Ambition and Alavidha Page 5
* * * * *
The journey home was an anticlimax. Thalia usually looked forward to her and Josei’s leave periods but normally, especially during the first days she felt a bit down in the dumps and this journey she felt more low than usual. Josei was right, it was time to move on.
Although it was summer, they met but few travellers on their route; some Express Service riders and their Lind delivering packages and letters and the occasional merchant and farm worker, that was all.
Everyone they met greeted them with smiles and cheers, especially in the east. News of their victory over the pirates has spread. Passing through solitary farmsteads Vandiel didn’t have to request water. It was brought to them by a succession of grinning children, all eager to get close to a Lind and perhaps to talk to one.
Thalia left the farms cheered. When they ran over the border into Vadath she was almost back to her old self, in fact everyone and everylind cheered up as they entered the lian of what were known as the Home Packs whose rtathlians were situated in the north of the country. The Vada Stronghold, along with most of the human inhabitants of Vadath lived in the southerly areas, where the land was flatter and more arable.
“We’re coming home,” Thalia hummed the well-loved Vada running song. Oh I can’t wait.
And Josei could only agree.
* * * * *
THE STRONGHOLD OF THE VADA - VADA - VADATH
It was with a great deal of pleasure that Thalia found out that her friend Katie was in residence at the Stronghold. A flying visit she was told.
“Me and Kenlei leave in the morning,” Katie informed her.
“Yet another message on behalf of the Susa?” hazarded Thalia. Actually, it wasn’t difficult to guess. Katie and Kenlei were still serving with the Fifty-first Ryzck and that was what they did. It was rare indeed for any member of the Susa’s Own to remain on one place for long. They were always off doing the Susa’s bidding, taking messages, finding out information and liaising with officials of other countries. Some ventured even into the southern continent. The Fifty-first worked closely with the Avuzdel; the semi-secret cadre within the Lind nation responsible for intelligence and fact-finding.
“Another message,” agreed Katie, “Kenlei and I will likely be away for a while his time too. There are exciting times ahead Thalia.”
“Times are always exciting when you’re around Katie,” laughed Thalia. Katie’s zest for life was perpetually catching for those in her vicinity.
“How true,” Katie giggled, “life is for living. You take life too seriously my friend.”
“Perhaps I like it that way, so, if you’re going tomorrow, perhaps we could go to the Lazy Lind for dinner tonight? The cook-house will be full to the brim with both us and the Second coming in.”
“Absolutely,” agreed Katie, her face brightening. The Lazy Lind was the favourite eating house. The food it served was ‘tremendously delicious in every way’ as Rodick had once described it and more importantly, it catered for the Lind too; as did most inns in and around Vada but it was common knowledge that the Lazy Lind was the best.
“At Eve Bell then?” asked Thalia, “now, I’d better be making tracks, I’ve got an interview with Susa Malkum.”
“That sounds ominous,” teased Katie, her eyes were twinkling, “so what have you been up to, to warrant such a summons?”
“I requested the interview,” retorted Thalia, “can’t tell you now, don’t have the time. Eve Bell then?”
“Eve Bell.”
Katie exited Katie and Kenlei’s daga at a run, straightening her uniform tunic as she went and with the mental urging of Josei ringing in her head. He was already waiting outside the Susa’s office.
“What took you so long?” he asked as she skidded to a halt.
“Katie,” she answered, “Lazy Lind. Eve Bell.”
Josei looked pleased. He liked the cooking there. The head chef was very fond of Josei; Josei told good stories and during his and Thalia’s cadetship, bored with the mess hall cooking, he had, at least once a tenday regaled the chef with stories in return for a large bowl of his best zarova stew.
The two of them stood watching the activity around them. Cadet duos were hurrying to their next classes. They laughed as a gaggle of first years exited the main lecture room and began to run at full tilt towards the practice fields.
“Weapons practice,” Thalia deduced, “I wonder if Weaponsmaster Alkin is still as unforgiving with latecomers as he was in our day.”
