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Authors: Candy Rae

Tags: #fantasy, #war, #dragons, #mindbond, #wolverine, #wolf, #lifebond, #telepathy, #wolves, #battles

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BOOK: Dragons and Destiny
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With a
sympathetic smile at his life-mate, Jilmis stretched out a long arm
and detached a fresh sheet of paper from the bundle on top of
Disal’s desk and began to copy the names of every one of the
vadeln-pairs who were eligible to vote from the roll-book.

The votes would
begin to come in tomorrow.

Jilmis would
remain in command until the new Susa’s arrival at the Stronghold.
He made a mental note to assign a vadeln-pair to take temporary
command of the successful Ryzcka’s Ryzck. This was usually one of
the Ryzckas who had recently retired from active duty but perfectly
able to reassume the responsibility. Jilmis knew just the duo.

Hansel and Inya
were still at the stronghold after handing over command of the
Eighteenth Ryzck the tenday but one before Disal’s death. In fact,
the appointment of the new Ryzcka of the Eighteenth had been
Disal’s final decision before his illness had incapacitated
him.

List complete,
Jilmis stood and entered the private inner rooms of the Susa. A
dull-eyed Ranlya sat there waiting for him.

“It is done?”
she asked.

“Yes,” answered
Jilmis. “How are you coping?”

“I miss him,”
said Ranlya, “I will always miss him. He was my life and I was
his.”

“I know my dear
Ranlya and have you decided?”

“What will I
do? Where to go? I go back to my rtathlians with the ltsctas. Lvei
will go with me.”

Jilmis nodded.
Lvei was Ranlya’s mate, an unpaired Lind from rtath Danei in
northern Vadath.

“We will miss
you.”

Ranlya lifted
sad eyes to the Weaponsmaster. “It is for the best. Many memories
of Disal here.”

“Will you?”

Ranlya nodded.
“When the ltsctas are grown I will go to Disal as is right and
proper, until then I cannot.”

“When do you
leave us?”

“Tonight.”

Jilmis bowed in
affectionate respect and took his leave. Once she had gone he would
arrange for Disal’s personal possessions to be sent to his family.
Disal had never married but there was a sister; Jilmis had met her.
She lived in Argyll. He made another mental note to send a message
via the Express informing her of her brother’s death.

The votes
started to arrive at sun-up next day. As each was passed to him by
Alshya Jilmis noted them down on the list and by mid-morning,
although not all the votes had been received, he and Alshya knew
which pair were to be their new Susa. Neither Jilmis nor Alshya
were displeased.

Ryzcka Julia
and her Lind Alyei of the Twenty-fifth Ryzck were in the lead by
far. A full two thirds of those eligible to vote had chosen
them.

: A popular
and good choice :
Alshya commented.

: Indeed. I was
worried it might be Trendor and Ysnya :

: The Lai
forbid :
replied Alshya with feeling.

: Aye. That
pair are far too much martinets. This is the Vada, not the Garda
:

: Will I tell
them now? :

: No, we must
wait until all votes are in. Ask Inya to tell Hansel to report to
me. The Twenty-fifth’s patrol section is in the sixth ward. They
will need to prepare for their journey though we’ll not tell them
where they are going until the news is official :

Alshya’s eyes
grew distant as she received yet another telepathic message.

: It is Mikel
and Marya of the First. They have chosen Julia and Alyei too :

Jilmis smiled
and made another annotation on his list.

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

AL603 - Hilla,
Rilla and Zilla

 

On the day of
the triplet’s twelfth birthday, the three had a long and thorough
discussion with their brother-in-law Matt Urquhart, Zala’s husband
who had come for a visit to mark the momentous occasion. Zala
hadn’t been able to come as she was pregnant with their third
child.

“What are you
going to do when you grow up?” asked Matt.

Hilla, Rilla
and Zilla looked at each other and grinned.

“Answer Uncle
Matt you three,” commanded their mother in a sharp voice when no
triplet opened a mouth. “Hilla, you’re the eldest, you start.”

“I’m going for
a soldier,” announced Hilla with assurance and determination.

“Infantry or
cavalry?” asked Matt.

“Infantry of
course,” she answered, surprised that he needed to ask. For Hilla,
horses were a transport mechanism.

“Officer or
ranker?”

