Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (67 page)

“And
life between man and woman perpetually balances on the edge of rejection.”

“That
has been my experience. You never know, day to day. In the end, I have found it
most difficult to retain belief that such love as has been given by Zimma and
Magda would not be measured out in like fashion.”

“Has
their love been measured out?”

“Never.
It is not the nature of either woman. Their love is a wellspring, and their
words those of true sincerity.”

“Just
so. And what do you conclude from this?”

“That
I have just climbed out of a deep hole!” Jeff let his breath out in a big sigh
of relief. “Thank you, Gurthwin. I really needed to hear myself say those
words, true sincerity. Zimma and Magda are wonderful women who live what they
speak. I really want that child to be mine! Damn, I can hardly wait until I see
them!”

“Your
coming to us was timely, perhaps only in time.”

“That
is surely truth, and I’m afraid there are further battles to wage in this
arena. Earth could not be more different than Aketti.”

“Still,
I have it on good account that matters will turn out well.” Chuckling under his
breath, Gurthwin levered himself upright and headed for bed.

Jeff
emerged from his lodge whistling a bright tune. “What a relief to be out from
under that load! Damn, I can’t believe it! I’m going to be a father!” He had
overslept and jogged toward the meeting hall to attend the final war
conference.

The
meeting was intended only to reaffirm plans. The fact that it proved to be
short bolstered Jeff’s confidence. He and his band left camp by the middle of
the morning since they had a long forest trek to complete by nightfall. Given
the distance, he had scrounged enough horses to mount everyone. They nearly ran
into a crew of Salchek conscripts felling timber along the way, but reached
their jump-off spot without being discovered.

It
was well after dark when Jeff led his troops out of the woods some miles south
of Rugen. Along the way, Balko casually remarked that at least two packs of
wolves loosely related to Balthazar’s were going to join the Alemanni ambush.
Jeff could tell there was more to it than that. Rather than buy into a setup,
he resolved to wait for the other shoe to drop. Balko’s association with Cynic
paid off and Jeff was the first one to break.

“Yes,
and?…”

Balko’s
jaws parted in a vast wolf grin.
“The pack led by the one you term
‘Balthazar’ awaits us a short distance from here.”

“Let
me guess, wolf-brother. You just happened to mention what we were up to tonight
and sort of invited them, right?”

“Would
you have it otherwise?”
Balko replied, good humor bubbling over
into the thought.

Jeff
joined the mental laughter and could only agree that, no, he wouldn’t have it
any other way. It was a great relief to know that Balthazar’s ringers would be
working with him again and he dropped back to warn the troops. When the moment
came and they encountered the dim group of patiently waiting wolves, Jeff heard
only a few startled oaths.

With
wolves scouting the way, Salchek outposts they encountered never had a chance.
When they could penetrate no deeper without risking their line of retreat, Jeff
signaled the troop to dismount by doing so. The disgruntled warriors who had
drawn short straws and the job of tending the remuda collected horses as
troopers climbed down.

Taking
the twenty-five warrior reserve force aside, Jeff made sure they understood
their responsibilities. When he was satisfied they did, he and Balko hunkered
down with Balthazar and Heideth to wait it out.

Somewhere
past midnight, Jeff sought and found Gaereth keeping vigil on the south
battlements.

“We’re
jumping off now. Probably take half an hour or so to sneak in.”

“Rengeld
is ready to roll, and Gurthwin reports that all is well with Halric’s command.
Good fortune be with you.”

Jeff
gathered his team of twenty-one warriors and moved out. Three were assigned to
each engine: two to soak them with oil and turpentine, one to act as sentry.
Wolves would accompany each unit to silence pickets. If a strong guard was
mounted around the siege machinery, Jeff figured they were in deep trouble. He
was counting on Salchek ignorance of forces outside city walls and a common
tendency to undervalue partially completed items to carry the day.

Visible
only as a blur, Balko crept along in a stalking half-crouch several feet ahead
of Jeff. Heideth and Balthazar were farther ahead on the point with the rest of
the pack patrolling on either side of the column. The warriors followed in
Jeff’s footsteps by threes. Five paces and stop to listen, five more. Step by
step they penetrated the Salchek perimeter, the night pitch black from
overcast.

They
had eliminated two sentries when Jeff heard a loud grunt behind him followed by
a clank.

Shit!
One of them must have tripped! Heart racing, Jeff froze in place. A voice
suddenly pierced the darkness. It seemed to come from only feet away.

“You
hear that, Zed?”

“Don’t
hear nothing.”

Jeff
jumped as something shattered, followed by a thump that sounded like a boot
hitting flesh.

“I
catch you drinkin’ again, and yere gone to see the man.”

Muttered
curses and whines tapered off to silence. Jeff waited for seemingly endless
minutes, every sense tuned to the maximum. Nothing more. Breathing deep and
exhaling slowly, he sent a thought to Balthazar and Heideth.

“These
guards must not give warning.”

Something
hit the ground and thrashed for a moment. Another brief commotion before all
was silent again. The advance continued. Jeff nearly stumbled over a crumpled
shape that lay in his path. A few steps more and a greater darkness loomed out
of the night.

About
time, Jeff thought with great relief. That has to be one of the engines. When
they were closer he made out the shape of a large trebuchet. The frame appeared
to be complete. Peering intently along the thirty-foot arm projecting
vertically into the night sky, he got the impression that the basket had not
been installed. Jeff gave the dispersal order.

Led
by a pair of wolves, teams crept off in search of the remaining engines. The
wolves were tense with anticipation. The attack on the Astholf Army had been
fun, but this was a high stakes game much like a stalk. There was nothing they
enjoyed more.

