Conflict and Courage (11 page)

“You do seem to
be in a tickle about it,” agreed Jim. “Larya says that Geraldine is
upset?”

“Many that lost
friends and family in the battle are angry. I’ve nothing personally
against the man. I was no angel in my early days, as you well know.
If I hadn’t joined Spacefleet goodness knows I might have ended up
on the
Electra
too. I say this man deserves the chance.”

“He
specifically asked not to be repatriated south did he not? That
should tell us something.”

“True.”

“And he was
with one of the low security risk work-gangs?”

“Yes.”

“Then my advice
to you is to take the man as you find him.”

Robert
Lutterell had not known how to deal with the convict Richard and
the Lind Dahlya’s pairing and the subsequent upset it had caused
amongst the settlers. He had sent the pair off to Vadath with a
great deal of relief, ordering that any other similar duos be
despatched to the stronghold without delay.

“I only wish
they hadn’t chosen this day to arrive,” said Francis.
“Swordsmanship lessons for the junior cadets begin today with
Wilhelm.”

These cadets
were in a ferment of excitement, their Lind in a not much better
state. Some were so excited that they could barely force down any
breakfast, much to the amusement of their elders.

From their
superior position as seniors, these august personages watched their
juniors’ antics with amusement, tinged with hidden glee, their
first lesson had taken place the previous afternoon so they had a
fair idea of what was about to happen. They bit back their grins as
they listened to the juniors making their plans.

“I’m taking the
sword my father gave me,” announced one boy and, not to be outdone,
the rest began to scramble for a weapon of their own, one
enterprising lad going as far as to sneak into the cookhouse and
purloin one of the big kitchen knives, much to the chagrin of the
chief cook. (Incidentally, the lad received three days cookhouse
fatigues as punishment for his misdemeanour and no cadet ever tried
to ‘borrow’ anything even remotely belonging to the cookhouse
again).

Advised of
their plans, Wilhelm Dahlstrom was ready for them and stood
grinning at the entrance to the practice field, a large box at his
side, wherein they were politely requested to deposit their
assorted bits of armour and weaponry.

“All this is
confiscated for the time being,” he announced. “You will be
practising with wooden practice swords until I say you are
ready.”

There was
dismay and disappointment amongst the youngsters as they placed
their ‘weapons’ in the box.

“You will begin
work with these swords,” Wilhelm indicated the untidy pile with a
wave of his right hand, “and it will be many weeks before you are
ready to try with anything more lethal than wood.”

He drove his
point home, picking up the aforementioned father’s sword and
regarding it through narrowed eyes, “such weapons are dangerous.
They are made to kill,” he glanced at the kitchen knife being laid
on top of the pile, chuckled and added, “at least some of them are.
One wrong move and you might well kill your friends with it.”

He stared at
the lads.

“You want
that?”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No Sir,” they
shouted in unison.

“Weaponsmaster
is the correct address.”

“No
Weaponsmaster,” they shouted.

“On these
practice grounds I am in charge of all students, young and old. You
will never disobey me. If you do, I will become your worst
nightmare. Do you understand?”

“Yes
Weaponsmaster,” echoed throughout the field.

When they saw
the Weaponsmaster later putting the adults through their paces, a
group that included Susa Francis, even the most doubtful began to
regard him with awe and not a little apprehension. For a small man
he could certainly make his presence felt. “Fighting is hard,”
Wilhelm continued. “Kill or be killed. I am here to make sure that
you and your Lind have the best chance possible to survive. Now
pick up a practice sword each and form a large circle around
me.”

After an hour’s
practice, Geraldine and Jsei arrived to put them through their
paces with a riding lesson then they had general studies with the
resident stronghold teacher.

By lunchtime,
they were tired, very sore and part of the glory of joining the
Vada had dissipated and there was still the afternoon’s lessons to
go.