“He is a man of a habit,” agreed Josei, adding, “Freya says Malkum is ready for us now.”
* * * * *
“You must remain with the Fifteenth Ryzck for another tour,” Malkum informed them after he had heard them out. “After that the Fifteenth has Long Leave. Is that correct?”
“Yes Susa,” replied Thalia.
“I can arrange transfer to one of the Western Ryzcks after that,” Susa Malkum said, “if that is agreeable to you and Josei.”
“I agree,” said Josei at once.
“As do I,” echoed Thalia.
“You will be stationed much closer to Josei’s rtathen which will please you Josei,” Malkum continued.
“Yes Susa,” he said, “I am most excellently happy, I miss my family much.”
Susa Malkum nodded. “I’ll make out the orders and let you know the arrangements. We’ll miss you both here in the east. I have heard nothing but good about both of you. Now go. Enjoy your Short Leave.”
“Yes Susa,” said Thalia and saluted.
She skipped her way out of the office. Yes, she would miss all her friends in the Fifteenth and moving west didn’t mean she and Josei wouldn’t see action again; there were plenty of dangers there too, even pirates and she would be living miles and miles away from the family that remained to her but Josei was happy and that was all that really mattered when all was said and done.
To make Josei happy she would even go to live on Dagan if that was what he wanted.
: That won’t be necessary : ‘said’ Josei, padding after her.
* * * * *
Katie and Kenlei were waiting for them when the entered the taproom of the Lazy Lind, just before Eve Bell.
In front of Katie was a long thin bottle in which resided a pale pink fluid, Thalia’s favourite wine.
“Dedta, Thalia and Josei,” said Kenlei, getting to his paws, “you look well, if a little tired.”
Kenlei was a large, tall, rather heavyset Lind of an indeterminate colour-stripe pattern with so many different browny-orange shades in his hairy coat that even Josei wasn’t exactly sure what rtath (pack) he originated from. Thalia had long suspected that he had some Larg blood in his veins, a suspicion Josei agreed with. His gaze however, as Kenlei quirked his lips at them was all Lind.
“So where is it that you and Kenlei are going in the morning?” asked Thalia once they were settled and the two humans were perusing the menu.
“You know I can’t tell you,” answered Katie, “oh goody-good, we’re in luck, tonight’s special is zarova pie. No-one makes it as good as Kenlas. The pastry simply melts in the mouth. I’ll admit that sometimes when me and Kenlei are off someplace or other I dream about it. Kenlei adores it too. Hope Kenlas has made lots of them.”
“I’m sure he’s prepared for all eventualities,” said Kenlei, looking smug. “I took the precaution of informing Kenlas that we were in town and would be dining here tonight.”
“Then he will have made plenty, you clever sausage.”
Kenlei grimaced. He didn’t like sausages.
Katie looked at Thalia, “and what will you have Thalia, what do you fancy? It’s my treat.”
“I’ll have the pie too,” said a decided Thalia, the smells emanating from the kitchen area were mouth-watering. “Josei?”
“I’m having what he’s having,” said Josei, inclining his head in Kenlei’s direction and wagging his tail.
The waiter appeared as if by magic and took Katie and Thalia’s order, a grin on
his open face.
“Some gingrootbeer too to wash it down please, two glasses,” ordered Katie.
“Very good madam.” The Lazy Lind prided itself on its courtesy to all of its guests, two-legged or four-pawed. He looked with attentiveness at Josei and Kenlei.
“Sirs?” he prompted.
“We’ll have the pie too,” Kenlei ordered, “no trimmings. Three each.”
Thalia almost choked on her wine.
“They are very, very good,” Kenlei explained, “three will do to be going on with. Josei and me will decide later if we need another.”
“Very good sirs,” said the waiter, hiding a grin, Thalia’s face had been a picture. “Water dishes will arrive soon and I apologise for any delays. We are, as you can see, very busy this evening.”
