Darknesses

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  A gray-haired farmer stood by the wall on the east side of the road, just beyond the small smithy, with two small children, one on each side. The man raised his hand, then bowed his head. So did the children.

  Alucius realized that the man was the farmer who had warned him, and he tried to recall the man’s name…but could not. Almost ashamed, he extended his Talent senses, finally coming up with a name.

  “Abyert,” Alucius said, reining up Wildebeast short of the man, “I must thank you once more, and wish you and your grandchildren well. It is not likely that I will be returning to Emal, for I have been sent to serve in the east, but my good wishes go with you.”

  The farmer’s face paled at the mention of his name.

  “There is nothing to worry about,” Alucius said, Talent-projecting warmth and reassurance. He could feel the farmer’s relief.

  The man’s eyes did not meet those of Alucius. He replied, “We will offer our best thoughts for you, Captain.”

  “Thank you.” Alucius nodded a last time, but as he began to ride away, he caught the farmer’s words.

  “…children…he is one of the great ones, a lamaial even…do not forget that you have seen him.”

  A lamaial? Alucius frowned. The mythical hero or villain who was fated to bring back the Duarchy or stop it from returning? Then he shook his head and grinned. A lamaial? No. Just a herder from north of Iron Stem who only wanted to return to herding—and his wife.

  He urged Wildebeast along the shoulder of the road to catch up to Zerdial and the vanguard.

  43

  Two days of riding the dirt roads south from Emal had left Alucius and Feran—and all the troopers—hot and dusty. North-eastern Lanachrona suffered the same lack of rain as had the Iron Valleys. What crops there were were short and stunted, and in many fields there were brown shoots that had died from lack of moisture. Every wind was filled with fine grit, and even by late morning a haze of dust was everywhere Alucius looked.

  About a glass past midafternoon, the two companies reached the outskirts of a hamlet with no roadstones or signs. Fewer than twenty dwellings lay scattered across the south side of a gentle rise and above a narrow stream. None of the wooden-sided houses had been stained or painted in any recent year, and most of the outbuildings slanted. While Alucius had often felt that the clean-lined stone dwellings of Madrien had put the dwellings of the Iron Valleys to shame, the hillside dwellings made even those in Emal look palatial.

  “The farther south we get, the poorer the people are,” Feran said, from where he rode—momentarily—beside Alucius.

  “We’re farther from the rivers, and the land probably isn’t as rich. No bottomland and not that much water, and no rain…”

  “How much farther to the high road, do you think?”

  “According to the maps, less than five vingts. If this hamlet is Yumel,” Alucius replied. “Then we have to ride east on the high road another five vingts or so to the road fort at Senelmyr.”

  “Feel strange riding up to a Southern Guard outpost.”

  “We’ll send a scout as a messenger well in advance.” Alucius’s tone was dry.

  “What do you think about this business?”

  “There’s too much we don’t know. The Lord-Protector wants something from us, and it’s not just to get us out of the way. If he wanted that, we’d all be somewhere on the old north road to Eastice or Klamat. I just can’t figure out what it is that we have that they don’t.”

  “We’re more expendable,” Feran pointed out.

  “That’s true, but it also means he’s got something he wants us expended on, and it’s got to be the grassland nomads to the south of Deforya or the Lustreans. Either way, someone is trying to move west, and the Lord-Protector wants to stop them before Lanachrona gets too involved.”

  “Maybe he’s using us to buy time while he consolidates his grip on Southgate.”

  “That could be.” Alucius shrugged. “We’ll see.”

  “So we will.” Feran nodded to the rear. “I’m headed back to see how my laggards are doing, and I’ll check on the packhorses.”

  “Thank you.”

  After Feran rode back along the edge of the road, past Twenty-first Company, Alucius kept studying the road ahead and the dwellings they were passing, both with eyes and Talent. Not a single soul had ventured out of the dwellings in Yumel as the two Northern Guard companies passed through. Alucius didn’t blame them. He doubted the people had even heard about the forced union, and blue silk shoulder triangles wouldn’t remove the concern about troopers in black moving through traditional Lanachronan lands. Even with stops for water and brief rests, it was midafternoon before the column of riders and packhorses neared the road fort at Senelmyr.

