by Candy Rae
A squad of men was despatched to try and find the missing boat. A second squad was sent to retrieve the rest. It took some time to start them because the power leads of the simple engines had been disconnected, but by mid-afternoon they set off, overtaking the two search parties that had been ordered to search along the riverbanks on foot.
That evening the missing boat was found lodged under an overhanging tree, but, confusing the issue, there were no tracks leading away from it. Michael Wallace’s people had done their work well. Incidentally, he was almost as good an actor as Anne was an actress. No one even remotely suspected Duchesne’s bleary-eyed sergeant of nefarious deeds when he emerged from his bed nursing what was, to all intents and purposes, a monumental hangover.
As dusk fell, when Henri Cocteau realised the missing four had been nowhere near the river, a chance comment brought Gerry’s disappearance to his attention (he had not been present when the overseer had made his initial report) and he was much quicker on the uptake than the others. He immediately moved the search parties to the animal corrals and beyond, but it was way too late, by then it was dark and raining hard. The downpour had obliterated any tracks and if the five had gone that way, it was as if they had disappeared into thin air.
When questioned, Anne continued to play the distraught mother, one minute demanding the Lords return her children, the next screaming that they were dead or kidnapped. Of her muttered ramblings whilst under the influence of the periodic sedatives she was given, neither Ulla Pederson nor old Doctor Arthur Kurtheim said a word.
“She must know something,” insisted the cantankerous Lord Gardiner. “Let me question her.”
“Such an action would be most unwise,” Doctor Arthur insisted. He then proceeded to warn the Lords, Baker and Gardiner in particular, that further questioning might have a harmful effect on her pregnancy, causing the child to be born prematurely with the risks inherent in such births.
The argument stopped and Doctor Arthur was not so politely requested to leave.
“My men have been searching north and to the east,” offered Duchesne, thinking it was about time he entered the conversation, “we have found nothing.”
“Do you think the north had anything to do with it?” asked Cocteau. “I mean, they have vanished so completely. Perhaps the Lind came and spirited them away and this Gerry, I can find no trace of him amongst the Electra prison records.”
“Indeed? You can’t have looked properly and many of the men changed their names during the first months.”
“There was however a crew livestock handler called Gerry Russell. He could have escaped the killing and then hidden himself amongst us.”
Sam Baker thought for a moment, “what Cocteau is suggesting makes a lot of sense. If this Gerry was a survivor from the Electra’s crew and there was a rescue mission composed of northerners and Lind, that would account for the fact that we can find no trace of them in the vicinity. We all know how fast the Larg can run and I don’t suppose the Lind are much different.”
“I don’t think we’ll catch them,” agreed Cocteau.
Gardiner had been listening; his face was growing red with rage.
“I will not be gainsaid I’m telling you. We hunt ‘til we find them,” Gardiner thumped the table hard in frustration.
“You can hunt away to your heart’s content but you shall not discuss this with Anne,” said Baker in a clipped accent. “I shall have words with her myself.”
He strode out of the room and, without knocking, entered Anne’s apartment. His words were direct and brutal.
“You think you are so clever, do you not?” he sneered.
Anne merely looked at him, which drove him to utter further angry words.
“The only thing saving your hide bitch is the fact that you are carrying this child. We shall find the runaways; never fear and when we do, you shall never see your children again. You will spend the remainder of your pregnancy here in these rooms under very close guard and another attendant will be allocated to you, one whom I trust to report any behaviour not to my liking.”
Anne lowered her face in a semblance of acquiescence; her heart however was brimming over with happiness. Sam Baker did not know about the Lind involvement with the escape; he might suspect but he did not know. He thought they were trying to get away on foot and were still close by. She hid her joy from him with a great deal of difficulty.
“Attend me woman,” Baker barked, “once the child is born, I shall decide what your future will be.”
With that threat he stalked out.
“The children are away,” Anne breathed joyously as she watched him leave, eyes lowered in the deference expected of her.
“You are a brave woman Anne Howard,” said Doctor Arthur, he had listened to the conversation from round the corner, “I know what you have done.”
All colour drained from Anne’s face.
Raising his arm to forestall any comment, he continued, “now, don’t worry, your secret is safe with Ulla and me. We shall not betray you.”
“How did you know?” faltered Anne.
“You muttered and worried about it all the time you were under sedation, but we made sure that no one was about. You could have left with them, I presume the Lind were involved?”
Anne nodded mutely.
“Then you could have gone and got away too, but you knew did you not that if you had, treaty or not, the Larg might well have attacked us?”
“There are innocent women and children here,” said Anne, “I have a conscience. I could not leave them here to die if the Larg came and there are some good men amongst you, no matter what you have done in the past. I had to stay, but I miss my children so much it’s breaking my heart.”
“Such bravery deserves more reward than you are likely to get,” Doctor Arthur said. “I know what it is to lose a child. I had children once myself. After I was sentenced I never saw them again.” He pulled out a faded likeness of three young children.
