Legacies

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Alucius eased Wildebeast back around the uprooted trunk of the fallen fir, and followed a narrow game trail under the pines and firs, a trail that angled downhill, and then back up to the southeast and the rocky outcropping that overlooked the logging road. Once he had to dismount and lead his mount around a bushy growth of pines that were but shoulder high where the trail was blocked by a pine half fallen and wedged against a larger fir.

  'Glad he knows where he's going…"

  '… safer around him…"

  Alucius ignored Venn's murmur, as well as Oryn's reply. He definitely disagreed with the idea that being around him was safer.

  A single shot echoed from the north. Alucius smiled. "Not that much farther." He remounted, then froze in the saddle for a moment, as, again, he could sense the brownish green of the unseen creature. The feeling passed as quickly as it had appeared, and Alucius urged Wildebeast toward the western side of the base of the rocky ridge, now visible through the trees ahead. His Talent confirmed that there were no Lanachronans on the west side, although there was a single trooper with the mounts on the south side, almost a vingt away.

  Just before Alucius reached the spot where the ridge began to rise too steeply for the mounts, Astyl's second shot echoed through the trees.

  'We'll tie the mounts up there," Alucius said quietly. "We have to climb up there to get above them. Then we'll shoot down at them."

  After another fifty yards, he reined up and dismounted, studying the rocks with eyes and Talent, and waiting for Venn and Oryn to join him. He dropped two more cartridge packs inside his tunic before turning toward thejumble of rocks that rose like irregular steps punctuated with scattered cedars and barely leafing mountain birches. "Let's go. Try to be quiet."

  Oryn nodded. So did Venn, but the older trooper's nod was more resignation than acceptance.

  Behind them a third shot echoed over the trees.

  Alucius began the climb by squeezing between the irregular gap formed when one huge bolder had been split by water and time, then easing up an angled ledge. When they had climbed another fifty yards uphill, perhaps ten short of the crest, he motioned for the other two troopers to move closer. "They'll be in some sort of line. Unless I tell you otherwise, Venn, you take the three on the right end, and, Oryn, you take the three on the left. Understand?"

  'What if there are more than that?" whispered Oryn.

  'Then move toward the center—after you take down the ones on the end."

  Both troopers nodded.

  Alucius eased across the sandy exposed rock that formed the top of the ridge, moving slowly, and keeping low, finally stopping several yards short of the edge, and dropping onto his stomach before edging forward, his rifle in his left hand.

  When Oryn and Venn slipped into place beside him, Alucius pointed over the lip of the redstone boulder. Less than fifteen yards below were nine Lanachronans stretched out prone, their rifles aimed at the empty road.

  He cocked his rifle, waited for them to do the same, and then whispered. "Fire!"

  His first shot took the middle trooper in the back of the skull.

  Alucius got off three shots before the troopers below even began to realize from where the Matrite troopers were firing. Alucius pushed aside the empty voids of death washing over him, and kept shooting. The other two were slower, but less accurate, and Alucius had finished reloading before they had emptied their magazines.

  By then, the ambush of the would-be ambush was over, and there were six bodies on the rock below. A single Lanachronan trooper—the one guarding the mounts—had galloped off, with two mounts. That Alucius had determined with his Talent… and said nothing about it.

  'Now what?" asked Venn.

  'Are you three ready to surrender?" Alucius called down to the three wounded men, who had tried to huddle behind low outcroppings of rock.

  'You'll just shoot us."

  'We could already have," Alucius called back. "Throw out your rifles, or I will."

  'Frig you!"

  Alucius sighted on the man who had replied, then squeezed the trigger.

  The Lanachronan's rifle clattered onto the stone.

  '… how'd he do that?" Venn murmured.

  '… don't ask…" muttered Oryn.

  'We'll surrender," called back another voice. Two rifles skidded across the stone.

  'Sit up with your hands on your head!"