“Officer Corps
would be best,” was Hilla’s serious reply. She had thought a lot
about her future these last months. “You get better conditions and
better pay, Cousin Angus told me.”

Cousin Angus
was her hero, having recently been gazetted to the 3rd Garda Foot.
He had visited his uncle’s inn his last leave and his talk had
fired the eldest triplet with plans of emulation.

Hilla went on,
“I need to work hard to get not just the Leaving Certificate but
good grades in ‘The Exam’. Soon as I’ve got these I’ll go to
Settlement, Angus says the earlier you begin the better. They’ll
take me at fourteen and that’s only two years away.”

She snuck a
hopeful look at her father who frowned. He thought sixteen young
enough and had made enquiries of his own.

“You’ll go to
the lyceum at Farquharson like Tala,” be said in tones that brooked
no argument. “Tala is clever, she passed the Exam at fourteen but
you’re no genius daughter, work hard, get your grades then we’ll
see.”

“Landor and
Peter are going at fourteen,” Hilla argued.

“Landor and
Peter aren’t planning on becoming officers,” her father returned,
“and are going only for a term as students. They’ll come back, help
on their farms and train with the militia. At sixteen they can join
the Garda full time if that is still what they want. You go to the
lyceum. There’s an officer class there,” he explained to Matt,
“with a syllabus specially designed for aspiring Garda officers.
The Headmaster will take her next term as long as she passes the
Leaving Certificate with adequate grades.”

Hilla meowed in
disappointment. The active type, she didn’t much enjoy bookwork and
this meant she would have to buckle down to real study.

“What about
Rilla?” asked Matt, changing the subject, “still want to work with
horses?”

Rilla
nodded.

“I like
horses.”

“The three
share a pony,” said Zanda, “but he’s really Rilla’s. She cares for
him.”

“And does most
of the riding,” injected the irrepressible Hilla.

“She does the
caring,” said her mother, “I don’t see you up at dawn mucking out
Lightfoot’s stable.”

“I do so,”
argued Hilla.

Sensing that a
fight was in the offing, their father stepped in. Hilla and Rilla
were always bickering. Hilla had a domineering personality. Rilla
was quieter, had a will of her own and was not slow to put her
views across when she saw fit.

“You get up to
help in the stables one day out of ten,” Talan chided. “It’s rare
that Rilla misses one and that only when she’s not well. If I
remember right, the last time it was Zilla who did it. Hush now and
let her speak.”

“Horses don’t
understand days off,” agreed Rilla.

“You could be
an animal healer,” suggested Matt.

“No,” replied
the middle triplet, clever enough to know her limitations. “You
have to be very bright to get into the medical section of the
Animal Guild and I’d have to go to the lyceum with Hilla. Tala was
there, there’s no stables attached to the school. I wouldn’t like
that. I think I’d like to stay here.”

“We’ve tried to
explain,” said Zanda, “she needs something with more prospects than
stable work but she won’t listen.”

“My daughter
can do better than stable hand,” said Talan who was ambitious for
his youngest daughters, an ambition fired by Zala’s excellent
marriage, Tala’s acceptance into the Technician’s Guild and Hilla’s
academic success so far.

“Plenty of time
yet,” said Matt easily. “She’s only twelve.”

“Tala knew what
she wanted to do at nine,” argued Talan. “I think Hilla has always
known. No ambition, that’s Rilla’s problem.”

Matt laughed,
“as I said, plenty of time, my sister went through what my parents
called ‘a pony phase’. She grew out of it … eventually.”

He turned to
the youngest triplet, the pretty little Zilla.

“I don’t want
to become anything,” she said in a quiet voice before Matt had the
chance to ask. “Hilla will be a soldier, Rilla a Stablemaster, me,
I’d hate either of them.”

“Looking for a
handsome husband?” teased Matt.

Zilla flushed
with embarrassment and despite Matt’s extra questions, refused to
say anything more. Matt, tiring of the teasing game, took pity on
her and clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention.

“Time for
presents,” he cried and leant down beside his chair where three
interesting looking parcels were waiting. Grabbing the first he
held it aloft, eyeing the three with mischievous eyes. “Who is this
for I wonder?”

Hilla was
twitching with excitement, eager to be the first to rip open the
wrapping paper, Rilla, less obviously eager but she was one big
thrill. Zilla’s eyes betrayed her own inner joy but she remained
outwardly calm.

