Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (70 page)

“If
we succeed in forming another cavalry troop it cannot be assigned to Halric as
I had originally planned. I believe it fair to say we are going to need them
both. This means you must oversee two troops of cavalry rather than one. Do you
wish this responsibility?”

They
were into the camp’s outskirts and approaching a number of warriors, but Helwin
didn’t need to think about her answer.

“I
find that I enjoy this ‘organizational’ work, and am well fitted to the task. I
thank you for the opportunity.”

That
afternoon they really dug into the paper work. Although Helwin needed some
coaching, Jeff quickly discovered she did in fact have a head for
organizational work, and figures as well. Not long into the, to him, odious
task, Jeff held out one of the ballpoint pens.

“You
will need this.”

Helwin
turned it end for end with a puzzled expression. When Jeff pulled the cap off
to scribble a few words she snatched it back.

“How
wonderful!” Helwin laughed like a girl and drew complicated designs. “This
comes from your home?”

“My
former home. Now it is yours. Do use it sparingly, for we only have three.”

“I
shall cherish it! I am so honored!”

By
that evening Jeff thought they would be able to form a second troop if they
could speed up the selection process. There was a lot of interest, but not
enough seasoned warriors were applying. Jeff smiled as he recalled the
excitement generated by the ballpoint pen. To northern warriors, the pen might
as well have been a magic wand.

At
the end of the day Helwin contrived a leather pouch so she could hang it around
her neck. In a very important way, Jeff concluded, the pen was a more potent
symbol of her authority than any title or weapon. Before turning in, Jeff and
Helwin split up to pass the word around various satellite camps. It was time to
do some serious recruiting.

When
Jeff approached the meeting hall early next morning, he nearly groaned. A
double line of warriors snaked around the building and out of sight. He needed
recruits, but not this many! Muttering, “Bloody paperwork,” he entered the
hall. Helwin was waiting. She greeted him with hot coffee and a rueful smile.

“I
am hopeful that bloodshed will not result by the end of this day, Captain.
Anticipation runs high.”

Jeff
just shook his head and sat down at a table while Helwin summoned the first
warrior.

That
evening he located Gaereth and communicated his decision. The meeting hall had
quieted and was empty except for Gurthwin, who was seated nearby in a chair
similar to Jeff’s. Balko lay stretched out in a position designed to soak up as
much heat as possible. Seemingly deep in thought, Gurthwin stared into a fire
that cast wavering shadows about the hall and over his face.

“We’ve
been knocking the same possibility around here in the city, Jeff. Rengeld is
extremely concerned but doesn’t see how he can afford the troops it would take
to break out of Rugen. If the Salchek are going to attempt resupply, the
caravan will have to already be heading north or never make it before deep
snow. It’s going to have to be a big one, and probably well defended. While I
doubt they can field another army this early on, it will still be a rough go
for you.”

“It
hasn’t been an easy decision. Things are beginning to mesh here, but it’s still
pretty fragile. If Halric wasn’t such a competent leader and so well respected
by the other tribes, I’m not sure I could justify leaving….”
Jeff’s thoughts trailed off to be replaced by such a sense of dread and
emotional fatigue that Gaereth had to force alarm into the background.

“Want
to talk about it?”

“I
feel so empty inside, so very, very tired. Coming down out of the mountains
last spring, I almost turned back for good. I just don’t know how much more I
have to give….”
After a long pause,
“The nightmares
are back, Grandfather. As soon as I knew I had to go, they came back. I can’t
bear the thought of dying like that. Not again.”

Gaereth
felt Jeff’s pain like a knife in the heart.
“Will you tell me about it? We
haven’t talked much about last winter.”

The
imagery and emotions conveyed by telepathy left nothing to the imagination. The
sense of abandonment and spiritual desolation was so powerful that Gaereth felt
like he had been punched in the stomach. He reviewed every leader at the
Alemanni camp searching for a substitute but knew it was futile. He also knew
in his heart that a Salchek resupply effort was moving north.

Feeling
a wave of bitterness, Gaereth pulled farther back from the link. And now must I
sacrifice my grandson on the altar of war? So many have died! How can I tell
him he must go?

“I’m
sorry if I let you down, Grandfather. I’ll do my best.”

 
Emotional floodgates straining to hold back
centuries of loss burst. Remorse, sorrow and guilt flooded Gaereth and his head
bent to his knees. Carl was seated nearby working on a training program for his
hospital and heard a gasp. A moment later he was inundated by Gaereth’s
emotion.

Frantically
wondering what had happened, Carl hurried over to throw an arm around Gaereth’s
shoulders and immediately picked up on Jeff’s state of mind. The double impact
was so severe his knees nearly gave way.

Gurthwin
had been keeping close track of Jeff from under bushy eyebrows. He knew that
Jeff was exhausted, and the state of his mind when he and Helwin returned from
their walk had been alarming. Gurthwin caught Jeff’s last thought and
unabashedly tuned in. The emotional turmoil present in the three men hit with
the blunt force of a hammer.

 
“Peace and love be with you, brothers. Attend
me.”

Opening
his mind totally, and by his example accepting nothing less from the others,
Gurthwin searched their minds one by one. So stern but loving was his
examination that Jeff and Gaereth felt peace steal across their minds. Carl
quickly sat down before he collapsed from relief.

“Gaereth,
Jeffrey and Carl—embedded in life as it is, there is no salve or potion that
will serve to erase the suffering you have experienced. Yet, do you believe all
that has come to pass, and the manner of its fashioning, was contrived by
happenstance? Can you not comprehend that the very gods oversee these affairs?”

