Conflict and Courage (34 page)

“I was afraid
you’d say that,” answered Jim with a grimace.

* * * * *

It was
night.

Jim could not
sleep. The feeling of unease was growing, fuelled by Tara’s
words.

Larya lay
awake, listening in to her partner’s thoughts.

It fits, it
fits
, Jim was thinking,
feed Duchesne the false info, our
armies strung along the coastlines of Argyll and then hit us.
Where? And why is Baker doing this? Why now? Why is he helping the
Larg to attack us? Is he that nervous about the Larg? In return for
what?

It came to him
in that instant,
he helps the Larg attack us, it also keeps them
off his back and in return they will get rid of Duchesne
. Tara
was right. Baker knew Duchesne was a friend of the north. He would
use the Larg to clear out Duchesne and any other northern
sympathisers, put a guard on the southern edge of the islands and
root out any Lind in the vicinity … and the main force … where
would it hit? He knew that the Murdochian regiments were in
Brentwood.

Jim sat up and
stared into the blackness.

Where is the
Larg army? Where is it hidden?
An army it was, the kohorts were
mustering, word had come from Maurice and Qenya shortly after Tara
and Kolyei had gone back to their daga. The Lindars had been
warned, those in the far west were already moving east to Argyll to
meet the attack, but had he ordered them to the wrong place?

* * * * *

Louis and
Ustinya were sleeping in the hidden room next to Duchesne’s private
apartments in his castle when Larya’s telepathic ‘shout’ crossed
the water.

What he and
Ustinya heard during the exhausting interchange that followed
shocked them both to the core. Louis got dressed in a hurry. He
must warn Pierre Duchesne.

As it happened,
Lord Pierre Duchesne was not asleep; having refused to attend the
coronation pleading an outbreak of marsh fever in his demesne, he
believed he might have bought some time by sending messengers to
the Lord Regent bearing coronation gifts for young King Elliot and
explaining his absence in more detail. Sam Baker might buy it, at
least Pierre hoped so but he knew he had only put off the day of
reckoning. His days in the south were numbered.

Pierre was
positive that a return missive was on its way to him ‘requesting’
his presence at Court at ‘his convenience’ which Sam Baker really
meant ‘at once or else’.

He heard the
coded knock from the hidden room signifying that Louis was awake
and had something important to tell him. Louis squeezed through the
small gap that linked Pierre’s private lounge with the chamber,
“they think your position’s been compromised,” he began without
preamble.

“Who do?”

“Ustinya has
just received an urgent message from Jim Cranston’s Larya and he
thinks that the information you sent north regarding an impending
attack on Argyll is a subterfuge by Lord Baker. Jim wouldn’t have
called us unless he is convinced and he asks, has anything unusual
been happening here lately?”

“I have a
border patrol overdue. They should have sent a runner in yesterday
but nothing. I wasn’t unduly worried, much could have happened to
delay him.”

“Who’s in
charge of the patrol? He is reliable?”

“Trustworthy
man, been with me from the beginning. I have been sitting here
wondering if I should send some men to investigate.”

“Not a good
idea,” was the categorical reply from Louis.

“Why does Jim
think this? I don’t think Sam Baker was lying. The Larg will attack
the north this midsummer. I saw the maps, troop dispositions.
Baker’s regiments are to assist.”

“The Lind sent
an operative over the island chain last week; an experienced spy,
one of the party that helped Gerry Russell escape. He found few
traces of the Larg. He was most surprised to find that he was
virtually unhindered in his wanderings. If the Larg are intending
an attack over the island chain, there would be many more
gathering. Alesei found no traces of the main kohorts. He met up
with one of our spies who was returning from his mission in the
deep south and he seemed to think that the kohorts have been
ordered up the riverside east of Murdoch, not west. Another has
reported that the regiments are no longer in the original
manoeuvres area but north of it.”

“But that would
mean …?”

“That they are
intending to attack the north somewhere else other than over the
Island chain. What do you know about the fleet they are
assembling?”

