Conflict and Courage

by Candy Rae

  “What fun?” Emily asked as she veered towards him, dismounted and began to release the straps of Ilyei’s harness. Jim and Larya had led them south with all speed, only stopping once to hunt; Ilyei had expressed his need to do so again in no uncertain terms that very morning by demanding ‘good fresh meat,’ with the emphasis on the second word.

  : I go now : he announced, shook himself and began to move away : I find you later Emily :

  He loped away, eager to avail himself of the nearby zarova herds. Emily watched him go, marvelling anew at the grace and inherent strength of her life-partner. She was convinced that he was the most handsome Lind of all; a sentiment shared by all human partners for their Lind.

  “Why, the arrival of the Weaponsmaster of course!” answered Brian. “He and Mislya arrived yesterday with Geraldine, Jsei and my brother Louis and Ustinya. There have been other new vadeln-pairs arriving as well, cadets like us.”

  “Help me with my packs,” said Emily as she bent down and picked up the one on the top. “I can’t manage them and harness both.”

  “You do have a lot,” Brian agreed, reaching to help her.

  “Most of it is medical supplies for Laura from your father.”

  “I’ll help you over with it once you’ve got your own things into the barracks,” Brian promised. He pointed with his free hand towards an almost finished building. “The Holad section is over there. Laura will probably still be on her rounds at the moment, showing the new doctor where everything is and introducing him to everyone.”

  “What new doctor?”

  “He arrived the other day. Francis persuaded one from the ship that he was needed here, how he managed it I can only guess.”

  “Isn’t he bonded with a Lind?”

  “No, at least not yet. Seems to be a decent sort of chap though.”

  “And the Weaponsmaster?”

  “I’ve not met him yet,” Brian admitted, “he’s been closeted with Francis.”

  “Does he have family?”

  “On their way, some vadeln-pairs have gone to fetch them.”

  The two reached the cadet quarters and Brian stopped.

  “This is the cadet barracks. Girls one side, boys the other.” He gestured to each with a wave of an arm.

  “Human or Lind?” asked Emily with dry humour.

  “Human of course, nitwit. Does it matter? Most of the grown-ups have their own dagas outside in the woods although some do have permanent quarters here.”

  Emily nodded. She and Ilyei had noticed evidence of this on their way in. “There’s not really room for everybody within the walls,” she agreed.

  “Not every vadeln-pair wants to live inside either,” answered Brian, “you’ll soon find it’s not exactly private.”

  When Emily entered the dim passageway inside the cadet barracks on the girl’s side she could only agree. As she claimed an unoccupied cubicle she wondered how she and Ilyei would manage living in such close proximity to the other cadets after so many months of the privacy of their own daga at Afanasei.

  As Brian helped her put her things away he continued to chatter. “It’s good that you have come now,” he said, “with the numbers that are expected, the back barn has been fitted out with temporary accommodation and, if you think these are cramped …”

  “This is not?” asked Emily.

  “Compared with the barn my friend, these cubicles are five-star!”

  Emily’s eyebrows rose.

  “Your harness goes there,” Brian said, pointing to the hooks on the wall. “I’ve managed to scrounge extra chairs and put up some more shelves. I’ll do the same for you if you like.”

  “Yes please,” answered Emily with a smile of thanks. “It’s so very …”

  “Spartan?”

  “Exactly.”

  He stopped and a distant expression came over his face.

  “Sofiya says two more new people are on their way in,” he told her with a resigned grin. “I’ll go get them and bring them here. Then we can all have some lunch.” He sped off.

  Emily picked up the two remaining packs. “I’d better take these over to Laura,” she called after his departing heels. “I can manage, you’ve been great looking after me like this.”

  “What are friends for? Come back here when you’ve finished and I’ll show you round some more, the cookhouse bell will be ringing soon.”

  Making her way to the Holad cabins, Emily hoped Laura wouldn’t keep her long; it was not only Ilyei who was very hungry.