  They were over a vingt away when two Southern Guard troopers, accompanied by Waris, the scout from the third squad, rode westward toward Alucius and his vanguard.

  “They’re expecting us, sir,” Waris called.

  “Good,” Alucius replied. “Thank you.”

  With that, the two companies followed the Southern Guards back to the road fort. There was no sign of a town. The fort, while larger than Emal Outpost, was far less imposing, consisting of a brick wall, barely two and a half yards high, and a series of low buildings looking more like sheep sheds than barracks or stables.

  A majer in the cream and blue of the Southern Guard stood on the wooden and roofless porch of the first building inside the gates. Beside him was a captain.

  “Twenty-first Company! Halt!” Alucius ordered. Then he rode Wildebeast over to where the captain stood. “Overcaptain Alucius, Northern Guard, Majer.”

  “Majer Draspyr, Overcaptain. It’s good to see you and your troopers.” Draspyr was blond, blue-eyed, and had a thin scar running along his left jaw, the faintest line of red. He offered a warm and open smile. “Greetings.” His voice was a mellow baritone that went with his welcoming smile.

  Alucius managed to smile in return, although he was put off by the coldness that lay behind the apparent friendliness. “Greetings, Majer. We stand ready to join your forces.”

  “We’ll talk about matters once you get your men settled. If you would join me here in the conference room, in say a glass.” Draspyr nodded to the captain beside him, then to a squad leader who had appeared. “Captain Clifyr and his senior squad leader will help your companies get settled. You and Captain Feran, of course, have quarters here with the other officers.”

  Clifyr stepped forward exactly one pace and looked up at Alucius. “Sir…if you and your men would follow us. Your companies have the barracks nearest the east wall.”

  Alucius and the two companies followed. Once he was convinced that the barracks and stables were adequate, if barely so, and after he’d settled and groomed Wildebeast, he and Feran followed Clifyr back to the front area of the road post.

  The officers’ quarters were about the same size as those at Emal Outpost, if sparsely furnished, with only a bunk and an open wardrobe and a small table and a stool. The shutters on the single window sagged, and the bunk mattress was old and thin.

  Alucius managed to wash up himself and his dirty undergarments, hanging them from a line he strung between bunk and wardrobe, before heading to the conference room to meet with the majer.

  The majer stood as Alucius entered. There was a large map spread on the old and battered circular table, one of eastern Lanachrona and Deforya.

  “I trust the quarters are adequate.” Draspyr snorted. “If hardly so. Still, they are superior to way stations and camping in the open.”

  “I am sure we have both seen better and worse,” Alucius replied politely.

  “Just so.” Draspyr studied Alucius for a long moment.

  As the majer did so, Alucius used his Talent-sense to pick up the other’s feelings—mostly of curiosity, although there was a muted feel of superiority. He waited for the majer to speak.

  Draspyr gestured to the map, almost abruptly. “You can see the blue line there. That’s the o
ld northern high road. It goes from Borlan through Deforya and the Northern Pass all the way to Alustre. We’ll be taking it to Dereka. After that, we’ll be on local roads south to the Barrier Range. Our task is threefold. First, we are to provide a presence to assure the Landarch of the support of Lanachrona. Second, we are to determine the degree of threat actually posed by the grassland nomads. Third, if we are attacked, or the Landarch’s forces accompanying us are attacked, we are to fight to the best of our ability.”

  “Do you know whether the grassland nomads are moving northward? And how quickly?”

  “The Lord-Protector has received very reliable reports that large numbers of horse companies are riding northwest of Lyterna toward the Barrier Range border with Deforya. It would seem unlikely that they are doing so for peaceful reasons.” A cold smile crossed the majer’s lips as he looked down at the map momentarily before continuing. “The other two companies of Northern Guards will be joining us either late tomorrow or on Sexdi. Overcaptain Heald will be in charge of that detachment, as well as commanding the Third Company, and Captain Koryt is commanding Eleventh Company.”

