“Do you think the Highest wants to be Duarch?”
“No. I think he wants to control the Duarches, but it’s not just about power. At least, I don’t think so, but that could be because I’d like to ascribe higher motives to them.”
“You’re the number two officer in the Myrmidons, and you still have ideals.”
At her sardonic tone, Dainyl laughed, but his laugh faded as he thought about Asulet.
“You have that look, the thoughtful one.”
“I was thinking about Asulet. There was a sadness behind his words. One thing he said truly disturbed me, after I had a chance to think about it. He said that we had lost so much, that once his predecessors could mold the very cells of the body, but that he and the others working to build lifemass here on Acorus had been forced into combining and modifying cells.”
Lystrana nodded.
“You don’t seem surprised,” Dainyl said.
“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but it makes sense. The archives reference the numbers of alectors on Aciafra—”
“The world before Ifryn?”
‘Two before Ifryn. There was Aciafra, then Inefra, then Ifryn,“ Lystrana explained. ”When I first saw it, I thought someone had made an error in transcription. The reference was to more than twenty thousand alectors who would need to be translated.“
“Twenty thousand?”
“Slightly less than ten thousand made the translation to Inefra, and somewhere around seven thousand made the translation to Ifryn.”
“If we’ve lost that many alectors to translation…” mused Dainyl.
“More likely both through translations and between translation. We have to have lost knowledge. Only a few volumes can be carried by each alector who makes the translation.”
“There’s something very wrong here,” protested Dainyl. “If we’re losing so many alectors, and so much knowledge, why are we restricting the number of children we have?”
“Did you know that there aren’t any illustrations or descriptions of Aciafra? Or even of Inefra? Not one. I’ve always wanted to ask why, but there’s never been anyone I trusted to ask.”
Dainyl caught the amused and intellectual expression in her eyes. “What else?”
“There was a reference to a mortality table. Just one. I couldn’t find the table or the data, or any other references to it.”
“Mortality table? But that suggests that alectors died, that many died…”
“Exactly. We don’t die often now, but that takes more lifeforce…”
Dainyl took another sip of the golden brandy, thinking. “We’re each taking far more lifeforce. Is that just to extend our lives or because we’re more and more removed from wherever we started?”
“I don’t know. It could be, but I don’t think so. I think it’s also about power and comfort. Do we really need all the things that drain lifeforce? The eternastone highways and buildings? The pteridons? The personal shields used by those with Talent?”
“They all help increase life force,” he pointed out. “I saw what Acorus was once like, and Asulet wasn’t lying about that. Without what he and the early life-formers did, Acorus would be cold and dying, if not dead.”
“We could talk about this until it rains on the Dry Coast, or until indigens obtain Talent. Is there anything we can do about it tonight?”
Dainyl took another sip of the brandy. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t even know what I could do tomorrow or next week, except to straighten out the mess in Dramur—if I even can. There’s certainly no one I can talk to about it, except you.”
“Then,” said Lystrana as she set down her brandy. “We’ll have to think about it. Later. Much later.”
Dainyl left his brandy on the table and stood, extending his hands to his wife.
80
The Fifteenth Company scouts Mykel had sent out on Duadi had discovered a disturbing pattern. Most of the western seltyrs had withdrawn from the area around Dramuria and appeared to be consolidating their forces to the north. One of the few still-isolated forces was the one bluecoat company at Weslyn Estate to the southwest of Dramuria.
Mykel would have liked to pursue that company on Tridi, before it could rejoin the others, but Bhoral had advised against it, suggesting both men and mounts needed another day of rest. So Mykel had persuaded Dohark to send Fourteenth Company scouts out on Tridi. Those scouts had ridden back late in the afternoon, reporting that the bluecoats had set up a more or less permanent camp at the estate. Mykel decided Fifteenth Company could ride to the area the next day and find some way to ambush or otherwise catch the bluecoats unaware.