  When he was certain that the two remaining Lanachronans were unable to fire at them, Alucius motioned for Oryn and Venn to follow him, taking turns moving so that a rifle was always trained on the two survivors.

  In the end, Alucius and the half squad resumed their ride toward the rest of seventh squad. Astyl was leading six Lanachronan mounts, loaded with the captured rifles and other gear, and the two wounded Lanachronans. Oryn rode behind, his rifle at the ready.

  It took more than a glass to reach where the roads joined.

  Solat rode out to meet them. His eyes widened as he saw what followed Alucius.

  'The rest of you form up with the squad. We'll be heading back. The undercaptain will want a report, and she'll want to talk to the prisoners." He looked at Alucius. "You ride with me and tell me what happened." He raised his voice. "Daafl and Neyl—you ride as scouts."

  Denal looked toward Alucius and grinned.

  Alucius shrugged, helplessly.

  'Let's go!" snapped Solat.

  Alucius guided Wildebeast up beside the squad leader and his mount.

  The squad rode almost half a vingt before Solat turned in the saddle. "Tymal told me things happened around you." The squad leader paused, then asked, "What happened? How many were there?"

  'Half of one of their patrols, I'd say. We counted seven bodies, and only one got away. Thought the undercaptain might like to talk to the ones that we captured. They'd set up an ambush, but they were too clever."

  'Too clever?"

  'They used a pine branch or something, dragged it behind a mount, to sweep away the traces of their tracks. There weren't any tracks at all on the road dust, and we haven't had rain or snow in weeks. I kept looking, and there was only one place for an ambush. We ambushed them."

  Solat shook his head. "How did you manage that without losing anyone?" He paused. "Don't answer that. I don't need to know."

  'Sir… I just do the best I can." That was certainly true enough, and it was the only way Alucius could hope to live long enough to figure out how to escape and return home.

  'I've already recommended you for promotion to junior squad leader."

  'Thank you, sir."

  'You get the job done…"

  Alucius could almost read Solat's unspoken words… and I don't know how.

  In the darkness, Alucius stretched out on his bunk in the logging cottage that held seventh squad, about to fall asleep after a long and three-day ride through the hills from the southwest high road, at the beginning of yet another three weeks plus patrol. A wave of brown-green washed over him, and all thought of sleep was gone as he sat up abruptly.

  He could sense one of the unseen creatures—the one with the brownish green feel—and not all that far from the patrol station. Quickly, he slipped to the pegs on the wall that held his uniform and pulled on trousers and tunic, boots and jacket. As an afterthought he added his sabre.

  Only then did he step out onto the stoop of the cottage. "Alucius?" asked Daafl, who was sitting on the stool used by those on guard duty.

  'I need some air."

  'You're not…"

  'I know. If someone complains, I'll say I went out the window. You didn't see me."

  Daafl shook his head. "Long as you get back soon. Not like there's anywhere to go. Or anyone to go to." He chuckled softly.

  'Thank you." Alucius nodded. The isolation and restriction were more obvious in the mountains, but they existed everywhere in Madrien, and it sometimes amazed Alucius that so many of the other troopers did not seem to notice. A few did, like Daafl or Oryn, but most did not. Everyone was polite in Zalt, b
ut, except for the handful of former troopers in the market and the refugees from Southgate, said little beyond pleasantries.

  Without a look back, Alucius slipped into the night, moving alongside the cottage in the deeper shadows cast by the full orb of Selena—the spring planting moon. The air was chill, with a hint of mold, but dusty as well, but still, without even a hint of a breeze. From the lamps in the main building, he could see that Undercaptain Kryll was still up and awake. The problem with having half a company with a semipermanent patrol station was that an officer was always around.

  At the end of the cottage holding seventh squad, Alucius eased to his left so that he would be on the back side of the next cottage, well out of the undercaptain's sight, should she even look out. From the back side of the last cottage, he walked eastward, downslope, away from the buildings until he was out between the tall firs. He moved easily, his boots almost silent on the carpet of needles, still damp enough from the snowdrifts left from the winter storms that had not finished melting until a few weeks earlier.