  * * * * *

  “Do we know the approximate ages of all the cadets?” Wilhelm Dahlstrom asked Francis as he, Jim and the Susa ate their own luncheon in the office complex. The three human commanders of the cadet troops were also present.

  Francis handed him the roster.

  The Weaponsmaster took one look at it. “I must admit that I did not expect so many,” was his dry comment.

  “One hundred and eleven all told with more coming in,” said Francis.

  “We never said that it would be easy,” interposed Jim Cranston. “Have you come to any decision about how you’re going to split them up?”

  “Geraldine and I discussed it on our way in, young Louis Randall too when he and Ustinya joined us, three classes, the under sixteens, sixteen to eighteen and then the adults. If we do that and jiggle the timetable a bit, I think we can accommodate them all.”

  “You’ve still to fit in the active vadeln-pairs, hone their skills.”

  “I won’t forget.”

  “Don’t forget the smaller ones either,” added Nell who had the very youngest in her charge, “they can’t be expected to have the same strengths as the bigger ones. It might be better if they are kept completely separate.”

  Jim pulled the timetable towards him. “Pretty comprehensive, they won’t get much free time will they?”

  “I’ve got to get as many ready for active duty as fast as possible,” answered Francis.

  “Are you still going to accept the under eighteens for active duty if Wilhelm here says they are ready?” asked Jim.

  “I have to.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I but I don’t have a choice.”

  Francis turned to Geraldine, “and are you sure that you and Jsei can manage all the riding classes on top of your other duties?”

  “I think so,” she answered, “so long as Ross and Lililya can manage the younger ones on alternate mornings.”

  They then moved on to a more detailed discussion about the best way to allocate the available instructors to the classes.

  * * * * *

  The morning after Emily and Ilyei’s arrival, the Weaponsmaster met two of his future pupils.

  Brian and Emily were on their way to the cookhouse for breakfast and saw him standing indecisively outside his new quarters.

  Emily poked Brian in the ribs.

  “It’s the Weaponsmaster,” she whispered sotto voce. “He looks a bit lost. Do you think we should offer to help?”

  But Wilhelm had spotted them. “You there,” he called, “are you on your way to the cookhouse?”

  “Yes Weaponsmaster,” answered Brian. “We are going for breakfast.”

  “If you would care to join us?” invited Emily shyly.

  He most certainly did, supper with Jim Cranston had been a long time ago and this seemed to be a good opportunity to see what sort of youngsters he would be dealing with.

  They walked for a few moments in silence. Emily and Brian didn’t quite know what to say and Wilhelm was in a deep study.

  “What age are you boy?” asked Wilhelm with a suddenness that they would learn was natural to him.

  “Fourteen, Weaponsmaster,” answered Brian.

  “Ever held a sword?”

  Brian shook his head and Wilhelm turned to Emily.

  “You girl?”

  Emily reddened. “I’m fifteen Weaponsmaster and I have used a sword. Ilyei and I were part of the communications pivot during the battle to
gether with Tara and Kolyei. We nearly died there when the Larg broke through. My friend Thomas did die and his Lind Stasya death-wished afterwards.”

  She spoke matter-of-factly about her loss. The doubts Wilhelm still entertained about his coming to the Vada began to recede.

  Emily proceeded to go into further details of her and Tara’s experiences.

  “Sounds as if you really need me here,” he murmured to himself as they reached the cookhouse. For the first time he said it with something like conviction in his voice.

  : At last : said Mislya.

  His private meeting with Francis McAllister later that morning (after Brian had taken him for a guided tour of the complex) was encouraging.

  “I’ll need assistants and I myself will have to learn how to fight from Mislya’s back,” Wilhelm informed the Susa. “I can start training dismounted immediately.”

  “I was rather hoping you would say that,” said Francis, “and I’ll train you myself until you’re happy alindback and ready to take the mounted lessons, Geraldine and I will do the riding classes. Nell too, she’s rather good. Are you going to use Ross to help teach the sword-work?”

