Legacies

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  'I wonder." Gerayn fingered her chin. "You speak Madrien now as if you were born to it. How did you manage that?"

  'I listened, sir." All the time and very carefully, he reflected, knowing that, even so, listening wasn't really the total answer. Before she could ask another question, he spoke. "You're a tariff officer, sir, and that one time when I was in charge of a squad that escorted you, you spoke of the seltyrs of Southgate. Could you tell me more?"

  'We certainly have time," she replied with a smile. "Where should I begin? Perhaps with what has happened most recently." The captain cleared her throat. "Seltyr Benjir is the most powerful of the seltyrs who rule Southgate. The seltyrs are the heads of the ten or so most powerful families. Most of their power lies in their trading networks, and their ships. They also all have their own fighting companies, loyal to the individual seltyr, and not to Southgate. Seltyr Benjir is a very shrewd man. He understands that if Southgate falls to the Lord-Protector, most of the seltyr families will have to flee, probably to Dramur, where they will be heavily tariffed until they lose much of their remaining power. If they do not flee, they could lose both lives and property. On the other hand, if Madrien takes Southgate, only a handful will lose their lives, but all will lose their power and property, especially their power over women. And if Dramur should invade and capture the city, then over time, quietly but surely, they will lose lives, property, and power. So the seltyr has been playing Dramur against Lanachrona for years."

  'And not Madrien?" Alucius let skepticism creep into his voice.

  Gerayn laughed. "Once or twice, he has suggested to the Matrial that it would be more in her interest to have Southgate independent than controlled by either Dramur or the Lord-Protector."

  'Which would be worse? For Madrien?"

  Gerayn shrugged. "Dramur would harm Madrien less, but the women in Southgate would suffer even more than they do now."

  Alucius recalled Hassai, and the cooper's wife who had fled Southgate, as well as some of the other merchants in the marketplace at Zalt. And Dramur would be worse?

  'Is Seltyr Benjir old?"

  'He is not a young man, but he has a good ten or fifteen years of vigorous life ahead of him, or so I have been told. As seltyrs go, he is more fair than most, and that angers many. There have been several attempts on his life."

  'Because he is fair?"

  'No one really wants fairness, squad leader. Those who have little want more, and they claim that it is right and fair that they should.

  Those who have much claim that their prosperity and power come from their abilities, and that also is fair. Those who would be even-handed anger both those who have little and those who have much."

  Alucius decided against asking whether Gerayn thought the Matrial was fair. "I suppose it's always been that way. Does that mean that some of the seltyrs would support Dramur or Lanachrona?"

  'There is one who comes from a Dramuran family, and who might prosper under Dramuran rule, but the rest would fall quickly. None would do well under the Lord-Protector, but they all fear each other, almost as much as outsiders."

  Southgate sounded worse than Madrien or Lanachrona, but then, what he heard came from a Matrite woman officer. Still… women fled Southgate, and they did not flee Madrien, from what Alucius knew. He almost snorted, considering that men could not flee Madrien, not without almost certain death.

  'You look amused, squad leader." Gerayn leaned back in the saddle for a moment.

  'Surprised, and not surprised. You make it sound as though the seltyrs all know that they are doomed, and yet they will do nothing to change."

  'No one who has power will give it up easily," Gerayn pointed out. "Even you would rather be a squad leader than a trooper, would you not?"

  Alucius laughed, although he would far rather have been a herder than either, and he wanted the herding way of life to last, although he worried that it might not, caught as the Iron Valleys seemed to be between Lanachrona and Madrien.

  'So are the seltyrs any different?" asked the tariff officer.

  Alucius didn't answer the question. It needed no answer. But Gerayn had given him another answer as well.

  Northeast of Iron Stem, Iron Valleys

  In cool night air, three figures looked eastward, watching as Selena rose over the rim of the Aerial Plateau. Once the full orb of the moon cleared the plateau, Royalt turned to face the wooden platform, set on a low rise west of the stone dwelling of the stead. The two women followed his example.

