The Coravian Conflict (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 5)

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The Coravian Conflict (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 5) Page 32

by Loren K. Jones


  The cat gave him a bored look, then licked its paw.

  Kalin saw that the cat was a nursing mother and made an educated guess as to why she was there. “May I offer you a doe to feed your kits?” he asked, and now the great cat looked interested. Kalin bowed, and went to his horse. He untied the rope holding his deer behind his saddle and dropped it in the snow, then dragged it over to the Ocellen.

  The cat stood as he approached, and he prayed to Lady Sahren that he was doing the right thing. I’d hate to be killed for trying to be nice. Stopping, he bowed deeply and said, “Please accept this as a token of friendship.”

  The Ocellen came forward and used her head to push Kalin aside in what could be a rough caress, then grabbed the doe in her massive jaws and carried it away.

  Kalin watched her go, then walked back to the rest of the hunting party. “Bet you’ve never seen a live Ocellen before.”

  “Are you insane?” Willow whisper-shouted as she stood glaring at him in an aggressive pose.

  “Yes.”

  Willow glared at him in silence for a moment, then asked, “What now?” in a normal, if slightly exasperated, tone.

  Kalin looked at her and grinned. “Well, until we can catch your horse, it looks like you’re riding pillion behind me.”

  All of the troopers were looking at them as Kalin mounted and then helped Willow up behind him.

  “Corporal Bel’Terran, I think we should head back toward the fort. Private Kel’Narvan’s horse headed that way. And I don’t want to encounter another Ocellen. She was just a nursing mother looking for food. I don’t want to meet the father.” Everyone nodded, and the corporal led the way.

  As both moons were now hidden by low clouds, they stopped when it became dangerous to keep riding. Each had brought a one-man tent--but Willow’s was with her horse. Kalin’s tent was bigger than enlisted issue, so he gave it to Willow and the other female archer and took the archer’s small tent.

  One of the raiders who was along for the hunt said, “You’re a disappointment, sir. I’d have bet that you’d take that archer into your tent for the night.”

  Kalin looked at the man and said, “I wouldn’t dare, Del’Incar. Military regulations aside, do you have any idea what my mom would do to me if--no when she found out? I can hardly ask a girl back home where she’s from without a rumor starting that we’re betrothed.”

  Private Del’Incar shook his head and muttered, “There are worse fates, sir.”

  They reached Fort Zel’Hardan before the middle of the next day. Willow’s borrowed mount had made it back the day before. Everyone delivered their deer to the supply officer, then went to their barracks.

  Kalin hadn’t even finished bathing when Dahral burst in asking, “An Archer?”

  Kalin looked at his expression and asked, “What are you talking about?”

  “Everyone’s saying you bedded down with an Archer out there.”

  Kalin began reciting every curse-word he knew as he finished his bath. He was dressed when Major Zel’Carvan came for him.

  “You’d better have a damn good story for the general, or your brother is going to be the next king because you’re going to be kicked out of the Army.”

  Kalin stuttered and stammered, but didn’t manage to say anything coherent as the major grabbed his arm and forcibly hauled him to his feet. What in the five hells is going on?

  “Sir, Major Zel’Carvan reporting with Lieutenant Zel’Andral as ordered.”

  The general slowly rose to his feet and just glared at Kalin for a moment. His eyebrows looked like thunder-clouds looming over his eyes, foretelling a tempest in the future.

  “Lieutenant Zel’Andral, it has been reported that during your hunting trip you engaged in illegal sexual activities with Archer Willow Kel’Narvan. It is a breach of the Army Code of Conduct for an officer to fraternize with an enlisted soldier. It is a breach of Army Ethics to use your rank to coerce an enlisted soldier to comply with your desires. It is a breach of the Code of the Chosen for you, as a member of a Royal Clan to engage in such conduct with a member of a lesser Clan without the approval of the King. How do you plead?”

  Kalin kept his back as straight as an arrow as he replied, “Sir, I plead innocent of all of these charges.”

  “So why is it being reported that Archer Kel’Narvan spent the night in your tent? Is that a lie?”