Their parents
favoured useful presents whilst Matt and Zala’s when they arrived
each year were always much more frivolous. Their presents were
always different from each other. They had been looking at the
parcels. One was long and thin, shaped like a parasol; the next was
small and soft; the third a box of interesting proportions.

The one Matt
picked up first was the long thin one.

“This,” he
said, “is for Hilla,” and he dropped it into her outstretched arms.
He bent down and picked up the box and beckoned over Zilla who
smiled with pleasure as she wrapped her arms round her parcel and
stepped back to make room for Rilla.

The soft
package he gave to the middle triplet.

“Let’s open
them one at a time,” suggested Rilla.

“Yes,” agreed
Zilla, “you go first Hilla, you’ll never manage to wait.”

Hilla was
nothing loath. She fell to her knees and began to rip open the
paper. Inside, wrapped in a green cloth, was a long object.
Suspecting what the cloth contained, Hilla began to grin with
delight.

It was a sword.
It was a perfect sword, with a pommel, a hilt and everything and it
was just her size, perhaps the blade was a little long but that was
all to the good as she hadn’t stopped growing yet.

“It’s a bit
big,” confirmed Matt, “but they don’t come cheap and I wanted it to
last.”

“This is far
too expensive a present,” protested Zanda.

Matt laughed,
“I can afford it; business has been good these last years.”

Hilla took hold
of the hilt and stood up. She was holding it in a most professional
manner (she had been watching the militia training).

Overcome, Hilla
managed to find the words to thank him.

Zanda was
watching her daughter, a worried frown on her face.

“It’s been
prepared as a practice sword. It can be sharpened later for more
serious work,” Matt continued, seeing her concern, “but perfectly
balanced. Got it from a southern merchant. He assured me its type
is the same as the young boys begin on in Murdoch.”

Zanda felt her
fears easing a little.

“It’s
wonderful. It’s the most wonderful present ever,” exclaimed an
ecstatic Hilla.

“Can I open
mine now?” asked a plaintive Rilla and began to rip at her own
bundle. It jingled as she struggled with the wrappings. The
transfixed Rilla stood looking at what she was holding. It was a
set of silver bridle-bells.

“They’re
beautiful.” She shook them. A merry tinkle was the result. “You
couldn’t have given me anything that I’d love more. I must go
…”

Zanda stopped
Rilla’s incipient descent to the stables with one stern look and
Rilla looked shamefaced as she returned to the fold of her
family.

It was Zilla’s
turn. She opened the box and pulled out five separate bolts of
cloth with matching threads and ribbons. Zilla was good with a
needle, enjoyed making clothes and knew quality when she saw it.
And what colours! There was one of deep green velvet and another of
russet red. Underneath were two bolts of superfine waldathorn
brocade in dark blue and dusky pink, then came the ribbons and
threads and a run of cream lace. At the bottom, wrapped in an end
of muslin she took out a bolt of cream silk, material like gossamer
and worth more than the rest put together. Zilla couldn’t say
anything; she just stared at the riches that lay before her.

“Like it?”
asked Matt.

Zilla
nodded.

“What you going
to make with them?” asked Rilla.

“Dresses,”
breathed Zilla, “for you and me and Hilla.”

Hilla was
shocked and dismayed. Her preferred attire was trews and tunic.
Rilla liked wearing these too but she did like to get dressed up
once in a while.

“Well, perhaps
not Hilla,” said Zilla, considering the matter with a burble of
laughter.

Hilla had the
grace to blush.

“I would love
one,” said Rilla, trying to cover the eldest triplet’s confusion.
“The red is awfully pretty.”

“Not yet,” said
Zilla. “It’s too good to waste, I think I’ll wait until we’re more
grown up. I know, I’ll make your wedding dress out of it.”

“That’ll be a
while away, if ever,” laughed Rilla.

“I’m a patient
person,” Zilla answered with an uncharacteristically mischievous
smile.

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

AL605 - Niaill
and Danal

 

“I’ve been
promoted to Ryzcka of the First Ryzck.”

Thus Danal and
Asya heard the news from Niaill and Taraya as his young brother and
his Lind exploded into his daga that summer morning.

BOOK: Dragons and Destiny
12.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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