by Candy Rae
Summer arrived. The snows melted from the hills and early flowers started to bloom. The fruit bushes were flowering and fruit buds began to form. There was new growth everywhere you looked. If it hadn’t been for the invasion threat looming over them the colonists might have felt they were living in a paradise. The kura and zarova herds were increasing daily. Many young were being born and they browsed and played in the pasturelands, the dams watching over them. The Lind took to the human idea of capturing and raising kura herds at their own domtas. The small gentle kura and the not so gentle zarova now lived in paddocks beside the Zanatei domta, for use by both human and Lind. The humans were amazed at the way the Lind managed the wild herds. They had definite rules governing this.
No animal in foal was to be caught for food and none of the young. The old and sick were fair game and also the males. In this way, they succeeded in keeping the herds healthy and plentiful. The Larg, if they were allowed to spread over the continent, had no such rules; they would hunt and kill indiscriminately, for food, but also for fun. They would decimate the herds in a huge area within days of their arrival.
At Zanatei the Vada drilled constantly; to begin with they had provided the spectators with a great deal of amusement, now they were perfecting their skills. Gone were the days when riders toppled out of their saddles (notwithstanding the leather restraining straps – supposed to be designed to prevent such an eventuality) as soon as they raised their swords to practise a blow. After long hours of practice, they now sat as glued to their partner’s back, no matter what antics their mounts got up to in an attempt to dislodge them. They were a well-rehearsed team, charging flank to flank at mock targets. Everyone possessed well-fitting armour. The Lind wore neck and chest armour, specially designed, after a lot of false attempts, not to impede movement. The Larg’s (and also the Lind’s) favourite place to strike was at their opponent’s neck and chest. Now when Larg teeth tried to close on this area all they would bite into would be, instead of the jugular, a good inch of treated leather. Long and tedious hours were spent softening the leather and moulding it into just exactly the right shape, trying to get the happy balance of protection and flexibility.
Added to their number were now twenty or so vadeln-pairs who were older than the others. Some men and women, angry at the dictat that restricted the pairings to those up to the age of thirty, had taken matters into their own hands and had approached older members of the various Lindars, offering themselves as riders. Some very experienced older Lind had responded, glad of the chance. It was these older pairs who found themselves commanding the individual troops and as the younger duos of both species respected age and experience, it seemed natural for Francis to promote them.
Jim Cranston and Larya were impressed with their progress and wished there were more of them.
“Many Larg will die,” announced Larya with satisfaction.
“You bloodthirsty woman,” answered Jim humorously. : Thought you Lind deplored the need to kill :
: Have fought Larg before :
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