  He walked silently away from the camp and into the deeper woods, into a stand of trees that had never been cut. He paused, abruptly, wondering how he had known that, and let his senses run across the towering trees and the ground. He did not know how… but he knew, in the same way he had known the land of his own stead.

  He could still sense the brownish green, even stronger than before, as strong as a sander or a soarer, and not all that far away. After stopping beside the trunk of a tall fir, he gazed out from the shadows across the open space which held little but a scattering of seedling trees and a few thin stalks of last year's grass. He could smell a faint scent of the caroli, just about the only early spring flowers, and the only ones with a night perfume.

  Whatever had created the brownish green was not far away, yet even with the night vision of a herder, at first he could see nothing. As he stood by the tall fir, he kept scanning the forest, both with his eyes and his Talent. Slowly, he took in what lay before him, sensing a faint green that permeated the ancient bristlecone pine on the far side of the open space, a tree gnarled and seemingly dwarfed by the taller firs and pines of the forest, yet with a depth and presence that made the other ancient evergreen monarchs less than shadows.

  A girlish figure, seemingly clothed only in a subdued shimmer of light, stepped away from the ancient tree. The moonlight seemed to focus on her, deepening the shadows around the edge of the clearing, and she seemed made of green-and-silver light, never quite the same combination of colors as she moved.

  Alucius waited, uncertain whether to slip away or to watch, yet knowing he would not leave, and not knowing why.

  She continued to walk toward Alucius, her hands at her sides, her feet not touching the ground. Then she stopped, looking from the circle of moonlight that bathed her into the shadows where he stood.

  You will have to leave the shadows before long. The unspoken words chimed softly, bell-like, in his head.

  He would, Alucius knew, because sooner or later the sun would rise. Somehow, he understood words were unnecessary.

  Not those shadows… the ones cast over your soul. She beckoned again. Come… if you would… herder from the high lands… even with the evil collar you wear, we offer no harm.

  Alucius stepped forward, but he stopped short of the focused circle of moonlight that surrounded the girlish figure. You're like the soar-ers…

  You could call us cousins. We are the few souls of the woods, while

  they need the open skies where none watch. The wood-spirit looked straight at Alucius. You are part of the soul of the land.

  How could that be?

  What is… is. The dark ties are too strong to be questioned.

  For the first time, he could sense the age of the youthful-looking figure… and the sadness.

  Why do you allow them to hold you with the collar?

  Alucius did not answer. The question implied that he had the choice, not the Matrites. Because I fear I do not know how to remove it.

  It is less than a spider's web.

  They are spiders.

  There is but one spider… and all the unnatural webs spin from there. They are nothing to the strength of the ties that are. You could break that web whenever you wish. Do not wait until it is too late.

  Alucius watched as her hand extended to his neck, to the silver-gray torque. He could sense how she untwisted the purple and the pink. The collar fell away, and for a long moment, she held it in silver-white slim hands. Then she replaced it, and retwisted the spider threads of purple and pink. You must do what you must do. We cannot.

  Alucius understood that. Thank you. He bowed his head.

  There was a sense of laughter, not unkind, but not without an underlying tone of irony. In time, we hope to owe you thanks.

  Being thanked by the wood-spirits he'd never imagined even existed? We hope. We have hoped for generations. We hope you will understand and act before it is too late. She stepped back, bowed gravely, and then turned and walked back to the bristlecone. As she reached it, her hand touched the nearest feathery branch, and she vanished. So did the circle of moonlight.

  Alucius glanced up, but Selena still shone brightly. He looked back at the ancient tree. The greenish glow was gone from the bristlecone, yet he could sense that somehow it remained, though he could not see it. He watched for a time, but the brownish green was gone, as if it had never been.

  Finally, he turned and began to walk uphill and back to the cottage.

