Conflict and Courage (38 page)

Pierre turned
to Justin.

“Thank you for
coming to get us,” he said, “if you would pass on my thanks?”

“To the other
skippers?”

Pierre
nodded.

“I’ll do that
and best of luck, must say that you’re not what I expected.”

“You expected a
bunch of ill-mannered convicts?”

“Something like
that,” admitted Justin, “be careful though, remember what I told
you, most of us in Vadath are prepared to accept you but many have
reservations.”

“I’ll
remember,” promised Pierre as he prepared to follow Louis and
Ustinya down the gangplank.

“Do that.”

Predictably,
Jacques pushed past his father to position himself at Ustinya’s
heels and Pierre snaked out a long arm to grab him. He had
recognised the adult Cherry Howard in the crowd, knew Louis was
anxious to see Cherry again and would appreciate a little
privacy.

“Stay beside
me,” he ordered.

Jacques pouted
but eased back beside his father who did not, however, relax his
hold.

Pierre felt
rather diffident about meeting Cherry Howard, he felt a great deal
of responsibility for her father’s death at the deceased Lord
Brentwood’s hands and not knowing how she felt about his arrival in
Vadath did not wish to risk a confrontation. Later, he would speak
to her about her mother. He saw her glance over in his direction as
she welcomed Louis, then Francis McAllister claimed his attention
regarding the little matter of the disembarkation and disposition
of his people.

“If you would
tell them to move up the jetty as fast as they are able; our people
will look after them from there. Have you any sick or wounded
aboard?”

“In the third
boat with the doctors,” answered Pierre, “though there is a wounded
Lind on this boat. We’ve done our best for him; he is a hero. If he
hadn’t managed to warn us the Larg were on their way I dread to
think where we would be now.” Pierre shook his head, lost for
words.

“We would all
be dead,” Michael Wallace supplied the answer, “will I stay here as
well my Lord?”

Pierre looked
at Francis who nodded.

One look at
Michael and Francis identified him as a kindred spirit, a
no-nonsense practical man very like himself.

“If you would
Michael,” said Pierre, “but wouldn’t you prefer to go with Martine
and your boy?”

“It’ll be
easier with the two of us and will reassure those who arrive that
we are both happy to let our families go on ahead. Anyway, I have a
far louder shout than you and the men are used to my ordering them
about. The sooner we can get everyone ashore and settled the sooner
we’ll be debriefed and can get some rest. I am sure that you sir,”
he executed a quick bow in Francis’s direction, “have a great many
questions to ask.”

As this was
exactly what Francis and Asya were thinking, Michael’s offer of
assistance was welcomed with relief.

Michael grinned
at him.

“Right then,”
he bellowed cupping his hands as he turned to the disembarked,
“Let’s be having you. Up the jetty and go with the northerners.
Don’t be afraid, they’ll look after you.”

After this, the
disembarkation was easy. As each smack berthed and the gangways
secured, a stream of men, their women and children in their midst,
began to line up in orderly fashion on the jetty. Single men
brought up the rear of each boat party. One or two of them looked
around as they landed, fingering their swords.

“Tell them they
have nothing to fear,” Francis instructed Michael. “They can keep
their weapons.”

At this, the
men relaxed.

“We are among
friends here,” encouraged Michael, “now move along.”

Soon the
temporary campsite was filled to the brim of thankful and relieved
refugees. Briony and her three plus Martine and young Gerald were
safely in their tent, except for Jacques who was sitting outside
with Jtanya, one thin arm draped over her withers. They were
talking. Jtanya’s tail thumped on the ground, demonstrating to
those who knew the Lind that she was experiencing intense
contentment. Pierre when he saw them doubted very much if Briony
would be able to persuade him to leave the Lind female when it was
time for bed.

“Your son seems
happy enough,” said Francis as they, Michael Wallace following
close after, walked the short way to his and Asya’s larger tent
where the debriefing was to take place.

“You have
children of your own?” queried Pierre.

“We have three
children and nine ltsctas, that’s what the Lind call their young,
in the family. My eldest boy must be about the same age as
yours.”

“The children
will adapt quicker than us adults,” surmised Michael, “do you not
think so my Lord?”

Pierre turned
round. “I don’t think there are any Lords here in the north
Michael,” he said with wry amusement. “Call me Pierre if you will.
From now on I am an ordinary citizen.”

“You’re right
there,” assented Francis with a guffaw. “Our society is completely
different here in Vadath. No King, no need for one.”

“Who rules
then?” asked Michael.

“Both species.
Lind packs are ruled by their elders and we humans have just sort
of fitted in with them. The four packs that have their rtathlians
in Vadath all have humans living with them who help govern their
packs. It works out fairly well. In Argyll though they have an
elected Council and of course the Vada is different again.”

“Vada?”

“Our cavalry.
Asya and I command the Vada. You’ll meet her in a moment, she is
waiting in the tent.”

“Where will we
live?” asked Michael, “with the packs?”

“That is still
to be decided,” answered Francis, “to begin with though, we rather
thought that, once you and your people are rested, we should make
for the stronghold where most of the Vada live and train. The
majority are out on patrol and we have emptied the trainee barracks
to make room. It’ll be a bit crowded but it won’t be for long.
There’s plenty of free land around and we’re always looking for
talented and hardworking craftspeople and farmers.”

“Many of us do
farm,” answered Pierre. “Farming, fishing and forestry is what we
have been doing for the last eight years.”

“Your
regiment?”

“Only around
two hundred now,” interposed Michael. “Most were glad to set aside
their swords for plough and anvil. About a hundred and eighty made
it out with us.”

“How good are
they?” pressed Francis.

“They’ve been
patrolling the borders for the last eight years. They know how to
handle themselves in a fight.”

When they
reached the tent where Asya sat waiting for them, Francis lifted
the flap aside to let Pierre and Michael enter. She had been
listening in to the conversation through her mind link with
Francis.

“Good evening,”
she said, rising to her paws, “and will you and your people fight
with us if what we fear comes to pass?”

“Yes, most
definitely,” exploded Pierre. “They were going to kill us. My men
will fight.”

“All of
them?”

“Wouldn’t
you?”

“Yes, but I am
a Lind. I would give my life for my friends and pack-mates.”

“You have taken
us in and welcomed us. After what has happened in the past, I would
not have been surprised had you refused, but you didn’t and yes, we
will fight.”

Asya nodded
with satisfaction and prepared herself to contact her dam. Larya
and Jim would want to know what was happening.

* * * * *

It was a
long-held desire of the Larg, to hold the fertile northern
continent as their own, with its lush vegetation and abundant
herds. Why should they live in the southern continent where, except
for in the far south, it was predominately desert except for the
areas around the rivers? The north had no desert and unlimited
water. Starvation was rare in the north.

The Largan
wished to gain a permanent pawhold there. They saw the Vada as the
major stumbling block to this, their most cherished aspiration.

When they had
made their initial pact with the convicts from the WCPS
Electra
, this hope had been at its zenith, but their defeat
eight years previously had put paid to it. Now with drought hitting
their home ranges for the second consecutive hot season and with
the passage over the island chain blocked, an attack on Vadath was
their only option.

“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.”

* * * * *

“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.”