“Apology accepted,” said a magnanimous Kenlei, twitching his ears back and forth in a gesture Thalia could interpret as amusement.
The waiter backed away, still grinning and Katie turned to Thalia.
“So how did your meeting with Susa Malkum go?”
“Great. Me and Josei will be transferring to one of the Western Ryzcks in the new year. Not sure which one yet.”
If Katie was surprised she hid it well. “is that what you really want?” she asked, “it’s different there, a lot different. Many sent there don’t want to stay, transfer out requests are common.”
“Definitely,” Thalia replied in a firm voice, “it’s much closer to Josei’s rtath you see and I know he misses his rtathen. We only ever get there at Long Leave time, it’s too far otherwise.”
“But what about the other way about?”
“You know how I am situated,” Thalia answered with a sigh. “I haven’t seen my family, except for a quick visit to Hal since I paired with Josei and last patrol stint they were only two days run away. I did send a message. They didn’t reply.”
“Well, I get your point, no reason why you should both be distanced. I wouldn’t like it though.”
“Pot calling the kettle black! You know you hardly see your family, you and Kenlei are always on the go, everywhere and nowhere.”
“I make the time.”
“You’ve got a family who cares about you,” countered Thalia.
“Perhaps you’ll meet someone out west and make your own family,” Katie suggested.
“That’s very unlikely and you know it,” Thalia was quick to nip that conversation entrée in the bud as soon as she could. Katie was an incurable romantic at heart and even now she was vadeln-paired and therefore unlikely to form a long-term relationship with any man she never gave up hope of meeting a man who would be in her own words, Mr Right. “I don’t want a husband.”
“You don’t have to be a married woman to enjoy yourself,” Katie replied with a nudge and a wink.
At that moment and to Thalia’s relief, their meal arrived and the conversation moved on to more comfortable topics.
Josei and Kenlei ate four pies apiece and then asked for another, as dessert.
* * * * *
-6-
THE ROYAL PALACE - FORT - KINGDOM OF MURDOCH - SOUTHERN CONTINENT
It was common knowledge among the citizenry that although their Queen was their ruler, with the help and hindrance of the twelve dukes; that it was those nobles of less exalted rank who performed the day to day running of her kingdom. Without them, taxes would not be collected (quite a number rather thought that would be a good thing), roads maintained, rivers dredges and the regiments responsible for their defence paid.
These, the less exalted members of the nobility held a variety of positions within the government. Some might also have a formal position at Court, in the Queen’s Household but many did not.
Of the three men that sat toasting their toes beside the roaring fire, two served in this dual capacity and the third did not. They were of much the same age these three and all had entered governmental and royal service within a few years of each other.
Baron Peter Taviston was the Queen’s senior auditor and worked in the tax office. He also held the post of Usher to the Queen’s person. He didn’t perform the duties of the second. It was an old title and the duties had fallen into disuse some centuries before. It did however, earn him a small yearly stipend.
Kellen Robert Crawford worked within the office of Internal Affairs. This was the least popular of all the departments, concerned as it was with crime and punishment; trade; hospitals; internal security and the like but Robert had survived within it for over twenty years, probably because he was unflappable, not to be bought and so loyal to the Queen’s person that his loyalty squeaked. It was also known that he was one of Queen Antoinette’s favourite attendants at Court. What also helped was that he was, and most admitted this, the most likeable man in the palace. Almost everyone liked him, few believed he was in any way a threat and therefore dangerous and so he was left alone.
Politics could be a murky and fatal occupation to embark on within the Kingdom of Murdoch.
The third man warming his legs at the fireside was one Kellen Philip Ross. He worked for the Lord Marshall of the Kingdom, Prince Pierre.
Lord Prince Marshall Pierre was responsible for keeping the kingdom safe from harm, externally and internally and also for the safety of the Queen’s person and those of her blood. He commanded the Regiments of Murdoch and also the Royal Guard. Back on their native planet, Earth, he would have held the rank of Field Marshall.