  “Sir, no, Sir. Archer Kel’Narvan’s tent was lost with her horse, so I had Archer Fel’Delery trade with me. Archer Fel’Delery and Archer Kel’Narvan shared my tent since it was larger, and I used Archer Fel’Delery’s tent, Sir.”

  The door opened and Captain Zel’Kerval entered with a very concerned-looking Willow Kel’Narvan. “Sir, Captain Zel’Kerval reports with Archer Private Kel’Narvan as ordered, Sir.”

  The general looked at the woman and his expression softened. “Private, you are not in trouble. We just need some information. Can you answer some questions for us?”

  Willow remained at attention as she answered, “Sir, yes, Sir.”

  The general took a deep breath as if to calm himself, then asked, “Private Kel’Narvan, did you have sexual relations with Lieutenant Zel’Andral during your hunting trip?”

  Willow looked puzzled, then said, “Sir, no, sir.” Everyone except Kalin looked surprised by her answer.

  “Did you spend the night with Lieutenant Zel’Andral in his tent?”

  “Sir, no, Sir.”

  Now the general was looking confused. “Did you spend the night in his tent at all?”

  “Sir, yes, Sir. With Private Bana Fel’Delery. The lieutenant gave us his tent because it was big enough for two while he took her tent. Begging the general’s pardon, Sir, but I have already heard these rumors. They are lies.”

  “So, the lieutenant didn’t pressure you into having sex with him?”

  “Sir, no, Sir.”

  The general pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. “Did you have sex with him at all?”

  Now Willow looked almost amused. “Sir, that would never happen. I am exclusively Le’ah.”

  Now the general put his head in both hands and said, “You two are dismissed.” He waited until Kalin and Willow had left before saying, “Find out why I just spent a span acting like an ass and embarrassing myself and two of my people. And when you find out who started that rumor, send him home. I don’t even want to know who he is. Dismissed.”

  * * *

  Outside, Kalin was looking at Willow. “I am going to kick Del’Incar’s stones off.”

  “No, Sir. He’s mine,” she snarled back, then they both strode toward the Raider’s stable. There was a large group of Raiders gathered near the back.

  Willow bellowed, “Del’Incar!” and the man looked up. As soon as he saw who it was, he bolted for the back of the stable. He didn’t make it. Two other troopers grabbed and held him while Kalin and Willow walked the length of the stable.

  Willow almost shouted, “I turned you down, so decided to take revenge by starting rumors about me and the lieutenant? You stinky little turd!”

  Sergeant Bel’Neven stepped out in front of Kalin and said, “Sir, you need to not be here.”

  “Sergeant, I--”

  “No, Sir. You really need to be elsewhere.”

  Kalin looked the sergeant in the eye, then turned and walked away. He was in his room several spans later when Dahral caught up with him.

  “Pity about Trooper Del’Incar.”

  “Pity?”

  Dahral nodded and sat down. “Yes. Apparently, he got kicked by his horse. He went right through the gate on his stall. The Healers say he’ll be all right eventually, but he’s being sent home. He’s past his two years, so it’s no problem. It’ll take a year or two for him to heal up all the way.”

  Kalin nodded and said, “Pity.” But my hands are clean. Damn it.

  Winter passed quietly. Training was mostly restricted to classroom instruction on everything from tactics to camp hygiene. Dahral and Kalin spent a
lot of time working on the sword skills of their troopers. All of the Raiders were required to be proficient at sword, bow, and javelin, afoot and from horseback.

  The area that held the Gel’Hal fields during the warm moons was turned into a target field. The troops had cleared a wide path along one side, in front of the targets. The Raiders were joined by the rebuilt Scouts and most of the officers. The Cavalry had their own targets to practice against with their heavy lances.

  “Men,” Major Zel’Carvan said loudly, “most of you know the drill. Ten arrows at the gallop, then five lances.” He gestured toward the line of targets. “On me!” he finally shouted and led the way at a gallop. Behind him his troopers showed their skill.

  Kalin was third in line, behind Dahral. He gripped the stallion with his knees and shot at all ten targets. He didn’t hit any center rings, but he did hit every target. Then he switched to the lance, and his aim improved. Every lance struck close to the center of the target, and three of five stuck in the center ring.

