Conflict and Courage (46 page)

“That’ll hold
him for a bit,” he said.

“We’re not
attacking?”

“Don’t be
stupid man, what kind of a fool do you take me for?” The colonels
sighed with relief.

He looked over
at the Keep and the ridge beyond.

“Bvdmaldr
better finish this off. No Vada were supposed to be here. Their
commander, their Susik or whatever the benighted man’s title is
must have seen through Lord Baker’s subterfuge and taken steps.
They knew that the Larg were not going to attack over the Island
chain and laid their plans accordingly.”

Bvdmaldr had
come to the same conclusion.

Time to finish
them off now, before the Lindars arrived.

The kohorts to
the west had met up with unexpected resistance. Still, he had
managed to strip the land closest to him of the herds. This was no
mean achievement and he had accrued much honour. If he could
destroy the Vada and Lindars on the ridge he could go, tail held
high. One concentrated thrust and he would destroy them. He could
still lead his kohorts home victorious.

Bvdmaldr had by
now realised that Aoalvaldr must have failed in his quest to
destroy the stronghold, but Bvdmaldr had never thought his rival
had any real chance. It had been obvious to him that the Vada and
the home pack Lindars would defend it. Aoalvaldr’s failure would
make his own partial success all the more remarkable and even if
the two kohorts in the west did not return, they were keeping the
Lindars occupied, hunting them down and keeping them away from the
battlefield, leaving him with numerical superiority here.

He did not know
that, as he was preparing to order his kohorts forward for one last
gigantic thrust at the beleaguered northern lines on the ridge, an
army over sixteen Lindars strong was fast approaching the
battlefield.

From the walls
of the Keep, Francis, Ross and the others watched heart in
mouth.

“When do the
Lindars arrive?” was Geraldine’s worried question. “Things don’t
look good. Jim and Larya may still hold the ridge but they are in
dire straights. She was rewrapping a bloody scrap of bandage round
her arm as she spoke.

“Soon,” said
Asya, “they will swing round.”

“What do you
mean?” she demanded.

“The Lindars
will attack from over the ridge,” Asya explained. “Larg will not
expect that.”

“Through the
ranks of Jim and the others?”

“Well, over
actually. Watch.”

The drama
unfolded.

The Larg had
sent a number of warriors to protect their left wing, the kohorts
in combat with those on the ridge were pressing hard.

The defenders
of the Keep watched anxiously.

“Quick,” cried
Asya then, “make as much noise as you can, distract the Larg so
they do not feel the ground shake as the Lindars arrive.”

The noise
emanating from the Keep was indescribable, kettles and drums,
Duguld placed his trumpet to his lips and began blowing it steadily
and then, for no accountable reason, began to play a song whose
origins were lost in time; ‘Oh Come all Ye Faithful’, a
quasi-religious and ancient song that was popular amongst some of
the settlers.

It certainly
made the kohort on guard at the bottom of the path uneasy. They
shifted their paws around and laid back their ears.

* * * * *

The Lindar
ranks stood waiting, the trap ready to be sprung.

Tara and Kolyei
were conscious of the silent and hitherto undetected Lindars
waiting behind them. The Larg had stopped attacking for the moment.
They sensed victory and were getting ready for their final
charge.

For Jim’s plan
to work, they would need to make the Larg believe they were near to
breaking and actually permit them through.

The Lindars
stood in front, the surviving Vada behind them, in two rows, the
most experienced to the fore.

: Middle two
Lindars feign defeat and to break right and left :
Larya
commanded.

Tara took a
deep breath.

: Now :
ordered Jim.

The trap was
sprung.

Before
Bvdmaldr’s astonished eyes, the Lind warriors in the middle of his
enemies rose to their paws, feinted to left and right and he felt
the thunder in the ground beneath his paws.

Bvdmaldr became
even more confused when the Lindar ranks sat down, then lay down.
He barked in surprise as a ryz of Lind appeared on the ridgeline,
then another. He strained his eyes, the better to see and surely
not, there was another behind them!