  The herder said nothing. He squared his shoulders and faced the platform and the body that lay upon it.

  Abruptly, a spike of light flared from the platform, a beam that fluoresced both black and green, yet not mixed, nor of either color alone.

  Royalt's eyes followed the light. Then the light spear vanished—as had the figure and the platform upon which she had been placed.

  For a long moment, Royalt remained looking, before he lowered his head. His rugged frame shook for a moment before he finally straightened.

  The open lands remained silent, as if even the endless wind had ceased in recognition of what had occurred.

  After a time, the younger woman looked to Lucenda. "She hung on for so much longer than…" Wendra's voice broke.

  'I'm glad you've been here," Lucenda said. "You'll be able to tell Alucius. When he returns. One way or another, he'll return to you."

  'You keep saying that he's alive. How do you… how can…?" Wendra shook her head.

  'Herders can tell." Royalt's eyes dropped to the silver wristguard with the seamless line of shimmering black crystal that circled it.

  'The wristguard?" Wendra asked.

  'That and Talent."

  'Why doesn't Alucius have a wristguard?"

  'He does," Royalt replied. "It's in the house, along with the ring."

  Lucenda raised her eyebrows.

  'She should know," Royalt said, before turning back to the younger woman. "A herder and his wife are linked in more ways than one, and the longer they're together, the stronger that bond is, and it extends in a lesser way to children and grandchildren. That's why Veryl hung on for so very long, until she knew Alucius would be coming home soon."

  'He is?" Wendra asked. "He is? How…?"

  'It won't be that soon, but he will, one way or another."

  This time, Wendra shivered, understanding all that the words meant.

  Royalt smiled faintly. "I'll see you two in the house. I need to check the lambing shed."

  With those words he was gone, leaving Lucenda and Wendra standing on the empty rise.

  Wendra swallowed, realizing all of the implications of the older man's words, and she turned to Lucenda. "How long…?"

  'He's strong, Wendra. It could be two years, three, perhaps longer, but in the end the dark ties will not be denied."

  'But you?"

  'Ellus was not a herder born, and neither was I, for all that I am the children of herders, and we did not have that long together. Yet we had long enough that I would have no other. It happens that way, sometimes." Lucenda turned away from the younger woman. "We should head back to the kitchen. Father would like some hot cider. He won't ask, but he'd like it."

  Slowly, Wendra followed Lucenda, back toward the lights of the stead house.

  Salcer was less than half day away at the pace the convoy was making, but Alucius felt impatient, as if he were being pushed, or told to keep moving. Yet no one had said anything, and it was just past midmorning, which meant that they would make Salcer well ahead of schedule.

  Was it that he knew he had to find a way to escape? He almost shook his head. He could have escaped weeks before—except that merely deserting and trying to find his way back to the Iron Valleys was no answer, not when both lands well might regard him as a deserter. And he certainly didn't want to become a mercenary for the Lanachronans, which was the only task besides herding in which he had skills others would paid for. He had to find a better way—and he didn't have that much time left.
he feared. Every time he looked at the green scarf, now in his saddlebags he was reminded.

  As he pondered, Alucius leaned forward in the saddle and studied the eternastone high road ahead. In the distance to the north, he couk barely make out the shape of a southbound resupply convoy, with sev eral companies of troopers, headed toward them. The road patrol he had sent out had not reported back to confirm that the convoy was Matrite, but the grayness Alucius sensed with his Talent told him that the troopers had to be Matrite, not that he expected anything else sc close to Salcer.

  'Those must be the reinforcements for Zalt," suggested Captair Gerayn, riding to the left of Alucius.

  'They may well be, sir. I can see wagons as well, and one looks overlarge."

  'If they have supplies, so much the better. They'll need more after harvest, with all the damage to the fields."

  Before a quarter glass had passed, one of the road patrol trooper rode back southward. In time, he reached Alucius and the captain, and swung his mount alongside Alucius.

