our Largan will remember as the one who persuaded him to attack. It is Aoalvaldr he will blame if we fail.”
“He is an excellent commander,” opined Cmvldr.
“Was,” Bvdmaldr corrected him.
“Do you not think his plan will succeed?”
“I believe Aoalvaldr’s thoughts of revenge during his exile have unhinged him. I will lead the kohorts to war but before I do I will make it clear that the task our Largan has set me is a difficult one and that, if asked, I would not have attacked this Vadath of theirs.”
“Be careful Bvdmaldr. Aoalvaldr has the Largan’s ear.”
“For the moment.”
* * * * *
CHAPTER 36 - KINGDOM OF MURDOCH
“Our orders are clear,” said General Ian Karovitz, Commanding Officer of His Most Royal Majesty, King Elliot of Murdoch’s regular army. “We are to land in this area,” he pointed to the map, “secure the beachhead and facilitate the Larg landings. We are also to aid them with the loading of the transports with whatever kura and zarova they manage to capture.”
Colonel Louis Senot likewise bent over the map. “You sure this map is accurate?”
“Absolutely, the information came from a most reliable source. It is one of the few places where our fleet can anchor in safety.”
“Expected resistance?”
“Virtually none. There is a small fishing village but no more than fifty people.”
“The Vada?” asked Colonel Philip Ross,” don’t tell me they will stand by and watch us land unopposed for I won’t believe you.”
“They’ll be waiting,” prophesised Colonel Ian Morgan, commander of the third regiment under General Karovitz’s overall command.
“Not so,” said their General. “One, they are expecting an attack at midsummer. Two, they have no idea of the existence of our forward base thus do not expect an attack from this quarter and consequently, three, their Vada is spread out as usual along the coasts and the Lind remain in their lands. Apart from the duty Vada troop, which, may I remind you gentlemen, numbers forty maximum and has a patrol area miles long, they have no other troops to deny us a beachhead.”
“What is that squiggle there?” asked Louis Senot, pointing to a small oval blob on the map about a half-mile inland.
“That’s a small fort. The settlers started building it a few years ago so they would have some place to take their families if the slavers attacked but even if the people of the village go there it doesn’t matter. The fort is only half-built.”
“Do we take it out?”
“We do not. Lord Regent Baker has expressly forbidden any risk to the regiments. The beachhead is our concern, nothing more. If the Larg wish to waste their time on the fort that is their decision.”
“When do we tell the men?”
The fleet will be at the river mouth the day after tomorrow. We march at first light. I need to get them at the staging area before the main Larg army arrives.”
“I still don’t understand why we have to do this,” said Philip Ross.
“You don’t need to understand. Suffice to say that we have little choice in the matter. That will be all, gentlemen.”
Dismissed, the three colonels saluted and left the command tent.
“I don’t like the feel of this,” offered Louis Senot to the other two. “What possessed our esteemed Lord Regent to agree to this insanity? What good does an attack on the north in support of the Larg do us?”
“Lord Baker retains a certain amount of malice against the Vada. He blames them for the defeat eight years ago,” said Ian Morgan, “that and an irrational hatred of Pierre Duchesne. Even if the man is friendly with the north, there must be a better way of disposing of him, one that does not invite the Larg inside our borders.”
It must be noted that the officers had no idea that Pierre Duchesne had already fled to the northern continent.
“It’s more than that,” continued Ian Morgan, “I fear their Largan puts pressure on him. Our population is ageing and thus decreasing, it’ll be years, generations even before we can deny the Larg with impunity.”
“You think he is being forced into this ‘accommodation’?”
“Philip, I don’t think it, I know it.”
“Is there nothing we can do? At least we could warn Pierre Duchesne.”
“Are you crazy? You’ve got a wife and a young family. Have you a great desire to die before your time and know that your family are to become slaves? You must be aware of what Raoul van Buren is doing trying to build up the population in that breeding compound of his. No, we obey the orders, salvage what we can out of this mess and bide our time. Console yourself with the thought that by aiding the Larg we can at least safeguard our borders.”
Philip Ross subsided.
“The Larg leave us alone only because they need us,” said Louis Senot.
“Have they no sense of honour? The Largan made the treaty, ceded the land to us.”
“I don’t think honour is held in high esteem amongst our erstwhile allies.”
“So we support them, guard them and generally be nice to them?” exclaimed Philip Ross.
“For the moment we must. There is a rumour of sickness in their pack-lands.”
“Their meat herds?”
“I heard that whatever it is, it’s affecting the Larg themselves, but don’t get your hopes up,” Louis Senot continued, “it is a rumour, nothing more.”
