Homage and Honour (49 page)

* * * * *

Luck was with
Captain Wylie that day. As the
Powderflower
wallowed through
the thinner ice at the edge of the Ice Bridge he realised all of a
sudden that no Larg were to be seen anywhere. He was not to know
until much later that there had been a dispute between two kohort
Kranans who both wanted to be the next to cross. This had resulted
in a space between the last kohort and the next.

His mission
proved to be surprisingly easy when he thought about it
afterwards.

The
Powderflower
came to a creaking halt as first her wide bow
then her keel became wedged in the ice.

Her crew
clambered down her sides carrying the blast-powder, charges and
fuse wires. They laid them along the top of the ice with a minimum
of fuss but considerable haste then back to the cutters and small
boats belonging to the
Powderflower
, the
Emily
Stanton
and the
Malinon
as fast as their legs could
carry them. They were just in time.

As the last man
set his fuse wire into the detonation unit and ran back to clamber
aboard his boat the front ranks of the delayed kohort were spied
running over the ice towards them.

The connectors
were set and the Captain of the
Powderflower
lit the fuse.
It sparkled in the sun. The sparkling nemesis reached the
detonation unit and the unit exploded with a subdued pop. Multiple
sparkles were seen heading for the ship and the other charges along
the individual fuse lines.

They all put
their hands and paws to their ears as the old ship exploded, the
line of charges going off one after another with smaller bangs.

There were
creaking noises from the ice as it began to crack.

The Larg on the
ice disappeared. Captain Wylie could see some of them frantically
trying to swim towards solid ground, scrabbling for a pawhold. A
few of them succeeded and watched as the Ice Bridge, their passage
north, disintegrated.

* * * * *

They could feel
the kohorts advancing up the valley through their boot-soles and
paws.

Peter Littleman
and Philip Ross ordered the Militia to prepare, an order repeated
at the other side of the valley as Liam Durand readied his Garda.
Old Harld and Alya stood beside Liam and the younger man felt
comforted by their presence.

The cavalry was
ready, horses chewing on their bits causing them to jingle as they
sensed the tenseness in the air. The Lindars looked over and
worried that the Larg would hear them.

Lynsey and
Bernei walked forward to stand beside Rhian and Tadei. She had to
be here, at the front, in plain sight. If she should fall, ten
lindlengths to their rear stood Johan Williamson and Baltimalya.
She would know if Bernei was gone and take immediate steps.

The Lind were
growling, a deep sublimal growl.

: They are
halfway up to the crest :

: Then it is
time, my Bernei :

The Larg were
like a swarm of ondis, the locust-like insects who devoured crops,
and just as deadly. The vision of what the scouts were seeing
arrived in Lynsey’s mind via Bernei in that selfsame instant. No
training had prepared her for this. She gulped, but gathering her
courage, drew her sword and raised it in the air. When she dropped
her arm, it would be the signal for the short charge of the Lindars
and the Ryzcks placed at the waterfall end of the valley.

Momentarily,
Lynsey closed her eyes; a vision of the Stronghold lay before her
of laughing cadets at play and their struggles to learn
weaponscraft. An earlier memory, as she and Bernei approached the
long-retired Weaponsmaster Anders for the first time, she a scrawny
girl of fourteen, amazed at her good fortune of being chosen by
Bernei.

Her arm
fell.

The front ranks
began to move forward.

The Larg knew
they were there.

“Keep in
formation, watch your backs, watch out for each other and listen to
your Lind.” The Ryzckas and Vadryzkas would be hoarse by battle’s
end.

The ondi-like
swarm began to growl as they saw their enemies.

Their mission
was to kill, to destroy the Lindars and the Vada. To rule this
Northern Continent. A rule of terror.

* * * * *

Yvdr was
nervous as he led his army into the valley. He was not ready for
this, not all the kohorts had arrived, but the scorched earth
policy instigated by Lynsey had left him with little choice. It was
either lead the kohorts into the valley or starve.