  'Captain, squad leader, sirs, the captain of the convoy requests the right of way. She has an overlarge and heavy wagon." The trooper inclined his head to Gerayn, then to Alucius.

  'She shall have it," Gerayn affirmed.

  Alucius studied the road and the shoulder ahead. From what he could see, the shoulder was broader and more firm close to a vingt ahead where the roadbed was level with the crest of a gentle rise. "I'd suggest that we pull over on the shoulder by that rise ahead, sir."

  'That would be good, squad leader. Order it." Gerayn turned to the patrol trooper. "Tell the convoy captain that we will be pulling over ahead there on the rise."

  'Yes, sir."

  Once the trooper had turned and was riding back northward, Alucius swung Wildebeast back south. First, he told the squad immediately following, "We'll be pulling over and taking a break on the shoulder on the right side where the road and rise meet, about a vingt ahead."

  'Yes, sir," replied the junior squad leader.

  Alucius continued riding southward, informing the wagon drivers, and then the squad following the wagons, before turning and returning on the left side of the road to rejoin Gerayn.

  When they reached the rise, Alucius turned Wildebeast to face those following him. "Onto the shoulder, and stand down. Forward squad, you may dismount and stretch your legs." Later, he'd have them remount, and let the rear squad dismount.

  Once the entire short convoy was on the shoulder, he dismounted, then took a long swallow of water, and watched. The captain dismounted, but did not bother with drinking any water, but then, Alucius reflected, she was a southerner.

  When the southbound convoy was a half vingt to the north, Alucius remounted, as did Gerayn.

  'Forward squad, remount!" After that order, he rode past the three wagons and gave the command for the rear squad to stand down.

  Then he rode forward and waited with the captain. A full company of horse led the column heading southward, with a vanguard of one squad, followed by an undercaptain and a senior squad leader, then by the remaining nine squads.

  The undercaptain inclined her head to Gerayn as she rode past. "Captain."

  'Undercaptain."

  Behind the squads rolled a six-wheeled wagon with the oversized axles, rumbling over the eternastones toward them. Although a worn black tarpaulin covered what was in the bed of the wagon, the brown uniform of the man sitting beside the driver and the shape of the load told Alucius what the cargo might be.

  He turned to Gerayn. "If you would excuse me for a moment to greet an old acquaintance?"

  An expression between amusement and curiosity crossed the captain's face, but she nodded.

  Alucius eased Wildebeast forward toward the oversized wagon, then swung his mount to ride beside the engineer, who looked up, startled.

  'Engineer Hyalas?" Alucius was surprised that he had remembered the man's name. He was also surprised at the apparent vividness and strength of the purple-tinged pink Talent thread that seemed to flow northward from the engineer's torque.

  'Yes?" Hyalas's voice was wary.

  'Squad Leader Alucius, sir." Alucius gestured toward the huge six-wheeled wagon. "Is that the rebuilt crystal-spear thrower?"

  'What do you know about that?" Hyalas's eyebrows lifted, and he seemed more curious than offended.

  'Once I helped you transfer the parts after the time when it exploded in the north."

  'Oh…" Hyalas nodded. "This is a better version. The Southern Guards will find that out."

  'That's good." Alucius had thought about asking why the device wasn't headed northward and decided against it. "The companies in Zalt could use some help, sir."

  'You came from there, I take it?"

  'Yes, sir." Alucius turned and nodded to the captain who rode up. "Captain, sir."

  'Why are you here, squad leader?"

  'I'd helped the engineer before, captain, and I'd just wanted to tell him how welcome his work would be."

  'You've told him, I take it?"

  'Yes, sir." Alucius nodded, and eased his mount onto the shoulder.

  He watched as the unknown captain rode over to Gerayn, spoke briefly, and then rejoined the resupply convoy.

  After five standard-sized supply wagons passed, and then the last of the additional two horse companies, Alucius rode back to join Gerayn.

  'You knew the engineer?" asked Captain Gerayn. "I hope you did, because I told Captain Ulayn that."