  Alucius managed to keep a pleasant smile on his face and hoped he hadn’t revealed the shock. He’d served as a scout, not even a squad leader, under Heald, who was a good, but not outstanding officer. Koryt, far less competent, had been the company commander Alucius had been forced to make a fool of in order to return to the Iron Valleys. Feran was far, far more qualified than either of the other Northern Guard officers, unless they had improved greatly. Alucius reproved himself for the thought about Captain Heald, considering that Alucius himself had certainly improved since he had last served under Heald.

  “Do you know either officer, Overcaptain?”

  “I’ve met them both, but Overcaptain Heald is the only one I’ve seen in action,” Alucius replied. “He held off the Matrites near Soulend for almost a season until the Council could send reinforcements.” He’d also lost more than half the company, some of the troopers unnecessarily, but Alucius did not mention that.

  “What do you know of Captain Koryt?”

  “Very little, sir. I only met him for a fraction of a glass sometime over a year ago.”

  Draspyr nodded sagely. “I’ve been told that you have the most combat experience, but were the most junior as a captain, before you were promoted.”

  “That is probably true, sir.”

  “And that you always get the task accomplished, generally with lower casualties than expected, and…shall we say, greater consternation among superior officers.” Draspyr’s blue eyes twinkled, but the twinkle was not so much of humor as of satisfaction at having delivered a statement containing knowledge that had been hard-won.

  “That is also probably true, sir.”

  “Have you ever directly disobeyed an order, Overcaptain?”

  “Only when I was escaping from Madrien, sir.”

  Draspyr sighed, but the expression was mere affectation. “The chain of command will run from me to you and Overcaptain Heald separately and directly. Neither of you will be subordinate to the other. I believe that is the best way of handling that.”

  “Yes, sir.” It was doubtless the only practical way that Draspyr could see, and, from Alucius’s point of view, it was far better than Alucius reporting to Heald.

  “We also brought two wagons filled with cartridges for your weapons, Overcaptain.” The smile vanished. “Marshal Wyerl had thought about refitting your companies with standard rifles—until he received the reports about the pteridons.”

  “Pteridons, sir?”

  “It appears that Aellyan Edyss has managed to obtain some pteridons. He used them effectively enough to kill the Praetor of Alustre and rout his army. The Lord-Protector and Marshal Wyerl thought that since your weapons are designed to deal with predators such as sandwolves and sanders they might be of equal use against other Talent-cursed creatures.”

  “They might be, sir,” Alucius agreed blandly. “We’ll have to see when the time comes.” Whether Aellyan Edyss had pteridons or not, the majer thought he did, and Alucius could see no reason for the majer to be deceived. Why he and four Northern Guard companies had been assigned also made a great deal more sense—as did the particular companies assigned.

  “You don’t sound that surprised, Overcaptain.”

  “I’ve learned that in Corus anything is possible, Majer. I’ve seen the crystal spear-thrower of the Matrial and the silver torques of Madrien—and I’ve seen sanders appear out of the soil and vanish into it almost as swiftly. We have leschec pieces that are pteridons and legends, and eternal high roads which show no sign of aging.” Alucius smiled ruefully. “If the Lord-Protector has solid word that the nomads have found pteridons…then I have no reason to doubt him.”

  Draspyr laughed, a sound which contained actual humor, before he frowned and asked, “Crystal spear-thrower?”

  “A weapon which fires hundreds of crystal spears about this long—” Alucius held his hands a half yard apart. “The first one exploded in the battles around Soulend, but one of the Matrial’s engineers rebuilt it.”

  “You have seen that weapon?”

  “I was wounded in one of the battles at Soulend where it was used.” Alucius could tell that the majer had not been told about the crystal spear-thrower. From what he’d heard and seen of Lanachrona, that did not surprise him.

