Cadmian's Choice

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  The fierceness in her eyes softened—but only for a moment. “Then you know what you must do.”

  Mykel was afraid he did.

  She rose from the armchair. “I do not think I can tell you much you do not already know, Majer.”

  “You have told me much.” He stood, reluctant to depart, yet knowing her words were true.

  “I have only confirmed what you feared.”

  “You are a dangerous woman, Rachyla.”

  “Herisha’s nephew does not think so.”

  “The more fool he.”

  She did not answer, but turned toward the entry foyer. Mykel followed.

  Once in the foyer, she stepped aside and nodded toward the heavy door.

  He opened it, then inclined his head. “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome, Majer.” Her words were cool, dismissive.

  He stepped out onto the outer landing. The doorman shied away, pressing himself back against the wall.

  Feranot led the roan forward and handed the reins to Mykel, who mounted quickly, then looked back to Rachyla, who had remained standing in the doorway. Their eyes locked.

  She stepped back and closed the door. But her eyes remained on him until the door separated them.

  “Sir?” asked Vhanyr.

  “We need to head back. We have a few matters to take care of.” Such as figuring out how to deal with the returning alectors without disobeying orders and without getting killed.

  And he had to figure out why Rachyla had sent him an announcement that she was in Tempre, when it was clear she still regarded him as an enemy. Did she seek to play him off against the alectors?

  He smiled sardonically. That he would not put past her in the slightest.

  87

  Fhentyl stood waiting as Dainyl’s pteridon set down north of the way station late on Quattri afternoon. The flight had tired Dainyl, but not so much as he had feared it might, although he was stiff.

  Rather than hasten toward the captain, Dainyl stretched and glanced around. Summer thunderclouds had massed in the west, over the eastern slopes of the Coast Range in the distance, but they often did in late summer. Seldom did much rain fall east of those slopes, though, and that was why grazing around Hyalt had to be controlled—one of the ostensible reasons for a regional alector, although the simple and truthful reason was that it was where a Table was necessary to balance the grid.

  How many ostensible truths concealed deeper reasons?

  More than he’d believed possible, Dainyl suspected as he finally picked up his gear and walked toward Fhentyl.

  The junior captain stiffened slightly as Dainyl approached. “I admit, sir, I’ve been concerned.” His nose wrinkled, as if the submarshal emitted a noxious odor.

  “So have I. You can sense the presence of the ancients, I take it?”

  “Ah…yes, sir.”

  “That was one of the reasons I was delayed. I inactivated the Table here in Hyalt. I also killed Rhelyn and several of his assistants. The problem was that he wounded me with a weapon of the ancients that drains lifeforce. It also…well, you can sense it if you look at my left arm. It should vanish in time.” Dainyl snorted. “It wasn’t my doing.”

  “How did you…?”

  “That’s something I can’t reveal, except that I learned a trick or two in Lyterna and elsewhere. The Table can’t be reactivated except with certain equipment and supplies that I’m fairly sure Hyalt doesn’t have. Have they made any attempts to leave? What have your patrols discovered?”

  “Things haven’t changed much since you left. Not until this morning, anyway. That was when they wheeled out two of those lightcannon behind Talent barriers. They took out Huerlyn in second squad. The blast was strong enough that it destroyed his skylance as well. The pteridon was singed a bit, but looks all right now. The rest of the squad came in low and out of the northwest, the way you did, sir.” Fhentyl smiled grimly. “There’s a large hole in front of the cavern entryway.”

  “Have they increased their use of the lightcannon?”

  “No, sir. That’s dropped off.”

  “What about the Cadmians? Have they reported any action?”

  “They’ve reported some night scouting. They lost several troopers the night before last, but they claimed that they killed both rebels. I don’t know if others may have escaped.”

  “Claimed?”

  “Captain Rhystan sent a package sealed up. His note stated that he had retrieved the enclosed material and thought the submarshal would like to see it. He also said that only one trustworthy scout and he had been privy to the material.”

