Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (63 page)

Holding
the child up, she turned from side to side a number of times. She stopped
abruptly and cried out, “Behold our children!”

A
man at the front began to weep with great sobs as he looked on the child. His
emotion was so strong that great tears of love and grief sprang into many other
eyes as warriors remembered. The child became frightened and began to cry.
Unfastening a flap of her tunic, the woman put the child to her breast to
suckle. Her husband enclosed them with a massive arm.

“Our
child! Your child! Our land!” He shook his head. “You do not know me, for my
village lies far to the west. For untold years we have held ourselves aloof
from all congress, deeming our might and valor above such intermingling. I
would have turned on our War Leader had he not shown great wisdom and
restraint. I demanded that he prove his courage in single combat! A man who
would brave full winter to warn us of great peril, and I questioned his
courage! But we have come, and I am humbled. I am humbled! How is it that I
dare speak such a thing?”

Although
he did not move from his corner, Jeff stood up straight and gazed at the man
with a great sense of satisfaction. It was Therkan from Helstor.

“I
dare speak of being humbled,” Therkan continued, “for I would not again stand
alone. I stand here, for I would no longer be separate from my brethren. The
power of this people! The strength of our spirit! We have never known its
like.”
  

“Nor
have I!”

A
woman no longer a youth, and clearly a chieftain, ran up the stairs to the
porch and confronted the couple.

“Coming
from lands to the east we do not know of your village, and regret this is so.”
The chieftain smiled at the young woman. “What is your name?”

“Silfin,
my husband, Therkan.”

“I
am called Farnil. May I share this honor?”

At
Silfin’s nod, Farnil faced the crowd and methodically slipped an arm out of her
leather tunic to expose a breast. Accepting the child from Silfin, she placed
him to her breast and inserted the nipple. Still hungry, he began to suckle
with renewed vigor. No words were necessary, none were offered, the crowd went
wild.

Chieftain
after chieftain hurried to the porch and shouted their support over the uproar
of singing, drums and fifes that swept the arena. Therkan moved from the
limelight to speak with Jeff. Grave yet animated, Therkan inclined his head.

“I
am at your service, as are the people of my village.”

“You
and Silfin will never be forgotten. Your words and actions will be remembered
as the force that molded this people into one. Your service is accepted with
great pleasure.”

“I
am honored, but perhaps there is another service to perform this night.”
Therkan gestured toward the arena. The uproar had not abated in the least. “We
have yet to hear of our enemy, and I fear that this will not occur without
intervention.”

Therkan’s
toothy smile brought a grin to Jeff’s face. “What do you suggest?”

With
a massive shrug, Therkan returned to the limelight where he and other
chieftains bellowed orders to settle down. Jeff used the time to help Gaereth
replace the torches once again before they set the porch on fire.

“Never
seen anything like this, Jeffrey. Never,” Gaereth said in a subdued, reverent
voice.

“They
are a wonderful people,” Jeff replied, sticking the last torch into a sconce.
“Now I’m going to add the other part they really love.”

“Breaking
heads.”

“You
got it, but this time not each others.”

“They’re
getting tired. Better keep it short.”

“Short
as possible, and very sweet.”

Gaereth
withdrew, as did the chieftains, leaving Jeff alone in the renewed circle of
light. He held his arms up for silence.

“This
night you have discovered kinship. This night you have become one people, and I
name you the Alemanni. A name of power that the Salchek invaders will learn to
fear, for they are here. The Iron-shirts are not a people of myth, they are
here! I have fought them! Now listen to the full tale and dream of the part you
will play in that which is to come.”

Jeff
summoned Balko to his side and dropped into the ritual of Telling. Many had not
heard the tale, and those who had would listen to it a hundred times given the
opportunity.

As
he proceeded to the discovery of the Salchek Army moving north, a rumble of anger
swelled in the background. A deathly silence settled as he described the trek
south, their preparations for the attack, and the coming of the wolves. That
proved to be too much. A thundering clash of sound rose from the crowd as they
pounded shields and screamed war cries.

“And
then we smote them, Alemanni. We fell upon them with vengeance and smote them!
Arrogant they were, and lazy in insolence. And we smote them! We fired their
wagons and scattered their horses while they screamed their fear into the
night! They bled and died did the mighty Salchek, and many still are running.
Two hundred we were against their thousands, yet they ran screaming into the
night.

“Soon
they will be here—angry, hungry, lusting for battle. But they will never forget
how we smote them. They are many, mighty and would take all our lands. Listen
well, my brothers and sisters, for on your honor, your valor, this mighty
battle turns. If we fight as Alemanni, victory will be ours. If we fight one
another, we will die in our thousands. We will die, and the Salchek will take
your lands and children, your husbands and wives, fathers and mothers.”

Jeff
waited until the angry rumbling subsided. “Hearken to my words and remember
what has been spoken.” He took a deep breath and cried out, “The Song of Life!
We are one! Let it never be broken!” Holding his arms out in supplication, Jeff
bowed his head.

The
silence lasted only a heartbeat before a thunderous roar broke out on a scale
that set the porch to shivering. Many warriors were weeping anew, but many more
bellowed war cries and pounded spear hafts on shields. It was quite late before
order was established and the beer kegs rolled out.

The
encampment was quiet next morning as mass hangovers were carefully nursed. The
party had set new standards of comparison. Jeff had spent most of the evening
speaking with chieftains in the meeting hall and was spared that agony. Mellia,
Therkan’s mother, had also sought him out, giving Jeff the opportunity to
introduce her to Gurthwin. It had been an evening to remember.

Now,
inside the meeting hall, Jeff took a quiet breakfast with Gaereth. Sipping
coffee, they pondered the effect of the Telling.

