by Candy Rae
He looked round the Inner Sanctum for the last time. How many had entered this room, had stood where he was standing and wondered as he did now. Too many to count. He smelled its distinct aroma; it was redolent with polish with a faint hint of dust. He would never forget it.
He sighed. It was time to join Freya.
It was time to leave.
* * * * *
The Fifty-first Ryzck and the Fifteenth Ryzck were to be the final two to depart the Stronghold.
They were forming up in two long columns. The riders were wearing their dress uniforms and were carrying small maroon pennants on long poles emblazoned with the silver Lind’s head, the same badge that was worn on the uniform tunics.
Susa Malkum smiled with pride as he saw them. This, the final parade, the final march-out would be one to remember, one for the history books.
He caught the elderly Ryzcka Dominik’s eye and waved. This was the signal for Dominik, the oldest serving vadeln and his Lind to lead out the support personnel ahead of the main columns, a mixture of riders and Lind, some vadeln-paired, others not. The latter were riding Lind who had arrived the day before to ‘offer them a lift’ to the spaceship. Some other Lind were carrying packs of last-bell items such as food and drink for the journey and last moment possessions.
Everything else was gone.
Malkum and Freya watched as Dominik and his assorted party moved out through the gates.
Soon it would be Freya and him who would pass though. He remembered the day when he had first arrived, forty years ago come year’s turn. He had been fifteen, Freya a year older; he a apprehensive adolescent wondering what he was doing here and Freya trotting through with confidence, she had not been wondering. She had been confident of the ‘rightness’ of their pairing.
Malkum smiled at the memory.
Who would have imagined then the two of them would one day become the very last Susa of the Vada?
Now was the day of the final severance.
Today was leaving day.
The last swishing tail of Dominik’s peculiar command swished through the open gate.
Malkum looked up to where the large Vada pennant flew. It was said that the flagpole had been erected by Susa Francis himself when he had built the Stronghold. He looked away. He couldn’t bear to watch.
The man standing to attention beside the flagpole saluted and began to lower the pennant. Malkum heard a single trumpet blare out; one note, which went on and on until it faded away.
When Malkum looked up again the flagpole was bare.
* * * * *
Davad Talanson marched up to Malkum and Freya, the pennant draped over his forearms. It was not a large pennant, by tradition it was small enough to be able to be carried. This was a good thing considering the size and strength of the person who was destined to carry it for the last time.
Malkum saluted Davad.
“Thanks old friend,” he said in a very quiet voice.
Davad looked about ready to burst into tears.
“You have command.”
“Yes Susa,” said Davad, accepting the responsibility for the Stronghold until he was relieved. It wouldn’t be long. Both men (and Freya) knew that the Garda were on their way.
Davad marched over to the rider who sat waiting. The carry pole was already wedged in her right stirrup. All Davad had to do was to attach the pennant.
Tara was dressed in the uniform of a first year cadet; in the dress uniform tunic with its high collar and white piping. On her left breast was sewn the cadet equivalent of the silver Vada emblem; in her case a white Lind head. Attached to her belt was Davad’s gift to her, the sword he had wielded as a boy. Her boots gleamed, the result of bells spent under Davad’s tutelage polishing. Kolyei too, his coat gleamed with brushing and health and his harness shone.
To Tara and Kolyei had gone the honour of carrying the pennant. It had been an unanimous decision made by the members of the Fifteenth and the Fifty-first Ryzcks.
“Let Thalia’s little sister take it,” had said Ryzcka Vandiel of the Fifteenth and Ryzcka Jilla of the Fifty-first had agreed.
“It should really be one of you two,” Malkum had argued.
Vandiel had shaken his head.
“No, me and Jilla have talked it over and with the vadeln of our respective Ryzcks. We,” he had laughed, “want to go out two by two, just like in the storybooks. Find another pair if you’d rather but if it is Tara and Kolyei, well, we all think it has a nice ring to it, their names and all. Tara’s sister served with us too.”
Jilla, a spare, rangy woman with a scar down her left cheek, had nodded and Malkum had paid attention; most people did when Jilla told them what she wanted.
Susa Malkum had agreed that Tara and Kolyei should carry out the pennant.
* * * * *
To Tara and Kolyei therefore had come some intensive training. She had had to learn how to ride Kolyei and look good (two different things entirely). There was also a mad scramble to find her a dress uniform tunic that fitted because the uniforms had all gone in the last wagon train but one. Malkum’s wife had come to the rescue. She had gathered together some good seamstresses and they had made the uniform from scratch using a bolt of Vada maroon that had been left behind in a corner of the storeroom. As a result it fitted Tara like a glove.
She felt proud of the honour but scared too.
: You do fine will : Kolyei implanted the sentence in Tara’s mind. Their telepathic link was improving with each bell but it still took, for Tara especially, a great deal of effort : calm you must be : Kolyei’s syntax in Standard still needed some working on but he was getting better. Tara’s Lindish was still pretty rudimentary so they were speaking in Standard for now.