It
was the first time Jeff had monitored a full pack on the hunt. He was amazed at
the continual flow of data between the groups as they dispersed. Each pair of
wolves knew precisely where the other pairs were, guard positions were noted
and sightings of siege engines passed around. While listening in, Jeff put his
own team to work. Helwin shinnied up the swing arm and trickled turpentine down
the wood while others soaked the base.

One
by one, five wolf pairs checked in. The sixth pair reported heavy guard
activity. They were stymied for a period before finding a way to sneak in.
Balthazar had been coordinating the operation.

“All
are in position, wolf-brother.”

Jeff
gave the command to strike fire in a harsh whisper. The other teams had been
ordered to wait until they saw clear evidence of fire. Click, click, he heard
flint strike steel, followed by a cascade of sparks and small flame. Seconds
later the turpentine took off with a rush. Shortly, he saw other fires
beginning to flare. Jeff gathered his crew with urgent whispers.

“Hold
fast. We cannot depart until the flames may not be quenched.”

Alarmed
shouts rang out. Within moments, dim forms could be seen racing toward them in
the growing firelight. Shortly, alarmed cries sounded from every quarter,
shrill bugle calls split the air, and somewhere a mighty drum began pounding
out its call to battle.

Jeff
drew Berold with a dry rasp, a thrill shooting up his arm as he did so. Its
weight seemed as nothing. A Salchek raced up with his eyes fixed on flames that
had raced to the top of the trebuchet. Jeff ran him through, whirled to parry a
blow from another Salchek and thrust under the man’s guard. He yanked the saber
out and ducked away as two more leaped at him with swords in motion.

The
soldiers were skilled swordsmen. Jeff had his hands full defending himself
while trying to move away from the blistering heat on his back. Desperate to
win free before more piled on, Jeff double-feinted, leaped between his
opponents and spun. He felled one man, locked guards with the other and slammed
the hilt of his sword against the Salchek’s head.

One
look at the trebuchet convinced Jeff that nothing could put it out. It was
engulfed in flames.

“Now!
We must leave!” Rounding up his crew, they slipped away.

Groups
of conscripts carrying buckets of water rushed by cursing and pointing. Many
were partially dressed and none were carrying weapons. They didn’t even seem to
be aware of Jeff’s small unit in their frenzy to get at the fire. Balko
crouched along in front, the rest of the unit following his lead as he darted
to one side or the other dodging the larger groups. On several occasions it was
a mad scramble to avoid being run over.

They
were nearly out of it when Balko sprinted straight ahead instead of dodging.
Jeff saw why in a flash.

“Form
up!”

The
words were barely out when they were fighting back to back, assaulted from all
sides by a fully dressed and armed Salchek unit. Sword blows rang out and
blades glinted red in the towering ring of fire as Jeff and his unit fought
their way toward the horses.

Balko
charged into the middle of the Salchek and created so much havoc they could not
launch a concerted attack. Worried not at all by the odds, Jeff’s warriors were
singing battle songs. They had finally found action worthy of the name. The
bass drum’s sullen pounding never slackened, penetrating through the sounds of
battle and crackling fire.

Got
to get out of this or we’re finished, Jeff thought as he parried a blow. He
yanked the Ruger out, aimed into the thickest press of Salchek and fired six
crashing rounds. As bodies crumpled, the Salchek fell back in shocked disarray.

“Run
for it!”

 
They hadn’t gone far when the Salchek unit
was on them again, then it was lunge forward three steps beating out thrust and
parry, only to skip back five and do it again. They were about to be overrun
when the Alemanni reserve force burst onto the scene shouting for blood. With
the odds reversed, the Salchek were destroyed in a furious exchange. Jeff did a
quick head count. The warriors from his team were all present. Thank God. Now
if only the other teams made it out.

When
they arrived at the jump-off base and he could really take stock, Jeff’s heart
did a stutter-step. Balko was walking on three legs. Jeff sagged with relief
when he found a flesh wound that was more lengthy than deep. His crew piled
onto their horses as ordered and spurred off toward the rendezvous point in the
forest. Turning to count how many horses were left, Jeff bumped into Helwin.

“What
are you doing here? You should have left with the rest.”

A
startlingly white grin split Helwin’s soot-blackened face. “Magda has the right
of it. It seems that someone must insure that you do not fall over your own
feet!”

With
a fatalistic shrug, Jeff counted horses. Over half were gone. Several teams of
Alemanni came running while he counted, two warriors staggering as they carried
a third. Urging them and the reserve force on their way, Jeff trotted back into
the Salchek perimeter accompanied by Balko. Several teams were still missing. A
rising bugle call pierced through the whistle of fires, its tenor note clear
and strident.

“That’s
got to be Rengeld. He must be starting his sortie. Shit! Where are the rest of
those bozos?”

A
tremendous shout hammered at his ears and the ground trembled, battered by the
rolling thunder of two thousand hooves.

“Time
to get out of here!”

He
had not taken many steps when a clashing roar washed over him as Rugen’s cavalry
smashed into the Salchek. Jeff skidded to a halt where the horses were picketed
and counted saddles again. Eight remained, not counting Cynic. A faint but
urgent cry burned through the noise of battle.

“Captain!
Assist me!”

“Where
did that come from?” Jeff tensed and stared in what he thought was the right
direction. “That sounded like Helwin! What the hell is she doing out there?”

A
choking cloud of dust from the cavalry action rolled over him, reducing the
firelight to an orange-red blur.

“Screw
it!”

Jeff
ran in the direction of the call. Although running on three legs, Balko was out
in front. A clanging of swords rang out nearby. Balko dug into a turn on all
fours and raced out of sight. Jeff called on a new shot of adrenaline and tore
after him. Dim forms locked in combat took shape while another thrashed on the
ground with what looked to be a demon at its throat.