Finally, the captain stopped and pointed to the large chunk of sandstone with a glassy surface. “The stone melted on the side. Lightning doesn’t strike sideways, from what I know.” He gestured toward the larger jumble of stone upslope and west. “I found two pairs of boots in the rocks there.”
“That could happen. They might have been left there from when the garrison was taken,” Mykel said mildly.
“Those boots weren’t Cadmian issue, sir.”
“No, they weren’t.” Mykel half-sat, half-leaned on the edge of one of the irregular chunks of reddish sandstone, glad that the day was hazy enough that the sun wasn’t glaring out of the east.
“They looked like alector boots, and that’s a different question entirely, Majer.” Rhystan’s voice was polite, but hard. “And that melted stone looks like the ground looked in Dramur when the submarshal took out Vaclyn.”
Mykel could feel the tension in the other officer. He took a long breath. “It’s not what it seems or you think. I’ve been trying to keep all this quiet. I was hoping that nothing would happen before Submarshal Dainyl got my last dispatch.”
Rhystan nodded slowly, but he was still tense. “Was that the report that went on the sandox coach?”
“I sent the regular report to Colonel Herolt and a copy directly to the submarshal. When we go back, you can read the copy I kept. The same kind of burns and melting had happened at that stead to the northwest. Fabrytal took my word that they were from the flying creatures. We followed the traces, and I did go scout alone. You can ask him if you want. I didn’t find creatures. What I found was alectors wearing strange uniforms—black and silver—practicing with weapons like the lightcutters, except they were mounted on carts and tripods, and they were more powerful.”
“They could be another alector force, one we don’t know about.”
“They could be, but they weren’t. Not one that reports to the Marshal of Myrmidons. If they did, why did they kill the two holders?” Mykel had another question, one he wasn’t about to utter, and that was why the Myrmidons, if they did have the vaunted Tables, didn’t know about the rebel alectors. “And then there was the squad leader in the garrison here. Poeldyn or Styndal said that he got burned up, but the others got shot or stabbed, but he was the one who had a talent for hitting what he aimed at.”
Rhystan stood there silently.
“The other thing is that Troral was telling me that the regional alector has been purchasing a great deal more in the way of supplies in the last season or so. Now…if this alector force happens to be on our side, with those kinds of weapons, why are we here?”
“You’re suggesting an alector rebellion. That’s…”
“Unthinkable?” Mykel laughed, harshly. “Then take the other alternative. It’s not a rebellion. If it’s not a rebellion, why was the garrison slaughtered? And by whom? We haven’t found a trace of any force that could have possibly done it.”
“I’d rather not consider what you’re suggesting, sir.”
“I don’t care what you’d rather not consider,” Mykel struggled to keep from snapping. “The fact is that we’ve got a strange alector force that probably killed the first garrison, and definitely killed the two holders. If they’re friendly, what were two of them doing scouting the garrison here, and firing at me? Have I ever done anything that wasn’t in the best interests of the Cadmians?”
After a moment, Rhystan shook his head. “No…you’ve risked more than any officer I know. But why…?”
Mykel would have liked to have shrugged. It would have hurt too much. “I don’t know. I wish I did. That’s why I sent a special dispatch to the submarshal. I don’t want us caught between two groups of alectors.”
“Do you think he’ll do anything?”
“They don’t like to waste things, and they don’t want Cadmians shooting at alectors. I’ve seen enough to know that, especially. Even if we’re dispensable, I don’t think the marshal would knowingly put us in a situation where we might have to fire at alectors. Given that, I don’t think they know.”
“That makes the most sense of what you’ve said. What do we do now?”
“We keep doing what we have been. Keeping the patrols away from where those alectors are practicing, avoiding the regional alector, and trying to get the new compound finished as fast as possible.” And hoping that Submarshal Dainyl will act sooner rather than later…before it’s too late.
Mykel rose carefully. “Unless you have anything else, let’s walk back. You need to read the dispatch I sent. Right now, I’d prefer that you keep this to yourself. Unless something happens to me, and then tell Culeyt.”
“I can see why…but the men are talking…” Rhystan paused. “They’ve always talked, though, about one thing and another.”
“Poeldyn said that this hill was unlucky, that strange things happened here. Let that get out. Suggest that it’s another reason why we’re relocating to the new compound.”
“That would work, if nothing else happens. Maybe, even if it does.”
Mykel glanced southward. “There should have been mounts, or something. I didn’t see or hear any last night.”
“There were tracks. Four mounts.”
“Frig….” Mykel shook his head. “That just proves it.”
“My thought as well, sir.” Rhystan paused. “Why didn’t they send more men?”
“They don’t have that many mounts—probably just the ones they stole from the garrison.” Mykel wanted to shake his head. Of course…. that was why they’d attacked the garrison. In an isolated town like Hyalt, where else would they get horses without it being noticed? Blame it on the strange creatures or local looters. Who would ever suspect the regional alector?
“Makes sense.” Rhystan offered a grim chuckle. “How do we get into these situations.”
“Easy…we’re Cadmians.”
As they neared the west gate, Rhystan looked at Mykel. “You almost passed out last night, didn’t you?”