* * * * *
CHAPTER 37 - VADATH
Pierre Duchesne and his people had been at the stronghold for over a week and there had been no reaction from Murdoch.
“No slave raids either,” said Francis, “this hasn’t happened before in my memory. As soon as the winter storms are over they are normally here before you can say jumping jezdic.”
“Good job too,” said Wilhelm, “you’ve recalled just about every able-bodied vadeln-pair you can.”
“But I’m not sure what to do next,” pressed Francis. “Jim has me convinced they will attack sooner rather than later but he can’t give me time and place. I’ve got the Ryzcks strung along the southern coast and none of them can hold back a large attacking force on their own. I wish I knew what they are up to. Any ideas Pierre?”
Pierre shrugged. “I was kept isolated by Sam Baker, especially in recent months.”
“Tell me again of your assessment of the Lords.”
“Sam Baker is in charge, supported by Cocteau and van Buren, Gardiner too. Smith has been sidelined, he must be approaching eighty now and Baker assassinated Brentwood a long time ago. Baker has control of the regiments and young King Elliot. He’s got them all tied to him with these betrothals of his.”
“Still think it’s a strange way to form alliances.�
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“Not so strange,” said Laura. “Remember your history lessons as a child? Early Modern Europe was awash with arranged marriages between the royal houses.”
“You know I wasn’t a one for lessons. I was brought up in a large overcrowded city block, a slum really. Nobody bothered much if I attended school or not. Would’ve ended up in prison if I hadn’t been shanghaied by Spacefleet.”
“Like I did,” Pierre said with some amusement.
“Well, yes.”
“I was a member of a gang in my home city in the south of France,” explained Pierre in his turn, “inter-gang warfare. Things got out of hand one night, there was a knife fight and some boys were killed. I admit that I was, shall we say, an eager participant?”
“Might well have been me,” mused Francis, “but no point crying about spilt milk. You’re here now, your families are here and settling in, especially young Jacques as Asya has been at pains to point out. Forget the past Pierre, it’s the future you need to worry about.”
The week had been a revelation for the Susa of the Vada. Francis was finding that he liked and admired the ex-Lord of Duchesne and was beginning to trust him. Pierre’s candid and honest approach and admissions about his past sins and failures had a great deal to do with this change of heart.
“Can you not remember anything else?” pressed Laura. “We need information as to where the Larg kohorts are and more about the regiments than ‘on manoeuvres in Brentwood’.”
Pierre racked his brains.
“I’ve told you all I know.”
“Try telling us what you think.”
He thought back to the Conclave meetings and to what his messengers had told him.
His messengers! Of course! How had he forgotten?
“The last group of men I sent to Fort did not return,” he said at last, “but you know that.”
“Why do you think they did not return?”
“Because Baker was going to attack me?” he hazarded.
“Or because,” suggested Laura, speaking slowly, “because they noticed something unusual and steps were taken to make sure they did not report back.”
“Like what?”
“Regiments arming?” suggested Francis.
“Conscription of the army?” suggested Laura.
“Or,” said Francis with a flash of inspiration. “They noticed that the regiments weren’t where they should have been, that they weren’t in the manoeuvres area, that they were up at the coast where the fleet is. Jim is right. Argyll isn’t the target. We are the target.”
He spun round to Pierre.
“What way did the messengers go to Fort and when?”
“The usual, along the coast then down river by barge. About four weeks ago they left.”
“Past the shipyards?”
“My god, their fleet could be already on their passage north,” exclaimed Wilhelm, quick to realise and understand the implications.
Francis led the way back to his office on the run.
“How big is the pirate fleet?” he yelled at Wilhelm.
“Seventeen long ships at last count,” Wilhelm shouted back, fit as he was, struggling to keep up. The younger man was super fit, the result of his rigorous training schedules.
“How many could they get here, Larg and men?”
“Enough to do a great deal of damage.”
At Afanasei domta, Jim had come to a similar conclusion.
He would have to leave enough of an army to hold back an attack over the islands in case the enemy did come that way, but if he was right in his assumptions and the attack was to be in Vadath, he needed an army south of the stronghold too.
He rose to his feet and looked over to where Larya lay, in well-deserved slumber; she had exhausted herself during the recent mental interchanges with Asya. He decided not to wake her.
He dressed in warm tunic and trews and went out into the cold night to seek out Afanasei.
“They’re not going to attack over the chain,” Jim announced as he entered Afanasei’s daga, “I’ve had word from Asya and this time I asked her for a detailed report of pirate activity over the last three weeks. Did you know that there has only been the one raid?”
Afanasei lifted one sleepy eye towards his friend.
“I am listening,” he growled.
“Fernei says there was only one kohort on Duchesne’s borders, only one.”