He ordered his
advancing kohorts forward and with a howl they forced their bodies
uphill, trying to drive a deep wedge into and through their enemies
and they did manage to reach the top of the ridge, their enemies on
either side melting away.

It was then
every being battling for his or her life as the ordered lines on
the ridge and its environs degenerated into a sea of struggling
Lind and Larg, amongst them the vadeln-pairs and the remnants of
Duchesne’s infantry, a small island of men valiantly trying to hold
on to their formation.

The shock hit
Bvdmaldr like a thunderclap.

In a wave of
panic and fear he realised that hundreds of Lind had arrived on the
battlefield. Why had Aoalvaldr not warned him? Surely during his
run south he must have seen some trace of the Lindars? Where was
Aoalvaldr? Why was he not replying to his telepathic callings? The
Lindars were not supposed to be here, logically they couldn’t be
here, but here they were sweeping down, through and over those
fighting it out.

The Lind sensed
the Larg disquiet, sensed their fear, they knew that victory was
theirs for the taking.

* * * * *

Tara felt the
ground shake as the Lindars crested the ridge, leapt over them and
leapt down the other side, the momentum of their charge stopping
the surprised Larg in their tracks.

Tara kept still
as more and more Lind passed over her and Kolyei. She knew that
other Lindars were sweeping round the ridge to attack the wings of
the Larg army.

: Stand
:
came Larya’s shout and what remained of Jim and Larya’s
command readied themselves to charge after the Lindars.

Now the Larg
were on the defensive.

Bvdmaldr had
landed with twelve kohorts, plenty to do the job or so he had
thought.

Now fully
eighteen Lindars were attacking his warriors, not good odds.

He did the
sensible thing and ordered them back to the beachhead to
regroup.

Not all of his
warriors obeyed him.

For a Larg to
retreat was to lose face.

It was better
to die.

Thousands
did.

Cmvldr had been
fighting with his warriors, convinced victory was imminent when
there came the sound of the thundering of many paws; tired the
Lindars may have been with fighting and running their way east, but
they fell on the beleaguered Larg with enthusiasm.

He was amazed
and confused; before he had a chance to react, there was a loud
howl from in front of them and more Lind arrived on the ridge.

First a front
ryz, then a second, then a third and a fourth!

Pressed inwards
by the sheer numbers of the northern armies, the Larg began to find
fighting difficult. They had no space to use their weight and
bulk.

The foremost
Larg lines did not stagger, they simply collapsed, folding in on
themselves as the Lindars drove deep into them. The four home packs
and more reinforcements from the west followed the Lindars of Lind
downhill.

To Cmvldr’s
shame and dismay, his front kohorts took one look at the mass of
Lind attacking and turned tail and fled, causing a tremendous
amount of confusion amongst the supporting kohorts who had received
no orders to retreat.

Any Larg who
retreated without orders accrued much dishonour and a greater
dishonour automatically attached itself to that Larg’s home pack
and here were his most experienced kohorts trying to disengage.

“Stay and
fight,” cried out Cmvldr but they were his last words. A Lind chela
ripped his throat apart and he died.

With Cmvldr
dead there were no orders.

Blood. Pain.
Death.

Screams and
howls of mortal agony.

The Vada Ryzcks
had congregated together under the command of Jim and Larya and
were right in the very middle of the bloody melee.

Wilhelm
Dahlstrom and his youngsters remained on the ridge making sure that
the Holad section with its wounded was protected as Jim had
ordered.

* * * * *

On the ridge
Emily took a deep breath and continued to bandage the injured
infantryman’s arm whilst Ilyei repositioned himself at the
perimeter of the dressing station with other Lind vadelns likewise
unable to follow the Lindars. The more severely injured remained
within the protected oval.

Winston Randall
was in charge with Zhenya of Holad domta Winston and Doctor James
of the Vada. They and the other medics were working flat out to
save as many as they could. The air reeked of Smaha root and blood.
A steady stream of wounded dragged themselves towards the dressing
station, the Lind with their injured riders still strapped to their
backs.

