by Candy Rae
“Both my gut feeling and the reports tell me,” replied Lynsey, “that the Larg are already on the march, their forward scouts may even now be passing over the Trent Reef. I do not, however, believe that their main army has started the crossing or is even close to the reef. I know we can defeat them as long as we can keep the numbers more or less even. My problem is that if say, we meet a third of their army in battle and defeat them, then the next third will arrive and then the next. Intelligence suggests that they are up to full strength. I must find a way to stop all the kohorts from crossing.”
“Blast powder,” the Captain said without a moment’s hesitation.
“Blast powder?”
“Aye. The same as the miners use. As we know, the sea is frozen linking the land islands that make up the reef. Perhaps if we can set off the blast powder at a suitable point, between two of them rocks, where the water is deeper and the ice not so thick it might work. We could break up the ice and close the route.”
He pointed to the chart.
“Here and perhaps here also. Fast and deep currents pass through both. There the ice will be thinner, more friable, stands to reason.”
“Is it all ice?”
“No, this part in the middle is solid ground. Treacherous rocks.” He pointed to the place. “If you do want to try and stop them before they get across then we should deal with them here. See on the map where the colours are darker? This shows deep water that is iced over now. If the Larg can cross, that means it can bear their weight, then it will also support us.”
“What good would us being on the ice do?” asked a perplexed Lynsey. “I don’t want to fight them on the ice.”
“If we sail,” he began to explain, “to where the reef is, cross over the ice to this rocky point we can set the blast powder explosive at a suitable spot on the ice beside it. With enough explosive force, the ice will crack. The current will do the rest. No more Larg will be able to get north, or south.”
“I’ll deal with them,” replied an implacable Lynsey.
“You’ll need to send some infantry; one of these Ryzcks of yours would help as well. We can hold the solid ground on the tor against them for a time, time enough for the miners to set the detonations. I think we might also detonate some ice on either side of the rock, stop them coming back to get at us, with enough men I can hold them off or at least give us time enough.”
“Can it be done?”
“There’s a powder ship at the Settlement; I know they were having some trouble, she’s anchored in the bay to make repairs to the rigging damaged during the last storm.”
“I’ll send word immediately; get them moving into the Middle Sea and to us. I’m going to send the Fifteenth Ryzck and a detachment of our own Vadathian Militia with you. You will take command of the fleet and get them there? I can’t think of anyone more suited to the task.”
“Agreed Susa. I will do my best.”
“Ryzcka Leon and his Lind Malya will be in charge of the actual fighting at the reef if there is any. It’s not pirates you will be facing on this occasion but the Larg and I don’t believe they know the meaning of the word fear.”
“Understood.”
“I’ll get the two of them to report to you then. See the Quartermaster and get anything you and your men need, arms, equipment, food and water. Leon will detail the Militia.”
“The Captain saluted her, naval style and with a start Lynsey realised that before he got his own ship the man must have spent time serving with the Argyll’s small regular naval force. His back was ramrod straight as he marched away. She began to feel a bit more confident that the Captain could do what he said he could.
“Sure you don’t want me to go?” queried Rhian.
“I need you with the main army Rhian. The senior cadets will run the communications pivot. It’s what they have been training for this last year. You are needed with us. You, me, the senior cadets and the training staff. Danel will come out of retirement and take over the juniors who will remain at Vada. His rheumatism is too bad for him to go with us.”
“I know they have to go but I don’t have to like it,” complained Rhian who had been vocal with her displeasure that they would be accompanying the army.
“You and every Weaponsmaster before you have uttered the same. You should read the notes our first Weaponsmaster Wilhelm Dahlstrom left, he had to commit all of his cadets to battle, juniors included.”
“I’ve read it,” answered Rhian in a voice devoid of emotion.
* * * * *
War (3)
At Stewarton, the capital (and only) city in Argyll, the Councillors were largely unaware of the events that were unfolding west and east. They did not know it yet, but they had been sidelined.
News of Lynsey’s recall of the Ryzcks had caused consternation, especially amongst those whose wards were on the coast. That Lynsey had used the title Susyc and not Susa, well, they had not understood the full import.
It wasn’t until one of the legalists was brought in to advise them that they understood at last although they still did not realise the full danger facing them all.
“It says in law that in times of need the Vada Susa will assume the title of Susyc and will lead all the Armies of the North against the Larg and whoever else threatens our continent,” announced Councillor Keane, eyeing the written order that had been delivered from the Vada Station close to Stewarton with distaste.
“I am not arguing about her rights,” said a querulous old biddy, Councillor for one of the northern Wards, by name of Edith Charles, “but is this a ‘time of need’? That paper you hold in your hand Keane, it does not tell us much. Until she does condescend to expand her orders and tell us exactly what is happening, with proof, we cannot order the Garda west. With the Ryzcks gone, they are needed to protect the coasts.”
“That vadeln-pair told us that the lands of the Lind are about to be attacked by the Larg. They have found another route north. If this is not a ‘time of need’ I don’t know what is,” shouted another Councillor against the loud murmurs of agreement with Edith Charles’s statement.