“Why do you say that?” asked Mykel.
“You would have gotten rid of the boots and belts better, otherwise.” Rhystan laughed.
So did Mykel.
61
Dainyl sat on the stone bench in the Duarch’s Public Gardens, half-facing Lystrana and half looking westward in the general direction of Myrmidon headquarters. A warm breeze wafted around them, and the scents of summer flowers came and went with the caprices of the light wind. For a moment, he closed his eyes, inhaling the bouquet of fragrances and savoring the warm softness of the air.
“It is a pleasant afternoon,” she said. “It’s the kind that makes me want to come back every afternoon.”
“I thought you sometimes did. It’s only a short walk from the palace.”
“It’s not the same during the midweek. I’m always thinking about what’s waiting when I return, and whether Chembryt needs another analysis or briefing.”
Dainyl nodded. He understood that.
“Everything is so peaceful on Decdi, more so even than on Novdi afternoons.”
“I’ve always liked the gardens,” he replied, “especially in summer, when everything is green and blooming. It’s hard to believe so few take advantage of them.” Above the trees to his right, the green spire of the Hall of Justice soared into the sky, shimmering in the light, highlighted against one of the few scattered white cumulus clouds.
“I’m glad to see you enjoying the summer. You’ve been on edge for days.”
“It’s hard not to be. I feel like I’m waiting for something to happen.”
“Is it Brekylt and Alcyna?”
“I’m more worried about Hyalt. I should have seen it earlier. You told me about extra supplies and expenditures for Dulka, Hyalt…and Tempre…more than a season ago. After going to Dulka and finding out about what happened there, I should have seen that the same thing was possible in Hyalt. But Hyalt is so isolated, without any Myrmidons nearby.”
“Dulka is isolated as well, and they moved the Myrmidon
s. Do you know what’s happened there lately?”
“Outside of a new RA who’s doubtless more effective than Kelbryt was? Quivaryt is probably just as committed to Brekylt. Let’s see. Alcyna transferred Veluara there to command Seventh Company, and she’s another one of those sneaked in from Ifyrn.” Dainyl snorted. “Shastylt just tells me to leave it alone. That’s easy enough for him to say.”
“Do you really think matters are that bad in Hyalt?” Lystrana spoke slowly, reluctantly.
Dainyl felt she hadn’t really wanted to ask the question, but hoped he would talk about it and then return to appreciating the afternoon.
“They could be. They might even be worse. Or I could be worrying about nothing.”
“I don’t think you’re worrying about nothing.”
“Why not?” He chuckled. “You’re supposed to be diverting me, cheering me up, telling me not to worry that much.”
“Because Samist put through increases in the supply accounts for Dulka, Hyalt, Tempre, and Norda. The engineering sections in Hyalt and Fordall have been increased again—with engineers translated from Ifyrn.”
“And your Highest and Khelaryt and Zelyert have done nothing?”
“What could they do? Send you back with two companies of Myrmidons? Do we really want a battle between alectors?”
“The way matters are developing, that may not be a choice. The only choice may be when and where that battle takes place.”
“It’s all so senseless.” Lystrana’s words held a hint of bitterness. “It’s a wonderful world, and they’re all squabbling over who can tell whom what to do. The lowest alector here on Acorus has enough for the best of lives. But it isn’t enough. Nothing’s never enough. They’ll ruin everything. Khelaryt is trying so hard…and no one seems to care. I want Kytrana to be born into a world like this garden, and she could be. Why won’t they leave well enough alone?”
“Because someone always wants more,” Dainyl replied. “Still, for all of his scheming, I think Zelyert feels that way—at least some of the time. From what I can tell, although he’s never said a word about it in months, he’s afraid that bringing the Master Scepter here will just encourage more of the scheming and plotting.”
“He’s right. All of the plotting on Ifryn, and the attempted coups, and the infighting—I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re not one of the reasons why lifeforce declined there faster than anyone had thought.”
“Maybe that’s why Shastylt and Zelyert don’t want me to use the pteridons unless it’s absolutely necessary. When we use skylances, we burn lifeforce. A little is all right. It does regenerate, but for battles…”
“Can we talk about something else, dearest? Please? It’s a beautiful afternoon, and we can’t do anything about any of it right now.”
Dainyl reached out and took her hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.” He offered a smile, only slightly forced. “Do you think Kytrana will have blue eyes or violet eyes?”
“She’s an active child, already.” Lystrana placed the fingertips of her free hand on her abdomen. “You were very active, your mother says. So she’ll have blue eyes.”
“Violet, like yours,” Dainyl replied.
62
On Duadi morning, after concluding a less than satisfactory meeting with Colonel Dhenyr about the use of operations reports as a means to forecast maintenance requirements, Dainyl had just settled back into his chair for a moment of recovery when the duty messenger appeared in his study door.
“Submarshal…this arrived by sandox coach.” The duty messenger handed an envelope to Dainyl.
He took it. On the outside was written: Submarshal of Myrmidons Dainyl, Myrmidon Headquarters, Elcien. The handwriting looked familiar, yet he did not recognize it. Abruptly, he looked up. “Thank you.”