* * * * *

Wilhelm
Dahlstrom’s son Eitel was finding time lying heavy on his hands.
When at the farm, he had been kept busy every minute of the
daylight hours, here at the stronghold he had no set chores apart
from helping his mother and attending the statutory lessons. He
watched the junior cadets brush with the authority that was his
father for a while and then went exploring. The boys and girls were
undergoing the most basic stroke-practice and his father had taught
him the moves years before.

He wandered
aimlessly away from the practice field and headed in the general
direction of the river. At the bank he sat down and watched the
ripples of water bubble past. Pilli fish darted around in the
water; he gazed at them for a time but the sun was hot and he began
to feel sleepy, before long Eitel was deep in dreamland.

The Lind female
Jilya couldn’t believe her luck. One of a group of unattached young
adults from green-striped pack Matvei who had arrived some days
previously, on the hunt for a suitable human with whom to pair, she
had not especially noticed Eitel before.

She was looking
for a comfortable spot on which to rest. She had hunted that
morning and needed time to digest her meal, somewhere hidden from
Faddei who kept the unattached busy, at the moment they were
hauling the large tree trunks that were being used to build the
stronghold’s office block and storerooms. Yansei, who had led them
here, hadn’t seen fit to inform them that they would be required to
work, perhaps she thought, trying to be fair, he hadn’t expected it
either.

She had been
kept far too busy to look for a suitable boy. It was difficult to
find any unpaired humans from whom Jilya could ‘hear’ the thoughts
and emotions that would tell her that he was to be her
life-mate.

Yansei had
spied a likely looking girl from one of the farms that were
springing up in the area around the stronghold and had managed to
find the time to speak to her. He had told Jilya that she was ‘the
one’ for him but she was young and would not be allowed to pair
with him until the following summer. Yansei was resigned to the
wait and happy to do so. He had spoken to Asya of his intentions
and the prospective pairing authorised if both parties were of the
same mind when summer arrived.

So, hot and
sticky after her hunt, Jilya decided to rest beside the river a
while before she took a bath in the pool set aside for the Lind.
Eitel was supposed to be on the same errand, his mother Unda having
decided a bath was long overdue and he was not to return home until
clean. He had conveniently forgotten this.

Lost in thought
and not paying attention, Jilya stumbled over him and Eitel woke
with a startled oath, which was not surprising really, considering
the size and bulk of a full-grown Lind stepping on to his
middle.

“Pardon,” she
said in surprised Standard. She, with the other unattached, had
been taking language lessons from Faddei.

The tousled,
and she noticed, very dirty boy stood up in a hurry and faced her
with a shy smile of welcome.

“No matter,”
said Eitel, “I’m not hurt.”

He dusted
himself off and they stood facing each other.

“I’m going
bathing,” Eitel blurted out, “at least that’s what I’m supposed to
be doing.”
Now what made me say that?

They gazed at
each other for a few moments as Jilya considered whether she should
send out a light probe in an effort to find the indefinable link
that would tell her if further interaction might prove
interesting.

Most Lind, when
in their vicinity, could pick up some human emotions but that did
not necessarily mean that they had found what Yansei termed ‘the
one’ they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with. That
special ‘something’ had to be there.

No point in
prevaricating she decided at last.
Either he is or he isn’t.
She was certainly attracted to him. She could tell the lad had not
reached full-growth, but she thought him to be at least twelve
summers old. She did not know that he was the Weaponsmaster’s son
and like his father as a boy, Eitel was small and wiry. He did not
look his fourteen years.

She tried to
insinuate her next words into his mind.

: I am Jilya
:

Eitel’s eyes
opened wide. He looked at her.

“Hello Jilya,”
he said aloud. “I’m Eitel Dahlstrom.”

