The trailing trooper had lost his mount, brought down by the sand-wolves, and the trooper had jumped free. As the Matrite ran across an open space between two junipers, Alucius put a shot into his midsection, then quickly began to reload.
Quick as he was, by the time he had the rifle ready to fire again, none of the troopers directly below was standing, and the two who had been climbing out of the wash had urged their mounts into a gallop, back southwest.
A sense of shimmering silver-green flowed over Alucius, flooding through his Talent-senses. He could not help but look to the northeast, practically over his shoulder, at the soarer who had appeared from nowhere, its wings a twinkling silver-green. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished.
Why another soarer? Did they follow death? Or sanders? Alucius swallowed and gathered himself together. He could sense that five of the troopers were dead, and one was dying. He forced himself to ease the gray downhill, out of any line of fire from the log hut, and then to the south where he could follow the fleeing men. He wagered that the two would be heading back to their encampment or outpost, and he didn't want to lose the opportunity to discover where it was.
The Reillie and his family could certainly take care of one mortally wounded Matrite. Still, Alucius wanted to be very careful in leaving the area, because he didn't want to be the next victim of the Reillie's all-too-accurate aim. He kept his senses spread, ignoring the gorging of the sandwolves on the two downed mounts, as he slipped south and then westward in the waning sun of late afternoon.
Only when he was well clear of the hut, did he take a deep breath. Then he concentrated on tracking the two men who seemed to be retracing their own tracks westward, along an old way that was more than a trail, less than a road.
The two Matrite troopers were still heading westward as the sun touched the western horizon, although they had stopped several times, as had Alucius. As day slipped into twilight, Alucius could smell smoke again, but it was the smoke of stoves or cookfires. He rode forward even more carefully, trying to be alert with all his senses, and his Talent, drawing in more of the gray-tinged Matrite troopers—and a handful of sandwolves to the north.
The Matrite encampment was on a rise in the middle of a long north-south valley, and the cookfires beamed out almost like beacons. The scent of roasting meat made Alucius's mouth water, but he swallowed as he tied his mount to a cedar branch—a sturdy one—and eased through the clump of trees to where he could look out toward the encampment to see what he could before the light faded.
Alucius located the position, as well as he could on his map. He also counted the numbers of mounts he could see on tie-lines, the number of cookfires, and the five wagons, including the three that seemed to be filled with something heavy, like stone, or iron. From what he could tell, there were close to five companies of cavalry and twice that of foot. Just in one force, the Matrites had mustered something like ten times what the militia had in Soulend and probably as big a force as the Iron Valleys could mount anywhere without stripping everything of protection.
As Alucius watched and took notes, and as the twilight faded, he could sense someone well to the north, also watching, perhaps one of the other scouts, but he didn't know.
He eased back to the gray, and then rode for almost a half a glass until he could find a spot where he could rest and water his mount, and where he could offer the small amount of grain to the gray. Before long, he would need to find a place to sleep, at least for a time, and one where he and his mount couldn't be easily surprised.
While the nightsilk undergarments and skull-mask kept Alucius warm, he had slept fitfully, although he could sense no sanders nearby, and the closer sandwolves seemed to be to the north of the Matrite encampment. The wind remained chill and biting, and his breath steamed. He noticed the chill mostly when breathing deeply, because his lungs protested and the inside of his nostrils felt frozen.
Since he scarcely had enough information to return and report, he was up well before dawn, and back checking the encampment. In the hazy, but stronger light of dawn, he could see that his initial judgment of the location of the camp had placed it too far south, for he could see the midroad less than half a vingt to the north of the low rise on which the Matrite force had camped. Alucius had clearly been more tired than he'd realized the night before.
He watched as the horns offered signals, and as the entire camp was packed up. A six-horse team was being readied to move the lead wagon, while those that followed had but four. He would have liked to see what was in the lead wagon. All his Talent-senses told him was that it was somehow both very new and very old, and that a sense of danger surrounded it. His best guess was that it was a weapon, and that the wagons that followed carried equipment it required. But those were only guesses, and he didn't like the idea of reporting something so uncertain.
