Conflict and Courage (4 page)

“Yes,” admitted
Saya, representative of a small pack that had not participated in
the battle, “we heard have many more survived their battle wounds
than in times past.”

“And,” added
Mariya, becoming angry at the continuing signs of doubt, “the
birthings, almost none die, if human is there to help.”

“How?” asked
the doubters.

“They do
operation,” answered Larnei, stumbling over the strange word. “Cut
open and take ltsctas out and bind the mother up again. Call it
“caesarsection”.

“All but one
mother has survived this and she was very weak when reached help.
Her young lived,” added Mariya.

“How do we meet
with Holad humans?” asked Saya, interested in spite of her
misgivings.

“Not all
vadeln-pair are fighters,” answered Larnei. “Many train to heal.
Will take time to train enough so that every rtath has humans to
tend to our sickness, but it will happen. Susyc Jim and Larya have
promised, also a human called Winston. He has set up Holad domta
and it is open to all human and Lind who wish learn.”

“You can help,”
pressed Mariya, “send young Holad from your rtath to learn
there.”

They were
coming round. She could sense it.

She stood up a
little straighter. “Humans are here to stay,” she told them in a
strident voice, “we must work with them. You must be with me.”

The assembled
looked at her with respect then they lowered their heads and
genuflected agreement in the traditional manner.

“One final
thing,” she said. “More vadeln-pair needed. All rtath will send out
seekers to find suitable human. Send word to your domtas. This is a
command from the Gtrathlin. Immediate obedience is required.”

It was a
measure of Mariya’s success and the respect they all felt for her
that not one of them objected.

Within days
small groups of unattached Lind were on their way east intent on
finding the right human with whom to life-bond.

* * * * *

Tara stood
watching Janice as Brian settled himself on Sofiya’s back. They
were the only cadet duo going with Francis and Asya and the
remainder of the Vada, the other cadets would not leave for another
few weeks when Jim and Larya would escort them south, Larya having
expressed a wish to see the stronghold for herself.

Beside Tara
stood Brian’s three little sisters, Violet, Lucy and Juliet,
wide-eyed at what was happening around them and upset at the
departure of their brother. Violet, the elder of the three,
appeared to be the most affected. With a valiant effort she was
managing to keep her tears under control. She had told Brian
earnestly the previous evening that she intended to join him before
she was much older, a sentiment that Brian cautioned her to keep to
herself, lest the thought of losing yet another child to the Vada
unhinged their mother completely.

“Don’t forget
to give Louis my love,” Janice said in a shaky voice.

“I won’t
mother,” Brian answered with a jaunty wave, not knowing that Louis
and Ustinya had left for Argyll with Geraldine and Jsei and
correspondingly would not be there to greet them.

“Remember to
give him the socks.”

“Louis is hard
on his socks,” Janice explained to Tara, who nodded, understanding.
It was a difficult thing for any mother to watch first one and then
another of her sons go off to join the army and that was what the
Vada was.

The cavalcade
set out, those staying behind waving until the column was out of
sight before going back to their cabins and dagas.

Tara followed
behind what was left of her foster family. The Randall family would
not be remaining in domta Afanasei for much longer either. Soon
they would be on the move again, to the river-wood where Winston
intended to set up his medical school. It was not far away, a
decision for which Tara was inordinately thankful; she was sick and
tired of moving from one place to another and yearned for a place
she could call home. Perhaps in the new domta they could all settle
down, far away from armies and wars.

She wondered
when she would next see Brian. Kolyei was another Lind who wished
to see the stronghold but she, herself, did not want to visit and
Tara knew that he would not go without her. Perhaps she should ask
him to bespeak Ustinya and ask her to send some images of the
place. At least then she could describe them to Janice and so put
her foster-mother’s mind at rest a bit.

* * * * *

Hidden in the
woods of the country to the east, which was becoming known as
Argyll, Aoalvaldr the Larg watched and brooded on what he saw and
heard.

