Darknesses

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “There was much gallantry.”

  Alucius could tell that the marshal was curious, and just slightly irritated, although he gave little outward indication of anything other than courtesy. Ahorak seemed worried.

  “You saw the breastplates of the nomads on display in the front courtyard?” asked Submarshal Ahorak, still conveying nervousness.

  “I did,” Alucius admitted.

  “There are nearly that many in the rear courtyard. The Landarch insisted that they be displayed so that none would fail to understand the greatness of the victory.” Ahorak smiled again. “Come. The Landarch is waiting.”

  With one of the Deforyans on each side, Alucius found himself walking through the stone arches and into the palace. Three Deforyan Lancers led the three along the same great hall that Alucius had been in for the banquet, but they continued past the banquet hall to a stone archway set between dual columns and guarded by a pair of lancers in red, but with gold piping on their tunic sleeves.

  The three escorting lancers turned aside, and the doors opened as the three officers neared.

  From somewhere came a deep and sonorous voice. “The Marshal Seherak, the Submarshal Ahorak, and the honored Overcaptain Alucius, representative of the Lord-Protector of Lanachrona and the Iron Valleys.”

  The Landarch was seated in the comparatively small audience hall on a dais of gold eternastone. The high chair was of a golden wood, and carried the presence of great age. As the three reached the steps before the dais, the marshals halted. So did Alucius.

  The Landarch stood and took two steps forward. “Overcaptain…if you would join me…”

  Alucius bowed, then took the three steps slowly and deliberately. At the top, he inclined his head again.

  The Landarch smiled. He wore the same dark green tunic and trousers trimmed in gold that he had at the banquet.

  Alucius could sense that the Landarch’s smile was friendly, almost apologetic, but he waited for the ruler to speak.

  “Deforya is most grateful to you, Overcaptain Alucius, most grateful indeed. Had not so many lancers seen what you and your troopers did, it would be hard to have believed such. But all have noted that with two companies you broke an entire wing of the nomads, then brought down the Talent-beasts and destroyed half the nomads’ numbers.” The Landarch continued to smile, but there was a tentativeness behind the open expression.

  “You are most kind, honored Landarch.” Alucius inclined his head slightly once more. “We came to do our duty, and we did the best we knew how. Many brave men died in that duty, and many were from Deforya.”

  “They did their duty, and they did so bravely. You and your men went far beyond duty, and you did so to save a land that is not your own.” The Landarch gestured slightly with one hand.

  A man in red robes stepped forward carrying a red velvet pillow. On it was a golden eight-pointed star, edged in a brilliant green enamel.

  “This is the Star of Gallantry. There have been but twenty awarded in the generations since the Cataclysm. This is the twenty-first. I can think of no one more fit to wear it.” The Landarch paused. “If, as I have heard, you believe that your troopers deserve it as well, then I ask you to wear it for both yourself and for them.”

  The functionary presented the pillow to the Landarch, who lifted off the star and fastened it on Alucius’s tunic, over his left breast. Then the Landarch gestured again.

  A second functionary stepped forward with a carved chest, which he opened and displayed.

  Inside were golds, hundreds.

  “There are two golds for every man who came to Deforya,” the Landarch said. “It is not enough. I do not have the golds that all deserve, and this is but a token, but it is a token given to you and your men, and only to you and your men. I will convey my appreciation to your Lord-Protector in my own way.”

  “You are most thoughtful, Honored Landarch, and I will be sure to convey your graciousness and your appreciation to the troopers and to the families of those who fell.”

  “I do believe you will, Overcaptain. Our thanks are most real, for all that they are not as munificent as I would wish.” The tentative smile turned ever so slightly more professional and less tentative. “I understand that you will be leaving at the end of the week.”

  Alucius hadn’t heard that, but it gave him another six days to get stronger and make sure that the depleted force had enough in the way of supplies and equipment. “I understand that is the plan, provided we have the necessary supplies and equipment.”