The other scout was nowhere within his senses, and Alucius wondered if the man had headed farther westward or back toward Soulend.
Within a glass of dawn, scout patrols were assembling. Alucius remounted the gray and rode eastward, but onto a concealed position on a higher ridge, waiting and watching. The patrols headed eastward as well, and the entire Matrite force followed, with the four wagons in the middle of the column, rather than at the end.
Once Alucius was certain of that, he rode down the eastern side of the ridge, then angled northeast to pick up the midroad, and to make his way back to Soulend. There was little doubt in his mind—or in the actions of the Matrite troops—that they were headed through the remainder of the Westerhills toward Soulend—another Legacy of the Duarches that the Iron Valleys could ill afford.
Even with the greater speed afforded Alucius by taking the midroad, it was past midafternoon before he rode into the encampment. He had managed to wiggle out of his skull-mask before nearing Soulend, and the cold wind had made his face raw enough by the time he dismounted outside the stable that no one would have guessed he had such a mask. He hastily stabled and groomed the gray, and arranged for fodder and water with the company ostler before hurrying into the barracks to find Ilten.
He didn't see Ilten around and went to the captain's spaces to inquire. A very young trooper, looking no older than Alucius, was standing guard.
'I'm looking for Senior Squad Leader Ilten," Alucius said. "I just got back from scouting, and there's something he should know."
'He's with the captain."
'They really should know," Alucius said politely, projecting a sense of urgency.
'He said they weren't to be disturbed."
Alucius swallowed silently, not quite understanding the rage he felt, then used his Talent to let it pour out toward the hapless trooper. The trooper almost cringed against the door.
'You'd best let them know… now," Alucius said mildly.
The man glanced at Alucius as if the scout were a sandwolf, then ducked inside the door.
Ilten appeared—without the trooper.
'Sir, reporting as ordered, sir," Alucius said.
'You're back early." Third Company's senior squad leader sounded less than pleased, and he radiated displeasure.
'That's because the Matrites are marching eastward along the mid-road toward Soulend," Alucius replied. "They only have patrols out flanking the road. They have about five companies of horse and close to ten of heavy foot. They all packed up right after dawn and headed east on the midroad."
'Are you sure?" asked Ilten.
'Yes, sir."
Ilten sighed. "You'd better report this to the captain directly." He turned and opened the door, motioning for Alucius to enter before him.
The guard trooper eased out behind Ilten, not looking anywhere at the returned scout.
Captain Heald glanced from the departing trooper to Alucius. "Did you threaten Barka?"
'No, sir. I did tell him that Senior Squad Leader Ilten needed to hear my report now."
Heald frowned.
'You should hear what he has to say, sir," Ilten said mildly.
>
'What is so important, then, scout?"
'The Matrites left their camp and are marching the midroad toward Soulend. They should be clear of the Westerhills by twilight. They have about five companies of horse, and seven to ten of heavy foot."
'Show us where this camp was." Ilten pointed to the map on the long table.
Alucius studied the map, then checked his own, and finally pointed. "There. That's where they were set up, less than a half vingt south of the midroad on a rise."
'Have you talked to Waltar?" asked Ilten.
'Waltar?" Alucius didn't have to act surprised. "Sir… I don't know Waltar."
'You've met him. He's the seventh squad scout." "I might recognize his face, sir, but I've never seen him close up outside of this room."
'Well… both you and Waltar gave the same location, but he came back in the middle of the night." Ilten nodded. "How did you find that encampment? And why did you stay? Oh… you can sit down." Both Ilten and the captain reseated themselves. "Thank you, sir." Alucius took the stool across the table from Ilten. "I was following orders, sir, trying to find the Matrites. It was maybe midafternoon yesterday, and I'd seen a thin trail of smoke. The Reillies had to know that the Matrites were around. So I thought there was a chance that it was another burned hut. With the snow, I figured I might be able to follow their traces—if they'd burned the hut, that is."
