Conflict and Courage

by Candy Rae

  The stronghold was empty.

  “Aoalvaldr has located neither Lind nor human,” Andrew reported to Carlos. “I am to stay here with you while he hunts them down and brings them back.”

  “He didn’t really say that did he?”

  “Well,” Andrew demurred.

  “No, don’t answer that, or even think it. I’m beginning to have a fair idea what it must be like to be linked to him as you are.”

  “He’s never really absent,” admitted Andrew. “It’s better the further away he is, but when he is close, it’s as if he’s a part of me, an uncomfortable part.”

  “Not an enviable position to be in,” said Carlos with some sympathy.

  “What will you do now?” asked Andrew, greatly emboldened by this show of compassion.

  “We ransack the stronghold,” Carlos answered with a gleam in his eye, “the people won’t have been able to take much with them and mayn’t have had time to hide their valuables. Captives are worth more than gems and baubles of course, slave prices are rising in the markets, but in case Aoalvaldr does what I’m expecting him to do, at least we’ll get something out of it. You will stay with me though, I want to know what is happening out there.”

  “That depends on what Aoalvaldr deigns to tell me.”

  “Even so.”

  Alesei, in hiding amongst the dagas in the woods nearby, passed on word of their arrival.

  Although largely recovered from his adventures in Duchesne, he was as yet unable to run either fast or far.

  Accustomed to hiding in the south during his frequent spying missions for the Avuzdel he was in little danger. Perched on top of a high allst tree, hidden amongst its abundant leaves and branches, he counted the Larg who passed and reported their direction.

  “They’ve found our trail,” shouted Wilhelm to Nell. “We have to move faster. Get the cadets to chivvy them up, encourage the laggards.”

  “How long have we got?”

  “We might make it to the woods before they get to us.”

  “Might? Why don’t your words reassure me?”

  Wilhelm made his decision.

  “I’m going to order those alindback to run ahead,” he said. “Those on foot can’t outrun the Larg, that’s for sure.”

  “I’ll get more of the older children aback,” declared Nell, “squeeze them on somehow. The cadets can take at least another one each. Thank goodness the babies and toddlers are already tied on.”

  “Do that,” agreed Wilhelm. “Brian and Sofiya are already in the woods with those they managed to evacuate from the farmsteads. They’re holed up in that cave complex we discovered in the centre of the trees. Take them there.”

  “You?”

  “I stay, with Afanasei and the unattached. “Jim and the home Lindars should reach the woods by nightfall. “Hurry now. We’ll be all right.”

  He watched them as they left, the cloud of dust churned up by Lind paws dissipating in the strengthening wind and turned to face those that remained.

  “We will make our stand here,” he ordered, “delay the Larg and give the children time to get away.”

  “What are our chances?” asked one.

  “I’d be lying if I told you they were good. There are Larg running towards us, some three hundred.”

  Some of the women began to cry, but the majority did not. Wilhelm saw acceptance on their faces.

  “What do you want us to do?” asked one of the older women.

  “Form a circle,” he answered, “those with weapons on the outside. We, the remaining vadeln-pairs and the Lind, will form up outside your circle; try to keep them off as long as we can. A rescue party is on its way and Mislya has called for them to put on all speed. They have done so. Help is coming.”

  He wished, not for the first time that Pierre Duchesne and his infantry were with them and not marching south to the Keep.

  What Wilhelm did not know was that four miles out from the stronghold, Aoalvaldr had split his force in two. Realising from the tracks that not all who had left the stronghold had fled north to the woods, he decided to lead two hundred warriors south to destroy what he had recognised as the infantry and ordered his deputy to take the remaining one hundred north to kill the fleeing women and children.

  : Vada runs south : Aoalvaldr was told.

  : Mans feet leave trail like regiment mans who came with us :

  : Any tracks north? :

  : Small feet and more than in the south and many track and some Lind :

  : The women and children : Aoalvaldr growled his satisfaction : Kill them :

  Aoalvaldr’s deputy, one Knlvaldr, was off like a shot.

