Conflict and Courage Read Online Free PDF Page B

before sun falls from sky.”
    The three set
out to walk the last mile of their journey.
    Wilhelm
Dahlstrom was working in the corral that held his family’s small
herd of kura when his eldest son spied the trio approaching.
    It was not
unusual to receive a visit from the duty Lindar, especially during
the first critical setup months of a new farmstead. As well as
patrolling the coasts, the Lindar provided the essential
communications link between the farmers and the Council. In the
months since the battle a pattern of such visits had developed,
most outlying farms receiving a visit every ten days.
    What was
unusual about this visit was that there were only two Lind
approaching, an inland patrol numbered at least six, and that one
of the two had a rider aboard.
    “Dad, Lind
coming.”
    Wilhelm
Dahlstrom looked up and followed his son’s gaze.
    “Best let Mum
know we have guests,” was all he said as he resumed his hoeing.
“I’ll bring them in when I have found out what they want.”
    His son nodded
and ran off. His father waited, rubbing his temples as he did so.
There was a strange buzzing in his ears that he couldn’t identify
and which was making him jumpy.
    His visitors
approached and he squinted at them, the better to see exactly who
they were. At least the rider’s presence meant that they were not
the Larg, he had seen enough of these creatures to last him a
lifetime.
    Geraldine and
Jsei walked towards the wiry figure, Mislya following behind.
    “Good evening,”
said Geraldine courteously.
    Wilhelm
acknowledged the greeting with a nod. Mislya and Jsei nodded in
their turn but did not speak. The former kept her gaze on the
man.
    Wilhelm again
felt the buzzing in his head, this time coupled with a weird
feeling of disorientation.
    “Wilhelm
Dahlstrom? You may remember me. I fought on the infantry right wing
during the battle,” Geraldine began.
    He nodded
again.
    “I remember you
all right. Geraldine isn’t it? I heard that you had bonded with a
Lind during the battle. Is this he?” he asked, looking directly at
Jsei. He felt nervous of the other Lind and had decided to avoid
looking at her if he could. There was something challenging about
her stare.
    “I am pleased
meet you,” interjected Jsei. “I am vadeln with Geraldine. This is
Mislya.”
    Wilhelm
acknowledged this greeting with another short bow and looked at
Geraldine. “What can we do for you? Do you need a bed for the
night? That we can provide; food too.”
    “That would be
good,” she answered. “We have come a long way to speak to you.”
    “To speak to
me?” he asked, wary.
    “We have not
travelled this far for no reason. We wish to ask you again if you
will consider becoming Weaponsmaster of the Vada. We are in great
need of your skills if we are to be able to protect the north.”
    As Wilhelm
stepped back in negation, the relentless Geraldine continued, “we
have many youngsters, some not much older than your own children
who will have to fight in the future. They have accepted this task,
but without the proper training their lives will be short
ones.”
    The convicts
and the Larg have been defeated,” he protested. “We are safe
now.”
    “Larg are ever
a danger. It is their nature,” said Jsei and with careful emphasis,
added, “they will return.”
    “How?”
retaliated Wilhelm, “the beachhead is being fortified. By the time
Robert Lutterell has finished with it, nothing could get
through these barriers.”
    “The prisoners
at Settlement have told us of boatbuilding. From their descriptions
of the keels being laid the boats resemble Viking longships,” said
Geraldine, having picked up this description from one Emily Stanton
whose knowledge about all things historical was second to none.
    “Vikings? Never
heard of them.”
    “Tenth century
earth raiders. They terrorised northern Europe, rape, pillage and
the like.”
    “I see,” said
Wilhelm, “and Jim Cranston thinks the convicts are going to emulate
them in