His heart
burned with exultant hatred. The Largan was depending on him,
victory meant his own ascension, failure – death. His ancestor
Aoalvaldr had died all those seasons ago, victory almost within his
grasp, at least that was what tradition said. No, failure was not
an option; he must crush the Lind to a bloody pulp beneath his
paws. He did not think there were sufficient Lindars and Vada to
post an unendurable threat.

Yvdr relaxed as
his enemy came into view. They were few; he had them in the claws
of his paw. He
would
be victorious!

* * * * *

“I didn’t
realise the Larg were so big,” Peter Littleman gulped.

“It’s not their
size that worries me,” answered Philip Ross, he had seen Larg
before, “they can be killed, just like any other creature, it’s the
sheer number of them. How can we stand against so many?”

“With courage
and a lot of determination. The Militia have been training for
years for this. The shield wall will hold, never fear.”

* * * * *

Battle (2)

Down the upper
slopes at the top of the valley the Lindars and Vada charged, rank
upon rank.

There was the
thunder of hundreds of huge paws and the ground shook as the
Lindars emerged over the crests on both sides of the valley.

The battle was
long and brutal. The snarling ebb and tide of death went back and
forward, the ground was littered with the dead and the dying. Howls
of pain amid screams of anger. Voices shouting commands. Swords
gleaming bright in the sunlight then covered with fresh blood as
they descended. No time to think. Remember the lessons learned on
the practice field. Automatic reflexes. Kill or be killed. Heaps of
bodies, no flies and other insects yet; they would arrive later to
feast on the fallen. The Ryzcks and Lindars tried to keep their
formations, to protect each other. Confusion. Friends were
separated, some for good. Kill or be killed.

The slushy snow
grew mauve, ochre and red underfoot and underpaw turning into
coloured streams signifying death.

It was the
Larg’s eagerness to fight at whatever cost that was their undoing,
that and the fact that the humans and Lind were fighting for what
was
theirs
.

The rear
kohorts pressed forward, eager to get to the front. The front
kohorts tightened with the pressure from behind.

The Command
Post, in the very centre of the vee on the eastern side of the
valley was hard pressed. There fought Weaponsmaster Rhian and her
training staff, including Tana and Tavei. Rhian and Tadei lost
mind-contact with Lynsey and Bernei early on.

There was no
way the Ryzcks and Lindars could disengage and clamber back up to
the top of the valley sides as Lynsey had planned. The ground was
treacherous underpaw and foot. They were in too deep.

Yvdr sensed
that his chance had come and ordered the kohorts at the entrance of
the valley and as yet uncommitted, into the fray.

On the bare
rock that was Lynsey’s second in command’s vantage point, Johan the
tactician, mind-linked to his Baltimalya realised what was
happening. Baltimalya was also in close mind-link with the Lind
halves of the three cadet pairs who were stationed on the top of
the waterfall itself with unimpeded views along the valley. As the
rear kohorts began to move he knew now was the time. There was no
time to contact Bernei and Lynsey. He ordered the yet uncommitted
cavalry and the Lindars to go, to hit these advancing kohorts from
behind and to drive the Larg into the valley.

* * * * *

: How are
Philip and Radnya? :
asked Tana of Tavei

: They are
alive :

: Thank the
Lai for that :

: Johan and
Baltimalya say to press forward. We must not give them a pawhold on
the summit :

: When will it
end? Please the Lai, stop this carnage, please :

: I will tell
the cadets to form up around us :

: Do that
:

: When will it
end? Please the Lai, stop this carnage, please. Make the Larg go
home. I don’t want any more of my friends to die! :

* * * * *

“This is what
hell must be like,” shouted Philip as he parried yet another lunge
by a Larg. He was fighting on foot, side by side with Radnya. He
was covered in blood, a little of his own but most the
ochre-coloured blood of the Larg.

Radnya too was
bloody of head and shoulders, it was already matting into her coat
and he could hardly see the pale green stripes under the blood.

: I love you
:
Philip ‘said’ to Radnya as yet another Kranj of Larg
scrambled up the valley side towards them.

: I love you
too :

* * * * *

A number of
lindlengths away from where Tana and Tavei fought, four of their
friends were also fighting for their lives and for the honour of
the Vada.

