Scepters

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Feran nodded. “It looks that way. Do you think that the traders were paying him off?”

  “There’s not much doubt about that. It might be hard to prove, and we don’t know why.” Even if the ifrits did want to weaken the Guard, why would they want the Matrites running all over Dekhron? “It doesn’t make sense for them to weaken the Guard so much that the Matrites would take over the Iron Valleys and Dekhron.”

  “Maybe they don’t want either side to win,” Feran suggested. “So long as the fighting goes on, no one will be looking at how they operate.”

  “That does make sense.” In more than one way, Alucius realized. “But we can’t let them keep doing it.”

  “Stopping them will be hard. You’re just the Guard commander. You’ve got your hands full fixing the mess Weslyn left you.”

  Alucius grinned. “What do you mean by putting it on me? We have our hands full.”

  “I was afraid you’d say something like that, most honored Colonel.” Feran shook his head.

  “I think the next item is your promotion. You’re getting the grief; you should get the coins.”

  Feran snorted. “They’re not enough.”

  “They never are. Now…about that promotion…”

  110

  In midafternoon on Septi, Dhaget rapped on the doorframe to Alucius’s study. Alucius looked up from the draft of the Northern Guard reorganization plan he and Feran had worked out. “Yes?”

  “This just came, sir,” said Dhaget, extending an envelope.

  “Thank you.” Alucius took the envelope and opened it.

  Dhaget slipped back out of the study.

  The envelope held a formal dispatch, with a small square of paper folded inside the dispatch. Alucius read the short dispatch.

  Colonel Alucius—

  In Captain Dezyn’s absence, I am reporting that the training company at Sudon has been informed of the change of command in the Northern Guard. I have informed all squad leaders and trainee lancers, and we await any orders that may be forthcoming.

  The signature was that of Estepp.

  Alucius nodded and unfolded the second sheet. It had but a few words and no signature.

  We’re behind you. Take care of this group of brigands like you did the last.

  His smile was rueful. Those words were the Estepp he recalled, but the formal dispatch was all that Captain Dezyn would see. Of that, Alucius was certain. He was also certain of the message that Estepp was sending. He pocketed the second and unsigned note. Feran would certainly want to see it.

  He glanced out the window at gray skies that seemed to be lifting. He hoped so. Then he went back to the plan on his desk. The plan itself wasn’t that complex, but figuring out which transfers to make in what order and what officers’ resignations to ask for first were still things he needed to work out. He had decided that he wanted to complete the reorganization in two steps. He’d thought about doing it all at once, but Feran had pointed out that having more than half the companies without captains or captains in transit at one time was likely to be too unsettling.

  Then, too, he still had to deal with the logistics problems. Although Sanasus had implemented a new set of ledgers, reconciling the accounts was going to take days, if not weeks.

  Another knock on the door interrupted his concentration, and he looked up.

  “Sir…there are some folks to see you.” Fewal was grinning as he stood in the door. “I thought you’d want to know. They’ve come a fair piece.”

  Alucius could see a feminine figure, holding an infant, and an older man. He scrambled to his feet and through the doorway past Fewal, who was still smiling broadly. For a long time, how long he couldn’t even tell, Alucius held Wendra and his daughter. He could sense how three lifethreads almost intertwined in a swirl of green. His eyes blurred, and she reached up and brushed away the tears.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured in her ear.

  “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

  Kustyl cleared his throat.

  Alucius flushed as he released his wife. Tears streaked her cheeks as well as his. Alendra merely gurgled.

  “Couldn’t tell that the man missed you or anything,” Kustyl observed.

  Wendra said, her voice low, “Do you have quarters here? Grandpa Kustyl said you did. I can go up there and feed Alendra. You need to talk to Grandpa. He says it’s important.”

  Alucius nodded. “Fewal…if you could escort my wife to the quarters…”

  “Yes, sir. I’d be pleased to.”

  Alucius and Wendra exchanged smiles before she stepped back, and Alucius nodded to the older herder. “I understand you have some information for me.”

  “That I do, Colonel. That I do.” Kustyl’s eyes twinkled, and there was the slightest emphasis on the word “colonel.”

  Alucius watched for a moment as Wendra left, then stepped into his study. Kustyl followed and closed the door. Alucius gestured to one of the chairs.

  “Hope you don’t mind if I stand, Alucius, but it’s been a long ride, and I’m not so young as I used to be.”

  The younger man laughed. “Not if you don’t mind if I sit. I’m still sore in places.” He eased into the chair behind the desk.

  “Wendra didn’t say, but you were hurt pretty bad, weren’t you?” Kustyl’s eyes narrowed.

  “I didn’t tell her in my letters. Feran said no one thought I’d live.”

  “And you’re walking around now.”

  “Nightsilk helps.”

  “Some.” Kustyl smiled. “She brought you new sets of nightsilk undergarments. And a new vest. Said even nightsilk couldn’t keep taking the beating you gave it.” He studied Alucius. “You almost look old enough for this job. Gray hair helps.” Then he smiled. “Anyone any younger, the troubles’d kill ’em.”

  “What can you tell me?” asked Alucius.