“Yes, sir.” The messenger closed the study door on the way out, although Dainyl had not requested it.
He opened the envelope, took out the sheets inside, and began to read. He read only a few lines before realizing that the report was not only from a Cadmian Battalion commander, but from Majer Mykel. He read quickly through the short report, frowning as he did. When he finished, he went back to the key section, reading it more carefully:
On Tridi…
Almost a week ago, Dainyl thought. But the majer has no faster way to send reports from Hyalt, not that he would dare trust. He continued.
…Fifteenth Company undertook a routine patrol of the roads to the west and northwest of Hyalt after a local factor reported unusual activities and the disappearance of a relative from a stead in the area. Because of the local concerns, I accompanied Undercaptain Fabrytal and Fifteenth Company. We verified that two holders had vanished from their stead. Unusual burn marks appeared on the ground around the stead and upon several buildings. While the locals had vanished, the stead had not been robbed, although some livestock had escaped.
Fifteenth Company made a thorough patrol of the area, but did not find any sign of the missing holder and his wife. In the course of the patrol, while conducting reconnaissance, I observed what appeared to be a squad of troopers. They wore uniforms of brilliant silver and black and were practicing with unfamiliar weapons. Because of the distance, it was not possible to discern the features of the troopers. The weapons they employed in their practice appeared to be similar to the skylances used by Myrmidons, but there were no pteridons in evidence, and the weapons were mounted on tripods on small wagons.
These matters may already be known to the Marshal of Myrmidons, and if it is, I apologize for including these details…
Dainyl read it again. Why had the majer sent it to him, rather than the marshal directly? Because he knew Dainyl would read it, and he was worried about the time it would take for Colonel Herolt to forward it. That was the obvious answer, but Dainyl had the feeling that there was far more there. Majer Mykel had to have known that the “troopers” were alectors, and the speed of the report suggested strongly he also knew they were not supposed to be near Hyalt—and that meant the majer could become an even bigger problem.
Dainyl shook his head. Once more, the majer could wait…would have to wait, because Brekylt was a far greater danger. Not only was he building a force, but that force was using weapons forbidden by the duarches. And…once again, Lystrana had been right.
Report in hand, he walked down the corridor to the marshal’s study.
“Now what?” asked Shastylt, even before Dainyl had taken more than two steps into his study. “You have that look, the one that tells me I’m not going to like what you’re about to tell me. What is it?”
“Brekylt is training troops, probably alectors, in the use of lifeforce weapons at Hyalt.” Dainyl left it at that.
“Precisely how did you discover that?”
“A report from the Cadmians.” Dainyl held it up. “The majer didn’t claim that. He was very cautious. He only noted that troopers in shimmering black and silver uniforms were practicing with weapons on tripods that worked like skylances, and he apologized for reporting it if it were something of which you were aware. He also noted that two holders vanished, and strange black marks had burned parts of their holding, but nothing had been taken.”
Shastylt’s jaw tightened. His left eye twitched, something Dainyl had seen but once or twice in years.
“Sir,” Dainyl offered deferentially, “it may also be that Rhelyn can employ those weapons in places or at times where skylances cannot be used.”
“You’ll have to see that he doesn’t.”
“I’ll will do my best.”
Shastylt paused. “I’ve ordered the weapons artisans at Faitel to develop something for use against the ancients. It was designed to be used where pteridons cannot fly. It won’t be ready for some months, but…”
Dainyl wasn’t quite certain how to read the marshal’s words. Were they a veiled suggestion not to be too rash in dealing with Rhelyn, or a veiled threat that the device could be used in place of Dainyl if he failed to be
effective?
“If I might read that report…”
Dainyl extended it.
The marshal read through it—quickly—and handed it back. “It’s written as a copy. The original probably went to Herolt. Worse luck, but we can’t blame the majer for that. You make two copies of that personally, and give them to me. Keep the original copy locked away.”
“Yes, sir.” Dainyl had no doubts that there were at least two more copies—the one that had gone to the colonel and the one for the majer’s personal files.
“Forbidden lifeforce weapons, Brekylt’s colors, and where steers can observe. That is provocation enough.” Shastylt smiled coldly. “Submarshal, you have my leave to implement your plan for Hyalt immediately. I will, of course, forward copies of the report to Zelyert and Khelaryt.”
The use of the Duarch’s name without a title was another indication that Shastylt was angry, not just concerned.
“There is one other thing you should consider, sir.”
Shastylt raised his jet black eyebrows.
“The majer sent that copy of the report directly to me.”
“Did he say why?”
“No, sir. As you noted, it was a copy of the report to his colonel. I would judge that he felt we needed to know faster than the normal reporting channels.”
“Or that he doesn’t trust his colonel.” Shastylt frowned. “Why to you?”
“He was one of the company commanders in Dramur. He knows he is going outside channels. I suspect that he wanted a better chance for the report to be read quickly.”
“Is he the one that was nearly killed by the battalion commander for trying to carry out his assigned tasks?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That makes it even worse. If he’s worried enough…”
“That’s why I thought you should know.”
“Can you leave as soon as you make those copies?”
Cadmian's Choice Page 38
