“Yes, sir. I’ll stop by my house for my gear, if that’s satisfactory.”
“Of course.”
Dainyl inclined his head, then turned and departed.
Once back in his study, Dainyl began to copy the report immediately. Thankfully, it was short. He made three copies, despite the extra time it cost him, and then handed two of them to the marshal before he took the duty coach home and had it wait for him.
Lystrana was not home, but he left a note on the bed for her, saying very little except that he was on an urgent mission and didn’t know when he would be back. Knowing his wife, he had the feeling she might understand where he was headed, and possibly why, but those were not matters he wished to place in writing to anyone. He took one of the spare sidearm holsters, and added it and the weapon to his belt.
The third sidearm went in the small kit bag he packed.
For a long moment, he stood in the bedchamber. He could smell the faint and lingering fragrance of Lystrana, and he recalled what she had said in the Duarch’s gardens…about Acorus being a wonderful world, if people just wouldn’t ruin it. Would what he was about to begin preserve the goodness, or was it a mere reaction that would lead to the same ruinous end?
Finally, he picked up the bag and his flying jacket, and headed back out to the waiting coach. While it was too warm to wear the jacket in Elcien, he had no doubts that he would need it for at least the first part of the flight from Dereka to Hyalt.
Zelyert was not in the Hall of Justice, and the duty assistant barely looked at Dainyl as he walked past her and into the Table chamber. Chastyl remained out of sight, although Dainyl sensed another presence somewhere nearby. Since the recorder was clearly avoiding him, Dainyl donned the flying jacket, then stepped up onto the Table, and concentrated on the darkness beneath. He dropped into the darkness…
…a purpled blackness than seemed neither so dark as it once had, although it was certainly not any less chill. He focused on the crimson-gold locator that both represented—and was—Dereka.
Around him in the darkness that was the translation tube, he not only sensed his destination nearing him, but also that many others had used the tube lately, and all with a deeper purple tinge. Were those remnants an indicator of stepped-up long translations from Ifyrn? Or of wild translations? Both?
Behind and beyond the darkness, he was once more aware of a deeper black, and of traces of greenish gold. Why were the ancients more active? Because of the greater number of long translations? Or because of whatever Brekylt and Samist were implementing in Hyalt?
Before he could speculate further, a faint shower of crimson-gold flew away from him, and…
…he was standing on the Table in Dereka. Barely the slightest trace of foggy mist wafted away from him as he stepped down onto the stone floor.
“That was a very smooth translation, Submarshal. Only the slightest hint of the cold fog.” Recorder Jonyst was waiting in the doorway at the foot of the staircase to the upper level library.
“Good afternoon, Jonyst.”
“Good afternoon, Submarshal. I’d hoped I wouldn’t be seeing you this soon again.”
Dainyl raised his eyebrows as he carried his kit toward the recorder.
“Where you travel, trouble always has followed.”
“Mere coincidence.” Dainyl laughed, if slightly uneasily.
“Coincidence implies a randomness I have not seen around you.”
“What trouble do you foresee this time?”
“If I knew that, Submarshal, I might not be so worried.” Jonyst offered an ironic smile. “Most likely, I’d be more worried.” His eyes dropped to Dainyl’s belt, clearly taking in the two sidearm holsters.
“Is Yadaryst up to something?”
“The honorable regional alector left for Ludar this morning. He has not yet returned, but I expect he will be back shortly. He seldom remains overnight in Ludar.”
“He doesn’t trust his cousin?”
“Would you?” Jonyst’s voice dripped irony.
Dainyl shrugged. The gesture seemed safer. “What else should I know?”
“Little has happened in Dereka since you were last here—except for the collapse of a section of the aqueduct. The city was without water for two days. A stone support in the mountains collapsed. How eternastone could collapse was not made clear to me, but it happened.”
The ancients? Or one of Brekylt’s weapons? As much as anything made sense, the ancients testing the alectors seemed more likely to Dainyl. Certainly, without water, Dereka would be uninhabitable for long with its current population.