  'I'd done work for him, sir," Alucius admitted.

  The captain laughed. "As a captive, I'd wager."

  'Yes, sir." Alucius let himself grin.

  She shook her head. "You're a dangerous man, squad leader."

  Not so dangerous as he needed to become. That was clear. Alucius feared that he was far from dangerous enough, but so long as he was not thought that dangerous, unlike the unfortunate engineer, that might be an advantage.

  He hoped so. He also hoped he could discover why he suddenly felt that his time was so short—and that he could do something about it.

  Once Alucius had made sure that the wagons had been properly blocked and secured for the night in the wagon yard adjacent to the armory at Salcer, he arranged for billeting both the wounded returnees and the escort squads, and then unsaddled, groomed, and otherwise took care of Wildebeast. Only after all that did he slip away, dropping his gear on a bunk in the barracks bay for visiting squad leaders, and then making his way down one empty corridor and then another, looking for the equivalent of the library at Zalt. The search, although it took less than a quarter of a glass, seemed endless, but his reward was that the small musty room was clean—and vacant, the all-too-neatly shelved books looked as if they had not been read in years. The late afternoon light coming through the single narrow window was barely enough to give the room the illumination of twilight—or so it seemed.

  Alucius sat on a stool behind the reading desk and took a deep breath, trying to clear away all the thoughts and feelings that had besieged him in the last day. Why now? Because he knew that he had to do something to avoid being discovered in Hieron? Because he felt guilty for not acting sooner, for merely settling for survival?

  For scarcely the first time, Alucius felt that he needed to act. The wood-spirit had told him not to wait, but he had not acted, not to escape, or even to learn as much as he could have, or should have. The power of the purpled pink thread that bound the engineer had been a fearful reminder—and from somewhere else came a dark and nagging sense of urgency. But why now?

  It made sense to go with the convoy to Hieron—that would bring him two hundred vingts closer to the Iron Valleys without pursuit and faster than he could travel on his own without being discovered and chased. But what could he do to prepare himself to act when the time came? It was clear that it would—and soon, even if he could not say why.

  He had once slipped through a Madrien camp unseen—or seen as a mangy dog. Did he still have that ability? Could he improve it? How could he not try?
<
br />   The first test should be in a place where he had every right to be, but where someone would have to recognize him, and that someone should be a trooper, not an officer. He stood and slipped from the musty library, closing the door quietly, and turning back down the corridor that would lead him back toward the stable.

  Halfway down the corridor, he met an undercaptain, a tall woman with red hair. He nodded in respect. "Sir."

  'Carry on, squad leader."

  Alucius hadn't dared to try the invisibility for the first time with an officer, but a corridor would be the perfect place, because he could look distracted, and if seen, apologize profusely.

  After leaving the barracks wing, he crossed the stone-paved courtyard, which was moderately busy, with troopers bringing in mounts from patrols or maneuvers. After accepting several acknowledgments with a polite "Carry on," he entered the stable. Once inside, he eased himself to the outside stone wall, to the left of the open doors, and concentrated on projecting the feeling that nothing was there, nothing except a faint breeze drifting through the stable.

  Trying to hold that feeling, he walked toward a trooper who had apparently just stabled a mount. The man walked by Alucius without even pausing.

  In his effort to hold the illusion, paradoxically, it seemed to Alucius, he was more aware of the purple-tinged pinkish thread that ran from the trooper's torque, vanishing, even to Alucius's Talent-sense, somewhere to the unseen north.

  Had it been just that trooper? Alucius waited, and shortly another trooper left a stall. Once more, he walked toward the man, this time almost directly. The second trooper ignored him, and, again, Alucius could see the pinkish collar thread.

  He slipped back to an inside wall, thinking. There, standing in the shadows of the stable, Alucius wondered how many threads filled the world. He'd certainly seen the pink lines of power, and those tinged with purple, and how they turned a man's—or a woman's—black aura to an oppressive gray.

  And he'd seen the brownish green ties of the wood-spirits to trees.