'Go on. I'd like to hear how the smoke led to the encampment," Ilten said dryly.
'I'm a herder, sir. I could sense that there were sandwolves around. I thought that meant bodies. I was very careful to keep downwind of the sandwolves when I was moving in to see what had happened. There was a hut, hidden up in the rocks, and there was a flat little valley below. The Matrites saw the smoke, too. I could feel horses, and that meant troopers. You told us not to get involved, but I couldn't move, not without being seen. So I waited. The sandwolves must have been hungry. They went after the mount of the last rider."
'They went after a Matrite trooper? I find that hard to believe," the captain snorted.
'You want me to take you out there and show you the bones and the hut, sir?"
'Go on," Ilten said quickly.
'The Reillie must have figured that was his chance. He put a bullet through the leader. Then things got really strange, because a sander appeared and took out a trooper and his mount. There had to be someone else firing, because two more of their troopers went down."
'And I suppose you sat there and did nothing?" asked Heald.
'No, sir," Alucius replied. "The trooper who lost his mount to the sandwolves got clear, but he started running right toward where I was hiding. I figured that with the Reillies all shooting, no one would hear me. I shot him. Then I waited a bit and circled south and followed the survivors straight back to their camp after that, but I got there so late that it was hard to see what they had. So I holed up out of sight and came back to their camp before dawn." Alucius cleared his throat. "There's one other thing, sir. They've got a big heavy wagon, and it takes a six-horse team, and there are three other wagons with it. They're not supply wagons, and they're all covered. They're in the middle of the column. I couldn't find any way to see what it is, but where they have it, and the way it's traveling, I think it's some sort of weapon."
Ilten and the captain exchanged glances.
'We'll keep that in mind," Heald finally said. "Is there anything else?"
Alucius considered. "Just one thing. The Matrites don't seem to send out single scouts. The few times I've seen them, they've had an eight man patrol."
'That might help us… a bit." Heald nodded to Ilten.
The senior squad leader stood.
So did Alucius.
Ilten walked out with Alucius. Once he closed the door to the captain's space, he motioned the young guard away, before turning back to the scout. "Alucius?" "Yes, sir?"
'A couple of things. First, don't tell anyone the details of what you reported. That's the captain's job. He'll talk to Delar shortly, and he won't like it if your squad leader has already found out from you. Neither will I. You can say that you ran across the Matrites, and you gave the information. Let it go at that." "Yes, sir."
'Now… just what did you tell Barka?" "Just what I told you, sir." Ilten laughed. "How did you tell him?"
'Well, sir… I was angry, but I didn't say a word, just what I said." "I imagine you have a way of expressing anger within the rules, Alucius. Most herders do. Just don't do it often." "Yes, sir."
'The captain and I know you left out a few details. Make sure that they stay left out."
Alucius could sense a wry amusement, not hostility or anger. "Yes, sir. I tried very hard to follow orders, sir."
'I'm sure you did, trooper. But you can't always rely on helpful sandwolves and sharpshooting Reillies to bail you out. You wouldn't know it, but two of you scouts aren't back yet. I hope they will make it back. Go get some sleep. You'll need it. We'll have to be ready for anything."
'Sir? What might happen?"
Ilten shrugged. "The captain's already requested reinforcements, after Waltar's report. We'd hoped the Matrites wouldn't move so fast. We'll do what we can. Now… you look like death. Get some food and rest. You can tell the cooks I said to find you something to eat." "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
Ilten nodded, then turned and re-entered the captain's room. As he headed for the mess, Alucius hoped that Geran wasn't among the missing.