“Might I ask why you are here?”
“To look in on young Captain Fhentyl. As I can, I do try to keep in touch with those company commanders who might need my presence.”
“The captain needs it less than many, from what I’ve heard.”
“He may need little supervision, indeed,” replied Dainyl, “but submarshals need to feel that their presence is salutatory.”
Jonyst laughed. “Guersa is down below. I’m certain she’ll be pleased to take you wherever you need to go.”
“Thank you.”
The recorder only accompanied Dainyl so far as the upper level library, but Dainyl could feel Jonyst’s eyes and Talent following him.
Guersa waited with the coach in the covered space just beyond the lower door. She was removing a fodder bag from one of the horses as he stepped out of the archway.
“Submarshal, sir!” The driver smiled warmly and quickly stowed the bag in the space under the driver’s bench. “Do you need help with your gear?”
“No, thank you, Guersa.” Dainyl had to wonder at her warmth. Landers were usually reserved around alectors. Was that because she had worked closely with Jonyst? The young blonde certainly had no Talent, except for the ability to put people at ease, an ability Dainyl did not have instinctively and often had wished he had. “To the Myrmidons.” He paused. “How have things been for you?”
Although Guersa still smiled, Dainyl could sense that his pleasantry had surprised her.
“Except for the time two weeks back when we didn’t have water, it’s been a good spring and summer, sir.”
“Anything happen out of the ordinary?”
“Not having water wasn’t ordinary, but it didn’t take that long for the engineers to get matters fixed. That could be because there were a lot of them.”
A lot of engineers? In Dereka? Dainyl didn’t like that. “It’s good that they could fix it quickly.”
“Yes, sir.”
He climbed into the coach and set his kit on the seat across from him, closing the coach door. The small windows were down.
As Guersa turned the coach southward on the main boulevard, Dainyl looked out at the city. The sun hung barely above the peaks of the Upper Spine Mountains, to the west, bearing just a trace of gold against the silver-green sky. Asterta was at its zenith, but Selena had not yet risen.
He surveyed the streets and shops as the coach carried him southward, but he could neither see nor sense anything unusual. That bothered him. Was he too late? But…too late for what?
He shook his head and continued to watch the city as he passed through it, but there were no more guards than usual outside the RA’s palacelike building.
When Dainyl stepped out of the coach outside the gate to the Myrmidon compound, he turned to the driver. “Thank you.”
“Will you be needing a ride back, sir?”
“Not tonight. I can send a messenger if I need you tomorrow, can’t I?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Dainyl smiled, then lifted his kit, turned, and walked through the gate.
Captain Fhentyl was waiting when Dainyl walked into the Fifth Company headquarters building—although the captain was breathing rapidly.
“Good afternoon, Captain.”
“Sir…we didn’t expect…”
“Sometimes, it happens that way.” Dainyl smiled. “A moment, if you would, Captain.”
<
br /> “Oh, yes, sir. This way, sir.” The tall captain turned and led the way to his study.
Dainyl let Fhentyl enter first, then followed, and closed the study door behind himself.
Fhentyl shifted his weight from boot to boot. “Sir…is there…a problem?”
After a moment, Dainyl smiled politely. “Not that I know of. We’ll see tomorrow. I’ll be conducting a full kit inspection for all of Fifth Company, Captain. First thing tomorrow morning at muster. The entire company, with all deployment weapons and gear.”
“Yes, sir.” Fhentyl wasn’t experienced enough to hide his consternation and curiosity. “Yes, sir.” He looked as if he wanted to ask why, but did not dare.
“Every so often, it’s necessary. Your Myrmidons need to understand that they must be ready to fly at a moment’s notice. By giving you a little warning, I’m hoping that the next time won’t be as much of a shock. I expect everything to be ready at morning muster.”
“Yes, sir.” The captain paused. “There are rumors that something is happening in the east.”
“There are always rumors.” Dainyl laughed. “Few are anywhere near the truth.” These days, the rumors are less disturbing than the truth is proving to be.
