Soarer's Choice

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Staetyl’s eyes widened as Dainyl followed Sevasya into the narrow cell. The undercaptain stiffened. “You may execute me, but that will not change matters.”

  “I believe that’s the point,” Dainyl replied. “You and Josaryk and Brekylt wanted to change things to have your own Duarchy. That’s not an acceptable change, especially when you try to implement it through mutiny.” Dainyl could sense that Staetyl had been born on Acorus, but birthplace was no indicator of treachery, one way or the other.

  In the end, Dainyl executed all eight of the mutinous Myrmidons, disliking each killing more than the previous one. But as High Alector, he needed to make a statement that disloyalty had a high and immediate price. And Sevasya, Alcyna, and he—and Khelaryt—needed the pteridons without going through the lengthy process of transferring each from a living flier.

  After he finished the distasteful task, he and Sevasya stood in the entry foyer of the Myrmidon building.

  “By definition, as senior Myrmidon, you’re now the acting submarshal of Myrmidons in the east,” Dainyl said. “Marshal Alcyna will make the rank permanent. For now, Seventh Company will remain in the west, and Third Company is officially in mutiny.”

  “Yes, sir.” Sevasya’s smile was simultaneously rueful and grim. “Has the Alector of the East made any statements or taken any other action against the Duarchy?”

  “He’s said nothing, and he’ll doubtless claim that he’s done nothing. If a recorder’s assistant had not escaped, and if you had not caught Josaryk, we wouldn’t even know about the attempts to subvert the Myrmidons.”

  “Might I ask what you intend to do? Do you have any orders for me?”

  “I don’t propose invading the east for now, but even if I did, I’d still have to report these events to the Duarch and request his approval. So, the next step is to inform the Duarch. Then we’ll see. At the moment, I can’t even confirm where the pteridons of Third Company are. Your orders are simple. Maintain Lysia as part of the Duarchy, reporting to the Duarch of Elcien. Use whatever force you must. I’m in the process of arranging resupply directly by ship.” Dainyl inclined his head. “Unless you have any more questions, I’ll be returning to Elcien.”

  “No, sir.” Sevasya smiled. “I’ll be most happy to maintain Lysia for the Duarch.”

  “I thought you might.”

  Dainyl hurried back across the paved courtyard and down the stairs cut from the stone itself back to the Table chamber. When he stepped into the Table chamber, he looked for Sulerya. She stood at the end of the Table itself.

  “You’d best make the translation quick, Highest,” said Sulerya. “Those energy pulses are continuing.”

  “Thank you—for the information and the warning. As acting submarshal, Majer Sevasya has orders to maintain Lysia loyal to the Duarch of Elcien.”

  “You have an interesting way of phrasing things, Highest.” Sulerya’s green eyes twinkled.

  “I’m certain that the Duarch of Elcien wishes to maintain the Duarchy,” replied Dainyl, stepping onto the Table. “As does the senior alector of Lyterna.”

  He concentrated on the darkness beneath, and slipped……into the cool purpled light. There he concentrated on the white locator that was Elcien, and then he was through the silvered-white barrier.

  One of the guards gaped as Dainyl stepped off the Table.

  Chastyl turned, paused for just a moment, then spoke. “Highest…I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Because of the fluctuations in the tube?”

  “Yes, sir. We’ve had several more wild translations. Very wild. Oh…sir?”

  Dainyl stopped.

  “You might wish to know that High Alector Ruvryn appeared while you were in Lysia. He went to the Duarch’s Palace. He did not ask where you were, and we did not volunteer that information.”

  “Thank you. Keep me informed as you can. I’ll be at the Palace for a time.” Dainyl left the chamber at a fast walk, hurrying into Adya’s study. “Is the coach back?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s standing by.”

  “I’m headed to see the Duarch. I’ll be back when I can get here.” Dainyl wasn’t about to send a written message about Brekylt’s treachery or a verbal one unless he delivered it personally.

  Dainyl hurried up the hidden stairs and then through the Hall of Justice and down the outer steps to the coach. The lowering clouds promised some sort of cold rain, but none was falling as he climbed into the coach.