“Fleet? What
fleet?”

Louis was
destined not to answer. The door reverberated with a staccato
rapping.

“Michael
Wallace,” announced Pierre with relief, “that you Michael?”

“Yes my Lord, I
need to speak to you.”

“Are you
alone?”

“At this time
of night? Of course I am. Even the guards doze when they think
nobody is watching.”

Pierre undid
the bolt and opened the door enough to allow Michael to slip in.
Michael was the only other person apart from Pierre who knew of
Louis and Ustinya’s presence at the castle.

As Michael had
expected, Louis was seated in one of the two comfy chairs set next
to the roaring fire. Nights were cold and lighting rudimentary at
best. Three sconces of candles were the only other light.

“Evening
Louis,” he said, “where’s that giant beast of yours?”

“She can’t
squeeze through the gap into your room,” grinned Louis. “She’s
listening in though.”

Michael hooked
one of the stools over to the fire with a booted foot and grunted
as he sat down. “Not as young as I was.”

“The patrol?”
asked Pierre with concern.

“Nothing yet my
Lord.”

“Any sign of
the Larg?” asked Louis.

Michael thought
for a moment before he replied in the negative.

“I wonder,”
Louis began, “what they are up to? Where are the kohorts?”

“Some Larg were
sighted last week,” said Pierre.

“Too few, too
few,” answered Michael, “and Pete’s patrol hasn’t turned up yet.
It’s not like him.”

“They could
have had an accident,” Pierre temporised.

“Pete would’ve
sent a runner,” Michael, “but if he’s not back in another day I’m
sending men out to look.”

“No,” said
Pierre. “I’m not going to send any more men out.”

Michael looked
up. This was not like him. Pierre Duchesne was famed throughout the
Kingdom for looking after and caring for those who served him.

“If you say
so.”

It was obvious
to Louis that Michael Wallace didn’t understand but then, he didn’t
know yet about Larya’s warning.

“I’m going to
report it,” decided Louis. “I’m supposed to let Jim know if
anything out of the ordinary happens.” He got to his feet, “and I’d
best get back to Ustinya, she gets lonely stuck in that tiny room
by herself with nothing to do.”

“Coming?” he
asked Pierre, “It might be best if you were beside us when she
contacts Larya. Jim might have some questions. Michael can guard
here.”

Michael’s
answer was to draw his sword and lay it over his knees, his eyes
glued to the door.

“Go on with
you,” he said, “find out what the northerners think about it
all.”

Two hours later
a dazed and stunned Pierre walked back into the room. Michael
regarded his set face with alarm.

“We have to get
out,” Pierre announced to a stunned Michael, “all of us and as soon
as we can.”

* * * * *

Tara was
worried about Peter and Radya.

Her thoughts
also wandered to her other friends. What were they doing? How was
the recall affecting them? In the excitement of returning home and
finding Peter she had not asked.

She knew that
Tina and Daltei were with the Tenth Ryzck but didn’t know where it
had been posted?

It was
presently north of the rtathlians at its duty station in the
mountains led by none other than the ex-convict Richard and Dahlya
and was preparing to move out.

Orders had
arrived.

The Ryzck was
to run south after warning the mining camps that they would be
responsible for their own defence for the time being.

The thirty-five
vadeln-pairs were securing the cabins and freeing the kura to roam
until their return.

In a hurry,
Tina gathered together Eitel’s and her possessions, a change of
uniform, some small things and toilet articles. Daltei and his
fellow Lind were partaking of a meal, the last they would get for a
while unless they came across a stray beast or two on the run to
Afanasei.

She carried her
pack outside and dumped it under Daltei’s armour and harness that
sat on the racks on the outside wall of her and Eitel’s cabin, her
mind in a whirl.

Was it just a
bell ago that everything had turned upside down?

Ryzcka Richard
knew only that they were being recalled.