  “Marshal Seherak and Submarshal Ahorak will make sure that all of your needs will be supplied.” The Landarch’s gaze fixed on the two below the dais. “All of them.”

  Both marshals inclined their heads in obeisance.

  “We wish you well on your return to Lanachrona,” the Landarch added. “We will not forget what you have done.” He nodded a last time and stepped back.

  Alucius bowed, then stepped down from the dais, at an angle, because he wished neither to turn his back on the Landarch nor to back way. The functionary with the chest of golds followed.

  The two marshals escorted Alucius back out of the receiving hall, then through the great hall and back toward the entryway, trailed by the man with the chest.

  As they neared the archway leading out of the palace, Submarshal Ahorak spoke. “This afternoon, Majer Wasanyk will see you about any other needs you may need for your return trip.”

  “I’ll look forward to meeting with him, and we appreciate the concern and support.”

  All three men smiled, expressions of differing degrees of falsity, Alucius knew.

  Outside, Egyl and third squad were still waiting, as were the Deforyans.

  “Egyl…we’ll need someone trustworthy to carry that chest back.”

  “Yes, sir.” Egyl turned in the saddle. “Waris, forward!”

  The scout took the chest, setting it before him. Then Alucius mounted Wildebeast and offered a last nod to the two marshals on the stone steps above the mounting blocks.

  Egyl did not speak until they had left the palace courtyard and were riding southward on the main street, back toward the lancer post. “The star, sir?”

  “Oh…that. It’s the Star of Gallantry. The Landarch didn’t want to give out several hundred. So he gave it to me and told me to wear it for everyone.”

  “I’d wager he didn’t put it quite that way, sir.”

  “Close enough,” Alucius said. “And that’s what we’ll tell everyone.”

  “And the chest, sir?”

  “Two golds for every trooper—or two for the families of those who didn’t make it.”

  “It’s something,” Egyl allowed.

  “The Landarch apologized that it couldn’t be more, but he is supplying us with food and more ammunition for the return. He made it quite clear to the marshals that we are to have whatever supplies we think necessary.”

  “Kind of him.” Egyl’s voice was dry.

  “I don’t think we want to overstay our welcome. We’ve made him very nervous.”

  “I can see that. Even without what you did, sir, our five companies killed more of the nomads than their twenty-five did.”

  “The Lord-Protector has something like a hundred companies. I’d guess that the Landarch has the strength of maybe fifteen companies at the moment. I’d be worried, too.”

  Egyl chuckled. “Did you tell the Landarch about the other road?”

  Alucius grinned. “I forgot to mention that. So did Majer Draspyr.”

  “Sir…” Egyl laughed.

  “They weren’t too interested in Black Ridge. If they’re curious enough, they’ll find out. We left traces. If not…” Alucius shrugged. “We need to get ready. There’s a majer coming to see what we need in the way of supplies this afternoon. Talk to all the squad leaders and acting squad leaders. Make sure we have a list of everything that we really need—especially how much ammunition, and spare packhorses and horses for the supply wagons.”

  “Yes, sir.
I’d started on that already.”

  “Good.” Once again, Alucius recalled how fortunate he’d been to have experienced squad leaders like Longyl and Egyl. His face sobered as he thought of Longyl…and Heald.

  76

  In the wide bed that was so empty without Wendra beside him, Alucius turned over in the darkness. Quickly, he sat up, reaching for his sabre. Even with his night vision, the figure standing inside the doorway was dim, and scarcely larger than a ten-year-old child.

  Overcaptain…you will not need any weapons. You may bring them if you wish.

  Alucius frowned. The woman had not actually spoken, and her lifethread was solid green, its solidity unlike that of any person he had met. Yet his Talent told Alucius that she meant no harm. He was still wary.

  Please dress and follow me. There is something you should know before you leave Dereka.

  Alucius considered, then slipped out of bed and pulled on his trousers, tunic, and boots. He did belt on his sabre. As he dressed, the cloaked woman remained just inside the door, unmoving.