  The major rode in a large circle and ended where he had begun. He was nodding in satisfaction as he checked the targets. One hundred and three arrows had been shot at each target, and while there was a scattering of arrows in the dirt around each target, they were few. The arrows weren’t marked, so only the men who missed knew who they belonged to.

  The exception to that was the officers. The arrows of the officers were marked with yellow bands of paint below the fletching. One for the major, two for Dahral, and three for Kalin. As they rode along the route, Sergeant Bel’Neven retrieved the officers’ arrows and shouted the score, one through five. Unsurprisingly, the major won, and Dahral came in second. Then the score for the lances was announced. Kalin beat the major by one point.

  Major Zel’Carvan looked at his young officers and said, “Excellent! Well done, both of you.”

  That praise was the high point of the winter for both of them.

  * * *

  “Did we look that green?” Kalin asked Dahral as they looked across the fort. Four young men and one young woman in pristine new lieutenant’s uniforms waited on the porch outside the general’s office.

  Dahral grunted. “Probably.”

  They turned and went into the Raiders’ stable to await their orders. Major Zel’Carvan met them there. “Gentlemen, I am pleased to tell you that Dahral is past his two-year requirement and may now add a pip to his insignia. I am even more pleased to announce that his request to stay with the Raiders has been approved, so I am keeping both of you.” He paused to smile widely at his men.

  “We are being sent out along the border in five days. We’ll be receiving twenty new troopers, so you’ll each receive ten of them. I’ve already given Sergeant Bel’Neven the new rosters.”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  The major turned away and Kalin turned toward Dahral again before offering his hand. “Congratulations, Dahral.”

  Dahral clasped Kalin by the forearm in a clasp of equals. “Thank you, Kal. Here comes Bel’Neven with our greens.”

  The two lieutenants were waiting at attention when Sergeant Bel’Neven marched up to them and came to attention. “Sirs, our new troopers are ready for inspection, Sirs.”

  Dahral said, “Very well, Sergeant. Let’s see what we have.” Dahral led with Kalin a step behind him. As he faced each man he demanded, “Name!” each man gave his name and Sergeant Bel’Neven read off a stable assignment.

  Dahral finished by introducing Kalin. “My junior lieutenant is Kalin Zel’Andral.” Several of the men reacted to Kalin’s name, and Dahral snapped, “Attention! Yes, that Kalin Zel’Andral. In years to come you will be able to say you served directly under the king. But for now, you will be indoctrinated by the good sergeant and introduced to your mounts.” Turning, he said, “Sergeant, take charge.”

  “Sir, yes, Sir!” the sergeant nearly shouted. Then he turned to the men and did shout. “You will do what you are told, when you are told, and how you are told. The reason why is because that’s the Army way. Each of you is being assigned a mentor.” He raised his right hand and waved the men forward. “These men know what they are doing. You don’t! Obey them and you will be fine. Disobey them and you will be mine. Cadre, take charge.”

  Dahral and Kalin stepped back and went to the Raiders’ office. Major Zel’Carvan met them there.

  “He enjoys that too much,” the major said with a chuckle. “We will be heading west along the border. The 16th Cavalry will be going east. These maps are our guide.” He pointed at the border on the maps. “The purpose of this expedition is a show of strength. It is more to reassure our people than fight the Farindians. Unless we get lucky.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Dahral said as he traced the line on the map. “Doesn’t look like very rough territory.”

  “It isn’t,” the major replied. “This is all for show. There have been some complaints in Twin Bridges that the Army isn’t doing enough to keep our people safe.”

  Kalin grumbled, “Bet it’s the same people who complain about how much the Army costs.”

  Dahral nodded. “They want a smaller Army, but then complain when we aren’t everywhere at once. Dad had to listen to that horse crap all the time.”

  “Mine as well,” Kalin murmured. “And from the King’s Council, who are supposed to know better.”

  “The winter was fairly mild, so we haven’t had any real trouble with bandits. Not in our sector, at least. Now look concerned as you leave. Make the new men worry.”

