Homage and Honour (43 page)

“Radnya of
rtath Lvei?”

“She can talk
to me in my mind. She is beautiful and she wants me.”

“Tana, do you
feel the same about him?”

“Yes I do, more
so than ever.”

“It’s not
infatuation?”

“No
Weaponsmaster.”

“Do you know
what acceptance of Radnya would mean?” Rhian asked Philip. “Tana
and Tavei are linked together for life. You and Radnya, a life
commitment also, not just to Radnya but to Tana and Tavei as well.
Tavei and Radnya are mated or soon will be. A commitment to Vadath,
to the North, perhaps to fight against your father, your own
people.”

“That is not at
all likely Weaponsmaster,” argued Philip, “they are too concerned
with their own internal squabbles and the Larg to think that.”

I see. Now tell
me your appraisal of the Larg situation.”

“I don’t know
for sure, but there is something about their behaviour at the
moment. My father gets frequent reports. The border patrols have
noticed differences. One, there are less of them than there should
be. Two, they are younger, some not at full growth.”

Something
approaching déjà vu was hitting Rhian, something she had read
about, about the time of the Battle of Trumpet Keep.
Had not the
then Susa of the Vada, written of a similar occurrence?

“Come with me,”
Rhian commanded Philip and Tana, “we need to talk to Lynsey. Tadei
tells me that she and Bernei have returned from their inspection of
the coastal defences.”

“I should
punish you severely,” said Susa Lynsey to Tana some two bells
later, “but some good has come of your little escapade. We now know
that the Larg are planning something major.”

“Yes Susa.”

“Tell me again
what the Prince Consort told you.”

“He confirmed
the non-aggression pact and that he was sure the Larg were planning
a major attack on the North but where he did not know.”

“Anything else?
Think … this is important. We all know that they only tolerate the
existence of Murdoch. Are you sure that he didn’t think they were
going to attack them?”

“Definitely not
Susa. He said to warn you. Said that the Larg seemed pleased that
the winter has been so very hard and cold. Said they appeared smug
about it. He thought that strange. It’s been the coldest winter for
a long time; even the sea has frozen over in places. He believes
the Larg are planning something big.”

“I think that’s
the key to the whole thing, if only we could decipher what it
means. Let me think, what difference would a cold winter make?”

“Bad weather
would affect the herds, that wouldn’t please them,” offered
Rhian.

Lynsey was
looking at Tana as if she had seen a ghost.

“What did you
say about the seas?”

“That they are
freezing,” answered a mystified Tana.

“What happens
when there is a lot of ice about?”

“We get cold,”
answered Bernei. He sounded amused.

“No, that’s not
what I meant. Think.”

It was Tadei
who put two and two together and made four of it.

“In a cold
season,” he began, “there is much more ice and snow. It is most
sore on the paws.” He grimaced at the memories of past discomforts.
The warm season should be almost here but it is not. It is still
most cold. The Ryzcks in the mountain sectors complain of the
extent of the ice even now.”

“But how would
that aid the Larg?” asked a puzzled Lynsey.

“The ice and
snow does affect elsewhere as well,” offered Rhian, speaking slowly
as she marshalled her thoughts. “The sea levels are lower that
usual and will remain so until the ice melts.”

“The ice
melts,” breathed Lynsey. “The ice is still in place though is it
not? I believe we might have found a clue to what the Larg are
planning!”

She turned to
Tana. “You are dismissed for the moment,” she said. “I will decide
your punishment later. Meanwhile you will relieve Ryzcka Melody
from her orderly officer duties.”

“Yes ma’am.”
Tana saluted and marched out of the office, wondering for how long
she would be ‘Orderly Dog’ as the orderly officer was nicknamed –
some considerable time she thought.

* * * * *

Tana headed
towards the building that was called the ‘Inner Sanctum’, the
peaceful room in the centre of the Stronghold where sat two large
leather-bound volumes.

One was the
‘Book of the Fallen’ in which all the names of those who had died
on duty were written together with a short résumé of their lives
and how they had died.

The other was
the ‘Honour Roll’, in which the names of those awarded the Honour
Star were beautifully written down in a skilled calligrapher’s
hand.