“I’m trying Kolyei, really I am but what happens if I drop it?”
“You will not drop. Susa fixed pole in sti-r-up thing at side. Hold on tight to pole and we fine will be.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I’m sure you will Tara,” said Davad who had reached them in time to overhear, “let down the pole now there’s a good girl, just like I taught you, that’s right so I can attach the pennant.”
Tara noticed that Davad kissed it before he began to tie it to the pole.
He pushed the pole upright and helped Tara set the end in her stirrup. That done, he laid a gnarled hand on her upper leg and looked at her.
“Good luck girl,” he said, “now off you go, do us proud. Remember what to do?”
“Me and Kolyei, we just need to follow Susa Malkum and Freya and keep to the right distance. Thank you Davad, you’ve been very kind to me and, good luck to you too.”
“Loco parentis,” he said, “but you’ve got Kolyei now, you’ll never be alone again. I predict that a long life and much happiness ahead of you Tara. Make the most of it. Goodbye my dear.”
“Goodbye Davad.”
Davad stepped back. He and Malkum traded the glance that said it all.
: Time to go Freya :
: I am ready :
: Move them out :
Susa Malkum and Freya paw-stepped forward in what Davad would later describe as a dignified and steady pace.
When Kolyei saw Freya’s paws move (Freya hadn’t seen the necessity to telepath the order, all those behind knew what to do) he too paw-stepped forward and behind them paw-stepped the vadeln-pairs of the two Ryzcks, each led by their respective Ryzcka.
* * * * *
The remaining inhabitants of Vada and many too from the surrounding area who had arrived to watch the last march out lined the streets, three deep in some places. There were tears in many an eye. Even the children were subdued.
No-one ever admitted to being the one who started the clapping and the cheering but start it did.
Tara felt quite overwhelmed by it all, though she kept her head up and her eyes facing front as she had been taught. Kolyei was enjoying the experience. He started showing off, adopting an exaggerated gait and lifting his paws.
: Stop
that : Tara insisted. She was beginning to find it difficult keeping her pole vertical with the bouncing and he did as she asked, albeit with reluctance.
Susa Malkum and Freya began to pick up the pace. Followed by Tara and Kolyei and the two Ryzcks they trotted. Tara gritted her teeth and gripped the pole tighter. The cheering and the clapping got louder and the sounds came from the hearts of the onlookers.
They were cheering for the Vad, who had unselfishly defended them from harm for over eight centuries. The onlookers might be crying but were cheering through their tears.
Freya’s paws quickened again, moving into the lope. Tara continued to struggle to keep the pole upright and was very thankful that Davad had insisted on extra straps to keep her legs in place and her posterior in the saddle.
She knew she was crying too. So were many who rode behind her.
Now they were out of the town.
Malkum and Freya kept running.
They didn’t look back.
* * * * *
-63-
THE FAVOURITE MANOR HOUSE OF THE DUKE OF HALLAM - DUCHY OF HALLAM - KINGDOM OF MURDOCH
“There have been doms scattered around the continents for simply ages, out of sight and smell. It’s been a simply massive undertaking. Some of the Larg and even some of the smaller Lind rtaths left for the new world years ago,” said Paul Hallam to Robert Crawford
“I almost can’t believe the amount of subterfuge required. Why, we in Murdoch had simply no idea. We thought Largdom was intact. There certainly hasn’t been a dearth of activity just outside our borders.”
“Don’t forget Robert, the Larg are just as intelligent as the Lind. I’m sure the Largan has been working very hard making sure there was plenty of activity in areas where it was expected. Remember the reports from the border patrols?”
“Amazing. Wonder why the Larg went first though.”
“I suppose it was because it was easier for them to get away without being noticed. Very few of us ever travel through their Nadlians. Easy to hide the transport spaceships landing and taking off. In Dagan too, I’ve been informed it is virtually empty. Only a few Lind and Lai are left.” He laughed, “that Markwood venture. If they had only waited a little bit longer no-one would have argued about a new colony there. Now the last Lind are gathering at set points within their rtathlians and they will all be gone by the time this tenday is over.”
“So, so, soon there will be no Lind, Larg or Lai left on the planet?”
“That is so, at least very few. I believe the Larg that co-inhabit the island of Hallam wish to remain but they are only a few.”
* * * * *
-64-
THE BORDER BETWEEN THE DUCHY OF HALLAM AND THE NADLIANS OF THE LARG
“I’ve come to say goodbye,” said Daniel to Thalia, entering the tent.
“I suppose it is good bye at that,” she replied in an emotionless voice. “You’re going back to Murdoch I presume?”
“Vya has arranged a horse,” he agreed, “I leave in the morning.”
“Me too, leave I mean. Josei and I are taking the power core to the embarkation point.”
“Zeb and Vya?”
“Go with us.”