The next morning—Alucius found it hard to believe it was Sexdi—found Third Company mustered in its entirety in the barracks. Alucius was relieved to see Geran, even if the older scout's eyes were rimmed with deep and black circles.
Outside, the wind had subsided into a moan, and the day was fair and cold. Inside, the captain's eyes surveyed the troopers. Finally, he spoke. "You all know we've been scouting the Matrite force. They're on the midroad moving toward Soulend. If they push, they could be here in two days, or sooner. I sent a second messenger to militia headquarters requesting reinforcements. We can't wait for them. So we're going to attack—like sandwolves, when and where they least expect it." Captain Heald stepped back.
Ilten stepped forward. "Pack your gear for a week's ride—light on comfort, except for warmth. You have one glass. Then you'll stand down. We could ride this afternoon or tomorrow. You'll get your rations and cartridges for your rifles from your squad leader after you've been inspected and passed, and before we ride out. Dismissed to your squad leaders."
Alucius kept his frown to himself. His grandsire had foreseen what was occurring more than a year before. Why hadn't the Council put more companies in the north? Was it that the north was expendable to the merchants of Dekhron?
'Second squad, stand easy," ordered Delar.
There was the slightest shuffling of feet.
'You heard the captain. When I dismiss you, get your gear ready, and have it on your footchests. Then I want you to check your tack and your mounts. Then come back to the barracks bay." Delar paused. "Geran, Alucius, I need a moment from you two. The rest of you are dismissed to get ready."
The other eighteen troopers fell out, leaving the two scouts with the squad leader.
Delar looked at Geran, then at Alucius. "Anything I ought to know?"
'Sir, I don't know what Ilten and the captain told you," Alucius replied.
'He said that there were too many Matrites, but that we had to do something to slow them down, or they'd be marching into Dekhron by spring." Delar glanced from Alucius to Geran.
'I saw four companies of horse," Geran offered. "Could be more."
'Could be at least that many heavy foot," Alucius added.
Delar nodded. "Another frigging Legacy. Stinks worse than soarer shit. Anything else?"
'They don't like to send out small patrols. Eight or more," Alucius said.
'They've got smaller bore rifles. Probably have a larger magazine with more cartridges. Bullets go farther, maybe more accurate," suggested Geran.
Alucius's respect
for Geran rose as he realized how close Geran must have gotten. Either that or Geran had ambushed enough of a patrol to collect arms.
'Good to know." Delar cleared his throat. "Anything else?"
'Not that I can think of," Alucius admitted.
'Dismissed."
As the two scouts walked toward second squad's barracks bay, Alucius said, "How did you get so close? If you don't mind…"
Geran grinned. "I didn't. I kept my eye out for spent casings. Found enough of them. They're all the same. You'd expect that from either the Matrites or the Lanachronans." He fumbled in his tunic, then extracted a brass casing that he passed to Alucius.
Alucius examined it. "Only a little more than half the size of ours…" He realized, belatedly, that he could have discovered the same thing. He'd seen casings in the hills—another reminder that he hadn't thought things through.
'About two thirds. Shell is longer, too."
'They're not used to dealing with sandwolves. Some of them got surprised by them."
'They aren't fighting sandwolves. They're after us," Geran said.
Alucius could see Geran's point.
After packing his gear, Alucius left it on his footchest and headed out to the stable, where he checked the gray carefully. His Talent-senses confirmed that his mount was in decent shape."
Kesper appeared at the end of the stall. "Alucius…"
'Thank you. You gave him some extra grain, didn't you?"
Kesper nodded. "Try to do that with all the scouts' mounts. There's some extra in the corner there. Best you take it with you." He paused. "Word is that… things could get tight."
'They could. The Matrites are riding this way. The captain has some plan to slow them, but I don't know what it is."
'Nothing likely to stop the iron bitches."
'We'll see."
Kesper shook his head. "Wouldn't want to be any of you." He offered a forced smile to Alucius. "You take care." Then he was gone.
Legacies Page 21