  What Aoalvaldr did not do was explain to Knlvaldr that he wanted everyone killed. Knlvaldr interpreted Aoalvaldr’s order as a licence to kill the women and children he came across so when this hundred reached the place where the adults and the unattached were preparing to make a stand he simply led the other ninety-nine round them and headed north to the woods to which Nell led the young Lind, junior cadets and children.

  Naturally, overloaded as they were, the Larg began to gain on them, as they fled hell for leather towards the woods.

  The unattached, with Wilhelm, Mislya and the other vadeln-pairs who could run, chased after Knlvaldr and his command as hard as they could leaving those adults who remained bewailing the fact that they could do nothing to help.

  The Larg were fast but the Lind who followed were faster. Jim Cranston had once described the Lind as the thoroughbred racehorses of the planet and the Larg the carthorses.

  Wilhelm and Afanasei’s Lind were nipping at the heels of the rearmost Larg as they reached the fringes of the woods but they couldn’t stop them entering.

  Nell and the junior cadets rushed into the trees at full gallop, regardless of branches and damage to the riders.

  Jacques Duchesne and Jtanya were just such a pair, Jtanya burdened by his two little brothers and numerous packages tied to her harness.

  : Must get deeper in : gasped Jtanya as she threaded her way in and out of the trees.

  Jacques spared a glance round. He could hear a lot of growling, howling and human shouting but saw no one else except for a young junior cadet pair, whose names he did not know.

  : Carol and Altei : supplied Jtanya. : They join Vada last moon, she carries boy behind :

  Altei drew closer to Jtanya and the two Lind continued their way inwards. The caves they were heading for were in the centre of the wood; if they could reach them they would certainly be safer than they were now.

  Jacques Duchesne was only eight years old. He now found himself responsible for his two younger brothers whilst being hunted down by the Larg. By rights he should have burst into tears at this point but he did not. Instead he called over to Carol who did look as if she might cry. Despite the six years between them it was Jacques who felt the most grown-up.

  Carol was shaking and terrified almost to incapacitation.

  “This way,” commanded Jacques and he and Jtanya led Carol and Altei to a huge thicket of dugo bush. Once they had forced themselves inside the prickly branches he felt a lot safer, but Jtanya warned him that they couldn’t hang around.

  : Larg howl their kill : she explained : we must get to caves :

  It was at this moment that Carol gave a whimper and slid bonelessly from Altei’s saddle. The young boy who remained turned a white and terrified face towards Jacques.

  Jacques dismounted and stooped over Carol. He shook her, first gently then harder. She didn’t stir. Well, he thought, here was a predicament and no mistake. What was he to do? He was too small to lift her back on to Altei’s back.

  “I will not leave her,” Altei said.

  It was Jtanya who came up with a solution to the problem.

  “Put the boy up on me,” she said. “We go. Carol and Altei will hide here.”

  “The Larg will find them,” protested Jacques, “sniff them out. I have to stay and try to protect them.”

  “No,” said Jt
anya in alarm.

  He could hear the Larg who had evaded Wilhelm and the unattached crashing about the undergrowth, hunting. He managed to get the little boy off Altei’s back, pulling him from the saddle and dragging him towards Jtanya.

  “Get up on Jtanya’s back,” he whispered to the boy and turned to Jtanya, “take them,” he said in a shaky but determined voice, “get them to the caves.”

  Jtanya looked as if she might refuse then licked him on the face with affection and forced herself and her passengers out through the thicket the same way they had come in, the three terrified boys on her back.

  Jacques gulped then bent down over Carol and drew her sword from her scabbard. It was long and very heavy. For good measure he took her knife as well.

  Lind and boy hunkered down inside the thicket.

  “We will stay hidden here,” Jacques whispered. “Maybe they’ll not find us.”

  It was a vain hope.