  Dainyl couldn’t help wincing, even though it could have been worse.

  “My thoughts also, sir, but at least their officers are being thoughtful and loyal.”

  “That’s true.” More so than some of ours. “Tomorrow, we’ll take the compound, starting with the building first.”

  Fhentyl looked puzzled.

  “You’re wondering why we didn’t start that way? Because they could have used the Table to bring more crystals and components for the lightcannon. They could also have brought in more rebel alectors. Now that they’re cut off…”

  “That’s why you went to Tempre.”

  “We had problems there, too, as Hyksant can tell you. Fahlyt threw in with them, or he was trying to build his own power base. He actually formed his own mounted rifles like Cadmians. Majer Mykel wiped them out. He’s holding the RA’s building until the Duarches decide who to send to replace Fahylt. Or, the Archon forbid, send Fahylt back.”

  “You think they would?”

  Dainyl knew all too well that was possible if he weren’t successful quickly, but he just shrugged. “That’s not our problem. Ours is the rebels remaining in Hyalt.” He glanced to the southeast. He was slightly surprised that Alcyna or Majer Noryan hadn’t shown up with a pteridon company, but it could be that his own efforts at secrecy had delayed Alcyna’s ability to react. He hoped so.

  “I’m glad you’re back, sir. You’re certain the arm…?”

  “I’m almost at full strength. Let’s get something to eat, and then we’ll go over the plans for tomorrow.” Field rations or local produce, whatever it might be, he was hungry enough to eat it.

  He started toward the way station. Despite what he’d told Fhentyl, he was tired, and he had the definite feeling that his troubles were only beginning.

  88

  Fhentyl and Dainyl stood to the south of the way station, in the cool sunlight just past dawn on Quinti morning. The haze in the eastern sky was more pronounced and promised an even hotter and drier late summer day. In the time Dainyl had been in Tempre, almost all the grasses on the hillsides and rolling plains had turned gold, a harbinger of harvest season, less than two weeks away.

  “We need barrels of oils that will burn, even tallow, fats, whatever we can get,” Dainyl said. “We’ll need all the sulfur and pitch that you can find. If you can find arsenic or other poisons, that would be even better.”

  Fhentyl presented the quizzical expression that Dainyl was beginning to dislike.

  “We need to get them out of there,” Dainyl went on. “That means making the place uninhabitable for them, or for most of them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “There are openings on the top where they had those lightcannon firing out through slits. Liquids can flow down through openings.”

  Fhentyl nodded.

  “Once the liquids are there, what happens if we use a skylance to turn them into flame? And if we keep pouring liquids down there? Remember, they’ve had to keep things sealed up somewhat. Fifth Company will use skylances to help seal anywhere that smoke is seeping out. After a time, it should get hard to breathe in there.”

  The junior captain swallowed. “They’re alectors…and you’re going to treat them…like vermin?”

  “They are vermin. They’ve fired on the Myrmidons of the Duarchy, and they’ve killed part of your company. Do you have a better idea, Captain?”
/>   “No, sir.”

  Dainyl could tell that Fhentyl was less than happy, but then, before the rebellion was crushed, more than a few alectors weren’t going to be happy. “Would you like to lead the first assault into those caverns on foot—without doing something like this?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Do you have any better ideas about dealing with them? We’ve had them holed up in there for a week, and more than half that time has been without a Table.” Which means they think someone is going to rescue them.

  Fhentyl’s eyes shifted away from Dainyl, but he did not reply.

  In short, you don’t like what I’m planning, but you don’t have any other ideas except wait and hope, and that isn’t going to work. Waiting would only magnify the problems Dainyl and Fhentyl faced, something that Fhentyl clearly didn’t understand.

  “What would you do if another Myrmidon company attacked us?” Dainyl asked.

  “Myrmidons shouldn’t be fighting Myrmidons, sir.”

  “That’s true. But regional alectors shouldn’t be attacking Myrmidons, either.”