  “It’s good that you and your men are used to the unusual.” Draspyr glanced up as Captain Clifyr entered the conference room, near silently, and bowed, without speaking. “One last thing—we’ll go over commands, early tomorrow, then we’ll undertake some maneuvers just to make sure that we’re using and understanding the same orders.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Until after morning muster tomorrow, Overcaptain.”

  Alucius inclined his head to the majer, then waited for the bow from Clifyr before nodding in return. He left the conference room door slightly ajar as he left, listening.

  “Doesn’t look that dangerous, sir…” murmured Clifyr.

  “For all of that youthful and open face he has, Clifyr, he’d turn you and your company into sow sausage in less than a glass. He’s a marks-man who hits more than half his targets in combat, and that’s unheard of. He’s a top blade with either hand, and personally killed well over a hundred men in combat…”

  “Sir?”

  “That’s from the Recorder of Deeds…Now…we need to discuss your reports…”

  Alucius tried to pick up more, but at that point one of the two officers closed the door to the conference room. Recorder of Deeds? Who or what was the Recorder of Deeds? And how would he know about Alucius?

  Feran was waiting by the door to his quarters—adjoining those of Alucius.

  Alucius motioned for the older officer to join him in the quarters he’d been assigned. He closed the door, but after all the riding, he scarcely felt like sitting.

  “What did you find out that we haven’t guessed?” asked Feran.

  “Things are even worse than we’d thought.”

  “We knew that. Tell me how they’re worse.”

  “Aellyan Edyss has at least some pteridons,” Alucius said evenly.

  “Pteridons? You expect me to believe that? They’re make-believe…mythical creatures…”

  Alucius shrugged. “All right. Edyss has something that routed the legions of Alustre and killed the Praetor, and has the Lord-Protector worried enough to send five companies of horse to support the Landarch of Deforya.”

  “If he’s that worried, why is he sending any companies at all…Oh…” Feran grimaced. “Sander shit! Offspring of diseased rats…There’s only one company of Southern Guards, and the rest are from the Iron Valleys.”

  “We’ve got heavier rifles, and he can get a report on what Edyss does, as well as get rid of the best of the militia if Edyss isn’t a threat. Even if he is, Lanachrona doesn’t lose that much.”

  “All because that fornicating bunch of traders in Dekhron never had
the masculinity to raise the tariffs to pay for the militia…”

  “Aellyan Edyss might be moving in our direction anyway, sooner or later.”

  “But we wouldn’t be the ones in front if it weren’t for those cowardly coin-lovers.”

  “They’ve sent two wagons full of cartridges for our rifles,” Alucius added. “I’d like to see if we can work out at least some idea of target practice at something in the air—maybe string a line between poles or trees and pull something along it.”

  “You really think…?” Feran looked hard at Alucius.

  “Yes. The majer does, too. He was assigned because he’s fairly smart, but arrogant enough not to realize just how dangerous this task is. We’re supposed to see if the pteridons are a real danger, reassure the Landarch that the Lord-Protector is his ally, and, if at all possible, either kill the pteridons or discover how.”

  “They don’t want much, do they?”

  “You said that you’d do anything to avoid going north to Eastice.” Alucius smiled. “I’d say this qualifies as almost anything.”

  “Next time—if there is one—remind me that the cold isn’t so bad.” Feran shook his head, with such an exaggerated expression that Alucius laughed.

  After a moment, so did Feran.

  44

  As Majer Draspyr had predicted, the other two Northern Guard companies arrived late on Quinti, when the sun had touched the horizon to the west at the end of a hot and dusty day. Alucius hurried out to meet them as they rode through the gates of the road fort. He had hoped to meet Heald by himself, but the majer was already there, along with Captain Clifyr.

  Overcaptain Heald reined up opposite the majer. He still had the deep dark circles under his eyes, and his face was thinner than Alucius recalled.

  “Majer, Overcaptain Heald and Captain Koryt reporting.” Heald inclined his head.

  “It’s good to see you, Overcaptain,” Draspyr replied. “You made good time.”

  “We thought it best, sir,” Heald replied.