He would have liked to have said more, but while he trusted Fhentyl, he didn’t trust much of anything else in Dereka, except perhaps Jonyst, and surprisingly, his driver. So far he Dainyl could tell, even the walls might report to someone. “After I drop my kit in quarters, I’ll be walking through the compound.”
“Yes, sir.” Fhentyl looked concerned, but Dainyl gathered no sense of guilt.
That in itself was somewhat reassuring to Dainyl, but not enough to change his resolve about keeping his plans to himself until the last possible moment.
63
Wearing his flying jacket and carrying his own gear, Dainyl stepped out into the cool morning air that still filled the Myrmidon compound. Although the sky was a cloudless and bright silver-green, the sun had not yet cleared the higher peaks of the barrier range to the east of the compound, and the courtyard remained shadowed.
He had barely left the senior officers’ quarters before Captain Fhentyl approached.
“Good morning, sir.” Fhentyl inclined his head. “Is there anything…?”
“There is.” Dainyl smiled. “Fit one of the pteridons in first squad with a second saddle.”
“Yes, sir.” Fhentyl’s eyes dropped to the gear bag Dainyl carried. “Would you like that stowed on that pteridon?”
Dainyl couldn’t help grinning. “That would be helpful. Has anyone else figured it out?”
“No, sir. Well…if they have, no one’s saying.” Fhentyl took the gear bag.
“Good.”
“Sir? Can you tell me…?”
“Not yet. We still have an inspection to carry out. After the inspection, hold everyone in formation, and I’ll brief you and the squad leaders. Then we’ll lift off.”
“Right then?”
Dainyl nodded. “We have a very difficult situation facing us.” He paused. “Do you have any trainees who might become riders?”
“Just one, sir, that would be ready for a pteridon.”
“Better bring him, too.”
“Her. Her name is Brytra.”
“I hope we won’t need her, but it’s possible.”
“Let me take care of your gear and the two extra saddles, then, sir.” Fhentyl turned toward one of the support alectors and gestured.
Dainyl turned away and walked along the low pteridon squares, taking in the activity as the Myrmidons readied for muster. He listened as well as watched.
“…full gear inspection…”
“…don’t like that…means trouble…especially with a submarshal…”
“Especially this submarshal…”
Dainyl forced himself to keep walking.
“…pteridon he was flying got destroyed and he fell onto a pile of rock and survived…”
“…he got rid of two commanders…”
“Careful. That’s him over there.”
It seemed that no matter how much Dainyl had tried to keep matters quiet, things still filtered out, and usually inaccurately. He turned and walked briskly back to join Fhentyl at the front of the assembled company.
“Stand by for inspection!” Fhentyl’s voice carried across the compound, and the few murmurs died away.
The company commander turned to Dainyl. “Submarshal, Fifth Company stands ready for inspection.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Dainyl nodded and walked toward the first squad.
The inspection took only about a glass. Fhentyl had clearly passed the word, because Dainyl found no discrepancies—and he usually did. He’d been a ranker long enough to know where the fliers might cut corners, but from what he could tell, no one had.
After Dainyl completed surveying the last pteridon in the fourth squad, the two officers walked back to the front of the formation.
“I’ve seldom seen a company this well prepared on such short notice. What exactly did you tell them?”
Fhentyl smiled faintly. “Well, sir, I just said that I was a relatively new commander, but that you’d spent something like forty years as a ranker and had forgotten more tricks than I ever knew and that you liked to see things done right.”
Dainyl didn’t doubt Fhentyl’s words. He also suspected Fhentyl hadn’t told him everything he’d passed on to his squad leaders. “Call up your squad leaders.”
“Yes, sir.” The captain turned. “Squad leaders, forward!”
Once the officers arrived, Dainyl surveyed the four undercaptains—three men, one woman. He could sense the experience, probably more experience than Fhentyl had, but the captain held a certain charisma, as well as forethought. Dainyl had gathered that from his previous meeting with Fhentyl, and from the captain’s reports to headquarters.