Outside the
defensive oval Wilhelm and Mislya’s cadets were gathered in a tight
knot, Brian and Sofiya amongst them. Twenty-eight had run south to
battle, seventeen remained. The surviving infantry of Pierre
Duchesne had formed up a third of the way downhill, ready to stop
any Larg from breaking through from that direction.

From his
vantage point Brian could see the ebb and flow of the battle lines
as both sides fought for survival.

He glanced at
Wilhelm. The Weaponsmaster sat on Mislya’s back, his eyes ranging
everywhere at once.

The battle was
being fought between Mackie’s Ridge and the coast, a solid seething
mass of Lind and Larg with some vadeln-pairs amongst them. The
Tenth Ryzck and Jim’s vadeln-pairs were there and with them
Wilhelm’s son Eitel and his Jilya but Wilhelm knew he could do
nothing to help them. His responsibility was here, protecting the
wounded and looking after the surviving cadets.

The cadet guard
duos stood restlessly.

Wilhelm calmed
them, “stay together, keep your eyes peeled.”

How the Kranj
of Larg had managed to stay out of sight, as they slunk up the hill
behind the ridge, nobody afterwards could fathom but manage it they
did.

Suddenly, they
were there, all ten of them.

The cadets were
young; they were bone weary.

There was a
shout of alarm.

Brian and
Wilhelm turned their heads.

Sofiya and
Mislya were quicker on the uptake than their humans.

A split second
then they, the Weaponsmaster and Brian Randall were racing to the
rescue.

* * * * *

“Bloody hell,”
cried out Colonel Senot as he watched the emergence of the Lindars
over the ridge through his binoculars. He shouted to his fellow
officers pointing inland with a hand that stayed steady only with a
great deal of effort. Hawk-eyed Colonel Ross watched unbelievingly
as Lindar upon Lindar topped the rise and bounded down into the
fight.

Colonel Morgan
ran over and demanded the binoculars.

“The General is
on his way,” he informed them as he raised them to his eyes, all
but dragging them from Senot’s grasp, “and where did they come
from? Thought Bvdmaldr had scouts out.”

“Not to the
north,” answered Senot in a grim voice, “Karovitz told him he
should but he paid no attention.”

“More fool
he.”

“What do we do
now?”

“We get out of
here as fast as we can get the boats loaded, I’m not hanging
around.”

He thrust the
binos at Senot and charged away, calling out his orders as he
ran.

Colonels Louis
Senot and Philip Ross looked at each other for a moment then they
too began to call for their lieutenants and sergeants.

The beachhead
compound was soon filled with men running around in ordered chaos,
picking up their equipment and forming into ranks, waiting for
their General to give the evacuation order before it was too
late.

Few panicked.
These were regulars, not conscripts. They knew what to do and of
their Larg ‘allies’, few much cared. They were far more concerned
with staying alive.

* * * * *

Jim and Larya,
desperately fighting in the midst of the northern ranks felt the
despair and acceptance of defeat by their enemies as the group of
Larg encircling him visibly shivered. There was a howl from the
rear of the kohorts and then the Larg turned and began to fight
their way downhill.

Jim was
wounded, he felt faint with the pain, he held on to Larya’s
sweat-matted ruff with his left hand as he watched.

Then it
happened, in slow motion. Jim, light headed with loss of blood saw
the wounded Larg raise himself on his haunches and lunge towards
him and Larya. Larya did not sense his approach and, wounded
herself, lacked the mobility to wrench herself and her vadeln out
of reach of the teeth. The jaws snapped shut on Jim’s shoulder as
the huge male Larg put his full weight behind his lunge.

Jim fell to the
ground.

: Jim and
Larya are down :
‘shouted’ Kolyei.

: Dead?
:
gasped Tara.

In the
confusion, the only duo who had seen it happen had been Kolyei and
Tara.

Jim lay still,
to all appearances unconscious if not dead, Larya by his side.

Tara screamed
with desperation as she and Kolyei tried to reach them, Kolyei
throwing himself atop the Larg in a desperate attempt to deflect
the killing bite, Tara stabbing at his exposed neck.