Valour and Victory

by Candy Rae

  By now Xavier was lost in his daydream. He was also becoming detached from reality. He was also becoming aroused by the thought of his son marrying young Princess Janet, aged nearly ten.

  Xavier liked his women young. His town house here at Fort contained a number of young love-concubines.

  Xavier he lay back on the comfortable chair and closed his eyes but after a few moments he sat up.

  What am I doing? I am a King! Kings don’t sit on their own thinking about pleasures.

  He rang the bell.

  One of his men entered and bowed. Xavier gave him his instructions. The man grinned as he took in Xavier’s flushed face.

  The guard was one of Xavier’s oldest retainers, he had known him as boy and man. This would not be the first time that Guardsman Melk had been asked to find Xavier a young woman.

  Melk winked at the other guards as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the servants’ quarters where there would be plenty of young serving maids and kitchen wenches.

  The two frightened girls Melk pushed into the room were young and pretty enough, Melk was sure, to please even the self-proclaimed King of South Murdoch. In fact, Melk would have liked to experience their charms for himself. Perhaps there would be the opportunity once Xavier had finished with them.

  He bowed sardonically as he pushed the two quivering maids in Xavier’s direction and left the room.

  His King was not to be disturbed for the next few candle-marks and he, Melk, would make sure he wasn’t. He also took a vicarious pleasure in listening to what was happening behind the door. It looked as if this was going to be one of the good ones.

  He smiled an evil smile at his fellow guards.

  * * * * *

  Zilla

  The frigate, the FS Layra, drew away from the wharf at Port Settlement with the creaking and flapping of hawsers and sails. Every last space above and below decks was filled with the men, women and equipment that formed a large part of the medical arm of the Argyll Garda.

  With them went Assistant Nurse Zilla Talansdochter and her friend Maura.

  The Medical General commanding the doctors, nurses and orderlies had accepted their offer of help as he had the two hundred or so others who had also volunteered. This was the first time ever that the Garda would see action overseas and they were not geared up for such a campaign where they could not rely on local townspeople for help. The five hundred doctors, nurses, medics and orderlies that made up its permanent roll would not be enough and the Medical General knew it. He was expecting a casualty rate of upwards of thirty per cent and that a conservative estimate.

  Zilla, Maura and the others had spent the last twenty days undergoing what the doctors were calling ‘General Zhukov’s Crash Course’ in nursing wounded, a course designed by himself and one which would give them at least the bare minimum of the medical knowledge required.

  This course in practical nursing continued during their sail south to Port Duchesne, augmented by lectures. Lucky Zilla found that she was a good sailor, unlike Maura.

  “Never mind,” Zilla tried to comfort her friend during one of the intermittent periods when Maura managed to get herself on deck. “Doctor Hallam says that you’ll feel better when you reach land.”

  “That will be soon I hope,” Maura groaned. “I never knew a person could feel so ill and still be alive. What have I missed?”

  “Bandaging again and bloods.”

  “How to stem it?”

  “No, we’ve got to be able to check the blood groups. It’s horribly complicated and finicky but it’s got to be done in case of transfusions. The Garda wear metal tags round their necks that tell us what blood group they are. The Vada do too but many of the Militia don’t. If a patient gets the wrong type of blood, they die. I’ve taken notes so you can copy them out when you’re feeling better. You’re not the only one who is unwell, even Doctor Hallam was looking a bit green around the edges when I saw him last.”

  “Anything else?”

  “We’ve been assigned to our medical teams. You’re with me. We’re the lucky ones; we’re with Doctor Hallam himself. I heard in the grapevine that he asked for us specially.”

  “He asked for you,” said Maura with a knowing look. “Funny how two brothers are attracted to two sisters.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Zilla laughed off Maura’s comment.

  “Any idea what section of the army we’ll be sent to?” asked Maura.

  “Neither the Vada nor the Lindars of course, the Holad sees to them. Rumour has it that it will be one of the advance casualty stations of the Garda.”