On her return
to Vadath, Tana had learned that the Black Star would be sent, as
was the custom, to Jess’s parents. It was to be sent on in the
diplomatic pouch of the Argyllian Ambassador to the Court of
Murdoch. Susa Lynsey also intended to write a quick note reporting
on the safe arrival of a ‘certain person’.

The Silver
Honour Star, such as Hannah and Beth wore on their uniforms, were
given to those who, in the face of danger, showed moral or physical
courage. The Black Honour Star was a posthumous award given to the
families of those who had died courageously on active service.

Tana knew that
however much Anne and David might treasure the Star they would
treasure more Jess’s Ryzck badge that she had given them, glad that
their eldest daughter’s promise to her sister had been kept. Ruth
would not be required to make the lifelong sacrifice they, Annette
and Xavier continued to live.

As Tana stared
at Jess and Mlei’s names she realised that she had come to terms
with their deaths. Whatever lay ahead of her she could face with a
sense of acceptance. Jess’s dearest wish had come to pass. Tana’s
Quest was complete.

* * * * *

War (2)

Tana was called
back to Lynsey’s office early the next day.

“I would say
that the island chain between Argyll and Graham is more exposed
than usual,” offered Tana, in answer to her Susa’s first question,
“even the Avuzdel have mentioned it. The Ilyei Estuary fishermen
can’t get their fishing boats up to their wharf. Not enough
sea-room I think they said when we arrived.”

Susa Lynsey
nodded, comprehending that the worst fear of any Susa of the Vada
was about to be realised. Rhian smacked her fist into the palm of
her hand.

“Keep going
Tana, I think you’re on to something here,” ordered Lynsey.

“I’ve got it!”
interrupted Rhian. “There must be another way across the Middle
Sea. Another chain of islands. In the far west there are places
where the edge of the Southern Continent can be seen on a clear
day. The rocks go out a ways and there are many small islands
dotted around.”

“Another route
north and the Larg have found it? It doesn’t bear thinking about,”
groaned Lynsey.

“If there is
one, why not another, a route which is accessible only after a
series of extremely cold winters like we’ve been having? The ice
has formed further south than usual. The sea levels are low; there
is ice along the coasts, out a fair way from the land too.”

Lynsey shook
her head. “If there had been, the Larg would have found it before
now.”

“Not
necessarily true,” Rhian disagreed. “Why should they? The
Argyll-Graham chain was handy, closer to their pack lands and
passable during the winter storms. That way is closed to them now.
I think we must assume that they have been spending the last years,
decades even, searching for another viable route and now, thanks to
the inordinately cold weather, they have found one. That is why
they had no need to ‘persuade’ the King and the Dukes of the
Kingdom of Murdoch to help them. That is why the Conclave of the
Dukes of Murdoch has heard nothing. The Larg don’t need ships to
transport them north. Remember too, that the Avuzdel has reported
that some kohorts are moving away from their pack ranges.”

“And how do you
suggest we find out if such a route does exist?” queried
Lynsey.

“Send word to
all the Sea Captains,” was Rhian’s instant response, “they know the
Middle Sea with a far greater intimacy than you or I and, at the
very least, they will have charts of the waters.”

“Are there any
trading ships in the bay?” asked Lynsey.

“I think the
Emily Stanton
came in last night,” offered Rhian. The
merchantman was a regular visitor carrying tools, equipment and
food to the permanent Vada outposts along the coasts.

“Ask the
Captain to come see me as a matter of urgency would you Tana?”
asked Lynsey, “and tell him to bring his charts with him,
especially those to the west. I know he probably will have had
little cause to use them but he’ll have them nonetheless, all the
Captains do. Go yourself, don’t try to telepath. After you have
done that, warn all resident Ryzckas that I wish to see them in my
office at Fifth Bell.”

Tana ran out of
the office as fast as her legs would carry her, calling out for
Tavei as she ran.

The Captain of
the
Emily Stanton
arrived at the run. Accompanying him,
panting and puffing, was perhaps the most grizzled, most
craggy-faced, white-haired old man Lynsey had ever seen.