Kellen Philip Ross’s especial duties were the collation and interpretation of all intelligence received regarding the state of the borders.
It had been almost two hundred years since that day when the Larg had last invaded and no-one wanted a repeat of the killings that had ensued.
* * * * *
“So what did young Charles Karovitz have to report Philip?” asked Peter Taviston, sipping at his mulled wine.
“Quite a lot and not a lot,” was Philip’s enigmatic reply, “but you know that my son Daniel went out with him this year? The fact that there wee two of them made the reports more informative than usual, from the experienced as well as the inexperienced point of view.”
“Unexpected?” asked Robert Crawford. Peter Taviston was silent, interested but the state of the kingdom’s borders was not his area of expertise. He was interested because if trouble with the Larg flared up then it would be he who would have to find and redistribute the coin to pay for it.
“We weren’t expecting any news of a Larg resurgence,” said Philip Ross, “nor did we get it; the report from Charles was, how can I put it, unusual in an odd sort of way. You are aware that Larg kohorts prowl along the borders even in these peaceful days?”
“Peaceful!” guffawed Peter Taviston, “peaceful he says! With the unrest in the southerly duchies, disquiet here in the palace, nebulous as my feeling is about that just as yet and the dukes still at each other’s throats more often than not! You have a strange understanding of the word peaceful my old friend.”
“Peaceful externally,” Philip Ross amended, “the Larg.”
“Oh, go on, I knew what you meant, just couldn’t resist it Philip, you always rise.”
“So?” prompted Robert Crawford.
“Nothing,” said Philip, opening his hands in a negative gesture, “least that’s what Charles Karovitz’s report said. Prince Pierre told me his relief at the news was huge.”
“But, there is a but, isn’t there?” asked Robert Crawford.
“Peter here used the word nebulous a candledrip or so ago, well, Prince Pierre didn’t wait around for long enough to listen to what my Daniel had to say.”
“Pour it out man, It’s obviously bothering you.”
Philip nodded, “regular paw prints, Larg paw prints Daniel said. It was, as he described it, as if they were running in a preset pattern, to and fro, in and out. He told me that you might be forgiven for thinking that their border scouts were made up of a single kohort of the same Larg!”
“Impossible!” exclaimed Robert Crawford.
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“Improbable,” said the more cautious Peter Taviston.
“That’s what I thought, I knew it was his first time out there and said as such but he was very insistent. I don’t think there’s anything to worry about at the moment. Perhaps it was just a mixture of inexperience and coincidence. Charles Karovitz didn’t set much store by it though he said Daniel did well.”
“We’ll remember,” said Robert Crawford wisely, “out of the ordinary happenings have a habit of turning into happenings of significance. Thanks for telling us Philip.”
The three then began to talk about other matters, some kingdom orientated but mostly about subjects more personal, their families, their horses and the progression of young Crown-Princess Antoinette’s pregnancy.
* * * * *
-7-
AN INN EIGHTEEN MILES TO THE WEST OF PORT LUTTERELL - ARGYLL
The horse was lathered to the extent of exhaustion. The stable hands at the inn where his owner had taken a room for the night were cursing his owner for riding him so hard.
“He doesn’t deserve such a fine horse,” said the head groom as he laid yet another horse blanket on the animal’s quivering flank and directed a couple of lads to start rubbing the stallion’s trembling legs. “It’s a wonder he’s not permanently winded,” he added caressing his charge’s ears. “Just look at him!”
“Is his wind broken?” asked the youngest stable lad with bated breath.
“Actually, I don’t think it is,” the head groom admitted with grudging honesty, “but if it was, why, I’d just like to castrate the owner myself, without benefit of smaha too, that’d learn him.”
“It would hurt a lot without smaha, wouldn’t it?” asked the lad, diligently continuing rubbing the stallion’s left foreleg.