  The two heard the sound of paws on the forest floor, heard the sound of nearby branches cracking as not one but two heavy bodies approached, sniffing hard. They could hear the low murmur of voices.

  Jacques knew it was the Larg. If he and Altei allowed them inside the thicket they would all be mauled to death.

  Jacques, after a glance at Altei crawled a little way through the branches, trying to find out what their enemies were doing.

  He saw eight paws, very large and hairy paws, then a huge snarling face pushed its way inside the thicket and stared at him.

  The Larg Jacques realised, had very large teeth, saliva dripped from it’s mouth and above them was a set of angry dark eyes.

  He stabbed out with Carol’s knife. There was a surprised yelp and the face vanished. Now we’re for it. He crawled backwards as fast as he could.

  There was only one clear way into the thicket, where the branches were thinner, the way they had come in and the Larg found it, he could see the branches moving and heard the rustling as he pushed towards them.

  He and Altei stood waiting, the latter ready to spring.

  Jacques knew he had to stop the Larg now. He pushed in beside Altei and struck up at the head that emerged with all his might. His aim was true and the rapier split their enemy’s nose down to the nasal bone. Blood spurted out. Altei sprang forward and crushed the Larg’s muzzle in his jaws. Jacques watched mesmerised as the Larg drowned in his own blood.

  The body twitched for what seemed like hours.

  Only then was Jacques noisily and thoroughly sick.

  He heard growls and shouts outside the thicket and the sound of fighting but paid little attention. He had shot his bolt. He could do no more.

  “Anyone in there?”

  “Is Weaponsmaster Wilhelm and Mislya,” gasped Altei in relief. “We are safe.”

  Jacques collapsed.

  When Wilhelm forced himself in to them, clambering over the inert body of the Larg he found Altei standing protectively over the unconscious Carol and one small dishevelled boy, bloody sword in one hand, bloody knife in the other, lying quite still in a little heap.

  * * * * *

  As this was happening, Aoalvaldr was running south, following the tracks of Duchesne and the infantry.

  He caught up with them at sunset.

  He sent Bvdmaldr a short report when he sighted them, one that would have severe repercussions for the Larg during the days that followed.

  : Caught up with stronghold people and will come to you when they dead :

  Bvdmaldr, busy trying to keep his paws on the deck of the storm-bound transport, caught only a few words, stronghold, people and dead.

  He assumed that Aoalvaldr and his three hundred were already on their way to the beachhead and that he had cleared the area of all opposition.

  * * * * *

  “Still want to be a member of the Vada lad?” asked Wilhelm once he had got Jacques and Carol out of the thicket, “now that you’ve seen what war is all about?”

  “More than ever Weaponsmaster,” Jacques gazed at the man, “now I have to don’t you see?”

  The Weaponsmaster looked down at the blood-streaked face of the boy in front of him, standing so straight and tall.

  Wilhelm held long-standing misgivings regarding training youngsters the art of war but now at last he understood.

  “Jtanya and I will be your best pupils ever,” continued Jacques, coming to attention and saluting.

  “I look forward to it,” answered Wilhelm and found that he really meant what he said.

  He was not to know it then, but standing in front of him was his eventual successor.

  * * * * *

  The fate of Knlvaldr’s hundred was a foregone conclusion once Jim, Larya and their little army entered the fray.

  Not only were woodlands the natural habitat of the Lind but the hundred were outnumbered by over thirty-to-one.

  The Larg didn’t stand a chance.

  After it was over Jim listened to the reports with satisfaction and sent a small, armed group to inform the waiting parents and friends that all danger to the children was over.

  Wilhelm rode up to Jim and took the proffered hand in a firm clasp.

  “Glad you made it in time,” was his laconic understatement.

  “Sitrep?” Jim demanded.

  Wilhelm gave it in his usual succinct manner adding his own observations and interpretations, “Alesei tells Mislya the pirates are ransacking the stronghold.” He shrugged that away, homes could be rebuilt and possessions replaced, “they’ll leave soon enough,” he continued, “and I am convinced the stronghold isn’t the Larg’s main objective, more in the nature of a diversion.”