  The other problem was that Fhentyl had become a captain so recently that, while he could conceive theoretically of rebellion and subversion, accepting either as a reality was proving extremely difficult for the junior officer.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dainyl forced a concerned expression onto his face. “I understand. It’s a difficult situation, but we just have to make the best of it, and we need to get on with matters. It’s going to take all of today, and probably tomorrow to set this up.” That was optimistic, but Dainyl knew he was running out of time. Yet trying a direct assault, even with skylances and pteridons, would create horrible casualties, and might create exactly what the rebels wanted—riderless pteridons that they could coopt, one way or another. “Go ahead and start trying to gather the materials. Have the local factors and merchants use their own wagons to transport the barrels and amphorae to a staging point east of the complex. I’ll contact Captain Rhystan and have the Cadmians set up to receive all of that. We’ll also need nets and some strong canvas so the pteridons can lift them to the clifftop above the cave area.”

  Fhentyl nodded reluctantly.

  Dainyl refrained from mentioning that the rebels had no incentive to surrender. Fhentyl was having enough difficulties in accepting the situation.

  89

  Less than a glass after dawn, Fifth Company was formed up north of the Hyalt way station, each Myrmidon beside a pteridon, except for Fhentyl and Dainyl, who stood a distance apart. While Sexdi and Septi had been hot, the haze and still heat that surrounded the alectors indicated that Octdi would be even hotter. For all that it had taken three days to organize the attack, Dainyl was glad in one respect, because he felt almost recovered from the lifeforce-draining wound inflicted by Rhelyn.

  “Fifth Company, ready to fly, sir. Third squad is already in position, guarding the barrels and kegs.” Fhentyl’s voice conveyed a notable lack of enthusiasm.

  Dainyl had to wonder if a friend or relative of the captain might be trapped in Hyalt. It didn’t matter, not now. “I’ll take first squad to the flat above the caverns, and we’ll replace third squad. Third squad will take the first passes at sealing off vents that we haven’t already sealed. Second squad is to have its pteridons drop heavy boulders on the roof of the outbuilding until there’s a hole big enough for the brimstone. Fourth squad needs to keep the rebels from bringing out any of the lightcannon.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We’re not taking any prisoners until after we’ve captured both areas. We don’t have any way to restrain them. We don’t have enough Myrmidons to watch them, and they’ll escape from the Cadmians.” The ones here under Captain Rhystan, anyway.

  “I understand, sir. No prisoners until we hold the area.” Fhentyl sounded even less happy than he had a few moments before.

  Dainyl was glad he had a rationale for his action, because, after what he’d already experienced, he had no intention of letting any of the rebels live, not if he could help it. They’d destroy everything that the Duarches had built, and they’d do it in years, rather than generations.

  “Let’s lift off.” He gave a quick nod before turning and striding across the open space to his pteridon.

  He mounted quickly, then looked to Hyksant and raised his arm. Lift off…straight ahead.

  The pteridon was airborne, wide blue wings beating strongly, climbing steadily to the southwest. Before long, below and to his left, Dainyl could make out the Cadmian company set up on the ridge, standing by in case there might be any stragglers or escapees from the forthcoming attack. The men and their mounts cast long shadows in the early sunlight.

  Ahead lay the regional alector’s complex, seemingly deserted, although Dainyl could sense lifeforce within, even from more than a vingt away. Lower…to the clifftop…from the north…

  “First squad! Follow the submarshal!” Hyksant’s voice carried through the stillness of the morning air. “Hold off landing until third squad lifts off the cliffs.”

  Dainyl’s pteridon settled onto a narrow rocky ridge directly to the north of the assembled array of barrels and kegs. He dismounted and, after climbing over a small jumble of rocks, walked around two scrubby junipers and toward third squad.

  “Undercaptain…thank you for standing by here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You understand your next assignment?”

  “We’re to circle and wait for you to start creating smoke. Then we make passes across the cavern area, using the hills as cover until the last moment, and employ our lances to seal whatever places where the smoke comes out.”