  Both lieutenants schooled their features into scowls and marched through the stables, past the troopers and off to the officers’ quarters.

  Five days later they rode out and traveled north toward Farindia. Major Zel’Carvan gave his orders once they split off from the cavalry.

  “Keep the force together, but spread out a little. Keep two lengths between you and the man in front of you. You men mentoring the new troopers, stay beside your trainee. Lieutenant Zel’Andral, take the rear guard.”

  Kalin didn’t like the assignment, but he didn’t say anything about it. Such was Army life. He took the very last position in the second company next to one of the new men.

  The man looked sideways at him and whispered, “It is good to see you again, Your Highness.”

  “Have we met?”

  “Yes, Your Highness. It’s me, Frel Del’Corvan.”

  Kalin gaped at the boy. “Frel? Gods Above, you must have grown two hands taller over the winter.”

  “Near enough, Your Highness.”

  “Lieutenant here, Frel. Regulations. It’s good to see you, in any case. Now watch the surroundings. We don’t expect trouble, but that’s when it usually pops up.”

  Frel stiffened in his saddle and said, “Yes, Sir.”

  The ride was long and tedious, but at least there was no dust. The Raiders spent twenty-seven days on the border before turning south and picking up the road again. From there it was just thirteen days back to Fort Zel’Hardan.

  Kalin had bent regulations a little by letting his men know that he knew Frel from home. That helped the man a little. The troopers had come to like their lieutenant as well as respect him.

  Their return to the fort was just the beginning of their activity for the summer. Kalin and Dahral were once again pressed into service as sword instructors.

  One of the new lieutenants, Malkin Zel’Faril, was openly contemptuous of swords. “A real man uses a real weapon, like my ax,” he declared when he was sent for some sword instruction.

  Kalin bristled, but it was Dahral who said, “In the circle, lieutenant.”

  Dahral had a practice sword in his hand as the younger man joined him with a practice ax. “Standard drill. Begin.”

  Malkin brought his ax to ready, but Dahral moved like lightning. His practice sword was a blur as he proceeded to smack the fool a hand of times. Malkin fell backwards out of the circle clutching his arm and ribs.

  “You can’t do that to me! I challenge you!”

  “As you w
ere, Lieutenant!” Captain Zel’Markan shouted. He’d come over to see how his young lieutenant fared against the Raiders officers.

  “Sir, he--”

  “I said as you were!” the captain bellowed.

  “I am Malkin Zel’Faril, eldest son of Hardal Zel’Faril, Lord of Zel’Faril!”

  “And he,” the captain shouted, “is a senior lieutenant as well as being the eldest son and Heir by Right of Lord General Dahlvan Zel’Fordal. You were sent here to learn sword. I specifically ordered you to leave your ax behind.”

  The angry young lieutenant stood with his legs spread, flexing his hands around a non-existent weapon until his eyes fell on Kalin. “You--”

  Major Zel’Carvan growled, “Don’t even think about starting anything with him,” as he walked forward.

  “I am--”

  “Nothing,” the major interrupted. “You are a first-year lieutenant with less than two moons in uniform. Lieutenant Zel’Andral is a second-year lieutenant as well as being the first-born son of King Ordan.”

  Shifting his attention to Captain Zel’Markan he said, “You need to teach this one the basics. He knows too little to make him worth my men’s time.”

  To the obvious shock of the angry young lieutenant, his captain came to attention and said, “Yes, Sir.” Turning to face the lieutenant, he pointed out of the stable and said, “Lieutenant Zel’Faril, return to the Infantry Squad room and await my arrival.”

  The lieutenant snapped to attention, bowed slightly to his commanding officer, and stamped out of the stable.

  Captain Zel’Markan sighed, then shook his head and muttered, “This is going to be a long summer.” Then he followed his junior officer.

  The summer flew by for Kalin. Before he knew it, they were once again headed out to reinforce the border for the harvest.

  This time, Kalin was left with one hundred soldiers under his command in the city of Zel’Kardan. It was one of the largest cities in this part of Evandia, as well as being the family seat of the Zel’Kardan lands.

 

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