Jilya stepped
back realising why the boy looked familiar. Like everyone who had
met the Weaponsmaster, Jilya was in awe of both him and Mislya.
What would they think if they knew what was happening? Mislya’s
battle prowess was legendary. Would a matching between her and
Eitel be welcomed? She had been at the stronghold long enough to
know that, although the fully adult vadeln-pairs had their own
dagas, often quite distant from the main complex, young humans were
expected to remain within the confines of the walls. Would Mislya
accept her as part of the family?

“I say,” said
Eitel, plucking up his rapidly disappearing courage, “do you fancy
a swim in the river? I’m sure that would satisfy even mother.”

“That would be
nice,” she answered, her tail beginning to wag.

He looked at
her.

“Do you know,”
he added. “I thought I heard your voice in my head?”

: Yes. You know
what that means? :

Eitel began to
smile as Jilya’s presence enveloped him with a soft cloud of love
and belonging. It was inescapable, indescribable, this feeling. He
opened his arms in welcome.

Jilya loved
this boy from that moment, loved him with an intensity and devotion
that she felt deep within her and knew was fully reciprocated. A
rush of thoughts passed between them as they stood.

Neither of them
got their much-needed bath that sunny afternoon.

Eitel stepped
towards her and wrapped his thin arms round her neck, pressing his
face against her, wishing this moment could last forever. Neither
realised that they had been communing for hours.

They were
interrupted by a man’s voice.

“Eitel. Where
are you? Your mother ...” Wilhelm never completed the sentence.

He saw them
standing there and rocked back on his heels, taking in the
implications of what his eyes were telling him. His awkward, gangly
middle son had paired with a Lind.

There was a
chuckle in his mind. Mislya, aware as always, had grasped the
situation at the same time, even though she was resting in the sun
some distance away.

Wilhelm walked
towards them and Eitel and Jilya emerged from their mental sharing
with apprehension.

Wilhelm didn’t
say a thing. He grinned at his son as he absently patted Jilya’s
neck. Mislya telepathed her own congratulations to her fellow Lind
who received and accepted them with stunned pleasure. There had
been no need to worry about Mislya and Wilhelm’s reaction at
all.

“Well son,”
Wilhelm said, “what I am going to say to your mother I don’t
know.”

“Won’t she be
pleased for me Father? It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“Always is a
long time Eitel but I am pleased and proud. Your mother will take
some time to accept it, she does not want any of her children to be
soldiers and soldiers is what the Vada needs.”

“I’m almost
grown-up,” he protested.

“You will
always be a child to her; it’s in the nature of mothers, no matter
how old you are. You are now a cadet and must live in the barracks
with the others, but our cabin is close by. You and Mislya will be
more than welcome to visit, duties permitting.” He added, “I will
explain to your mother. Take your time. We will see you both at
supper.”

He gave his son
a quick hug then moved away, deliberating just how he would break
the news to Unda.

: Life gets
more interesting each day :
‘sent’ Mislya to Wilhelm.

: It will
certainly be a challenge :
he returned
: he is my son, which
in itself creates its own problems :

: You will
treat him the same as you do the other cadets :
she said, as
usual interpreting what was bothering her partner.

: I have no
favourites on the practice field :
he agreed.

* * * * *

Brian, Eitel in
tow, showed him the timetable in the common room next day.

“What’s that?”
asked Eitel, pointing one stubby and dirty finger at one of the
squares that contained the subjects. “It just says EQ.”

Many and varied
were the suggestions from those spending their free time in the
room.

“Equine?”

“Don’t be
silly, as far as I know there are only six horses on the planet and
they came with the
Electra
,” said Emily, looking up from the
book she was reading.

This was news
to many and Emily was hoarse by the time she had told them the
story about the desperate escape from the Fort the previous summer
and of the two girls who had managed, against all odds, to get
themselves and the six mares to the north. She knew only part of
the tale and, as there were many questions she could not answer, in
desperation she said, “ask Jsei, he was there, at least at the
end.”

“I will,”
promised Duguld. “I loved working with the horses on our ship and
would be glad of the chance to see some again.”