Side by side,
Tiffney and Qenei fought with Jen and Trnslei. As with everywhere
else on the battlefield, the defenders were being hard-pressed to
hold their ground.

: Have they
no fear? :
asked a despairing Jen of Trnslei as he rose to his
haunches to maul at yet another attacker with his sharp chelas.

Trnslei had not
a second to answer. He was far too much concerned with holding back
the slavering monster who was trying to kill him, at the same time
attempting to position himself so that his rider could bring down
her bloody sword on top of their opponent’s neck. So tight were the
ranks that it was not remotely possible for Jen to attempt a
sideways swipe at his jugular. Tiffney and Qenei were fighting with
a similar grim determination.

Jen risked a
glance and caught the younger woman’s eye. The smell of fear, sweat
and blood pervaded their nostrils and Tiffney fought against a mad
desire to sneeze in an attempt to rid herself of the odour. She
grinned at Jen, a grin with no humour in it. This was not a day for
laughter.

Together with
the other members of their Ryzck the four of them managed to regain
ground that the latest Larg surge had acquired.

And it was then
that it happened; the ground underpaw had become loose with the
constant scrabbling and it gave way with an abruptness so sudden
that it took them all by surprise.

Jen and Trnslei
found themselves falling, falling down the side of the valley, over
and over.

Above them, a
shocked Tiffney, Qenei struggling to keep his pawhold, watched in
despair as they tumbled down in a tangle of legs. She could hear
Jen screaming.

: Not Jen! No!
No! No! :

Another duo saw
them fall. They didn’t hesitate. The Lind mindset of ‘save the weak
and the defenceless’ was so imbued in their subconscious that they
could not pay any heed to the standing order to keep uphill.
Tiffney felt a vadeln-pair surge past her and she tightened her
legs round Qenei’s barrel just in time as he leapt down after
them.

The Larg were
some two-thirds of the way down the valley side sorting themselves
out, those uninjured, in true Larg fashion clawing their way over
their injured compatriots in their eagerness to continue to
battle.

Tiffney
recognised Jen and Trnslei’s rescuers, it was Tamir and Whalya.

Tamir turned as
Tiffney and Qenei reached Jen and Trnslei.

“They’ll be on
us soon,” he shouted. “Get Trnslei up. We’ll hold them off. Quick
now!”

Luckily Jen and
Trnslei had come to a halt some lindlengths above where the Larg
were reforming.

Tiffney,
against standing orders, unclipped the harness straps that held her
on Qenei and jumped down.

“Get up!” she
screamed, tugging at Trnslei. He opened one eye groggily. Thank the
Lai, thought Tiffney, they’re alive. Trnslei struggled to his
feet.

“Go. Go. Go,”
yelled back Tamir as he fended off the Larg who had been the first
to extricate himself from the tangle of Larg injured and had leapt
up the slope in a killing frenzy.

Tamir and
Whalya backed up the slope, Tamir’s sword like lightening slicing
through the flesh of that Larg and then another snarling
attacker.

Qenei too
backed up the slope as Tiffney struggled and clambered up in front
of his back legs, tugging at the shaking Trnslei as she forced him
to save himself and his rider.

She felt the
searing pain as a Larg claw raked down the length of her back but
then she was in the midst of her ryzck-mates once more, they were
surging past her, protecting rescuers and rescued. The ranks
snapped tight once more.

Tiffney managed
to stagger on for a few more pain-racked steps before collapsing.
She was not aware of a Holad pair arriving, smearing smaha on her
injuries and lifting her back on to Qenei’s back, nor was she aware
of the Holad Lind instructing both Trnslei and Qenei to take their
unconscious vadelns to the nearest casualty station. Miraculously,
neither Lind was badly hurt.

Tamir and
Whalya, for a wonder, had also emerged from their rash rescue
relatively unscathed and took up their positions once more in the
Ryzck lines. They didn’t get into trouble for their actions then
but after the battle, however, they got a severe dressing down from
their Ryzcka, more for the sake of discipline than for any other
reason. Although the two of them had disobeyed orders, they had
saved Jen and Trnslei. If Kiefer and Canya hadn’t been Ryzcka, they
might have done the same themselves.