“See,” he said, showing them to Anne. “They will be adults by now, with children of their own and here I am on my own. You have a holo of yours?”
“Yes.”
“Keep it safe. You never know, perhaps you all will meet again one day.”
Ulla Pederson, standing guard at the door, coughed a warning.
“Someone is coming,” said Doctor Arthur, getting to his feet.
Anne felt comforted. It was good to have friends, especially when most of those around her were not so and especially when the returning visitor brought distasteful news. It was news she was expecting though not perhaps so soon. It was Sam Baker who had returned. He stomped through the door like a thunderclap.
“I have decided,” he declared, “and to hell with what the others might say.”
“You have decided what Lord Baker?” asked a super-polite Anne.
“That our wedding shall take place immediately,” Sam Baker informed Anne.
Anne sighed. She had expected something like this. Baker wanted to legitimise his position as leader of the Conclave and the most obvious method was to marry the mother of Murdoch’s future King.
“You will wish to make preparations,” he sneered, the tone and attitude he would use ever after with Anne, “of course, the marriage will not be consummated until after the child is born, but Lady Baker, you shall be tied both to me and this Kingdom of ours until you die.”
“Noon tomorrow,” he said as he stalked to the door.
* * * * *
The five escapees and their rescuers made their way northwards through the forest and slept throughout the following day. The second night they made their way out from the tree line and on to the scrubby grassland and the Lind edged into the steady lope that ate up the miles. Four nights later they reached the large forest on the coast where they felt much safer. They would reach the beaches in two days where their transport awaited them.
They met no one during their run north to the coast. The lands were deserted and, thought Gerry,
likely to remain so for some time to come.
“We noticed that on the way to Fort,” said Louis as they took another short rest when Gerry voiced his thoughts aloud. “Also, that the convicts will begin to die off. In twenty years or so the Kingdom’s population will be much smaller and they will cease to be such a threat, however well organised they are. Perhaps then there will be peace between us; at least that is Jim Cranston’s hope.”
* * * * *
Once on the boat, Aglaya edged towards Gerry who was standing at the taffrail of the ketch that had come for them. He was thinking deeply of the past and the future. His thoughts always travelled in Jessica Howard’s direction, despite his efforts to the contrary.
I am too old for her. She’s not sixteen until winter. Jessica would know by now that her brother and sister were on their way. Will she blame me for not getting her mother out? He was in a despondent mood, a mood Aglaya sensed.
“Gerry?”
His startled face turned to look at her. He had not heard her approach.
“Lost in thought,” he said by way of explanation. “My apologies, I didn’t realise you were here.”
“I sense sad thoughts,” she began, “You wish talk about it?”
“That’s very kind of you,” he said with a small smile, “but it’s, well, a personal thing. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Like that is it?” she said with a gentle wag of her tail, “you look like a young Lind who has found his eln and does not know what to do about it.”
“Eln?”
“Mate, loved one,” she explained. “Like you, we Lind have only one eln in our life.”
“You are very perceptive,” said Gerry with some surprise.
“If female love you?”
“That’s what I don’t know,” he managed to get out, “and it’s tearing me apart! I thought of her all the time in the south. She is very young, too young for me.”
“Has this female fourteen summers?”
“She’ll be sixteen come winter.”
“Then what is problem? She is adult.”
“She needs someone her own age,” said Gerry, determined not to look at the bright side of things.
Aglaya snorted.
“Love know no age barrier. Who is the female? Is it the one who at Ratvei rtath?”
“I think so, yes, her name is Jessica.”
“You must not lose hope,” she finished, turning away, “perhaps Jessica waits for you?”
Gerry chuckled.
“Perhaps, but I’m not holding out much hope.”
He turned his gaze back to watch the water speeding by.
They reached the north without any problem. The children were quiet, Cherry especially so; she spent the voyage with Baltvei, his presence a comfort to her. Louis and Ustinya had no doubts that Cherry and Baltvei were forming a genuine partnership.
* * * * *
CHAPTER 13 - VADATH
Francis McAllister opened the sealed package carefully and in the privacy of his quarters. Laura looked up from Faddei’s harness that she was mending.
“That’s something one doesn’t see every day,” she said. “Who’s writing to you?” In Vadath, most messages were sent telepathically.
“It’s from the south,” he answered. Louis Randall gave it to me when he reported for duty.”
“Are the children all right?” she asked, “I meant to be there to welcome them but I fell asleep.”
Francis smiled indulgently at his pregnant wife, she would always want to know how people were, it was, he knew, part of her healer make-up.
“Should I go to them?” She put the harness aside and prepared to heave her unwieldy body out of the couch.
“It’s very late love, best leave it ‘til morning.”
Francis opened the seal of the letter, unfolded the thin paper and began to read. He whistled in surprise. “What a turn up,” he said as he turned to her, “you’ll not believe this.”