Fifteenth Company rode out through the west gates at dawn on Quattri morning. Mykel had drawn field rations for his men, rather than wait for the mess cooks and the later meal. Although there was a brisk wind out of the northeast at his back, he could see no clouds and no other sign of rain to come.
Should he really be trying to pick off another seltyr com-pany? Yet, what else could he do? Sit with the other companies in the compound and wait for an attack? Or wait and do nothing as the seltyrs took over all of Dramur? The other four companies could certainly defend the walled compound against anything the seltyrs could mount—and it was unlikely that an attack would come soon, in any event since many of the bluecoats were more than a day’s ride away.
Still… as he led Fifteenth Company south through Dra-muria, Mykel worried.
As early as they passed through the town, there were folk out and about, but not many, and the streets were mostly empty and quiet. Of those who were on the streets, all seemed to avoid looking at the Cadmians. That was another aspect of Dramur Mykel didn’t understand. Even after only a season or so, it was clear to him that only the Cadmian presence had kept the seltyrs from taking over Dramuria. The guano mine and trade kept Dramuria alive and independent of the seltyrs, and the Cadmians kept the trade and the mine from being controlled by the seltyrs. Yet the people of Dramuria didn’t seem to care much for the Cadmians.
On the southwest side of Dramuria, there were more people out, many of them working on the shallow irrigation ditches that ran through both the few fields and the many casaran orchards. Others were hoeing up various weeds from both the orchards and the fields.
A glass and a half after riding out, the company stopped for a ration and water break, in an area shaded by one of the ever-present casaran orchards. By a glass past noon, Fifteenth Company was less than three vingts from Weslyn Estate, beside a woodlot with a small stream, and Mykel had called a halt for another ration and water break, then sent out the scouts to see what, if anything, had changed at the seltyr’s estate.
Mykel had dismounted and watered the chestnut and stood beside his mount in the shade. Even in early spring the sun in Dramur was warm. All he could do, for the mo-ment, was wait for the scouts, try to think up alternate tactics… and worry.
“You think the bluecoats’ll still be there?” asked Bhoral.
“I don’t know. They should have moved out days ago, but they were there yesterday.”
“What do you have in mind, sir?”
“There are hills to the northwest, and the orchards run up and over the hills. The trees are planted in rows up the hillside. We’ll ride down those rows. We can get within a third of a vingt of where the bluecoats are set up without being seen.”
“Like that other estate?”
“Mostly.” That bothered Mykel as well. If Bhoral could tell what he was going to do, so could the seltyr’s officers.
Dhozynt was the first scout to return, less than half a glass later. His report was brief. “Nothing to the east of the place, sir. No tracks on the road.”
“Nothing at all headed toward us?”
“No, sir.”
“What about the estate?”
“There’s a gate with two guards in green. From where I was, I couldn’t tell much more. That whole side is those nut trees. Can’t see the buildings from there, and the road’s so open that I couldn
’t cross it without them seeing me.”
The second scout back was Gerant, and his report was similar. “No sign of anything on the south lanes, sir. Not a track.”
Sendyl followed Gerant. “They’ve been doing maneuvers and training on the fields to the north of the villa and grounds. Not today. No dust in the air. Not a bit, and I couldn’t see anyone out on the grounds, except a few retainers. Some of the tents are gone, too.”
Had they moved out? There were no tracks to the east, south, or north. Mykel decided to wait for Jasakyt.
The third squad scout was the last to return, nearly a glass later. He rode right up to Mykel. “Sir! They’ve pulled out. They’ve headed west.”
“How do you know?”
“From the tracks in the northwest lane, sir. Not all that long ago, no more than two glasses, I’d wager. They weren’t riding that hard, though. The whole place looks deserted, except maybe for some retainers here and there.”
Mykel’s guts tightened. He mounted the chestnut and stood in the stirrups. “Squad leaders to the front!”