Unsuspecting
fools! It was time for him to return to the southern continent, his
fact-finding mission at an end and decide how best he could
engineer his revenge.

* * * * *

Seven days west
of the stronghold, Louis and Ustinya abandoned Geraldine, Jsei and
Mislya and headed north on an errand of their own. It was the end
of summer, the downpours that marked the beginning of the changing
of the seasons over. The countryside was lush with vegetative
growth.

As they
journeyed, the three saw signs of colonists spreading inland and
along the coast. Farmsteads were springing up everywhere, the
majority beside the hundreds of rivers and streams that
criss-crossed this part of the continent. The farmers were busy in
their fields. Under planned cultivation, the roots that grew
profusely, even when wild, were yielding far more per acre than the
most optimistic had estimated. There would be plenty for all and
some over come winter, their second cold season on the planet.

Transportation
was still a problem. The intractable jezdic were being broken to
harness but it was a slow process.

Most of the
adults they passed carried a weapon of some sort. It was the law.
The Council of Argyll had decreed that all able-bodied citizens
must learn how to fight. Arthur Knott the blacksmith was still
churning out swords and knives and his goods found a ready market
especially among those souls who were moving away from the more
populous areas around Settlement.

At Settlement
the three saw that the scars of battle were fading, the
grave-mounds grassing over, wild flowers seeding, a promise of
heart-ease for those mourning the loss of families and friends.
They often sighted lone Lind. They were searching.

It took
Geraldine, Mislya and her brother Jsei time to make the journey
through Argyll, a journey taken in a leisurely manner out of
deference to Mislya’s recently healed wounds on her back
hindquarters that still made running difficult. If it had not been
for her hurts would have searched out Wilhelm long before. They
knew that Louis and Ustinya had gone on a private errand on behalf
of Jim and Larya, they would catch up if they could, but Mislya
didn’t expect to see the two until they were all on their way back
home.

As the three
ran, Mislya’s thoughts were about her intended human. She had
noticed Wilhelm during the battle and admired his expertise with
the short sword Robert Lutterell’s infantry had used to such effect
against the Larg kohorts on that fateful day. He had killed many
Larg. What would she do if she couldn’t persuade him to come with
her? Mislya approached the farmstead where Wilhelm Dahlstrom and
his family had staked their claim with a great deal of
trepidation.

”You think this
man will wish to bond?” asked Jsei of his lisya as they halted to
get their breath and tidy up. The Dahlstrom Farm was beyond the
next hill.

“Francis asked
him if he would consider being our Weaponsmaster and he refused,”
agreed Geraldine as she combed and brushed the large female. Mislya
wanted to look her best and Geraldine was combing out the tangles
from her coat with due care for the areas where her skin was still
tender.

“That was
before,” Mislya replied with a confidence she did not feel.

“I don’t think
it’ll be easy,” said Geraldine, “he told Francis he had signed on
with the colony to farm, not to train children to kill.”

“That was
before he met Larg,” was Mislya’s logical reminder. “Vada needs
him. I need him. Many more will die if we not get good
training.”

Geraldine
paused in her ministrations and looked at them both.

“Do you want me
to make the first move?” she asked. “Perhaps the man feels that his
duty is here in Argyll with his family. Robert Lutterell asked him
to help train the militia and he refused that offer as well. Said
he knew as little about infantry formation fighting as Robert
himself. They fight with the short sword and I don’t think he ever
felt comfortable with it.”

“Precisely,”
said Mislya, “is why he must teach Vada.
Our
riders fight
with long sword.”

“We’re asking
him to give up a lot,” persisted Geraldine.

Mislya and Jsei
flicked their tails at her.

“He will
realise that must join with Mislya. It is for the good of his
rtathen. What other choice is there?” countered Jsei.

Geraldine
laughed. “We humans are not as self-sacrificing as you Lind. A
fault, you might think, but we haven’t had the benefit of your
upbringing.”