“If
that speech of yours last night doesn’t pull these folks together, nothing
will. It was extremely moving, Jeff. Your use of music, and especially the Song
of Life, was inspired.”

“Don’t
know where the idea to use music came from, just glad it did.” He swung a
kettle out from the fireplace with a metal hook. “One thing for sure, though,
Therkan and Silfin made the difference.” Jeff held his mug up. “Need a refill?”

Smiling
reflectively, Gaereth shook his head in response. “Farnil is some kind of
woman.”

Jeff
dipped out enough coffee to keep him going and rejoined Gaereth. “Has it been
many years since you’ve paired up?”

“Am
I that obvious?”

“To
a degree, but considering how few Alarai are left it’s not hard to deduce that
you’ve been on your own for a long time.”

“So
very many years, Jeff.” Gaereth abruptly got up. “Think I will have a splash.”

Let
it go, boyo, Jeff thought. That degree of loneliness should not be exposed. He
set his voice to carry across the room.

“You’re
right about the importance of last night, though. That was my best shot at
getting them to work together. We have to assemble a tribal congress while that
speech is still fresh in their minds and before some squabble breaks out. Have
to put them to work devising a common battle song, unit colors, and so on.”

Gaereth
snapped his fingers and hurried toward the door. “Brought that stuff all this
way then forgot it. Be right back.”

Puzzled
and intrigued, Jeff nursed his coffee until Gaereth returned carrying an old
leather bag. He spread its contents on the table one by one. Enjoying himself
hugely, Gaereth gave a package to Jeff.

Feeling
like it was Christmas, he unwrapped it. Tucked away inside were three small,
fat books. The first one he picked up was labeled, Handbook of Obstetrics and
Gynecology, the second, Handbook of Surgery, the last, Handbook of Orthopedics.

“I
spent some agonizing hours picking out those three, I can tell you. The mass we
can carry during transport is limited if you want to arrive in one piece, yet I
knew how great your need would be for hard medical information.” Gaereth shook
his head ruefully. “You can’t imagine how many libraries and bookstores I
searched, how many war stories I listened to in medical hangouts while deciding
what to bring.”

Turning
one of the volumes over in his hands, Jeff knew he was holding treasure beyond
anything that existed on Aketti—knowledge. The books represented an enormous
endowment.

“Carl
is going to go nuts, you know. Hell, I’m going nuts right now. You could not
have picked better gifts.”

Gaereth
smiled with pleasure at Jeff’s reaction. Leafing through the books, they
discussed the impact such information would have. When he felt the time was
right, Gaereth pushed another package in front of Jeff.

It
was heavy for its size. Jeff was stunned when he saw what was inside.
Speechless, he could only stroke the cool blackness of the holstered Ruger 9mm
automatic and fondle the spare magazines that were with it. He pulled the last
of the paper away to discover four boxes of ammunition and a holster.

Jeff
cleared his throat several times before finding his voice. “Gaereth this is,
this is….”

Unable
to express himself, he lapsed into excited silence. Opening a box of
cartridges, Jeff loaded a magazine and inserted it into the weapon’s butt after
seating the rounds with a few taps on his palm. Leaving the chamber empty, he
slid the weapon into the holster and buckled it on while Gaereth beamed
pleasure.

“I
took a chance on that fourth box of ammunition. I knew you had a revolver with
you but wasn’t sure of its caliber, so I took the middle ground and brought .38
specials. Hope it was a good choice.”

“They’ll
work fine. I left the .357 with Carl back in Rugen—he’ll appreciate a good
reserve. Have to get these to him before things hit the fan.” Jeff noticed an
odd shaped packet he had missed peeking from the paper. He picked it up with a
puzzled expression on his face.

“Now
what could this be?”

“Rare
magic, my boy,” Gaereth retorted with a big wink.

“Son
of a gun,” Jeff breathed when the contents were exposed. “Wow. Some kind of
magic!” He held up a slender black tube. “Ball point pens. This blows me away!”

“The
foundation of society, wouldn’t you say?”

“You
got that right,” Jeff laughed. “How I have wished for even one of these
suckers, and you brought five! This calls for a celebration.”

He
dipped two mugs of beer out of a cask and set one down in front of Gaereth.
Jeff uncapped one of the pens and drew satisfying curlicues on a scrap of
parchment.

“Getting
back to what we were talking about earlier, I want to avoid pitched battles out
in the open where Salchek cavalry and chariots can cut them up. The Alemanni
are at their best fighting in hand-to-hand brawls.”

“Chariots?
That’s a new development since the last invasion. This is not good news.”

“You
got that right. Have to stay clear of them. What I would like to do is move
down by Rugen with about a third of our force some night early on, pound them
good, then retire north as if in retreat. If we can suck them into the woods,
we won’t have to worry about the chariots. Which reminds me—did you hear
anything from our wolf-brothers on your way here?”

Gaereth
grinned. “The chief comedian, you mean?”

“That’s
the one.”

“One
of these days I’m going to get the last word with that wolf,” Gaereth said
under his breath. “Anyway, it seems that pack you ran across way up north has
stirred up a lot of concern. Balthazar thought we might expect three or four
packs to head our way soon.”

“Now
there’s some good news.” Jeff got to his feet. “Let’s find some lunch, then
I’ve got to contact Carl.”

Locating
Carl proved to be more difficult than Jeff had anticipated. There was an
unusual amount of background noise in the city. It took some time to identify
Carl’s thought pattern. Gaereth listened in.

“Carl,
got something you need to look at up here that’s worth a trip. How about
swinging by?”

“Jeff,
my boy, I am up to my ears. Sure it can’t wait?”

“I
think I can say with complete objectivity, that if you don’t come you may never
forgive yourself.”