  “Might help if I knew what you know and what you need to know.”

  “Here’s the problem. I’m sure that Weslyn was lining his own pockets, entering higher charges for goods and pocketing the difference. We found three hundred sixty golds in his cellar, mostly the kind that are sent from Tempre—”

  “Three hundred sixty? The sandsnake skimmed off that much?”

  “I can’t yet link the amounts, but that’s what it looks like. He also replaced any officers who might question him with captains who seemed to be the younger sons of factors and merchants who sold goods to the Guard. Oh…and he also disbanded the Nineteenth and Twentieth Companies, and I think he pocketed that payroll, but I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to go over all the ledgers in any depth. We’ve been working on letting everyone know about the change in command and that Weslyn tried to kill me.” He pointed to the chart on the desk. “Feran and I have been trying to work out which officers to remove, and what senior squad leaders we can promote to captain or undercaptain to take over. We’ve just about got that figured out, not just who but how and in what order so that we can get someone who’s good in charge in the important posts as quickly as we can.”

  “Your grandsire always thought you’d be good at this. Your mother made him promise not to tell you.” Kustyl coughed. “You’ve figured out what Royalt and I suspected was going on, but there are some things that you ought to know. First off, all the old traders that backed Dysar, then Weslyn, are dead. Except for two. One’s Halanat, and the other’s Tarolt. No one sees Tarolt much at all. He doesn’t trade or factor anymore, and all his business is handled by Halanat’s outfit. No one sees Halanat much, either. His son, young fellow by the name of Halsant, is the one who does all the factoring, and he’s the head of this new Traders’ Council. Probably the youngest of them all, but he’s still in charge. He’s not much older than you are, maybe thirty, but they all do what he wants. Has to be because Halanat and Tarolt are behind him. Don’t know why everyone backs off ’em, but they do.”

  Alucius nodded. “There has to be some connection with Weslyn.”

  “Oh…everyone k
nows they were friends. Ate together, even over at the Red Ram. Weslyn was the friendly type, met and ate with most of the big factors. Already…some of them are saying that you were sent back to break up their trading combine so that the factors from Tempre and Borlan can move in.”

  Alucius snorted. “From what I’ve seen, the southerners can’t even handle trading in their own land—in lower Lanachrona, I mean. Those that can are more worried about what’s happening in Deforya and in Southgate.”

  “Doesn’t matter what’s really happening, Alucius. You have to deal with what the traders in Dekhron think.”

  “I know. So what do I do? I’d thought about meeting with them and telling them exactly what happened.” Alucius gave a twisted smile. “One problem is that I haven’t figured it all out yet.”

  “Set up a meeting now, but for a week away or so. That way, they’ll hold off saying their worst. They’ll still talk, but they’ll want to know what you have to say before they act.”

  “That makes sense. What do you think they’ll try to do?”

  “I don’t know. Not for sure. Some of ’em have to be thinking about paying brigands or some of the old-time Reillies to take you out.”

  “That’s a comforting thought. And if I get rid of them, I’ll be a high-handed butcher sent by the Lord-Protector.”

  “After what you did in Hyalt, they’re already saying that.”

  “How do they know what I did in Hyalt?”

  “I don’t know, but word’s out that you butchered thousands of men and turned the city and the trade over to the women.”

  “The prophet had used Talent to enslave maybe a thousand men into his forces. They kept attacking us, and when they did, we killed them. I’d judge that we killed something like eight hundred. No more than a thousand. We had to turn the city…well…it’s really only a big town…we had to turn it over to the women. The men who were left were either ten years older than you or not quite right in the head from what they’d been through.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  Alucius sighed. “I know. Are my choices to try to do what’s right and try to survive assassination attempt after attempt, or will I have to wipe out all the factors here in order to have a chance to keep the Iron Valleys from being taken over by the Regent of the Matrial?”

  “Regent?”

  “She’s the one who took over in Hieron. From what I’ve seen of their lancers, she’s even worse than the Matrial was. They’ve got those torques working again. We did get rid of their crystal spear-throwers, and the Lord-Protector has pushed them back north for now. If I can get the Guard reorganized, we might be able to keep them in check in the north as well.”

  “In check?”

  “With half the captains hardly competent, and without the Nineteenth and Twentieth Companies, I’ll be fortunate to do that. Dezyn doesn’t know much about training—do you know what happened to Overcaptain Culyn?”

  “There was talk about it, say a year and a half ago. They found him dead in the quarters here. Not a mark on him. Figured his heart just stopped.”

  Why hadn’t Alucius heard that? Or had he been so relieved not to be in the Guard then that he just hadn’t paid attention?

  “You don’t think it was that, I take it?” asked Kustyl.

  “Looking back…no. No more than Clyon died of the flux.”

  “You got your hands full.” Kustyl shook his head. “Every herder’s behind you, but there aren’t many of us left.”

  “You have any more suggestions for me?”

  “Don’t enter any narrow ways and never leave your back bare. And if you’ve got any ways to have folks die of flux or in their sleep, Halanat and Tarolt wouldn’t be bad places to start.” The older herder shrugged. “And don’t wait very long. They won’t. That’s for certain.” The lanky gray herder looked toward the closed door. “That’d be all I’ve got right now. Except to spend some time with that wife of yours.”

