Cadmians Choice (21 page)
Authors: L. E. Modesitt
Had she tracked down
proof of what Rensyl was doing? Was the eastern engineer actually fabricating
weapons based on road-building equipment? When Dainyl and Lystrana had last
talked, he had not known of the possible involvement of the Duarch of Ludar
with Brekylt. He hoped his wife would be safe while she accompanied her
Highest.
He slept uneasily.
As a result, he was
up early and in his study at Myrmidon headquarters well before morning
muster—and that was after a quick inspection of the compound and First Company.
Just after he
finished with fourth squad, he recalled something and turned back to
Undercaptain Chelysta. “I forgot to mention that I ran across one of your
cousins last week.”
“Sir?”
“Granyn. He’s a
junior ranker at Myrmidon headquarters in Alustre. He’s a driver, waiting for a
place as a flyer. He said to send his greetings.”
Chelysta shook her
head. “That imp. I’ve only seen him once—that was when he was barely walking.
He was always getting into things.”
“He might get into
Third Company under Majer Noryan.”
“Majer Noryan?”
Chelysta shook her head. “I never thought he’d make majer. Thin as a rail and
not much taller than me. He was a translation orphan, you know. Didn’t have
many friends. More at home with horses. Came from a tiny place where his foster
mother was the only alectress around. I didn’t even hear he’d joined until
later.” Chelysta shook her head. “And Granyn ... that’s hard to believe.”
“Your cousin has that
air, still, but he works hard. Anyway, I promised I’d let you know.” Dainyl
smiled. “How are things going?”
“Some of the dispatch
runs have been tight until first squad got replacement pteridons from Sixth
Company in Lyterna. Captain Elysara sent word that there weren’t any more
spares at Lyterna—or anywhere else. Can’t believe we lost two of them.”
“It happens. Not
often, but it does,” Dainyl replied.
“But how, sir?”
How was he going to
answer that without revealing the role of the ancients? He offered a rueful
smile. “You know that pteridons can only fly so high before they reach an
altitude where there’s no lifeforce?”
“Yes, sir.”
“There are places,
usually in the mountains, where there’s no lifeforce, and sometimes no one
knows that they’re there. Under certain conditions”—like an ancient being
present and unfriendly—”a pteridon and rider can’t escape.”
The undercaptain
winced. “I suppose we’re lucky that there aren’t too many places like that.”
She paused. “Is there any way to tell?”
“The only way I know
is that the few I know about were near ruins of the ancients in the mountains.”
“No one ever
mentioned that.”
“There aren’t many,”
Dainyl said. “Do you have dispatch duty tomorrow?”
“No, sir. Not until
Octdi.”
“I hope you get good
weather.” He nodded and then turned.
As he walked back to
his study, he considered what Chelysta had said. Noryan was certainly not rail
thin and short. Could there be two with the same name? He spent a quarter glass
going through all the rosters, but there was only one with that name, and he
came from the area near Lysia. Chelysta must have been talking about when he’d been
a youth.
The issue of spare
pteridons was another matter. According to the Myrmidon records, before the
recent losses there had been ten additional pteridons in the cavern squares at
Lyterna. Why had Elysara indicated there were no more replacements? Was she
saving them to keep them from going to the east in the future? Or was that a
decision by Asulet? Dainyl had no doubts that the elder alector’s decisions
would weigh heavily with the Myrmidon captain in Lyterna, possibly even
outweigh anything except direct intervention by the Duarch of Elcien.
Dainyl settled into
his study and took out several sheets of paper, jotting down thoughts and
phrases for the report on his eastern inspection tour. He wasn’t about to
attempt even a rough draft until after he spoke with the marshal.
He’d worked for close
to a glass when Colonel Dhenyr appeared in his doorway.
“Sir?”
“Come in, Colonel.
What can I do for you?”
“It’s about the Iron
Stem flights. The marshal ordered a recon on Septi. He wants third squad to do
it, but they’re scheduled for dispatch duty then ...”
“You’ll have to
adjust the dispatch schedule. Have fourth squad take their duty and run a
three-squad rotation until third squad returns.” Dainyl paused. “That’ll be
down to a two-squad rotation for the first part of next week, with second squad
doing a sweep of the Vedra.” He studied the colonel, even as he wondered why
Dhenyr had even asked him. That was the sort of adjustment Dainyl had made
routinely when he had been operations chief. “You’ll get used to making those
adjustments. Just don’t accept a request from the Duarch’s assistants without
checking with me or the marshal.” Dainyl had learned that one the hard way.