Gurthwin
mentally sat back and let them mull it over. In a cooperative effort, the three
men compared notes and ticked off events. The timing meshed so closely that
using coincidence as an explanation grew stale. More than a few events were
either inexplicable by any device or frankly amazing.

“Even
so,”
Gurthwin commented.
“Furthermore, is it
given us to foretell the time or place of our death, or to understand what
purposes in the greater scheme of things it will serve? Certainly not. Thus
also our actions, regardless of motivation. When missions and people so clearly
serve the welfare of freedom and peace that the intent of destiny and those who
rule us all lie exposed, we as mortals should tremble with humility.

“Ours
is a terrible task, one that may well require all our lives. Again, that is not
ours to foretell. We must only and continually search our hearts for the truth,
then promote that truth into worthy action.

“Jeffrey,
I will not bandy words and cannot soften them—you and young Balko must go.
Gaereth and Carl, you must stay. Yet, is there not enough love amongst us to
sustain our spirits in the face of whatever is to come? Are we not all of us
surrounded by worthy, virtuous people? Come, let us take sustenance from one
another and from the task allotted us.”

Gurthwin
drew their minds into close embrace with his, the nimbus of his love glowing
like a halo.

The
fire was down to embers and ash when Jeff awoke. Feeling at peace, even serene,
he looked over to find Gurthwin fast asleep. He appeared exhausted. Balko was
stretched out on his side near the fire and struggled to his feet when Jeff
stood up. Bending over Gurthwin, Jeff kissed him on the forehead and gently
picked up his frail body. Carrying him to his bed in a back room, Jeff tucked
him into fur robes and walked out of the building.

“Rolfgar,
dismount and adjust your stirrups.”

Jeff
waited patiently while the warrior fought a frustrating battle to lengthen his
stirrups. There were no snickers from other troopers. Rolfgar was only one of
many who had been called down. They had a lot to learn about riding horses.
Jeff stepped in and demonstrated how to get the job done. He didn’t mind, in
fact felt like a new man and fully prepared to put the training schedule into
high gear.

Over
ensuing weeks, Jeff and Helwin drove the cavalry troops hard. Time passed in a
blur of skull sessions and field exercises. Evenings were spent poring over
endless lists and devising tactics. One element was missing. They really needed
scouts. As a result of that deficiency, Balko was sent on a mission to contact
Balthazar.

About
the time Jeff was beginning to wonder what had happened to him, Balko loped
into camp acting as if he had never been away.

“The
matter is concluded. ‘Balthazar’ and his pack will come, as will the one we met
in the far north. This one knows where they hunt and will call them when the
hour is come.”

Halric
took the news well. He was firmly in control of the Alemanni and exuded
confidence. In Jeff’s estimation, Halric was well on his way to becoming a
first rank C.O. Gurthwin set every available tanner and leather fabricator to
work constructing winter clothing for the cavalry, and added his own lists to
those Jeff tried to avoid at every opportunity.

Helwin
wearily entered the meeting hall after a particularly long day in the field. Her
face was coated with dust where it wasn’t streaked with sweat. She hesitated
between water and coffee then made a beeline for the water barrel. Jeff wasn’t
far behind and removed gauntlets to slap dust from his pants. He accepted a mug
of water and collapsed into a chair. Sitting down nearby, Helwin propped her
boots up on a bench with a sigh of relief.

“They’re
still pretty green, Helwin, but we’re out of time. We’ll complete training
while moving south. Now we must make sure that all the horses are sound,
including the pack animals.”

Finding
horses capable of carrying heavy troopers had been a prime headache. Had they
not captured a quite a few from the Salchek during the forest battle, it would
have been a lost cause.

“I
can handle that, Captain,” Helwin replied in English.

“Without
a doubt, Lieutenant.”

Jeff
pulled his knife and began cleaning his fingernails. It was either that or grin
at her. They had been working in such close proximity over preceding weeks that
he no longer had to translate English thoughts into Northland’s speech. His
first attempts at conveying military concepts that had originated in a foreign
culture and different language to a hundred warriors had proven overwhelming.

Within
a short period Helwin began picking up English words. Discussing cavalry
tactics had proven a good way to expand her vocabulary. As she learned, they
split the task of schooling the troops. Now it was late September and the time
to leave had arrived.

“As
much as I despise that pile of lists we’ve collected, let’s pull them all
together for a final review.”

They
enlisted Gurthwin’s help and by late evening the last item on the last list was
checked off. Everything was in place. Capping his pen, Jeff gave Helwin the
order for assembly at first light.

The
compound was crowded with relatives, friends and chieftains when Helwin
summoned Jeff from the meeting hall. Halric and Gurthwin joined him on the way
out. The air was still and heavy with the scent of fall. Although the sun was
not up, the sky promised a beautiful day. Helwin had assembled the company a
short distance from the hall. Gurthwin stopped on the porch.

“You
will return to us, Jeffrey.”

“Perhaps,
but whatever the outcome of our mission you must know that I will not fail in
the effort.”

“You
have not thus far, and I trust such effort will suffice. The gods require no
more of us.”

Jeff
clasped hands with Halric. “Give the Salchek no rest, my friend.”

“They
will have none. This land is not theirs.”

There
was nothing more to say. Jeff hugged Gurthwin and walked away. Helwin drew
herself up straight in the saddle.

“At-ten-shun!”
A number of warriors were conversing with relatives and were slow to react.
“Look alive or pull KP, boots!”

The
Alemanni did not have an official band, but musicians from the various tribes
had formed a drum and fife corps for the fun of it. Drums roared an
exhilarating beat and fifes skirled as Jeff mounted. Arching his neck, Cynic
pranced sidewise toward Helwin.

“All
present and accounted for, sir!”