  While he rode the short distance to the Palace, he tried to anticipate what might happen next. Brekylt still had close to three hundred alectors, more than enough to replace all alectors in the east who might be loyal to the Duarchy, particularly since Brekylt had been filling positions with those loyal to him for years. With the pteridons of Third Company, and the lightcannon Ruvryn and the engineers at Fordall had created, Brekylt was in a good position to defy the Duarches. And…if Samist backed Brekylt…

  Dainyl shook his head. He’d have to leave that to Khelaryt.

  Bharyt stepped forward even before Dainyl was fully through the archway from the entry rotunda at the Palace. “Highest…”

  “Bharyt, I haven’t been summoned, but I have urgent news.”

  “He is meeting with High Alector Ruvryn, sir.”

  “He should know this news before that meeting is over. Is there any way you could ask him to step out? I promise that it will only take moments.”

  “I think I can manage that, sir. For you. He is in the conference room.”

  Dainyl followed the Palace functionary down the column-lined corridor he felt he had walked too often recently.

  Outside the conference room, Bharyt stepped to the door, opened it just slightly, and sent the quickest of Talent pulses. Then he stepped back.

  In moments, the Duarch stepped out into the corridor. His eyes went from Bharyt to Dainyl. A steely purpled darkness hovered around him. “You knew I was in a meeting?”

  Bharyt eased back several yards.

  “Yes, sir. When I heard with whom you were meeting, I felt it was imperative you know this. Brekylt and his assassins murdered Noryan and half of Third Company this morning. They also got one of those lightcannon and used it to kill one Myrmidon trying to use a pteridon to escape. Officially, Third Company has mutinied. Effectively, it belongs to Brekylt. Fourth Company is in Lysia, under the overall command of Majer Sevasya. Eight Myrmidons in the company, including Captain Josaryk, attempted mutiny. They’re all dead, and Majer Sevasya had enough trainees to replace them. She is acting submarshal. In addition, there are energy fluctuations coming from Ifryn that may affect the translation tubes, but it’s not possible to tell the cause or whether the fluctuations will abate, or worsen.”

  “You’re quite resourceful, Dainyl. Only losing one company out of four…”

  “Two out of eight, possibly, sir. And the spreading of lightcannon worries me. They can draw down lifeforce quickly.”

  “True. Is that all?”

  “That’s all for now. I can provide details as you wish. I wanted you to know as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you. The details will have to wait.” Khelaryt nodded and turned, reentering the conference room.

  Bharyt escorted Dainyl back down the corridor. Neither spoke.

  Just short of the archway leading out to his waiting coach, Dainyl stopped, then turned. “Thank you, Bharyt. I appreciate your help and forbearance.”

  “You are welcome, sir.”

  Dainyl nodded and hurried back out to the rotunda. “Myrmidon headquarters.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dainyl half climbed, half jumped up into the coach, then sat back trying to think how he should handle the situation in the east. Despite the assassinations, there was no real proof of an actual attempt by Brekylt to seize power.

  Once the coach pulled up outside the gates, Dainyl hurried through the almost-freezing drizzle into Myrmidon headquarters. He barely nodded at the duty officer—Undercaptain Chelysta—as he turned left and went down th
e corridor to the marshal’s study.

  Alcyna stood abruptly as Dainyl barged in and shut the door behind him.

  “Sir?”

  “I was summoned to Lysia, but Sulerya’s assistant didn’t let me know why. There, I found out that Noryan got the orders we sent, but someone let Brekylt know. Brekylt took a team of assassins to Norda and murdered Noryan and half of Third Company in the middle of the night, more toward this morning. They used a lightcannon as well. The rest threw in with Brekylt. So you’ve got a mutiny of Third Company. Josaryk attempted the same thing in Lysia, but Sevasya caught him and the seven others. They’re all dead, but Sevasya had enough trainees to replace them. In effect, she’s acting submarshal.”

  “The ones in Lysia are all dead?”

