Dragons and Destiny (47 page)

“I think you
should,” she answered, “if you don’t you’ll regret it for the rest
of your life.”

“Father has
gone into town to get me exempted from the call. He’ll do it too,”
fretted Zak.

“You don’t have
to obey him. Do you? I mean, if you turn up at the hall with the
others and march out he can’t do anything about it.”

“You’re right,”
Zak answered. “I will go. It was just important that I listened to
what you had to say. Thanks Zilla.”

“Hope I never
regret it,” she said with a hint of a smile. “Don’t go off and get
yourself killed, that’s all I ask. I don’t think I’d ever forgive
myself if you did but …”

“I was going
anyway?”

“Yes.”

“What about
you?” asked Zak, “do you want to leave here?” He had never
considered Zilla’s wants before.

“Where would I
go? What would I do?” she asked in a sad little voice. “Until a few
months ago I never thought there might be a life for me outside
Dunetown unless I got a husband.”

“Like he tried
to find Rilla?” teased Zak.

She laughed,
“he never knew her very well, did he?”

“It might have
worked out if Zawlei hadn’t appeared as he did. She
might
have been happy.”

“Not deep
down,” Zilla disagreed, “there’s more to Rilla than as a wife and
mother.”

“There’s more
to you as well,” insisted a generous Zak.

“Perhaps,” she
smiled, “perhaps I don’t know what I want.”

“Come with me,
they will need nurses,” he urged but she shook her head.

“I can’t.
Mother needs me. With you gone she’ll need me all the more. Anyway,
enough of my woes. I’ll help you pack. Have you got enough
under-things and socks? Socks are important.” She got up and hunted
in his drawer. “I darned those thick socks of yours the other day.
Good, here they are.” She held them out.

“They are
beautifully darned, thank you,” he said. “You’ve done so much for
me over the years and I’ve never thanked you before.”

“Quiet good
little Zilla,” she teased, “now, that’s it. She piled up the bundle
of spare clothes on the bed. “That should do it. Your uniform?”

“In the
wardrobe.”

“You get into
it and pack away these clothes and I’ll go down to the kitchen and
make some sandwiches. Goodness knows when you’ll next get a decent
meal.”

“Thanks,” said
Zak with affection and gratitude.

“I’d also make
sure you’re gone by the time Father gets back. Say goodbye to
Mother, she’s in the stillroom. I’ll bring your sandwiches to you
there. Hurry up.”

Zak did as she
said, donning his black uniform with frantic haste and stuffing his
clothes into the pack. He clattered down the stairs and made for
the stillroom.

Talan returned
to the inn triumphantly clutching Zak’s exemption document. He was
incandescent with rage when he found out Zak had already gone.

“Father, be
quiet,” Zilla insisted when Talan declared his intention of going
back into town and forcibly removing Zak from the ranks. “Leave it
be, don’t shame him in front of his friends. He’ll never forgive
you.”

Talan glared at
her, speechless. This was a new side to Zilla. She had never argued
with him before.

“It’s not as if
he’s going to actually be doing any fighting,” she continued, “it’s
the Militia. He’s not in any danger. He’ll be back soon. It’s Hilla
and Rilla who you should be worrying about.”

“That’s all you
know,” Talan growled, his shoulders slumping. “The Militia is not
going to take up guard duty in an outlying spot as you fondly
imagine. They’re marching east, to Settlement. The Larg are
coming.”

Zanda burst
into floods of tears at this and Zilla was silenced, her face one
of consternation and horror. That Zak would have gone anyway she
gave not a thought.

What have I
done? He wouldn’t have gone if I hadn’t encouraged him. The Larg,
after all these years.
Her thoughts went to her sisters, Hilla
in the Garda and Rilla in the Vada.
Will they be in the thick of
the fighting with Zak?

Here she was,
stuck at the inn and her sisters and brother were in danger.

There must
be something I can do to help.
An idea began to form in Zilla’s
mind.

* * * * *

Julia

Great
Andei’s pawprints! I am tired fit to drop
. There weren’t enough
bells in the day to do all that had to be done. The Stronghold was
in ferment.

With each bell
more and more vadeln were reporting in from leave as well as the
Ryzcks arriving from the surrounding area. Status reports … all the
time.