  “I agree, but we can’t leave the people undefended. You think the galleys aren’t much of a threat?”

  Wilhelm reiterated his belief that the galleys would depart as soon as their Captains learned of Aoalvaldr’s failure to capture the people who had fled the stronghold.

  Jim homed in on the name.

  “Aoalvaldr?”

  “Alesei thinks it is him. He’s taken around two hundred of his warriors south. I’m worried about Duchesne and the infantry; if Aoalvaldr finds them they’ll have a desperate fight on their hands.”

  “Nell and Menlei can take command here. I’ll leave her with the junior cadets and the back ryz of pack Ranetei too as insurance; she can escort the inhabitants back to the stronghold when Alesei reports the galleys have departed. They’ll be safe enough here in the woods until then. The rest of us will ride south to the relief of the Keep. That includes the senior cadets here who will be under your direct command. Brian Randall can assist; he’s got a sensible head on his shoulders. I want you and the cadets to be responsible for the security of our rear, not that the Larg are likely to creep up on us unawares. The frontal approach is their style. Aoalvaldr has been planning this revenge of his for years if Fernei is to be believed and I want him stopped, he’s been a thorn on our flesh for far too long.”

  * * * * *

  That Brian was angry because Emily was with the relieving force was an understatement. She had left Alexander with her parents and joined the Holad section with Winston Randall.

  Now she refused point blank to remain with the refugees in the woods despite Brian’s pleas to the contrary.

  “I’m a trained medic,” she insisted, “please try to understand. Winston and the others need me.”

  “Try to keep out of trouble,” Brian said at last when he realised she would not be moved, “there are enough orphans on this world without adding another.”

  Emily promised.

  After a short meal break, Jim and Larya led their command south, thundering past the column of refugees being escorted to the woods who gave them a loud cheer of encouragement.

  They found the tracks of Aoalvaldr and his warriors without any trouble and also those of the infantry. The tracks were converging on each other.

  It was obvious to Jim that the Weaponsmaster had the right of it. He hoped Duchesne could hold on until they could rea
ch him. Two hundred Larg warriors versus a mere three hundred or so infantry caught in the open were not good odds.

  * * * * *

  For Geraldine, the rest of the Fourth Ryzck and the villagers taking precarious refuge in David’s Keep, the waiting was the worst. Long-eyed Ganya had been the first to sight the enemy and she and Duguld were sitting on top of the highest wall watching and reporting at regular intervals.

  : Still only three ships : Ganya reported to Jsei, straining to see through the driving rain. The wind was getting stronger and the rain heavier but still she sat nestled into Duguld, a large rain-cape around them both. It wasn’t much help; they were both soaked through to the skin.

  With feverish haste, the defenders were finishing knocking the jaggy slates into the incipient mud outside the walls. It was backbreaking and miserable work but they did not stop for a rest.

  : Duguld says mist is forming :

  This storm is going to last, decided Geraldine.

  “These early summer squalls spring up from nowhere,” offered Sean Wylie, Captain of the biggest ketch in the village fleet, “usually last two to three days once they really get going and if I’m any judge Ryzcka Geraldine, there’ll be no enemy fleet landing for at least a day, even two. It’s an offshore wind and it’s not likely to veer any time soon.”

  Geraldine made the mistake of telling him she didn’t understand. The man’s detailed and long lecture about wind and tides left her not much the wiser but she did realise that they had been granted at least two day’s grace, perhaps more.

  “The winds are in the wrong direction,” Duguld confirmed.

  The winds whistled round their buildings, setting the tented roof flapping. There was no chance of a hot meal. The wicks in the travelling stoves blew out every time they tried to light one.

  Geraldine wondered if she would ever feel warm again.

  : Francis and Asya will be here by then :

  That night horizontal sleet-rain arrived. The defenders huddled under what shelter they could and waited it out.