  He stepped toward her, catching a sense of amusement as his fingers brushed the hilt of his sabre.

  You will not need that, but bring it as you wish. She turned and touched the ancient light-torch bracket, one that had been modified to hold an oil lamp. Noiselessly, a section of the stone wall opened, but only about half a yard.

  Without looking back, the woman stepped through the aperture. A yard back inside the opening was another bracket, this one holding a light-torch. The woman pointed to the light-torch. Alucius took down the light-torch and thumbed it on, although he did not need its narrow bright beam to see the steep stone steps on the far side of the small windowless chamber. The steps led straight down. A faint glow suffused all the walls and the floors, and Alucius realized that where he stood had been constructed entirely of gold eternastone.

  The small woman glided down the steps, again without looking back. After glancing back over his shoulder to see that the entrance remained open, Alucius followed. He could sense that no one had been in the stairwell for years, if not for far longer, yet there was no dust, and the air was neither stale nor musty. Did the eternastone preserve the air as well? The steps continued downward, for the equivalent of three stories, if not more.

  Two yards beyond the bottom of the stone steps was another square stone archway—two stone pillars, topped by an oblong stone lintel. Alucius continued to follow the woman—who was, he realized, somehow akin to either a soarer or the wood spirit who had given him the key to unlocking the torque of the Matrial. Yet she had no wings, and there were no trees nearby, not in Dereka.

  Beyond the archway was a long chamber whose high-vaulted ceiling rose a good five yards above Alucius’s head. The chamber was more than fifteen yards in length, and about six in width. There were no windows, and the walls were covered with artwork of some sort.

  Look closely…

  Alucius pointed the beam of the light-torch at the mural that ran all the way around the wall, then realized it was not a single mural, but a series of scenes, each two yards long, and a yard in height. The colors were as vibrant and as fresh as the day they were laid down. They had to be because Alucius couldn’t have imagined them as any brighter than they were. Each scene was incredibly lifelike.

  He forced himself to begin with the first one, to the left of the archway, which depicted a ship without sails, its curved cutwater throwing back water and foam to suggest a great speed. At a jackstaff flew a pennant Alucius had never seen, one with two crossed scepters, both metallic blue, if subtly different in design, set in a sharp eight-pointed, brilliant green star. From the size of the figures at the forward rail, the vessel was close to two hundred yards in length. The star was the same shape as those used by the Landarch, and a match in shape to the Star of Gallantry.

  The second panel was of a creature with leathery blue wings, folded back along its body. Beside the pteridon stood a warrior in glittering blue armor holding a blue metallic lance. His face was luminescent white, his eyes violet, and his hair and eyebrows shimmering black.

  In the third panel, a sandy-haired and tanned figure stood lashed to a T-shaped metal frame in the middle of a circular stone dais. The man’s mouth was open, as if in protest. Above and to the left of the dais was a tall podium or lectern, made of some sort of reflective blue metal. Behind the lectern stood a woman in shimmering blue robes. Her hair was shining black, her face and neck luminescent white, her lips red, and her eyes violet. From somewhere above, blue light played across the figure in the frame, and blue flames had begun to erupt from the man’s gray tunic.

  Alucius slowly moved the beam of the light-torch from panel to panel, for although he could make out the outlines of each scene without its light, he would have missed the finer details. There were scenes of mighty sandoxes with purple-tinged white skin pulling huge wagons along the high roads at great speed, of cities filled with buildings of gold eternastone and shimmering green towers, of a port filled with dolphin ships, of tanned men and women gathering fruit from rows of trees, overseen by an alabaster-skinned supervisor, of a huge barge headed south on the River Vedra—that location Alucius recognized because the river levees were identical to those he had seen in Hieron, although he saw no sign of a city such as Hieron.

  He walked slowly, taking in each of the scenes. He went back and counted. There were twenty-one scenes. Another thought struck him, and he played the light-torch back across the panels. All the faces of those depicted in positions of authority were of that luminous white, and all the white-faced figures shown in detail had black hair and violet eyes.