  “I don’t need a reminder for that.” Alucius smiled as he rose. “You’ll let me know if you hear anything else?”

  “That I will. Be talking to a few folks I can trust here in Dekhron. Not that many, anymore, but I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

  “Do you have somewhere to stay? We could—”

  Kustyl shook his head. “Be staying with Renzor—Mairee’s cousin’s boy. Works better that way.”

  “Thank you.” Alucius opened the study door for Wendra’s grandsire.

  After Kustyl left, Alucius took another look at the charts and planned company rosters, but his eyes wouldn’t focus on the names or the descriptions. He shook his head and walked back out of the study.

  “Sir?” Dhaget looked up from the table where he was sorting lancer files into piles by company.

  “If Overcaptain Feran comes back, tell him that my wife just arrived, and that I’m up in my quarters getting her settled in.”

  “Yes, sir.” Dhaget kept the smile off his face, but not totally out of his voice and eyes.

  Alucius did not run up the steps to the commander’s quarters, but neither was his progress sedate. He found Wendra on the large bed in the main bedchamber, propped up with pillows and feeding Alendra.

  After a moment, he eased onto the bed behind her shoulder, then kissed her neck.

  She turned her head, and their lips met.

  After several very long moments, Wendra eased her head back and readjusted Alendra. “You don’t have to act as though every moment will be the last,” she said with a grin. “I’ll be here for several days, maybe longer.” The grin turned to a frown. “How did you get that scar?”

  “That was from the prophet.”

  “You didn’t mention that.”

  “It didn’t seem important.” He paused, almost afraid to ask the next question, with his desire to have her in Dekhron for more than an afternoon or a day. “What about the stead?” He kissed her neck again.

  “It will do without me for a few days. While I’ve been with Alendra…your grandsire…he had to take the flock.” Wendra shifted Alendra into the crook of her left arm and switched the infant around, readjusting her clothing to let her daughter nurse on her other breast.

  “Did he…have trouble?”

  “No. He never saw those creatures. Alucius…they’re attracted just to you and me. It has to be. Have they ever appeared anywhere besides where one of us is?”

  “There were the pteridons of Aellyan Edyss…but, as for the wild ones…no.”

  “Why are they attracted to us? Because we show more Talent?” asked Wendra, readjusting Alendra in her arm again.

  Alendra began to suckle in earnest.

  Wendra winced slightly. “She’s strong, and she’s a little piglet. She must take after you.”

  “Me?”

  “You,” she said firmly. “Now…why do those things show up when we’re around?”

  “That we have Talent might be part of it, but it can’t be all of it. They have to be coming from somewhere, and that has to be from wherever the ifrits are coming from.”

  “Where is that? Is it truly another world, as you said?”

  “It must be. There’s nothing that looks like those creatures anywhere in Corus, and there never has been, except in the days of the old Duarchy.” He paused. “Except maybe the ones that look like black dustcats.” He shook his head. “It’s like nothing quite fits. But the soarers said the ifrits were from another world, and so far, what the soarers have said…it’s been so.” Alucius bent forward and kissed her neck, easing one arm around her.

  “Later…dear man. Later. When not every lancer is speculating on what we’re doing, and when Alendra is asleep. I’ve missed you, and I’d like to have some time to enjoy being with you.” She turned her head.

  Alucius enjoyed the kiss—enormously—even knowing that he would have to return to charts and rosters and other matters. But only for a time, and only until later.

  111

  Hieron, Madrien

  The Regent rose from the woo
den armchair set behind the conference table and took several steps toward the north wall of the private study that had once been that of the Matrial. She stopped short of the built-in shelves, filled with ancient tomes that covered the entire wall, shelf upon shelf, running from the floor to the four-yard-high ceiling. A small walnut book ladder rested in the middle of the shelves, a single volume balanced on the third step.

  For a time, she looked at the volumes, unspeaking.

  Then she turned from the volumes on the shelves and walked back to the conference table, where she reseated herself. Her violet eyes fixed upon the marshal in a purple and green uniform tunic on the other side of the circular conference table. “Have the engineers made any progress with the drawings I supplied?”

  “They have yet to discover how to duplicate the crystals necessary for energy storage,” admitted the marshal.

  “Then they scarcely deserve the title of engineers.”

  “They have begun to grow the crystals that focus and create the spears. The storage crystals are harder. They are much more complex than those for light-torches, and you know how long it has taken and how hard it has been to create those. Even the…” The marshal broke off.

  “Even the Matrial, you were about to say?”

  “Yes, Regent.”

  The Regent offered a cold smile. “I suppose that is fair. She did have more experience than I have at present.”

  “Do you know how the Matrial became…the Matrial?”

  “Changing the subject, are you, Aluyn?”

  “Yes, Regent.” Aluyn’s voice carried a rueful tone. “It seemed wiser.”

  A sharp laugh was the Regent’s reply. “You are honest. I’ve always admired that.”

  Aluyn waited.