  “Not the Militia?” asked Maura, disappointed. She had hoped to be sent somewhere near the Dunetown Militia where her sweetheart Joh was.

  “I’m ‘fraid not. I’m not sure which battalion it is but it’ll be the infantry. No point wondering about it, we’ll find out soon enough.”

  “You look very smart Zilla,” said Maura who was beginning to feel better as the fresh air did its work and was beginning to take an interest in her surroundings.

  “Do I?” Zilla gave her new uniform tunic a self-conscious twist. “They issued them just after you fled below. Yours is waiting for you in the store-hold.”

  “It’s rather a bright colour,” said Maura, eyeing the bright orange with horror.

  “Doctor Hallam says it’s to make us easily identifiable on the battlefield, so people know we’re medics.”

  “So when do we get to Port Duchesne?”

  “Early tomorrow morning. We’ve got to be ready to disembark at once, the ship’s got a schedule to keep. I believe she’s taking north those being evacuated.”

  “Evacuated? Why?” asked Maura, “I mean, if they’re evacuating the powers that be must think there is danger. You don’t think we might lose the battle against the Larg do you?”

  “They’re probably being safe rather than sorry. Course we won’t lose. There are thousands of us going south to beat them before they can get to the Island Chain.”

  “I’ve heard some of the officers talking whilst I’ve been lying down trying not to be sick,” said Maura, “the bulkheads are thin and I don’t think its just the Larg that we’ll be facing. There’s something more dangerous out there.”

  “What could possibly be more dangerous than the Larg?”

  Zilla knew about the Dglai. Rilla had told her but she had also promised to keep this knowledge to herself for the time being and if Zilla made a promise she always kept it.

  “There’s something they’re not telling us,” insisted Maura, “something that’s got them scared.”

  “You’re imagining things,” Zilla answered with a forced laugh. “Just keep your mind on the job and stop worrying about something you shouldn’t have overheard.”

  * * * * *

  Rilla

  The Vada Cadets were almost half way across the Island Chain. Weaponsmaster Jilmis, as dusk had begun to fall, had called a halt on one of the larger islands, one with trees big enough to shelter under and a fresh water stream. The stream was more like a rill but it was big enough to let the thirsty cadets of both species slake their thirst and refill their water bottles. The trees had another use; as somewhere they could hang up their damp clothing to dry. The Ryzcks who had preceded them had tied long stands of twilled string to the branches and hadn’t taken them down when they left.

  This was much appreciated by Rilla and the others. She shrugged herself out of her uniform tunic (her oldest one) with a grimace. The fabric wasn’t just damp, it was salty-damp and during the last few bells it had begun to chafe at her skin.

  “Fastia warned me not to put on another tunic in the morning,” Shona informed Rilla as she placed her own beside Rilla’s on the string the two of them had appropriated. “She says that the sea can be quite deep between a couple of the islands we’ll be passing over tomorrow and it would be best to keep them salt-free.”

  Rilla, who had been considering doing exactly that, grimaced again.

&nbs
p; “I feel so sticky,” she complained.

  “You and me both,” agreed Shona with a shake of her black curls, “but she’s right. We don’t know what the laundry arrangements will be like in Duchesne and I certainly don’t want to have to fight in salt-encrusted clothes. I wish I could find somewhere to have a bath.”

  Cadet Charles, who was passing, overheard Shona’s last comment and stopped.

  “Did I hear you ladies mention a bath?” he enquired.

  “Yes,” she answered, “or a swim in any kind of water that’s not sea water.”

  “Wlya’s complaining too,” Charles said, “says her fur is all tangles. I’ve tried brushing but its made little difference.”

  “Wait until her coat is dry and then the salt will brush out,” advised Rilla optimistically, “Zawlei’s grumpy about it too.”

  “Jilmis did say that we’d be stopping at a large island tomorrow night, larger than this,” mentioned Charles, “said that he had heard there was a freshwater lake on it too, not large but large enough.”