“We will appeal
to his sense of what is right and true,” said Jsei and turned to
Mislya, “did you sense strong thoughts from this man during
battle?”

“Chaotic, but
yes,” she answered. “This why I say to Asya she must let me go and
find him. Only then will he realise what we ask of him and why we
need him.”

“We’ll give it
our best shot,” decided Geraldine. She stood back and surveyed her
handiwork. “You look beautiful Mislya. How could Wilhelm
resist?”

Mislya eyed her
mischievously as she shook the hairs of her luxurious pelt into
place.

“If you both
ready,” she informed them, “I think we will go now if we want to
arrive before sun falls from sky.”

The three set
out to walk the last mile of their journey.

Wilhelm
Dahlstrom was working in the corral that held his family’s small
herd of kura when his eldest son spied the trio approaching.

It was not
unusual to receive a visit from the duty Lindar, especially during
the first critical setup months of a new farmstead. As well as
patrolling the coasts, the Lindar provided the essential
communications link between the farmers and the Council. In the
months since the battle a pattern of such visits had developed,
most outlying farms receiving a visit every ten days.

What was
unusual about this visit was that there were only two Lind
approaching, an inland patrol numbered at least six, and that one
of the two had a rider aboard.

“Dad, Lind
coming.”

Wilhelm
Dahlstrom looked up and followed his son’s gaze.

“Best let Mum
know we have guests,” was all he said as he resumed his hoeing.
“I’ll bring them in when I have found out what they want.”

His son nodded
and ran off. His father waited, rubbing his temples as he did so.
There was a strange buzzing in his ears that he couldn’t identify
and which was making him jumpy.

His visitors
approached and he squinted at them, the better to see exactly who
they were. At least the rider’s presence meant that they were not
the Larg, he had seen enough of these creatures to last him a
lifetime.

Geraldine and
Jsei walked towards the wiry figure, Mislya following behind.

“Good evening,”
said Geraldine courteously.

Wilhelm
acknowledged the greeting with a nod. Mislya and Jsei nodded in
their turn but did not speak. The former kept her gaze on the
man.

Wilhelm again
felt the buzzing in his head, this time coupled with a weird
feeling of disorientation.

“Wilhelm
Dahlstrom? You may remember me. I fought on the infantry right wing
during the battle,” Geraldine began.

He nodded
again.

“I remember you
all right. Geraldine isn’t it? I heard that you had bonded with a
Lind during the battle. Is this he?” he asked, looking directly at
Jsei. He felt nervous of the other Lind and had decided to avoid
looking at her if he could. There was something challenging about
her stare.

“I am pleased
meet you,” interjected Jsei. “I am vadeln with Geraldine. This is
Mislya.”

Wilhelm
acknowledged this greeting with another short bow and looked at
Geraldine. “What can we do for you? Do you need a bed for the
night? That we can provide; food too.”

“That would be
good,” she answered. “We have come a long way to speak to you.”

“To speak to
me?” he asked, wary.

“We have not
travelled this far for no reason. We wish to ask you again if you
will consider becoming Weaponsmaster of the Vada. We are in great
need of your skills if we are to be able to protect the north.”

As Wilhelm
stepped back in negation, the relentless Geraldine continued, “we
have many youngsters, some not much older than your own children
who will have to fight in the future. They have accepted this task,
but without the proper training their lives will be short
ones.”

The convicts
and the Larg have been defeated,” he protested. “We are safe
now.”

“Larg are ever
a danger. It is their nature,” said Jsei and with careful emphasis,
added, “they will return.”

“How?”
retaliated Wilhelm, “the beachhead is being fortified. By the time
Robert Lutterell has finished with it,
nothing
could get
through these barriers.”

“The prisoners
at Settlement have told us of boatbuilding. From their descriptions
of the keels being laid the boats resemble Viking longships,” said
Geraldine, having picked up this description from one Emily Stanton
whose knowledge about all things historical was second to none.