After a moment, he spoke. “Captain, Undercaptains, Fifth Company is flying out this very moment. I’ll be directing the flight. I will announce our destination at the first rest break. I realize that this is an unusual procedure, but we face unusual circumstances. These will become clear as we near our objective.”
Fhentyl swallowed, ever so slightly.
“Any questions? Other than our destination, that is.”
“Can you tell us how long we’ll be gone?” asked Fhentyl.
“No. What happens in the next few days will determine that. It could be a very short deployment or one far longer. A great deal will be asked of you and your Myrmidons, and I think it’s fair to say that you were selected for this because you are the only company that could possibly accomplish what needs to be done.”
“Can we let anyone know?”
“Not at present. Surprise is important. Later, yes. I’m not taking you off somewhere, never to be heard from again.” Dainyl laughed. “Remember, I’m with you, and I also have a wife who’s expecting a child.”
He could sense a certain lessening of tension after his last remarks.
“Once you return to your squads, we’ll lift off immediately. I’ll be flying lead and point for the first leg.”
“No one leaves the courtyard,” Fhentyl added. He turned to Dainyl. “Is there anything else, sir?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Dismissed to squads. Prepare to lift off.”
“Yes, sir.”
As the squad leaders headed back to their squads, Fhentyl cleared his throat. “Sir, I have you flying with Galya in squad one. She’s one of the younger fliers, but very skilled.”
Dainyl recalled the Myrmidon, because she had been the only woman in first squad—and petite for an alectress. “And because she’s small…and less load on the pteridon?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s fine.” The other reason was unspoken. Fhentyl understood that whatever Dainyl had in mind was dangerous, and he didn’t want two officers on the same pteridon.
Dainyl walked across the courtyard toward first squad. According to th
e maps, and what he recalled from his own flying, there was a lake on the east side of the Upper Spine Mountains that would make a good restaging and briefing point.
64
Mykel felt better on Tridi—except when he moved suddenly—and riding out from the old garrison was almost a pleasure in the cool breeze from the northeast. The cooler weather was a welcome change from the hot dry air that had blanketed Hyalt for the past week.
He rode beside Culeyt, since Fourteenth Company would be relieving Thirteenth Company at the new compound. He would have preferred to have had all seven companies in one place—the new compound—but it would be weeks at best before that was possible, given the mess inside the walls. He’d hoped to be able to move the battalion sooner, but, as always, everything took longer than planned.
As they rode east from the high road along the dirt track that Third Battalion’s mounts had turned into a rough road, Culeyt cleared his throat.
“Sir? Where do you think all the strange creatures are coming from?”
“That’s a good question,” Mykel replied. “I wish I knew.”
“Never seen anything like them, and no one else has, either.”
Mykel had the feeling that wasn’t quite true. “Unless the alectors have. Maybe that’s why they have pteridons.”
“If that’s so, sir, why aren’t they here?”
“Maybe they will be, once the Marshal of Myrmidons gets my reports. In the meantime, Captain, they’re our problem.”
“Yes, sir.” Culeyt was silent for a time, then cleared his throat again. “Doesn’t it seem sort of funny, sir? I mean, the Myrmidons have their pteridons and skylances, and all we have is rifles and horses, but we’re here, and they’re not.”
“They were here,” Mykel pointed out, although he’d asked himself the same sort of questions more than a few times.
“But they didn’t stay.”
“No, they didn’t. The only thing I can figure is that there aren’t that many of them. There’s nothing in the organizational charts that says how many Myrmidons there are.”
“There isn’t?” Culeyt sounded surprised.
“No. I’ve done some figuring and listening, and I’d be surprised if there are more than ten companies of them. Their companies are much smaller than ours, maybe only twenty-five pteridons to a company. I heard somewhere that they have five to a squad. There’s a company in Elcien, and one in Ludar, and a couple in Alustre, and one in Dereka. That’s five. I’m sure there are others, but I haven’t seen anything on them. Now…how many companies do we have just in Elcien?”
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