  “Ross?”

  “Yes, tall man with greying brown hair. You met him yesterday.”

  “I’ll try him out tomorrow,” said Wilhelm, “first though, I’ve got to complete the alterations to my quarters. Mislya has most definite ideas about what is right and proper for a Lind of her station. I think I’ll abscond with these two cadets I met a while ago to help.” Francis looked blank.

  When Mislya and he had been escorted to his quarters on their arrival she had been quick to pass comment.

  “I have spent many a season sleeping in airy daga with wind in my fur and air fresh to breathe. I not wish to live inside.”

  “It’ll be much warmer inside,” Wilhelm coaxed.

  “It will make me soft,” she retorted. “I have the position as vadeln to Weaponsmaster of Vada to uphold.” She stretched up to her full height and with understandable pride.

  She pointed at the west side of the cabin with one elegant paw. “Build our daga there,” she ordered, “and appreciate if there are no leaks. I not like to sleep wet. Human forepaws are good at making dry dagas.” She looked at Wilhelm with a most winsome expression on her face and all his arguments melted away. He promised the daga would be complete if not by nightfall then by the following day.

  Brian and Emily helped him willingly enough until eventually even Mislya announced herself satisfied.

  “It will be good to start training,” said Brian as he helped Wilhelm sweep the daga clean of wood fragments prior to bringing in the fresh rush matting for Mislya’s bed.

  “You will be training for battle,” said Wilhelm. “Practice and then more practice until you are ready.” He nodded and stepped away; he had an appointment with Ross. He wished to discuss the possibility of Ross being appointed his second if he came up to his exacting standards.

  Wilhelm had watched Ross in training the previous evening when some of the Vada had given their Weaponsmaster a short demonstration of how they had fought up until now. Wilhelm had said little but had decided that of them all, Ross showed the most promise. The meeting was to try out his paces fighting dismounted.

  He needed an assistant to help him with the extensive training plan; there was not enough hours in the day for him to do it all himself without exhausting himself in the process. The training timetables were full to overflowing and he couldn’t be in two places at once.

  Ross was waiting in the practice field with trepidation. He knew full well why he had been summoned. He knew he was above average when riding Lililya in battle, but afoot and compared with Wilhelm Dahlstrom he was a rank amateur.

  After a strenuous workout, when Ross lost his sword to the Weaponsmaster no less than eight times, Wilhelm called a halt.

  “Good,” Wilhelm said. “Good. You have a natural talent for this kind of work. With practice you will be very good. Every morning before breakfast we will meet here and I will give you a thorough workout. The cadets will see nothing of this. When their formal practices begin you will assist me, thus you will learn more and also how to teach. Soon you will be ready to take classes on your own, to begin with, the juniors then with those who are older.”

  “I’ll do my best Weaponsmaster,” replied Ross, mopping his brow; the sweat streaming down his face. He had thought himself fit, but the hour-long bout with Wilhelm had proved otherwise. Wilhelm noticed this. He, himself, had not even broken sweat, “and you must get fitter. The Weaponsmaster and the Assistant Weaponsmaster never show their exhaustion to the pupils. Calm, cool and collected is what you must strive for. Your goal must be faster, fitter and better than all your pupils.”

  Ross looked his disbelief.

  “I think you will do just fine,” said Wilhelm with a sudden smile that lighted up his rather stern face. “Together we will make the Vada invincible. Training and practice. I will teach you and you and Lililya will teach Mislya and me how to fight cavalry style.”

  “I am your Assistant?”

  “Have I not said so? Now, let us begin,” Wilhelm announced and beckoned Mislya and Lililya over, “we have three weeks before the timetable commences. The cadets are arriving. Although there are more than enough jobs in the stronghold to keep them busy I think it best that they begin training as soon as we are ready. We will spend this time getting your skills honed and those of the other training officers. Now we will practice some more.”

