Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (60 page)

“Yup,”
Carl said with an enthusiastic nod, “had the same reaction when I came in this
morning to send Rogelf off to bed. Getting that lung inflated and removing the
source of infection played a big part, but the antibiotic clinched the whole
deal. I’ve got to find time to isolate the antibiotic from that mold!”

They
sat around and chatted until Ostfel fell asleep, then went in search of
something to eat. A nearby inn looked clean and bustled with a noisy lunch
crowd. All the tables were taken, but the atmosphere was so upbeat they decided
to wait. Most of the customers were gone by the time they finished. A good
share of the racket left with them, allowing Zimma to relate her trip to
Borstel.

“Other
than finding a way through the mountains, we encountered few serious
difficulties. The soldiers Rengeld sent with us prevented attack and made the
whole trip possible. If one of them had not been familiar with the Skarpa Mountains
and guided us to a low pass we would never have found our way.

“We
traveled to Trunstad first. The merchants were quite enthusiastic. When Belstan
had traded what he could, we went to Hochberg.” Zimma laughed as she remembered
the visit. “Hochberg merchants were most anxious to join in trade when they
discovered Trunstad’s enthusiasm. Belstan was quite gleeful over the whole
affair. I believe the merchants were relieved when we departed.”

“I
can just see him,” Carl chortled. “What a trader!”

“It
was certainly an education for me,” Zimma replied with wry amusement.

“Good
trip back?”

“Without
difficulty, Jeffrey. Belstan was worried about the passes becoming closed with
snow so we left earlier than planned. While many of the merchants we spoke with
talked of forming a caravan and journeying to Rugen, Belstan advised caution
until we return west. It would not serve our purposes to have a caravan from
either of those cities sacked outside our gates.”

Mention
of the Salchek sobered them, and it was Jeff’s turn to relate events. When he
finished, they sat in silence trying to come to terms with what was marching
north.

Rugen
sweltered in August heat, and the air was sticky with moisture from a recent
thunderstorm. On the plus side, rain had flushed sewage channels cleansing the
smell of fecal material from the city.

Jeff
and Carl were only distantly aware of the welcome change as they followed a
messenger sent by Rengeld. A scout had returned. They were barely seated in a
room at headquarters when the scout was given the go ahead to report.

The
redoubtable Harko jittered nervously in front of so much brass. “Sir, me an old
Taget sneaked out the night you folks left and sorta scrunched down to keep a
eye on them buggers like ya wanted. Taget, he tooked the big bunch which was
hit by you. Me, I hunkered down to watch the sojers out east a bit.”

Momentarily
forgetting his august company, Harko laughed and slapped his leg. “Well, sir,
them sojers was stirred up right good. The wagons was still burnin’, and the
packhorses was nowhere to be seen.”

Jeff
asked, “What of the cavalry?”

“Sir,
them wolves and you done a fine job. A real mess o’ them horse sojers was piled
up in a heap fit only fer buryin’. Looking off a piece, I could see a couple
hunnerd town folk heading home east. Old Taget, he seen the same where he was.
Them wagons you fired was burnt to the ground, sir. Taget, he counted only
eighty er so fit to be used.”

The
story came out bit by bit. A semblance of order had not been restored until a
full day after the attack. From what Harko reported, it appeared that a
contingent of mounted troops eventually headed south toward Khorgan. What was
left of the smaller force from Astholf joined with the main army and the
combined force resumed its march north.

“Old
Taget, he stayed behind to track them buggers and sent me in to report, sir,
but not ‘til we follered fer a coup’la days. Taget says to tell you he figgers
they’s pushing them foot sojers so hard that a good lot of ‘em ain’t never gone
to make it this far. Watched quite a few plumb give up and lay down afore I
left to ride back.”

After
dismissing Harko, Rengeld observed, “I believe we may conclude that our mission
was a complete success. That it had certain unforeseen consequences is also
clear. Moving as they are, I estimate the Salchek Army will arrive in no more
than four weeks. On balance, however, I am content with what was accomplished.
The army will be in sad condition by the time it appears, even though that
appearance will be somewhat sooner than previously estimated.”

“The
crops must be harvested at once.”

“Indeed,
Carl, that must be seen to. There is little enough time. All crops must be in
city storehouses no later than three weeks from this date. What remains will be
burned in the fields. Likewise, those who cannot fend for themselves in the
forest must be within the walls in the same time period. Jeffrey, what are your
thoughts on how best to accomplish this task?”

Hoisting
a heavy burlap bag onto his shoulder, Jeff picked up a canvas grip. “You
coming, Jorgenson?”

Carl
appeared from the bedroom lugging saddlebags and another grip plus sleeping bag
and tent.

“Cripes,
Jeff, Cynic is going to kick your ass out of the stable when he sees all this
stuff!”

“Going
to be awhile before I get back to civilization,” Jeff replied, nudging the door
open with a foot. “We don’t have far to go.”

“Where’s
Zimma?”

“At
the warehouse with Rogelf. Wasn’t anymore to be said.”

Carl
eyed Jeff when he drew abreast outside the house. “I guess there does come an
end to good-byes. Sure hope I find a woman like Zimma someday.”

“You
will. This isn’t Earth.”

“Aren’t
you leaving a bit early?”

“Don’t
think so. Rengeld really knows what he’s doing. I’m more worried about those
heathens up north.”

“From
what I’ve heard, that says it all,” Carl said with an appreciative laugh.

“Yep.
Say, listen. Let’s drop this stuff out of Cynic’s sight and feed it to him one
bag at a time.”

“Smart
move.”

The
ploy worked to perfection. Cynic was saddled and loaded before he figured out
what was going on. By then it was too late for active resistance, but he
planted his feet when Jeff tried to lead him out of the stable.