“Talk,” ordered an impatient Laura.
“It’s no less than a proposal of friendship and from one of the main convict leaders! He’s looking to the future and is wanting a trade, information and intelligence in exchange for a promise that, if things get too hot for him, he can bring his family north.”
“Is it addressed to you?”
“No. It’s a message to ‘our rulers’. I think however that the only other person I shall tell is Jim Cranston. Louis will keep it to himself if I tell him to. I don’t think this should become common knowledge.”
“What else does he say?” asked Laura with interest.
“It’s about his disquiet at what is happening down there, amongst the Lords.”
“Lords? That’s a bit rich, they are criminals, every last one of them!”
“He informs us he rules the far north west corner of the country, as far away as possible from what he calls the ‘intrigue and unpleasantness’ at Fort. He also states that the south is planning further attacks. We should guard our coasts.”
“So Jim was right?”
“So it would appear,” answered Francis as he digested the import of the message.
“Does he say when?”
“Soon.”
Francis’s eyes grew distant as he communicated with Asya then his eyes focused back on his wife.
“Lindars and Vada are warned,” he informed her as he looked again at the document in his hands, “I wish he had told us more.”
“Perhaps he doesn’t know.”
“Perhaps he is playing a game with us. Why should we trust him? Can we trust him?”
“Gerry might be able to tell us more,” answered Laura, settling back in the couch in a vain attempt to ease her aching back.
When Gerry arrived he could tell Francis little.
“The Lords don’t tell ordinary mortals much,” he informed him, cheerfully tucking into his stew. “I do know that Cocteau’s encampment is dispersing. Men are being, I think the official term is – ‘reallocated’. Some of the worst scum were taken north to Brentwood’s Lordship.”
“Brentwood?”
“Nasty piece of work from all I heard.”
“And Duchesne?” pressed Francis. “Can we trust him?”
“I think so, he stuck his neck out to help us escape from Fort. Anne Howard trusts him and I’ve spoken to his right-hand man once or twice.”
“We think he is the one who burnt the men alive during the battle.”
“I heard about that,” Gerry admitted, “but it was not his doing according to those I spoke to, he sure got rid of the officer that ordered it fast enough when they got home. I would still tread very carefully with him though.”
“Would he welcome an emissary?”
“I think so. He is desperately worried about his position and what the other Lords are doing. Made a comment to Anne about not wanting to bring up his family in a totalitarian state.”
“He wishes to come north then,” Francis said.
“Eventually, but not yet,” said Gerry. “His land is far from Fort, near the island chain. He will try to distance himself and might well succeed though I wouldn’t place any bets on his chances long-term.”
“He says that in his letter. Offers to warn us if the Larg try to cross.”
“Give the man a chance,” interjected Laura, “you have with Richard.”
Gerry looked enquiringly at her.
“One of our more recent recruits,” she explained, “an ex-convict taken prisoner and now irrevocably life-paired with a Lind. We have learned not all southerners are bad through and through.”
“Those serving time for capital offences are in the minority,” Gerry admitted, “though most have been in trouble most of their lives. I think the prison authorities on Earth merely emptied their penal institutions with a sigh of relief. They have doctors, farmers, lawyers, everyone they need.”
“Except for females and children?”
“One doesn’t see many and talking about women and children, when do we l
eave?”
Correctly interpreting this (Francis was deep in thought about the implications of Pierre Duchesne’s letter) Laura answered, “the two girls and the horses are at pack or rtath Ratvei. The girls know you’re coming and are wildly excited. You know young Jenny Quirke has bonded with a Lind of the pack the girls are staying with?”
Gerry nodded. “Not Jessica though.” His face glowed as he mentioned her name and Laura began to harbour private suspicions about the man’s feelings for Peter Howard’s elder daughter, but she contented herself with answering the question.
“No. She doesn’t seem interested. Not every human is. Her children probably will though, the ability seems to run in families and Francis says that Cherry and Baltvei are as good as vadeln-paired and even young Joseph is showing signs.”
“It was quite amazing,” declared Gerry, “watching the bonding develop before my very eyes and Aglaya was nosing round Joseph too. But to get back to my original question?”
“During the next few days,” promised Laura. “Francis is arranging it. He wants you to detour to Afanasei, Jim Cranston has a great deal to ask.”
“He is your Commander?”
“He and his Lind Larya are Susyc of the north,” Laura agreed. “Francis and Asya are Susa here at the Vada.”
“I’ll learn all these new terms yet,” laughed Gerry.
“He and Larya are most interested to learn about Pierre Duchesne’s letter and want to pick your brains. Don’t be surprised to hear from Robert Lutterell in Argyll as well. He wants to know what happened to the women taken during the battle,” said Francis.
“Never saw a one.” Gerry shook his head. “Not surprising really where I was and I never felt the need to visit the whorehouses and unless they are young and pretty, that’s where they’ll be. The youngest and prettiest got snapped up sharpish.”