She had sent an
exhausted Alyei to get some rest and had called into her offices
some vadeln of the Fifty-first Ryzck to take over communications.
They were doing shifts, four pairs at a time and even then there
were not enough of them. She might have to take Ryzcka Niaill up on
his offer of assistance from the First Ryzck.

Groups of the
Militia of Vadath were also appearing at the gates and the Ryzcka
in charge of billeting was at his wits end as to where to put them
all.

No less than
three Lindars were also expected come morning.

“Get your
vadeln rested and fed,” she told the Ryzcka of the Fourteenth,
“then move out, along the coast to Settlement.”

“Yes Julia,”
answered Ryzcka Lainert. “There’s no room to swing a vuz here.”

“Set up your
dom in the woods above Battle Plain and wait for orders.”

“Food?”

“Supply are
dealing with it. The first boat is already on its way. Supply
Stations are stocking up. If you need any replacement equipment,
take it with you. Alyei and I will be leaving here in two days with
the cadets and the Fifty-first. We’ll set up advance HQ in the
woods. You can start getting the shelters built. Yes?”

This last was
directed at yet another visitor who was standing at the door.

“Susa, that’s
the Forty-seventh coming in. They’re asking where they are to go.
Even the salle is full to bursting.”

There was no
help for it.

“Tell the
cadets to double up in their cubicles,” Julia ordered. “It’s only
for a couple of nights, they’ll manage.”

The visitor
nodded and departed. Julie’s gaze fell on Lainert again. “Better go
see to your vadeln. I’ll try and make time for a chat before you
go. If not, Alyei and I will see you in the east.”

Lainert nodded
and left.

“Any word from
the Avuzdel?” Julia called in the direction of the outer office
where communications was based.

“Nothing new
Julia,” a disembodied voice shouted back.

“Tell me as
soon as news comes in. What about Field Marshall Johnson Jones? Has
he been in touch?” For the life of her Julia couldn’t remember the
names of the vadeln-pair allocated to the O.C. Garda.

“Garda
battalions are all heading towards Settlement,” the voice answered.
“He’s commandeered every vessel that can float. Those closest are
making their way to Settlement on foot and horse.”

“The
Council?”

The disembodied
voice laughed.

“You don’t want
to listen to what Paula has to say.” Paula was the vadeln who had
been sent by Julia to keep an eye on what the Councillors were up
to. “That Anders man is countermanding every order but few are
paying much notice except for a few Militia commanders. None of the
Garda nor the Navy. I don’t think you’re his most favourite person
at the moment.”

“As if I cared
a whit,” Julia called back, “keep me informed of any
developments.”

“Wilco.”

“One last
question before I get some shut-eye. Any word from the south?”

“Nothing,”
another voice replied. “We think the
Armageddon
must be
approaching the Murdoch coast by now. If Rand is on schedule he’ll
reach Port Duchesne tonight. Any orders for Captain Hallam? It’ll
be your last chance before he’s out of touch.”

“They know what
they must do,” Julia answered with a yawn. “Tell them good luck
from me and Alyei.”

“I will
Julia.”

“And tell Asya
and Inalei to inform us when they land up the coast, the day after
tomorrow sometime I expect.”

“No problem
Julia, now go get some rest.”

* * * * *

Rilla

“We’re leaving
Vada tomorrow,” Shona announced as she plonked herself down in the
jam-packed cubicle that she and Danei were sharing with Rilla and
Zawlei.

All the cadet
duos were doubling-up to make room for the vadeln-pairs who were
reporting to Vada in response to the muster. So crowded was the
Stronghold that meals were being served in shifts and it wasn’t
possible to know when luncheon ended and evening meal began.

The cooks were
correspondingly tired and irritable and the cadets with cookhouse
chore duty had begun to dread the bells spent there.

Shona looked at
her hands with a rueful expression. They were all white and
wrinkled.

“I must have
washed hundreds and hundreds, if not thousands of dishes today,”
she complained, “thank the lai I’ll not need to go back.”