  Ross sighed; it was obvious that rest wasn’t on the Weaponsmaster’s agenda.

  At the end of the most demanding lesson Ross had ever experienced, the two men sat down to talk. Francis and Asya joined them and Jim and Larya sauntered over.

  “We appreciate your decision to come here,” began Ross, stretching his long legs out on the turf, “if Francis here is right, the Vada will become the mainstay of the north’s defences. Those of us who followed Francis and Asya in the charge of the Lindars know what a near thing it was and how close we came to annihilation.”

  “Goodness knows I did my best,” said Francis, “but I’m not a professional. Fistfights were what I was good at on the ship. The first time I picked up a sword I admit I didn’t even know how to hold the blessed thing. All I knew was that the sharp end was the dangerous one.”

  Wilhelm guffawed. He appreciated the joke. He remembered Francis from the ship.

  “Asya and I worked out what to do between us,” continued Francis.

  “You did well for an amateur,” said Wilhelm, nodding his head. “Next time there is a battle your vadeln-pairs will be trained properly. Even the adults must practice and correct any bad habits. You will not lead untried and partly trained troops into battle again, I swear it.”

  “Next time?” ventured Ross.

  “Next time,” confirmed Francis. “Make no mistake about it. The Larg known as Aoalvaldr will be back.”

  “Robert Lutterell is keeping up his infantry training?”

  “He has problems, already some colonists are becoming complacent and it’s only been a few months.”

  “The rest of the Council don’t see the need for a permanent force,” said Jim. “They think part-time militia is enough, that there will be time to get organised. Robert is standing by his guns though. I only hope that when the time comes he will be ready.”

  “You don’t think they will be back this year?”

  “Who? The Larg?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not the Larg, no, but I think the convicts will.”

  “How do you work that out?” asked Wilhelm.

  “We questioned the prisoners. It’s not common knowledge yet, but we learned a lot from them, much of it unintentional on their part, I’m sure. One of their leaders is one called Brentwood. He’s built a dockyard just inland from the main river delta. One of the prisoners talked about boat plans; he had caught sight of boats with a narrow keel, sleek, slim and fast.”

  “Attack b
oats?”

  “That is my guess. Ever heard of an ancient people called Vikings?”

  Francis and Ross shook their heads.

  “I’ll put young Emily on to you. She is an avid devotee of history. She will explain how these marauders ravaged Europe’s coastlines in a time long ago, rowing ships whose hulls appear to resemble those Brentwood is building.”

  “Geraldine mentioned them at the farm and again during our journey here and I will speak to Emily,” promised Wilhelm. “She and Ilyei helped build Mislya’s daga.”

  Francis wriggled a bit and took out the much-crumpled timetable from his pocket. “Better have a last look at this before we copy it out.”

  “Regretting your offer to help?” asked Wilhelm.

  “I’ve spoken with Jim here,” he said with a tight grin ignoring the question, “and he has offered to help with tactics, at least to begin with, and Afanasei and the other three home rtath have offered their Lindars for battle practice. We shall manage.”

  * * * * *

  Two weeks later, after Laura had struggled long and hard to make sense of the scribbled timetable and make out three fair copies, Francis tacked one up on the cadet notice board. When the cadets returned hot and dusty from their chore sections, all thoughts of baths and food were forgotten as they jostled closer to see what it said.

  Brian was at the front of the crowd by dint of much pushing and shoving and announced the news, “it’s the timetable at last. We start lessons after rest day next week.”

  “Have we still got to do chores?” asked a voice from the back.

  “Of course we do you chump,” answered Brian, “you didn’t expect anything else did you?” He looked at the notice in more detail. “At least they have stopped the wall-building although volunteers are requested for this on the days classes end at noon.”

  There were disappointed groans though most recognised that the walls had to be built and that many other buildings were still not complete.

  “Well,” said Emily cheerfully through the tumult of voiced complaints and comments, “if anyone thought the Vada an easy option they must have realised by now the error of their ways.”