The Lost Colony

Chapter 25

Something loomed behind him. The second man aimed a blow at Sparr, who, half-laying on the ground and facing away, was defenseless. The best he could manage was to twist away, trying to present a moving target. To his surprise, his attacker faltered. The man turned away. Sparr scrambled to his feet.

Efreem had engaged the man, jabbing and swatting at him with a tree branch, giving ground but staying clear of his attacker's knife. The man seized the other end of the limb, and for a moment the two wrestled for control. Sparr stabbed him in the spine.

Behind them, the line of wagons was erupting in chaos. Kern had gained the advantage over his assailant, and was slowly choking the man. The other guards hadn't fared as well. The stout man guarding the supply wagon lay on the ground, dripping blood from half a dozen cuts. Two of the attackers had taken the reins and were trying to goad the draybeasts off of the road. Farther back still, the pilgrims screamed in terror as they fled the wagons. The last two guards still stood, but were outnumbered. Though almost certainly too late, Sparr rushed down the line of wagons toward them, followed by Efreem. One of the guards took a blow from a club and staggered back, dazed. Another of the attackers leapt forward to finish him with a knife. He never reached his target.

Tuck and Drian stormed into the melee, hooting, and swinging the stout poles they used in practice. Tuck struck the shoulder of the man with the knife, disrupting his attack. The man with the club swung, but the youth, perfectly adopting the defensive stance Sparr had taught him, knocked the blow wide. Before the attacker could try again, Drian cracked him hard on the skull.

The ambush turned into a rout. The attackers turned to face the youths, but failed to notice Sparr and Efreem. Sparr slashed one from behind, as did Efreem. As the two men stumbled forward, they became entangled with their remaining comrade. All three fell quickly.

A scream rang out behind them. Sparr, fearing he had missed one of the attackers, sprinted back. Kern was just pulling his sword from the body of one of the two would-be wagon thieves. The other was stumbling frantically toward the edge of the wood. They let him go.

***

It didn't take long to sort out a new order in the caravan.

They had lost two guards, the stout fellow that had fallen at the supply wagon, and one that Sparr hadn't seen killed. Another was in terrible pain, probably from a broken collar bone. Silla served this one strong spirits while Kern and Liette quarreled about the correct path.

"Turn back now," Kern said. The guard captain was a greying, but solidly-built man, a modest network of scars tracing across his cheek, chin, and arms. He was, Sparr decided, exactly the man you'd expect to see if you called central casting and asked for a 'grizzled veteran'. He continued. "I can't secure the caravan three men down."

"We can't," insisted Liette. She shook her head. "You know how much is at stake here, both for us the Governor." The priestess made clear the implications for the Governor, and, by extension, Kern, if the pilgrimage was a failure.

"Right now, we turn around, we can probably get back safely." The guard captain's expression was as hard as Liette's. "Another attack like that one and what the Governor thinks will be of no interest. Half of securing the caravan is well protected. Can't do that with only three uniforms."

Liette was about to counter when Sparr spoke up. "If I might," he said. Liette stared at him coolly.

"Tuck and Drian fought well today. Yes, they need further training, but put them in a uniform, given them a blade, and they'll look just as dangerous as the men you've lost. And they're young." Sparr knew this last point wouldn't be lost on Kern. Both of the fallen men were over thirty-five.

Kern considered it. "We could outfit them, I suppose. They're undisciplined, though."

"I'll keep training them," Sparr said. "And Efreem and I will guard, too, just like we did today."

Liette was still fixing Sparr with a cool look. He suspected the priestess didn't like him reassigning her property. Sparr turned to her. "Liette, I know you took a chance buying us from the Governor. Let us prove that wasn't a mistake"

The priestess looked past him to Kern. "Are we in agreement?"

Kern grimaced, but nodded. "They can start by helping us bury the dead."

***

"I think we're lost, Alain. We're going to die out here, aren't we? Get swept out to sea."

Sparr and Calista bobbed just off of the Florida coast, each in a graphene kayak. But while Sparr sat at peace, Calista worried and fretted.

"We aren't even two hundred meters offshore," Sparr reminded her. It wasn't the first time that his fellow advisor had expressed misgivings about the nighttime excursion. "We're each tracked within one meter or our position. It's fine!"

"Great, so they'll know where to find my body," Calista grumbled. "Hey," she said, trying a different tactic, "let's race back to shore!"

"No!" Sparr shook his head in disbelief. "Can you not sit still for even a few minutes?"

"You're afraid I'm faster than you. Admit it."

"I'm afraid we'll come all the way out here and miss the show."

The two had put in three kilometers up the coast, at a beach reserved for Alliance crew and passengers. As dusk settled into night, they had paddled just outside the gentle surf to a point that Sparr insisted Calista would love.

"Looks like we missed the show," Calista said, still restless.

"It's almost dark enough," Sparr assured her. "Just enjoy the moment. Float. Relax." He flicked his paddle to come alongside Calista, who eyed him skeptically.

The two were settling into a cautious friendship. Sparr occasionally flirted with Calista, as much to prompt a reaction as to test for interest on her part. Every so often, he would boast of some new, supposedly appealing, feature of his quarters, if she would only visit him there. So far he had claimed a balcony with a waterfall, a champagne fountain, furniture hand-carved from rare timber, and a violinist who did nothing but wait for Sparr to return with a woman on his arm. For her part, Calista claimed an ever more outlandish set of obligations or difficulties that prevented her from joining him. "I can't tonight," she would say, "I'm entertaining the King of Siam."

None of this prevented them from enjoying time together. In particular, any competitive activity drew Calista's interest. The two were well-matched at racquetball, and reserved a court more days than not. Sparr's greater reach served him well, but Calista could change direction quickly, and hit precise corner shots. The woman was extremely competitive. On days where Sparr took two out of three games, Calista would scramble to schedule another court as quickly as possible. And although the two never spoke of it, Sparr strongly suspected that she kept a running tally of games won or lost between them.