  Both girls turned blissful faces in his direction.

  “Oh, I do hope we do stop there,” said Rilla. “Did he really say that Charles? It would be too wonderful for words.”

  “The weather’s so warm we would hardly need any drying either,” added Shona, “and we could wash the salt out of our underclothes. They’re getting all hard and nasty.”

  “I’m sleeping naked,” Charles announced with an arch look at Rilla, who blushed. She and Charles had had a light-hearted fling some months back and Rilla knew that he still retained a certain amount of liking for her company. Unfortunately their respective Lind did not share their attraction.

  Wlya and Zawlei did not like each other and had been relieved when Charles and Rilla’s relationship had come to an amicable close. Charles was now ‘walking out’ (no one knew where that quaint phrase had come from) with Toinette, a Cadet who had joined the Vada about the same time as Rilla and whose Lind, Wlei found Charles’s Wlya very much to his liking.

  Only when both pair-partners found the other pair-partners to their liking could the four think about forming a long-term relationship. It was called saneln.

  Julia and Alyei had not been able to find a vadeln-pair to both their liking. Julia was married to one Verro, who was not vadeln-paired. Alyei himself was mated to a singleton female Lind from one of the home rtaths. Julia and Verro did not have any children but Alyei and his Vanmandya had had a number of ltsctas, three litters to date, who shared the Susa’s quarters at Vada with Julia and Verro.

  There were very few extended ‘lind-human double ‘marriages’’ in the Vada. Rilla knew of half a dozen, the Niaill, Taraya, Nadala, Teriyei saneln sprang to mind immediately. It now looked as if the Charles, Wlya, Toinette, Wlei grouping might become another.

  She smiled at Charles, “enough of your nonsense, you get off to Toinette. I’m sure she’s waiting for you.”

  He nodded and left.

  Shona looked at Rilla with sympathy and Rilla shrugged. “I’ve got over him. I’d rather live without a hundred Charles’s than be without my Zawlei. You know how it is. He really doesn’t like Wlya, says she makes his hackles rise.”

  “Are you going to change right through?” Shona asked.

  “You bet I am,” Rilla answered.

  “Me too,” agreed Shona as she began to divest herself of her wet undergarments while Rilla hunted in her pack for a clean breast band and knickers.

  The second year Cadets had cook-duty that evening and did their best to make a reasonably appetising stew out of the kurka they had brought with them. The end result was, Rilla decided as she munched her way through her share, much nicer than she had expected it to be (this was due to the fact that Weaponsmaster Jilmis, who knew campaign food of old, had approached the novice cooks with the offer of the use of a bag of spices he had had the foresight to bring with him and which the relieved cooks had added to the bubbling cook pots). Even Zawlei pronounced himself desirous of a second helping. He made himself very popular amongst the first year cadets who had been given the unpleasant duty of the washing up when he forgot his manners enough to lick not one but two of the larger cook-pots clean.

  “Wonder how they got the cooking stuff and everything else here,” mused Shona as she wiped her plate clean with the last morsel of bread and popped it into her mouth.

  “Toinette told me that a coastal lugger delivered it days ago, her cousin is a part of its crew. The lugger has what she calls a shallow draft.”

  “It would’ve needed to be,” observed Shona, “the water around most of these islands are not exactly deep.”

  “Which I for one am extremely grateful. I can swim but I’m not that good. I’m dreading tomorrow if what Fastia says is true.”

  “Just hold on to Zawlei’s harness,” advised Shona, “let him pull you along.”

  : I will not let you drown : ‘said’ Zawlei who was lying beside them taking his ease and who had been sleepily listening to their conversation.

  : I might let me! I know you won’t but I can’t stop worrying about it, at least a bit :

  : Don’t. Shush, I am going to sleep now :

  He made himself comfortable in a wallow in the bracken and closed his eyes. Rilla ‘felt’ his mind begin to ease away from hers as he drifted off.

  Shona’s Danei did the same and the two girls sat for a while listening to their gentle snores before seeking their sleepbags.