“My chore bells
weren’t much better,” said Rilla who was hot, tired and dusty. She
and Zawlei had spent the afternoon out with the Commissariat
helping to gather in some of the more distant herds of kura. She
wanted food, a bath and a rest, not necessarily in that order and
was not altogether pleased to hear Shona’s news. It would mean a
frenzied night packing and preparing for the journey.

She was sitting
on her bed mending one of the leather straps of Zawlei’s harness
which has strained and snapped during the afternoon’s
exertions.

“Who says so?”
she asked.

“I overheard
Weaponsmaster Jilmis talking to Weaponsecond Fastia,” she
explained, sitting down on the temporary bed affair that was hers;
they were in Rilla and Zawlei’s cubicle, “he told her to order the
cadets off all chore duties and to start getting us ready.”

“Are we all
going?” She tested the leather by the simple expedient of tugging
it hard from each end.

“Second, Third
and Fourth Stripes are and a good many of the Firsts. Not the
recently paired of course. They stay here and take over message
running. I heard Jilmis say he wasn’t happy about it but that every
cadet pair with the necessary training was needed.”

“You seem to
have heard rather a lot,” observed Rilla with a sly twinkle.

“I was merely
walking past the office,” said the unrepentant Shona, “and it’s no
secret, the window was open and they weren’t trying not to be
overheard. Nothing dishonourable in overhearing something when just
passing by.”

“True,” said
Rilla, placing the mended harness down beside her, “so what
now?”

“We start
getting ready. Danei has gone to the pens to get something to eat.
Zawlei?”

“He ate this
morning, said that he wanted a decent meal before all the best were
gone. Twenty-fifth Ryzck is due in this evening.”

“I think we
should go and get something to eat too. Then we can come back here
and begin packing.”

“That seems a
most sensible plan,” said Rilla in a prim voice and getting to her
feet. “You know Jilmis, he’ll go through our packs with a fine
toothcomb when he comes to inspect and once he’s pronounced himself
satisfied we’d be lucky to get more than a sniff at the dregs in
the cook pots.”

Shona agreed
and the two of them made haste to vacate the cubicle and descend on
the cookhouse, passing an increasing number of excited cadets on
the way.

As Shona had
told Rilla, Jilmis and Fastia hadn’t intended that tomorrow’s
departure be kept a secret and the news had percolated.

The babble of
voices followed them as they made their hurried advance towards the
appetising odour that told them that spicy zarova stew was on the
menu, a firm favourite of Rilla and Shona.

“Are you
excited?” asked Shona as they sat in the crowded dining hall
putting away large helpings of stew and ricca with bamana fruit to
finish up.

“Scared yes,
excited no,” Rilla replied, scraping the last vestiges of her meal
off the plate.

* * * * *

The Susa

Zaoaldavdr,
Susa of the Avuzdel of Larg was in the midst of a moral quandary.
Unlike the Avuzdel in the northern continent that recruited its
members from all of the rtathlians, here one pack was the Avuzdel.
The members lived high up in a remote mountain range to the far
east of the nadlians. They were different from the other Larg.
There was Lind in their ancestry, they thought differently and
their telepathic abilities were more pronounced.

For centuries
the pack had trodden a fine line between obedience to the Largan
and loyalty to the Lai. Like others of the Avuzdel they had
searched for the Boton and had kept faith with their cousins in the
north.

It was
difficult and dangerous.

Like the other
Larg packs they swore allegiance to the Largan. They sent their
kohort to the wars, fought the Lindars, killed their cousins though
it broke their hearts to do so, because keeping their real identity
and mission secret was the more important. A conflict of loyalties
was no stranger to Zaoaldavdr.

Now the Largan
was gathering his forces for the ultimate war. He was calling in
the kohorts from all the desert packs and the furthest reaches of
the lands to which Larg laid claim. It would be the biggest army of
Larg that had ever gone to war.

“We have to
decide what we shall do,” he told the assembled members of the
pack. “On the one paw we have our oath of loyalty to the Largan but
we have older oaths. The Largan believes that with the help of the
Dglai he will emerge victorious and rule over all. We have
venerated the Lai who have guided our steps from generation to
generation. Will we desert them now? Where do out loyalties lie?
With the Largan? With the Lai? It cannot be both. Do we fight for
the Largan? Do we hide? Do we fight with the north knowing that the
Dglai are the real enemy?”