  “I executed them. Both Josaryk and Staetyl were quite certain that the Duarches are weaklings and that only Brekylt is fit to govern Corus.”

  “Were they shadowmatched?”

  “No. They really believed it.”

  Alcyna shook her head. “Unless you have objections, I’ll appoint Sevasya as submarshal.”

  “I’d hoped you’d see it that way.”

  “Who else is there? Fhentyl and Lyzetta are too junior, and Elysara is committed to stay at Lyterna.” She paused. “What will the Duarches do?”

  “What can they do? Officially, we’ve had a mutiny and an attempted mutiny, nothing more. Brekylt will deny everything, and he’ll claim the Myrmidon problems are all because the Myrmidons lack effective leadership or something like that.”

  “The implication will be that alectresses can’t lead.” Alcyna’s voice was cold. “He won’t say that, of course. Not in public.”

  “And I’ll be at fault for choosing you.”

  “It’s a wonderful pattern,” Alcyna said. “Shastylt, Zelyert, and Brekylt all create this mess, and then when everything’s falling apart, and you and Khelaryt put in some alectresses to try to undo the damage, we all get blamed for all the problems they created.”

  “Of course,” replied Dainyl. “There weren’t any problems until all these alectresses started ordering alectors around.”

  Alcyna snorted, her eyes flickering to the window and the gray drizzle beyond. “What will you do?”

  “Whatever I can to put an end to it. But I’d like a glass or two to think about it.”

  “Sir?”

  “Yes?”

  “There is one other thing. I had one of the fliers ferry me over to see Colonel Herolt first thing this morning. I’d just gotten back when you arrived. You were right. He had a partial shadowmatch.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I thought about removing it, but that might make matters even worse. Shastylt put in a suicide link.”

  “So that if anyone tried to remove it, he’d suicide?”

  “More like he’d do something so risky he was bound to die.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Just added a modification, so that he can’t order anything that might endanger the survival of an entire company. If he feels that way, he has to defer to the site commander.” She shrugged. “I thought it was worth a try. If it doesn’t work, then we’re not that much worse off, since he can’t really issue direct orders to his battalion commanders anyway.”

  “That had to be Shastylt.”

  “He didn’t want the Cadmians to be too effective.”

  “I think he was afraid of them if they had good leadership at the top. From what I can tell, strange things happened to bright captains. Very few ever became majers.”

  “But why?”

  “Can you imagine two thousand Cadmians with explosives and large-bore weapons?”

  “They couldn’t do that much damage against lightcutters.”

  “I wonder,” mused Dainyl. Inside, he didn’t wonder at all. Majer Mykel’s battalion had used rifles to destroy close to fifty alectors armed with lightcutters in a single afternoon, and the Cadmians had incurred only moderate casualties. Dainyl understood Shastylt’s fear, yet he also recalled the ancient’s words about Acorus needing both alectors and landers. And much as he might wish otherwise, he could not forget that he owed his life to the majer.

  Alcyna looked at him sharply. “You know something.”

  “Shastylt was half-right. The Cadmians could be very dangerous, but killing off the obviously bright officers won’t solve that problem. Sooner or later, officers who are even brighter and who can see what happens to obviously bright officers will hide their brilliance and bide their time and get promoted, and then it will be too late.”

  “You would see that.”

  Dainyl ignored the reference. “I need to get back to the Hall of Justice.”

  He had to do something about Brekylt, before the Alector of the East split Corus into civil war and deployed lightcannon against the Myrmidons.

  82

  Late into the day, and then into the early evening, Dainyl remained in his private study beneath the Hall of Justice. There was no word from the Duarches, and no word from Brekylt. Nothing changed so far as the Tables were concerned—the energy fluctuations continued, but neither increased nor decreased in amplitude or frequency.