“I am aware of that,” said Afanasei with a considerable amount of asperity.
“I keep asking myself. Where are the others?”
“Larg do not attack yet. Their kohorts will not move north for two moons, you know this; go back to bed Jim, we discuss this in morning.”
Afanasei shut his eyes but Jim paid not a whit of attention.
“You know what I think?”
Afanasei pretended not to hear. He was bone tired.
Jim did not budge.
“Sam Baker’s regiments are on manoeuvres in Brentwood and not in their usual training area.”
Afanasei gave it up as a bad job. It was obvious he was to get no more sleep this night. “What do we do then? Wait for their next move?”
“We cannot wait. We know there are no kohorts below the chain; therefore they must be somewhere else. They are going to attack over the water and the fact that the pirates are absent along the eastern seaboard and the islands means they are a part of it.” “Possibly,” assented the sleepy Afanasei.
“More raids, I doubt the Larg leadership will be content with that. Fernei has warned us that their untried need a fight. Aoalvaldr too, his name is being mentioned. Fernei states that he will not have given up in his desire to be Largan. He will need a victory in the north to give him any chance of success, to regain his standing amongst the lead pack.”
“This pure supposition Jim and you know it.”
“What else do we have to go on? One, the pirates are no longer attacking, two, the kohorts are moving, three, the regiments are in Brentwood, four, we know a fleet is being assembled with many barges and transports.”
“Is there a five?”
“Flat bottomed barges, easy and quick to build. The central current is slow and sluggish, the larger galleys especially would find it easy enough to tow them over from the river mouth.”
“Mmm,” growled Afanasei, “they will not wish to tow them east against the current.”
“So they will come straight across to us. Remember, Aoalvaldr hates the Vada above all else, he blames them for his defeat eight years ago.”
Afanasei was wide-awake now.
Jim continued, “we have to assume that Sam Baker knows by now that we have taken Pierre Duchesne and his people in. Also Duchesne’s defection is a challenge to his authority. He will want to prove to any other southerners that an escape north to us is not the answer to their problems. I have to assume that, in exchange for Larg help to destroy Duchesne, Sam Baker has undertaken to support a Larg attack.”
“You cannot leave Argyll undefended,” insisted Afanasei, “you have no proof that they will attack Vadath. The boats might go there.”
“The Lindars have only begun their runs east, we will have time to divert them to the stronghold if need be. The Vada and the four home Lindars cannot hope to defeat a Larg army on their own. At the Battle of the Alliance we had the advantage of high ground. The land south of the stronghold is as flat as a pancake. They’ll swarm ashore.”
“And what may I ask is a pancake?” complained Afanasei, “you humans use such strange words.”
“Later,” promised Jim. “First you must warn all the Susas to put on all speed.”
Jim’s head swivelled round. He had heard a commotion from outside the daga, the sound of an exhausted Lind labouring up the slope to the daga.
It was a messenger vadeln-pair, Piers Rowbottom and his Vlandiya no less and they had been sent to seek out Jim and Larya by the Council of Argyll.
The word passed throughout the Lindars. They stopped in their tracks and turned towards so
uthern Vadath.
* * * * *
Larya ‘shouted’ the telepathed message to Asya that Jim insisted Vadath was the target. He had refused to let her send more details. Distance-telepathy was exhausting, Larya was not young and she would need all her strength in the days to come. Francis was not stupid. He would know what to do.
South of the stronghold Geraldine, Ryzcka of the Fourth Ryzck was also attempting to understand what was happening and what to do about it. Like Jim, she and Jsei were not convinced the Larg were intending to attack the north through their traditional route over the Island chain.
: Because they have in the past is no reason to assume they’ll do the same this time : fretted Geraldine : They know how well the island beachhead is defended. They’d be fools to try there again and nobody to my knowledge has ever claimed the Larg are fools, misguided yes, but never fools :
: Where then? : asked Jsei.
: If not Argyll it will be here at Vadath they will strike and there is only one safe anchorage of any size :
: By boat, we know a fleet is forming and as to where, they hate us and what we stand for more than anything, in their minds we are the cause of their defeat eight years ago :
She smiled, remembering that moment during the battle when she and Jsei found each other.
: David’s Keep : supplied Jsei.
Geraldine thought hard, “to hell with patrolling the entire coastline. I’m going to call in the patrols and set up camp there. I can get the walls strengthened and fill it with food and water. The folk from the village beside the keep, they can go there too, where they’ll be safe.”
“I’ll call in the patrols,” offered Jsei. “What you say makes much sense.”
“If I’m wrong and they land somewhere else?”
“One can only do what one can,” said Jsei philosophically. “I will tell Duguld and Ganya to bring in the fisher folk.”