He waited uneasily for the five to gather. As soon as they rode up, he looked over the five men for a long moment before speaking. “The bluecoats have pulled out, heading west. We’re headed back to the compound.”
“You don’t want to follow them, sir?” asked Vhanyr.
“Like Seventeenth Company did? I think not.” It was all too likely someone among the seltyrs wanted to ambush Fifteenth Company, and he didn’t want to pursue, as outnumbered as Third Battalion was. “There’s a time to fight, and this isn’t it. We’ll head out immediately.”
He needed to check the maps, but he wasn’t about to travel back the same way they had ridden in. That was one precaution he intended to take, even if it meant riding over some seltyr’s fields to get to another road or lane.
“Company! Forward!”
Mykel wanted Fifteenth Company off the road they were on as soon as practicable. Even so, he did not breathe that much easier. The less direct route only meant crossing the corners of two fields and riding down the center of one unkempt casaran orchard.
Between the not quite so direct route and Mykel’s caution in not getting the mounts overtired on the return, the sun had already dropped behind the Murian Mountains as Fifteenth Company rode eastward toward the compound. A light breeze carried the faintest hint of a most unpleasant odor to Mykel as he led Fifteenth Company toward the closed gates of the compound.
“It’s Fifteenth Company! They’re back!” That came from the guards on the gate towers, and Mykel caught a tone of relief. He didn’t like that at all.
The gates opened, just halfway, and closed quickly behind the last riders of fifth squad.
Once inside, as he rode toward the stables, Mykel studied the compound courtyard. The few troopers he saw moved slowly, and carts—filled with canvas-covered shapes— seemed to be everywhere. The sickening odor was stronger within the walls. What had happened in less than a full day? An attack of some sort? He didn’t see any wounded. Disease didn’t strike in a matter of glasses, not to create that many bodies in so short a time.
A ranker hurried on foot toward Mykel, staggering slightly as he did. “Captain Mykel! The overcaptain needs to see you soonest, sir! Right now!”
Mykel reined up and dismounted. He handed the chestnut’s reins to Bhoral. “Have the squad leaders stand by after they’ve settled the men. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mykel followed the ranker to the headquarters building and the study that Dohark had taken over, at least while the colonel was gone.
The overcaptain sat behind the desk. In the light of the single light-torch, his face looked faintly green, or perhaps yellow-green, and his eyes were red-rimmed. “Good to see you back.”
“What happened?”
“We’ve been poisoned. Had to be in the morning meal. A good third of the men are dead. That includes both Mersyt’s and half of Benjyr’s company. How are your men?”
“They’re fine. I drew field rations this morning.”
“Lucky you.”
“We just didn’t want any more fish for breakfast.” Mykel refrained from pointing out that luck hadn’t always been with Fifteenth Company. “Do you know how it happened?”
“One of the cooks is missing. He was the one in charge of breakfast. None of the others know anything.”
“What about the officers?”
“Everyone’s been sick, but not so badly. I don’t know about Majer Herryf. He didn’t come in this morning.”
“He hasn’t been staying at the compound?”
“No. He says that he’s from Dramuria, and that if he stays here, it will cause too much fear in the town.”
“You think he’s in trouble?”
“He is, or we are, or both.”
“What was poisoned? The fish?” That seemed most likely to Mykel, since it tasted bad, even under the best of conditions.
“Who knows?” Dohark’s face twisted momentarily. “Fifteenth Company needs to take charge of the guards tonight.”
“I’ll take care of it. What about food?”
“We’re using field rations. I’ve got those guarded. The water comes direct from springs…”
When he and the overcaptain had finished a quick outline of what Fifteenth Company needed to do, Mykel left the study, and headquarters, crossing the courtyard quickly and hurrying toward the stables.
All five squad leaders were waiting, with Bhoral. The questions began before Mykel even reached the six Cadmians.