  The sleepbags were standard issue in the Vada and were very comfortable, being padded on one side and with a pillow arrangement at the head end. Both girls slept well. They woke refreshed and ready for the next day of their journey.

  Rilla experienced a bad moment or two when they all traversed the widest and deepest channel in the middle of the Island Chain but as he had promised, Zawlei did not let her drown, paddling lindfully through the current and emerging into the surf eddying round the rocks with a triumphant bark. This channel had been identified as the most dangerous and two rescue boats had been stationed there by the Argyllian Navy to make sure that nolind was dragged out to sea by the current.

  In fact, none of the cadet duos needed any help, the only one to experience danger was the embarrassed Weaponsmaster who confessed later that he couldn’t swim a stroke and had panicked when a large wave had swept over his head and water had gone up his nostrils and down his throat.

  Instead of laughing at him for this sign of weakness in the Weaponsmaster of all people, the cadets looked at him with new respect for daring to make the journey at all.

  On the big island they found the lake Jilmis had mentioned to Charles. That evening they all splashed around and had fun in the clear water, even Weaponsmaster Jilmis.

  * * * * *

  The staging area Duke William Duchesne’s son had prepared for the Armies of the North covered a huge area. It would have to be, reasoned Rilla looking round, as she and Zawlei rode in with the other cadets.

  The Lindars would start to arrive soon and the remainder of the Vada. When you added the Garda, the Militias and the Horse cavalry and the ducal levies, it made for an very large army and that wasn’t counting all the support troops such as the commissariat and the medics.

  She could see tents being raised at one end of the encampment. The Lind did not need any tents and the Vada carried their own individual bivouacs which the Lind carried attached to their harnesses.

  It was Weaponsmaster Jilmis and his Lind Alshya who led the cadets in, his eyes here, there and everywhere as he assessed the layout of the camp, or dom as the Lind called it, working out where his cadets would be best placed. Somewhere in the middle he decided, near to the large command tents, on hand to take messages between the commanders of the various segments of the army, or at least to those who did not have a vadeln-pair attached to them yet. When Susyc Julia and Alyei arrived the cadet pairs would be allocated to each segment. It made good sense.

  During the Battle of the Alliance in AL 2, Susyc Jim Cranston and
his Larya had instigated the practice and it had worked well. At the Battle of the Gorge in AL 167 Susycs Lynsey and Bernei had used the cadets thus, as the communication links between the Lindars, the Ryzcks and the human soldiery. It was a major part of their training as cadets. All but the very newest and youngest of the cadet vadeln were with the army and knew what would be expected of them.

  Jilmis turned to Fastia.

  “In that field over there.”

  “I’ll get them settled in,” she agreed, “then get them started on marking out the areas where each group is to go when they march in.”

  “Do that. They can do the escorting when they arrive. Arrange it will you?”

  “I thought that was my job anyway,” she quipped, hiding a smile. Weaponsmaster Jilmis was apt to repeat himself at times, especially when he was under strain.

  Fastia began to lead her young charges in the direction of the field Jilmis had indicated. There were some Vada there already, members of the First Ryzck who had been a part of the vanguard into Duchesne.

  Rilla and Zawlei, Shona and Danei at their side, followed at the Vada Weaponsecond’s heels.

  As she and Zawlei staked their claim to a vacant spot of ground and she began divesting Zawlei of the myriad items attached to his harness, Rilla was in a reflective mood, wondering where Hilla, Zilla and Zak were.

  * * * * *

  The Lindar

  Lindar Hanei splashed ashore the evening after the cadets. They were one of the first Lindars to arrive in the south.

  They were met by Cadet Charles and his Lind Wlya who approached Sadei, bowing their heads in greeting.

  “Dedta,” they greeted each other and the conversation continued in Lindish. “If you would come this way? We are your escorts to the dom where our army gathers.”

  “Thank you,” Sadei answered. “Is it far to the dom?”