“Brought old
Trent along Lynsey,” the Captain said, “Tana here filled me in with
some of the details and old Trent has sailed just about everywhere
and for a very long time. Third Generation he is, not many of them
left now.”

Old Trent
nodded, “I may have been tae young to have known Francis and Asya,
your predecessors, but my grandfather kent them.”

Captain Wylie
was spreading out his charts on the worktable with scant regard for
anything else. He stabbed the edge of one of them with a finger,
commanding old Trent to show the Susa and the Weaponsmaster and to
explain.

Trent bent over
the chart. It looked highly incomprehensible to Lynsey and Rhian
when they joined him. It was full of little squiggles and strange
symbols.

“Don’t
understand nautical maps too well,” the latter said. “What are
those lines, depths of the sea?”

“These lines
are confusing,” agreed Trent, “but I remember everywhere I’ve
sailed tae and I understand enough to tell ye what’s what. Went tae
sea as a boy like my father and grandfather before me.”

“Tell the Susa
and the Weaponsmaster about that time fifty years ago when the seas
last froze,” commanded Captain Wylie, “you talk about it often
enough.”

The old man’s
face brightened, for years he had bored the clientele of
The
Lucky Lind
with the story of when he was a boy, of that winter
when his ship could not find a way through the ice.

“Must have been
in ninety-five or thereabouts,” he began, “I was only a lad and
Granfer said ‘twas time I went tae sea. Ma had the wee ones at home
and I was a bit of a handful.”

“Not much
changed there,” said his Captain.

Trent’s eyes
twinkled. His stubby finger pointed at the map, “there or
thereabouts. Sea was low, frozen solid in places. The ship was top
heavy with ice. Lost some men frae the rigging, slipped as they
were chiselling it free lest ship overturned with the weight.
Captain couldn’t get through the channels, no sea room. I remember
there was a line of rocks. The old Swallow had a shallow draft; she
was designed for coastal work and we still couldnae get
through.”

“You sailed
that far west?” asked an amazed Rhian, “there weren’t any outposts
there then.”

“Captain wanted
tae know what was there I reckon, the charts were a might
incomplete in them days.”

“And the rocks
were exposed?”

“Saw them with
me own eyes. I was up the mast, lookout you see, no-one else tae
spare and I had keen eyesight in them days. Razor sharp rocks.
Granfer named it Trent Reef because I saw it first, after his
father, him who arrived here. The name stuck.”

Lynsey stared
at the indicated area on the chart. There was the Trent Reef,
labelled clear as day in the middle of the inordinate amount of
incomprehensible wavy lines and what she mentally called splodgy
squiggles.

“We followed
the reef south, trying tae find a passage through until, on the
horizon there, we seen the Southern Continent. No way through.”

“Did you ever
go back?” asked Rhian.

“Couple of
summers later, ice had gone by then. No sign of the reef. Granfer
took soundings and it was there right enough under the Swallow’s
keel as we sailed through. Granfer died a few years later and me
da, he didn’t hold with going so far west, no profit in it he said.
Took a contract out with some of the islanders. Spent his life in
the Great Eastern Sea and so did I until me bones got tae old and
stiff. Ended up in Vadath here, sold me boat. I feel at home here,
I like the Lind, they’re friendly sorts.”

“They enjoy
listening to your stories,” teased Captain Wylie.

“That tae,”
Trent admitted, “and I can’t get drunk and leave the tale half-told
with them around.”

“Is the reef
passable on foot?” asked Lynsey.

“You mean frae
the South ma’am?”

“By the Larg,”
agreed Lynsey.

The old man
thought for a moment then nodded.

“Aye, I think
it could be, certainly at low tide and with the seas so low. If the
sea’s iced up, which it likely is, then that’d help tae. Plenty of
islands for them to wait out higher tides if they have tae.”

Lynsey turned
to Captain Wylie, “I need as many ships and boats as you can gather
together.”

The Captain
looked at her and took a deep breath, “you mean to commandeer
them?”

Lynsey did not
answer. She turned to Rhian, “how many days to run to the far
western tip?”