  Just short of the cleared area that held the camp he stopped. He let his senses drop over the torque he wore. Then he swallowed. Should he? If he didn't, would he remember what she had shown him. His fingers were almost trembling as he lifted his hands. Then he concentrated on following the pattern of unweaving the purple and pink—and letting a flash of light break the weld.

  He was breathing heavily by the time he held the collar in his hands. He cocked his head. Then he slipped it back in place, using his Talent to lightly seal the weld, but when he rewove the purple and pink, he did not tie the threads of power to himself, but to the torque, so that he would still seem "gray" to any Talent-wielder who looked at him. While he doubted that he could pass a thorough scrutiny by a Talent officer, in more than a year, he'd never even been close to one. He wore a torque, but not one that could kill him while he slept. A quick smile passed across his lips.

  Alucius made sure Daafl was alone before he slipped up to the small overhanging porch and the stoop of the cottage.

  'Daafl… I'm back."

  'What…" The older trooper shook his head.

  'You all right?"

  'Nothing. Was probably dozing. That's all. You feel better?"

  'The walk helped," Alucius admitted.

  'Understand. Sometimes… you just need some space to yourself."

  'Thank you."

  Daafl nodded.

  Alucius eased back into the cramped confines of the cottage, slipping toward his pallet bunk through the darkness that seemed more than bright enough for him not to need a lamp.

  He glanced at Oryn, snoring lightly on the adjoining bunk. He could see, more clearly than ever before, the thin line of purplish pink—evil purplish pink—that twisted from the torque at his throat around Oryn's head and then stretched up and northward. Northward to Hieron and the Matrial.

  Alucius shivered.

  Alucius stood at the doorway of the mess, looking out at the rain falling across the courtyard of Senob Post, the first rain in months, a late spring rain that flowed down from thick gray clouds, cleaning the dust out of the air, the dust of a long and dry winter, one that the southerners had thought cold, and one filled with skirmishes, endless patrols, and two inconclusive battles—followed by the eerie absence of Lanachronans during the past weeks.

  He moved from the doorway, heading back to the library in the center of the barracks wing, glancing at Culyn, walking out of the mess, a youngster out of trooper school at Salcer less than two months, and
the latest addition to seventh squad, greener even than Alucius himself had been a year earlier, probably even less experienced that some of the auxiliaries who drilled infrequently, although Alucius had never seen their maneuvers up close.

  'Alucius!"

  Alucius turned to see Brekka walking toward him. "Sir?"

  Brekka laughed. "You're so formal. Always following the rules to the letter."

  'Yes, sir." Alucius grinned. "Safer that way." Especially for a herder out of the Iron Valleys. "How do you like ninth squad? And being a squad leader?"

  'It's a good group. Not quite as good as seventh, not yet, anyway. Being a squad leader beats being a trooper, but it's more work. You'll find that out." Brekka paused. "Solat was asking about you. Wanted to know why you weren't a junior squad leader."

  'No one asked me," Alucius pointed out amiably.

  'He's recommended you for the next vacancy in the company. The captain will promote you before long, now that you've a year in service." Brekka shook his head. "Specially the way we're losing squad leaders. Almost as if the Lanachronans are targeting us."

  'They probably were, except that they've vanished."

  'Not for long. They want Southgate. They always have." Brekka frowned. "Why do you think they're after squad leaders? You didn't say, except you thought they were."

  'Because the effectiveness of a squad depends on the squad leaders." Alucius didn't point out that, effectively, the officers were primarily strategists, logisticians, and large-scale tacticians, but usually not combat leaders. That had become all too clear over the year. "The Lanachronans know that." He shrugged.

  'That makes me feel even better," Brekka replied. "Talking to you could depress a fellow, you know?"

  'Yes, sir."

  Brekka laughed. "I'll enjoy the respect from you for now. You'll be getting your own squad by summer's end, if not before."

  'I appreciate the thought, sir. If it happens, I'll do the best I can."

  'Oh, it will, and you'll have to." Brekka turned, heading toward the courtyard, despite the heavy rain.