  Dainyl nodded acknowledgment. “You may lift off.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The submarshal watched the five pteridons rise. Then he turned and made his way back to his own pteridon, where he retrieved the skylance and began to make his way down the rocky incline, staying in sight of the vitreous channel crudely carved and formed by Talent and skylance over the previous two days. It led to the mostly blocked highest slits where a lightcannon had been earlier used earlier by the rebels. At the top of the channel, two Myrmidon rankers from first squad waited with the kegs, barrels, and the three barrels filled with brimstone, a thick gooey mass of pitch, heavy oil, and sulfur.

  It took Dainyl a quarter glass in climbing down the slope before he stood a mere three yards from the target slit, but behind a chunk of redstone.

  “Ready?” Dainyl called.

  “Yes, sir,” Hyksant called back.

  “Start with a barrel of oil! A bit at a time.”

  “Coming, sir.”

  Although his pteridon was on the cliff above, it was close enough to recharge the skylance he held. He lifted the weapon and waited.

  His eyes went skyward, where third and fourth squads circled. Third squad waited to begin sealing vents, fourth squad to attack any sign of rebel activity.

  A stream of oil began to flow down the channel. Within the first few barrels of oil was some of the sulfur Hyksant had been able to discover and retrieve from Hyalt, although most was in the brimstone that would come later. Dainyl forced himself to wait, just to allow the oils to keep flowing, while he let his Talent monitor their progress down into the large central chamber that lay below the staircase and landing on which the one lightcannon had been mounted.

  A quick flash of light flared from somewhere below Dainyl, and a pteridon wheeled and swooped, its flier triggering bursts from his skylance in returning fire. The pteridon rose and passed directly over Dainyl before climbing farther skyward.

  Dainyl checked the oil flow with his Talent, then turned back up toward first squad. “The liquid brimstone! Now!”

  The shadow of one of the second squad pteridons crossed Dainyl, and he watched as the pteridon, a large boulder in its crystalline talons, flew out from the cliff and released the boulder. Dainyl could hear the impact easily as the boulder crashed onto the slightly slanted roof of the stone
building that stood a good hundred yards to the east of the cliffs and the cavern complex.

  Another pteridon followed the first. This time, the Myrmidon ordered a release too early, and the chunk of redstone slammed into the side of the second and highest level.

  Dainyl turned his attention back to the vitreous channel and the gooey sludgy ooze that crept past him to the battered slit that afforded access to the tunnels and chambers below.

  After a quarter of a glass, when close to a barrel of brimstone was oozing downward inside the complex, Dainyl triggered the lance, aimed directly at the point where the oil dripped from the overhang and into the space in the slit. Yellowish flame flared, and black oily smoke. Dainyl extended his shields, with just enough force so that the smoke and flame triggered by the lance had no place to go but down, following the mixture of oils into the caverns below.

  He held the shields so that the flames did not creep back up the channel and so that the smoke was forced downward and into the alector’s spaces.

  Dainyl had calculated that the oils and brimstone used so far might burn for as long as half a glass. Then they would have to begin the process again. After that, he would have to start using the skylance to heat the channel and melt tallow and fats to burn, and he would still have to hold the shields.

  What he planned was long, hard, and tedious. It also might result in far fewer Myrmidon casualties.

  Above him, the second squad pteridons continued their circling bombardment, picking up boulders where they easily could to the north and west of Dainyl, then swooping down on the freestanding building, and releasing their loads.

  He glanced at the building. Already a good third of the tile roof was smashed, and he could see several of the roof timbers already where the tiles had been battered away or crushed.

  Dainyl kept working on firing the oils and brimstone and forcing them into the caverns. Even from where he was working, the stench was close to unbearable.

  Abruptly, one of the circling pteridons of fourth squad swooped, lance flaring, then another. One pteridon did not follow the others, but merely circled. Without a Myrmidon, it would follow the squad until Fifth Company returned to Dereka. Then it would not rise into the sky until a new Myrmidon became its flier.