“I
will not be abused in this fashion. This day you will walk.”

“Damn,”
Jeff muttered, “there’s still the burlap bag to go.” He examined the load
already on Cynic’s back. It was far too much.
“Your point is well taken. It
was thoughtless of me. I will prepare a pack animal.”

“Got
you, eh?” Carl chuckled. Balko’s grin was as large as Carl’s.

“Just
give me a hand, wise guy.”

The
packhorses were dismal creatures, but Jeff picked one out and they began
transferring bags. Carl watched Jeff pull the burlap bag from an empty stall.
It certainly did not look like it contained food or clothing.

“Taking
the kitchen sink, Jeffrey?”

Laughing
self-consciously, Jeff lifted the bag to a spot on the pack board. “This bag,
my friend, contains a basic ingredient of life.”

Puzzled
by Jeff’s comment, Carl put his nose close to the bag and sniffed. “Son of a
gun. I agree, and good thinking. Makla beans.”

Tying
off the last line, Jeff returned Carl’s grin. “Call them makla or coffee beans,
but damned if I’m going to leave without enough to get by. Belstan promised to
ship a bigger supply before our playmates show up. I figure it won’t take many
weeks to hook everyone at that camp.”

“You
got that right,” Carl chuckled, and saddled Sam to accompany Jeff part of the
way. There was an issue that had to be resolved. They had exited the north gate
when the matter was settled.

“Okay,
then, we’re agreed,” Carl said. “We use the pipe bombs only if they’ll make the
difference in saving the city. If it appears the Salchek may gain or breach
Rugen’s walls, I will not hesitate to use them.”

“That’s
about as close as we can come to a livable compromise.”

Stopping
on the hill above Rugen to make their farewells, Jeff arrived at another
decision he had been struggling with for some hours.

“Got
something I want you to have.” He removed the Colt and holster from his belt
and passed it to Carl. “Put it to good use, buddy.” Jeff handed him a leather
pouch filled with spare ammunition. “The city has to survive, and this may make
a little more of the difference.” Jeff gazed across the valley. “If those
bastards make it into the city, would you look after Zimma for me?”

“Be
assured I will do that.”

They
clasped hands and Carl turned Sam back toward Rugen. Jeff clucked to Cynic. The
packhorse rolled her eyes at Balko and waited until the lead rope pulled tight
before she would move.

The
Alemanni encampment was situated two hours ride north on the west side of the
road. With the packhorse acting like an anchor, Jeff figured it would take
three hours if his arm didn’t give out first. There was ample time to consider
his imminent meeting with Gaereth. As he did so, a wide range of emotions
coursed through his mind varying from excitement to a certain degree of anger.

In
spite of what the combined Alarai mind had said, Jeff couldn’t shake the sense
that his life had been manipulated to allow only one outcome and no choice. He
brushed the anger away.

“So
what’s new about that? How much choice did Carl have when he was dumped into
the South March? When does the pursuit of choice become selfishness?” Jeff
growled frustration and directed Cynic to pick up the pace. “I have got to get
some answers! If only Gaereth would have asked!”

Throwing
a scathing comment at the packhorse, Cynic leaned into the task. Jeff was
nearly pulled from the saddle when the packhorse balked. Stopping abruptly,
Cynic decided enough was enough.

“Wolf-brother,
would you be of assistance? This beast must learn its place.”

Balko
was as irritated as Cynic and trotted to the rear
. “I thank you for the
opportunity, horse-brother.”
Balko snapped his jaws shut with a loud clack.
The packhorse gave a jump and nearly ran up Cynic’s fanny.

While
still a good distance from camp, Jeff began to hear something that sounded like
a sack of tin cans clinking together.

“What
on earth could that be?” Another fifteen minutes or so and he suddenly grinned.
“Blacksmiths! A lot of them!”

They
had no more than turned into camp when Jeff pulled Cynic to a halt and stared.

A
large area had been cleared of trees, greatly expanding the original meadow.
Scanning the campground, Jeff noted that individual tribes were bivouacked in
satellite clearings. The central area, about ten or twelve acres in size, was
packed with craft lodges and shoulder-to-shoulder with hurrying Alemanni.
Gaereth had given a number to Jeff, but the reality took his breath away.

A
thick haze of wood smoke from campfires hung over the compound, lending a tangy
smell to the air. Jeff breathed deeply and listened to the racket of numerous
smithies hard at work. The longer he watched camp activity, the more solemn he
began to feel.

“God
save me. I’m responsible for all of this. I never imagined that trip last
winter would pay off in such a big way. These folks keep their promises.” Jeff
pursed his lip and nodded. “You’ve started something; you’ve called them here.
Either you follow through or all this, all the death, has been for nothing.” He
nodded again, but emphatically. “There’s no making sense of it. Now it’s a
matter of doing.”

Jeff
guided Cynic through the warren of lodges and throngs of warriors. Excitement
permeated the air. There was laughter, shouting back and forth between groups,
and many voices were raised in song. It was a time of war, a time to gather
honor.

Craft
lodges were jammed with customers, especially the breweries, and they passed
one smithy that appeared to be hosting a workshop. A number of leather-aproned
men and women with massive shoulders and deep chests were peering into the
forge and seemed to be debating some aspect of the trade.

The
meeting hall was located near the camp’s center, and Jeff guided Cynic in that
direction. A vast humming sound pierced the background noise. Jerking his head
around, Jeff caught a brief glimpse of a flight of arrows arching high on their
way down range. He suddenly noticed that Balko had disappeared.

“Wolf-brother!
Return to me at once! These warriors are not familiar with you and may inflict
harm!”

A
wave front of terrified exclamations worked its way in his direction, then
Balko came shooting around a lodge grinning ear to ear.

“They
did not have time to do so, wolf-brother!”