“How come… dead troopers everywhere…”
“What happened? They got bodies everywhere. Some sort of plague…”
Mykel held up his hand, and there was quiet. “One of the cooks poisoned breakfast. He’s vanished. The overcaptain thinks a third of the Cadmians are dead. We’ll be eating off the field rations. They’re under guard. No one feels worth sowshit. So we have to take over compound guard duty.”
“We just rode all day…” began Gendsyr.
“Most of the Cadmians who survived can’t hold a rifle yet,” Mykel said firmly. “Do you want to trust them to guard you against ten companies of bluecoats?” His eyes knifed through each squad leader in turn.
No one spoke.
“Now… we’ll rotate squads. First watch—first squad takes the gates and walls. Second watch—second squad. Third squad will take the morning watch. After that, I’ll let you know.”
After arranging the sudden duty rosters, Mykel walked over to the officer’s cell. There was but one ranker there, and he sat slumped on a stool.
“Sir?”
“How’s the prisoner?”
“Don’t know, sir. Only me here, and no way to check.”
“I’ll check. You watch.”
“Yes, sir.” The Cadmian trooper sounded too tired to argue.
There was no sound from inside the cell as the guard unlocked and opened the door, or as Mykel stepped inside. .
Rachyla was stretched out on the cot. She did not move when the door closed behind Mykel, but even in the dim light, he could see she was breathing.
“Lady Rachyla?”
She turned her head, slowly. “It… would… be… you.”
Her face was greenish, or yellowish. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but it certainly wasn’t her normal color. He could almost sense the miasma of sickness—or poison— that shrouded her form—a greenish pink, it seemed. He blinked. Had he really seen that?
“… so thirsty…”
There was water in the pitcher on the desk, and he poured it into the cup, then bent and held it while she drank. ji
After drinking, she lay on her side, looking at him. “Do… you poison all your… prisoners, Captain?” Each word was labored.
“No. Someone poisoned everyone who ate breakfast. There are bodies all over the compound.”
“You… look… fine.”
“We left before breakfast this morning.”<
br />
Her lips curved into a parody of a smile. “… fortune of cursed one… dagger of the ancients…”
That made little sense to Mykel, but he didn’t pursue it. “How are you feeling? I mean… I know you feel terrible… but better or worse lately?”
“Better… worse fortune… no sense… dying twice.”
“You won’t die here.” Mykel spoke without thinking.
“Your… promise?”
Mykel had been caught off guard by her condition, but he wasn’t that green or stupid. “I can’t promise anything. You know that.”
“You… said…”
“That’s a prediction, not a promise.” He held the cup. “You need to drink more.”
Her face twisted, the way Dohark’s had, but she said nothing. Several moments later, she drank. Mykel finally took back the cup, nearly empty.
“What is… happening?”
“A third of the Cadmians are dead. Eight companies of bluecoats are here in the east. The Myrmidons haven’t returned, and neither has the majer in charge of the compound.”
“Majer Herryf. None of the seltyrs… care for him. He will not be back.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know… people.” Her eyes flickered, as if she were having trouble keeping them open.
“Are you… is something the matter?”
“I am tired. Good night, Captain.” She closed her eyes.
Mykel watched for a time, but her breathing seemed stronger. Finally, he rapped on the cell door. She did not stir as he left.
81
From Dainyl’s point of view, Quattri had been both productive in getting caught up with the piles of paper and unhelpful in discovering what he really wanted to know. He’d gotten to headquarters before the morning muster, but the marshal had already left to meet the High Alector of Justice at the Duarch’s Palace. Since Dainyl had been able to work uninterrupted all day, he’d finished reviewing the reports from all eight Myrmidon companies on Acorus.
The marshal had returned to headquarters late in the afternoon and immediately summoned Dainyl to make sure he would be at headquarters on Quinti to welcome and brief Colonel Dhenyr. Then the marshal had departed for a formal dinner at the Duarch’s Palace.
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