The old Councillor dismissed this with a snort. “That does not concern us,” she continued, her voice rasping over all other agitated discussions, “that’s so far west it does not matter. I say the Garda remains here.” She sat back in her chair, a triumphant smile on her face.
“The Ryzcks are leaving,” mentioned another
“Confirms my point. The Garda can’t leave as well.”
“There is the Militia.”
“Part-time soldiers,” she dismissed them with a snort.
“If Susa, I mean Susyc Lynsey is right, that kohorts of Larg land and defeat the Lind what then? The whole idea of having a Susyc in overall command was that together we can defeat them, on our own we cannot,” countered Councillor Keane.
“It will not come to that,” intoned Edith Charles
“How can you be so sure that the Larg are coming?” queried a dark-visaged individual who was sitting beside her, “she is not sure where, it might be here, in Argyll, at Settlement.”
There was a rap at the door of the Council Chamber.
It was Wallis and her Lind Venerfei.
“I have a report for the Councillors,” she announced with a slow bow. Wallis was no longer young and cold weather made her back ache. “Susyc Bernei, vadeln of Susyc Lynsey sends word, “he has had information from the South where a spy has been searching for the kohorts. We knew they had left their pack ranges some tendays ago but we did not know where they had gone. We do now. They are not in the east nor are they to the south.”
“Thanks be to the Lai,” breathed Councillor Keane as he realised his own country was not the target, “where?”
“Susycs Lynsey and Bernei were correct. They are running northwest towards the ice-covered island chain in the far corner of the rtathlians. Our spies estimate their army is in excess of thirty thousand. She calls for all the aid that you can muster.”
Th
e Councillors stopped arguing with immediacy. When Councillor Keane asked for a show of hands only one was not lifted.
“Order the Garda to prepare,” ordered Councillor Keane.
Wallis looked at him, Venerfei looked wise.
“They have already left,” she said, “two days ago.”
“How dare they without orders,” exclaimed the Councillor who had not raised her hand, predictably, the one with the name of Edith Charles.
“The last ship left this morning,” continued Wallis, “with the last Ryzck that could reach the port in time. General Durand has stripped the areas round Port Lutterell and Settlement of every available soldier. Even some of the Militia have answered the call.”
Stunned amazement!
“I cannot fault General Durand’s actions,” said Councillor Demertuis, “he answered the call, he realised the greater need. We must honour our treaty with Vadath and the Lind.”
“He should be demoted to the ranks. How dare he?”
“Oh dry up you old harridan.”
The other Councillors laughed and Edith Charles went a bright pink.
“In time of war, the Susyc outranks all of us,” said Councillor Keane in a mild voice although inwardly he was rather pleased to see Councillor Charles getting such a public censure. He had always found her more than a little of a trial.
“Why didn’t he tell us,” she recovered and demanded of Wallis and Venerfei, “or perhaps he did, the message sent and not delivered?”
“I had instructions to deliver it at Eighth Bell today,” Wallis informed them.
“Thought to keep us in the dark did you?” asked Councillor Demertuis with mock severity.
There was a bark of laughter from Councillor Keane. “Well, it doesn’t matter now, so?”
“It was felt that there should be a … a … delay, General Durand believed the situation was critical and he thought he might be ordered to wait until you had come to a decision. There was no time to waste.”
“We must take steps to make sure that the coasts are adequately guarded with Militia,” said Councillor Keane.
“We can help with this,” said Wallis. “I can no longer fight in a battleline,” she lifted up her left arm and the Councillors noted that the hand was missing all its fingers, “but we of the Re-Supply Stations and the Express are at your service. Susyc Lynsey is also sending us the junior cadets, those capable. They are on their way.”
“That is good of her,” said Councillor Patrick.
“We of the Vada know our duty,” Venerfei said in a deep bass voice. “We will protect you as far as we are able. As you have sent soldiers to the aid of our rtathlians so we shall protect you as long as we have breath in our bodies.”
There was another rap at the door.
“Councillor Keane? The Ambassador of Murdoch is here.”
“Send him in.”
It was Count Charles Cocteau.
“Could the Queen send some regiments to our aid?” queried Councillor Keane before Charles had reached the seat set aside for invited dignitaries and ambassadors.
Charles shook a regretful head.
“The Queen was unable to persuade Conclave. The regiments remain at our borders.”
“The Larg are not attacking Murdoch.”
“The Dukes are nervous. They insist. If events go ill with the Armies of the North, the Larg will turn on us. Murdoch will guard the island chain at Graham and ensure no Larg attack there. More the Queen cannot do.”
“More the Dukes cannot do.”
Charles shrugged, “it is the same.”
* * * * *
At Fort, Conclave was in session. The borders were quiet but the Lord Marshall and the Dukes were edgy.
Queen Anne was sitting at the head of the table, David was too ill to attend, a prerogative never before allowed and definitely discouraged, it was a mark of the Dukes’ unease that they did not object.