  He turned, as if to ask the spirit-woman…but the chamber was empty. He played the light across all the walls and up into the vaulted ceiling, but she was gone.

  Alucius turned and walked back up the stone steps, wondering if he had been trapped, if the opening were still there. It was, and he could not but help breathing a gentle sigh as he stepped into the main chamber of his quarters. The opening did not close.

  Finally, he twisted the tight-torch bracket upright, and slowly the stone wall closed. Alucius stepped forward and ran his fingers over the ancient stone. The joins were so fine that he could not determine exactly where they were. Even with his Talent, he could not sense anything behind the stone, as if the eternastone blocked his Talent.

  Had it been another dream? It had felt far too real. He looked down, realizing that he still held an ancient light-torch, of a kind he had never seen, whose beam created a sharp circle of white light on the stone floor. He thumbed it off and slipped it inside his tunic.

  Once more, he looked at the oil lamp bracket, just above his head. After several moments, he reached up once more and turned the bracket. Again, the opening appeared in the stone. He stepped back through the opening, but the long stairwell was still there, leading downward. He turned and walked back into the chamber, where he returned the bracket to its upright position. The opening vanished.

  Why had the spirit—or had she been a disguised soarer—why had she appeared now, after the battles? Why had she shown him the hidden ancient mural? His stomach clenched slightly.

  Turning, he glanced out the window and could see the graying of the sky. Rather than try to sleep for less than a glass before dawn, he undressed and went to the washroom adjoining his chamber to wash up and prepare for the day ahead. And to think.

  III.

  Darkness of Triumph

  77

  Septi had dawned clear and cooler, perhaps fore-shadowing the turn of harvest, now less than a week away. The sky above the lancer courtyard was brilliant silver-green, and a brisk but not chill wind blew out of the north. Alucius was mounted, his back to the open gates of the post. Before him, the troopers—consolidated into three companies—had formed up by company.

  “Twenty-first Company, present and ready, sir,” Egyl snapped out.

  “Fifth Company, present and ready, sir,” Feran reported.

  “Third Company,
present and ready, sir!” Koryt was still wearing a splint on his left arm, and a sling.

  “Stand easy.” Alucius turned Wildebeast and rode back through the opening between Twenty-first and Fifth Companies until he reached the open courtyard behind them. He reined up short of the stone balustrade of the platform where Marshal Seherak stood.

  “Overcaptain.”

  “We stand ready to depart Dereka, Marshal.”

  “All Deforya wishes you well on your return home.” Marshal Seherak smiled warmly. “Your efforts were magnificent, Overcaptain, and your bravery beyond belief.”

  Without even really trying, Alucius could sense the coldness behind the expression, as if confirming once more how his Talent had become one of his physical senses, functioning all the time, rather than having to be called up through concentration. He could also sense the veiled contempt, as though the marshal felt that Alucius to be a lucky and brainless fool. “We both know, Marshal, that such bravery was born of desperation, carried out with skill, and rewarded by luck.” Alucius smiled.

  The marshal’s smile changed, almost imperceptibly, and he replied, “That may be, but it was bravery, nonetheless.”

  “We all are placed where we do what we must, sir, and I thank you for your consideration, and for your generous supplies for our return journey. I will convey your courtesy and your regards to the Lord-Protector.”

  “We are all appreciative of the Lord-Protector’s support of an independent Deforya in these times.” The marshal emphasized “independent” ever so slightly.

  Alucius wished the Iron Valleys had been treated more “independently” by the Lord-Protector, but he had the feeling that Deforya would not be independent that much longer, not with the way the Deforyans fought and the way the Deforyan landowners acted. “I will convey that as well, Marshal.” Alucius bowed his head slightly, then turned Wildebeast, riding toward the gates. There he took his place behind the token vanguard, at the front of the main body of troopers.