“Take care Thalia,” said Daniel, backing away. He felt he couldn’t stay another heartbeat in case he disgraced himself by bursting into tears. He wanted her to say, don’t go, come with us Daniel, up into the stars, share in our adventure, but she did not.
* * * * *
She wanted to but she did not.
Thalia watched him back out of the tent.
It has to be his decision, I can’t ask him to come with us. I don’t want him to feel obliged to come.
“I’ll miss you,” she called out but wasn’t sure if he had heard.
I love you!
Daniel paused but did not look round, merely raising a hand in farewell.
Thalia turned to Josei : well Josei, looks like it’s just you and me again :
He wagged his tail but said nothing.
* * * * *
-65-
THE BORDER BETWEEN VADATH AND ARGYLL
Major Romul Durand of the Argyll Garda, in command of the Sixth Foot, was one of the best infantry officers in the officer corps. He had had passed out from the Academie first in his class and followed this with a distinguished career.
He was good at his job; commanding troops but he also had a logical brain, coupled with imagination. He could think ahead.
The Sixth Foot was one of the oldest regiments in the Garda. It had fought at the Battle of the Alliance during that second important summer after mankind had arrived on the planet, at the Battle of the Gorge in AL 167 deep within the Rtathlians of the Lind when the Larg had invaded in the west and more recently (if one counted two centuries prior to this day as recent) at the Battle of Duchesne in the Kingdom of Murdoch when the Dglai had been defeated.
* * * * *
He now found himself leading his men and women to a previously unthinkable place, to the border between Argyll and Vadath. He was not marching to a war, at least he did not think he was but he was on a mission to find out what was happening and had instructions to find out, using ‘reasonable force’ (the exact words on his written orders) if the need arose.
Francis Durand had written to him a letter which had arrived with the orders to march west.
‘I am just as confused as you will be Romul. As far as we can gather, there is not a single Lind left here in Argyll. They’ve vanished as completely as stars in a cloudy sky. The Vadathian ambassador, the original one has also gone. I didn’t notice at first but the Vadathians vadeln-paired with Lind must have been fading away for months now. Ambassador Paula and her Lind Venlei left at the end of summer and were replaced by an Ambassador Anders, who is not vadeln-paired. I have spoken to him and he has been very evasive with his answers. Kept telling me that the situation was only temporary. I don’t believe him. He also confirmed my belief that Argyll is not in any danger from Vadath though I do believe that.’
Major Durand concurred with the views expressed in his cousin’s letter.
He mentally reviewed his orders again. If he did not manage to make contact with the Vada at the border, he was to take a company from his battalion and enter Vadath with the aim of reaching the Vada Stronghold. There, the orders had said, he must get an answer to the conundrum. The act of actually crossing the border was to be at his discretion. If there were any hostile acts made against his troops, if he thought it was too dangerous he was to dig in along the border and send for help.
* * * * *
The time to put his career on the line and to use his discretion had come.
He hadn’t made any contact with the Vada at the border, nor with any Lind at all for that matter. The famous maroon uniforms were notable by their absence.
He decided to take the whole battalion into Vadath.
They marched across the ford.
No vadeln-pairs came running to find out what he was doing.
* * * * *
-66-
THE STRONGHOLD OF THE VADA – VADATH
Now he was approaching the town of Vada itself. The few people he encountered were uncommunicative to the point of rudeness. No amount of intense questioning got more than two words out of them.
They’ve gone, they would say, even the youngest repeated these two words over and over again. Many of the people they saw were openly weeping.
It was uncanny.
* * * * *
The normally noisy and busy township around the Stronghold was almost deserted. Many of the shops and inns were boarded up and there were few children playing in the streets.
They scurried inside when Major Durand’s infantry columns marched past.
The men and women soldiers of the Garda were nervous. Major Durand could feel it, he could see it on their faces and in the tense way their fingers were holding their swords.
“Tell them to halt,” Romul ordered his Sergeants as they glimpsed their first si
ght of the Stronghold walls.
“Halt,” the sergeants shouted and the column came to a stop.
Silence.
Romul looked at the walls. No face peered down at them.
The huge gates lay open.
What has happened here?
Where has the Vada gone?
A disease?
Then a solitary man walked out through the gates, an old man, grey haired.
He was dressed in Vada maroon.
Romul recognised the insignia on his tunic. Assistant Weaponsmaster. Now perhaps he might get some answers.
The man paused for a moment, as if he was assessing the situation. His gaze fell on Romul.
He came to attention, marched up to Romul and saluted.
Romul returned the salute.
“Major,” the old man acknowledged him, “I am Davad Talanson, once Assistant Weaponsmaster to the Vada under Weaponsmaster Alkin. I never had the honour of being vadeln-paired but I served with the Vada faithfully all my adult life.”
Romul nodded. He knew that not every member of the Vada was a vadeln. Many of the support personnel were not.
“What happened here?” Romul asked.
Davad Talanson cleared his throat and plunged into his pre-rehearsed speech.