  Theoretically, Dainyl could recommend that the Duarches order the Myrmidons to attack Brekylt, but it was highly unlikely Khelaryt would agree to that since the Duarch had not summoned him back to the Palace. Duarch Samist would oppose such an effort. Even if the Duarches were united in that, Dainyl had real doubts about such a strategy’s success. Second Company would not obey that order, and sending First Company east would be foolhardy, since that would leave Elcien unprotected against Second Company. Fifth and Seventh Companies could be sent east, and perhaps the reconfigured Fourth Company. Sixth Company might comply, but Eighth Company was tied to Lysia. Four companies against one weren’t bad odds, except for several problems. First was the distance. The closest company to Alustre was Fourth, and it was a long day’s flight from Lysia. Sixth Company was more than two days away, and Fifth and Seventh were at least three days’ flight from Alustre. Add to that the fact that Brekylt had lightcannon and had no compunctions about using them—and Dainyl had no idea how many or where they might be. Nor did he know where Third Company was. Finally, in all probability, most of the alectors in the east probably supported Brekylt. And the situation was bound to get worse. Unless Brekylt was stopped, it was only a matter of time before Corus was split into factions, and Brekylt still might use the lightcannon, threatening everyone’s future in a form of lifeforce blackmail.

  Dainyl had an idea, but whether it would work was another question. That was what he needed to find out.

  Finally, he stood, leaving the platter that had held a casual meal of bread, cheese, and cold sliced ham on the table. He checked the charges in the two holstered lightcutters, then donned the green jacket and walked out of the study and down the corridor to the Table chamber.

  Diordyn was sitting on a stool between two guards. The other two guards stood on the far side of the Table. All watched the Table. Against the inner wall, Dainyl saw a small bundle of folded clothes, and a set of delicate shoes.

  “Highest? To Dereka?” asked Diordyn.

  “I’m going to test some things.” Dainyl stepped onto the Table, concentrating on the blackness beneath the purple of the translation tube.

  He slipped into the purple-shaded twilight of the translation tube, letting his Talent-sense range beyond the tube itself, even deeper. After a moment, he focused on dropping into the greenish blackness beneath the tube.

  There was an instant flash of green, and he was beneath the translation tube. He could sense, not just the single “line” of the translation tube above him, but also a web of interconnected blackish green with points of brilliant amber-green. He was both within that web and yet able to view it from without.

  One of the blackish green points seemed not too “far” from the amber locator of Hyalt. Dainyl extended a Talent probe, but one sheathed in green. This time, he was aware of his o
wn motion, rather than feeling that the destination approached him. He came to a halt with the silver-green above him, not breaking or flashing through a barrier.

  Did he have to concentrate on leaving, in a fashion similar to what he did when entering a Table?

  Carefully, he visualized rising through soil or rock or what might be there. He could feel himself moving upward, and darkness—the true darkness of night—rising around him.

  But he was still somehow linked to the blackish green web. He looked down, abruptly aware that he could see with both eyes and Talent, and saw that the lower part of his trousers and his boots were “buried” in red stone. He concentrated on moving upward.

  Suddenly, Dainyl stood on a rocky uneven surface, and a cool wind blew around him. He had to take a quick step sideways to avoid falling. He was perched on a large chunk of sandy rock. Carefully, he eased himself off the rock and onto the narrow ground between two boulders that were parts of a rocky jumble.

  Where was he?

  He glanced up, but clouds covered most of the night sky, although he caught a quick glimpse of the green disc of Asterta before the smaller moon was covered by a fast-moving cloud. He looked to his right, down a long slope toward a ruined compound of some sort, and the town beyond. It was familiar…Hyalt!

  He took a deep breath, even as he turned to the west, where he could barely sense the RA’s complex, still being repaired and rebuilt.

  He’d done it. Once, at least.

  He’d also learned that the ancients’ web allowed more freedom in exiting, but there was also the problem of figuring out where he was headed before he got there.

  He felt a drop of rain on the back of his neck, and to the south, lightning flashed, and a rumble of thunder followed.

  He didn’t sense a green point or locator, but he could sense the darkness beneath the ground. Could he link to the blackish green web from where he stood? He might as well try. Dainyl concentrated once more, thinking about the blackness beneath.

  Nothing happened, except that several more drops of rain pattered down around him.