“Are the Larg
attacking?” asked Satirya’s Grant. As a newly promoted Vadryza he
felt it his business to know. Grant took his duties seriously, too
seriously Tina thought, glad that she wasn’t in his Vadryz as the
individual troops within each Ryzck were called.

“I have not
heard nor has Maronsaya.” Maronsaya and her vadeln Victor were
responsible for the Ryzck’s communications. “She has heard some
faint ‘sendings’ from the west, but nothing clear.”

That was to be
expected this far north. Mountains interfered with telepathic
‘sendings’, no one knew why. The recall had been relayed via
Tarmsei, Susa of pack Afanasei’s Lindar.

“Something’s
up,” Eitel had muttered, “you go get our things together, I’ll see
to Jilya and Daltei.”

Tina busied
herself settling Daltei’s harness on his back, a delicate operation
when travel packs had to be attached to the cinches.

They were
leaving unnecessary possessions behind, Richard having ordered that
they travel as light as possible. A duty posting normally lasted
four months and the vadeln-pairs usually took with them various
leisure items and hobbies, which made life more bearable,
especially in a cold mountain posting such as this one. This time
Eitel’s books and Tina’s woodcarvings would remain, also the heavy,
double-lined, cold weather clothing.

As she readied
Daltei, Tina noted that Sharon, their medic, was in the process of
attaching not one but two large medpacks to Anlei’s harness.

: We’re
riding to war :
she thought with a surge of panic as she
watched Grant inspect armour and weaponry with more than his usual
zeal, adjusting fittings here and there and sending Mark back to
the equipment shed for a replacement chest-guard for Aya.

Daltei was
tense.

The command
came to move out and the thirty-five vadeln-pairs left their base
at a steady lope, one guaranteed to eat up the miles without
expending too much energy. They would reach Afanasei domta in four
days.

* * * * *

Peter and Radya
returned to the Eighth Ryzck.

He was welcomed
with a considerable amount of good-natured banter and teasing about
Tara but the teasing was short-lived.

“We’re on
alert,” his Vadryza informed him.

Peter glanced
over at the fortifications.

“The Garda are
forming up and’ll be here soon,” the man finished.

“Other Ryzcks?”
asked Peter.

“On their way,
those who aren’t already. Quarters will be pretty cramped so best
claim a bed-space before all those with roofs that don’t leak are
gone.”

“I’ll do that,”
promised Peter.

“When you’re
settled, Kim and Slei want to see you. She seems to think that, as
you have come straight from Jim Cranston, you’ll likely know more
about what’s happening than we’re being told.”

“Which is?”

“Muster here
and wait for orders.”

Ryzcka Kim
Douglas was waiting for Peter in her quarters. This being the first
Vada patrol base built, they were sturdy and very extensive. She
was studying a detailed map of the coastline, a worried frown on
her face.

She looked up
as Peter entered.

“Glad to see
you back,” she said and being Kim came straight to the point,
“perhaps you can shed some light on the rumours that are going
around. Are the Larg attacking
here
?”

She stabbed at
the map with her index finger, “orders said to wait and that an
attack is probable in six to eight weeks.”

“I don’t know
much,” began Peter, taking the indicated chair with relief. He was
stiff and sore after his ride.

“You’ve been at
Afanasei. What does Jim say?”

“I was at Holad
Winston,” Peter corrected her, “but I did speak to Jim.”

“And?”

He said that we
will be at war by midsummer. All the intelligence gathered from the
southern continent backs this up. I know we must have someone in
Murdoch otherwise Jim would not be so certain. However, Fernei of
the Avuzdel does not agree with Jim, he thinks sooner than
midsummer, possibly in a few weeks.”

Kim nodded. She
was not surprised.

“Did Jim
confirm that they will be attacking here?” she demanded.

Peter lifted
his hands helplessly. “I think, myself, he doesn’t know. The
kohorts are moving but where? Your guess is as good as mine.”

“The convicts?
Do we know where the regiments are?”

“On manoeuvres
… in Brentwood.”

“Brentwood? Are
you sure? That’s a fair step from the island chain.”