The discussion was long and filled with portent. Anne listened, her face speaking volumes.
“You think we should help them,” said the Duke of Duchesne to her at last. Unlike most of the other Dukes, he had respect for Anne’s acumen.
“I do admit it,” ventured Anne, speaking for the first time. “But I also agree that we must not relax our own border guards. The Navy though, could they not help? The Larg are running towards that other island bridge, our ships might be able to help, even if it is only to transport their troops.”
“Let them deal with their troops on their own,” growled young Duke Richard of Baker. He looked very much like his grandfather at that moment. “We have had alliance with the Larg for over a century and a half and they have not broken the treaty, nor should we.”
“Only because they could not,” Anne retorted with some heat. She did not like her son-in-law, “only in recent years have they had enough warriors to challenge.”
“We must not break the treaty,” agreed the Duke of van Buren, “but, well, they will be stripping their coastlines of Garda and the Vada and will have to rely on their Militia. Could we not volunteer to patrol their coasts? That would protect them from the pirates and we could thus prove our peaceful intentions to Argyll in a manner that will not compromise our treaty with the Larg.”
“We trade with the slavers,” warned the Duke of Brentwood in whose demesne lay the main slave-port.
“Warn them,” suggested the Duke of Gardiner, “tell them to keep away from Argyll for the duration. Their main activities are in the islands anyway.”
So it was that an emissary was sent to tell Count Charles Cocteau instructing him to inform the Council of Argyll that the Navy of Murdoch would protect the coasts along their eastern and southern seaboards.
More Anne, Queen of Murdoch could not do.
* * * * *
Santhed (Fourth Month of Winter) - AL166
War (4)
The Lind Galansei crawled with due care towards the caves that were the pack dens of this Larg pack. This was the third such community he had visited on his fact-finding mission. Each day more evidence emerged that the Larg kohorts were anywhere but in their home ranges.
He peeked over the rocks, gazed into the valley and took in what he was seeing. He was due to report at sundown, Ledei would be waiting for his call, a tight beam of images taken from the valleys he had visited and a quick spurt of wordage to minimise the chance that he was being overheard but he was confident that no Larg would be listening. The valleys were empty of any adult male Larg and there were not as many females as he had expected around either, only the old, the young and nursing mothers. He had met few hunting parties and those he had seen had been made up of females and older males. This last visit was confirmation of his findings to date.
Galansei slunk away, being very careful to stay under cover. He looked enough like the Larg to pass as a lone male, exiled for one reason or another from his pack but he wasn’t going to take any chances.
At the appointed time he ‘sent’ his report north and the Avuzdel Ledei, waiting for it, latched on and held it. The message was clear, the kohorts were gone.
It was time to go home. He ran north, easily avoiding the young Larg when he sensed them or bluffing his way through when he couldn’t. He didn’t waste any time, the dye with which the Avuzdel hid their stripe pattern always started to wear off after a month or so and there were telltale violet hairs beginning to show.
Galansei was in no mind to become the main course of any Larg’s next meal.
* * * * *
War (5)
The advance party from Vada led by Lynsey and Bernei did not wait for the main fleet. They sailed west as soon as they could. Although the Tranet had a mast and sails it also had a plenitude of oars and men to row. In fact, it was so similar to the pirate galleys that roamed the Great Eastern Sea that it hardly looked any different.
Lynsey and the other members of the party said little to the swarthy and tough-looking Captain about their suspicions regarding the true nature of his and his
crew’s livelihood. She had instructed Captain Wylie to commandeer for her the fastest ship that he could and the Captain had taken her at her word. Why the Tranet had been berthed at the Vada port in the first place Lynsey deemed it politic not to ask. It did emerge during the voyage that Captain Wylie had paid the Captain a large number of gold crowns for his trouble, a revelation that only served to place credence on Lynsey’s belief that their transport was indeed used for more nefarious purposes than the transportation of legal merchandise between islands and mainland.
* * * * *
At Port Lutterell Paul and Benya led their Ryzck, the Forty-fifth, up the gangplank and on to the deck of their designated transport. They were off to war, to fight the battle the Vada had been preparing for all these years since the last time. The two of them stood on deck as the other thirty-four pairs of their Ryzck scrambled aboard.
First up were Terez and Danei, the Holad pair, then Robain and Balindifya who were responsible for communications. During a battle, this pair would not only keep in touch with the members of the Ryzck but would also relay messages to and from the Command Post. The young man looked determined and resolute, as did the others who followed Balindifya aboard.
Once the Ryzck had boarded, others requested permission to join them, those members of Ryzcks who had been on leave in Argyll and were returning to the Stronghold (among whom Paul recognised Jen, Trnslei, Tamir and Whalya of the Third Ryzck). This was the last boat. Sundry late arrivals from the Garda were also boarding.
The last to jump down on to the deck was a young woman accompanied by three Lind, one of which Paul decided must be the longest-legged he had ever seen.
She came to attention in front of Paul and saluted.