“Yes, sir. Thank you,
sir.”
Once Dhenyr had left,
Dainyl leaned back in his chair, setting the pen aside. The colonel’s
Talent-shields were adequate, but not impressive. His organizational skills
were modest, to say the least. He could be charming, and his record showed that
he had been a good flyer and flight commander, but those were scarcely
abilities that merited promotion to colonel—except that the Duarch of Elcien
would not have wished Sevasya moved from Lysia, although Dainyl did not know
why, nor would Asulet have wanted Captain Elysara transferred from Lyterna.
Ghasylt and Fhentyl weren’t senior enough, and Majer Keharyl in Ludar owed his
allegiance to Samist. The other company commanders were all in the east, and
loyal to Alcyna, and, presumably, Brekylt. So Dhenyr had to be the choice. Yet
Sevasya had suggested that there were other reasons as well, without detailing
them. That was another reason why Dainyl wanted to go to Dereka.
“Dainyl!” The marshal
marched into the study, closing the door behind him.
Dainyl stood. “Sir.”
“What do you plan to
do, now that you’ve finished your inspection tour of the east?” asked Shastylt.
“I thought I’d write
a brief message commending all the Myrmidon companies in the east for their
cooperation, their readiness, and their dedication to the Duarchy, and saying
that such readiness reflected most favorably upon all Myrmidons, from the
newest rankers to the sub-marshal of the east.”
“Excellent!” Shastylt
laughed.
“After that, sometime
in the next few days, I’ll be going to Dereka. I know there’s probably nothing
I can do about it, but they did lose five skylances there, and a handful of
alectors vanished.”
The marshal frowned.
“Besides, Asulet told
me that it was an ancient city before we rebuilt it. I’m still concerned about
the ancients and any links to the skylances.”
“Submarshal Alcyna
has a strategy for dealing with them. Didn’t you tell me that?” Shastylt’s tone
was gently ironic.
“You’ll pardon me,
sir, if I’m skeptical about a strategy that costs two pteridons and two
alectors for every ancient destroyed. There just might be more than a few
hundred ancients hiding up on the Aerial Plateau—or in the heights of the Spine
of Corus.”
“And you’ll find an
answer by going to Dereka, Submarshal?”
“Probably not, but if
I visit every Myrmidon outpost that can be reached by Table, neither Brekylt
nor Alcyna can bring a complaint to the Duarches that I singled out the east
for inspections. In practice, I don’t have to visit Ludar, so that just leaves
the Myrmidon companies in Dereka and Lyterna, and I can claim I’ve already been
to Lyterna. In addition, we are not faced with an immediate crisis, and this is
a good time to remind all of them that headquarters does issue the orders and
to let them put a face with a name.” Dainyl smiled politely. “Besides, they won’t
put mere suspicions on paper, and I might learn something more.”
“There is that.”
“If you have
objections, sir...”
Shastylt waved a
large hand, dismissing the idea. “No... no. You’re right. Now is a good time to
make those visits. I’d hope you could make them as brief as possible. We may be
facing some other difficulties before long.”
“Iron Stem?”
“The Cadmian
battalion commander has reported a number of disappearances around Iron Stem.
In some cases, his scouts have vanished. Their footprints just ended, he
claims.”
“You scheduled recon
for the area.”
“I don’t know what it
will show, but...”
“It’s close to the
Aerial Plateau,” Dainyl said. “Do you think it could be the ancients?”
“It’s probably the
Squawts. They’re all over the area and even more devious than the indigen
Reillies. Either way, the recon should provide information for the Cadmians.”
“If it’s not Iron
Stem... are you thinking about Brekylt?”
“The Highest reported
that certain resources have been diverted to the engineering manufactories in
Fordall. This has been going on for a time, and it was handled in a very
sophisticated manner.”
“What are they
manufacturing that they don’t want known?” Dainyl knew very well, but decided
to avoid that issue. “Is that where the seltyrs of Dramur got their rifles?”
“It could be.”
Shastylt paused. “Or Brekylt could be building something more formidable.”
“I’ll leave for
Dereka tomorrow,” Dainyl said.
“Do that.” Shastylt
started to leave, then turned back. “As before, no written reports about
anything involving the east.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dainyl looked at the
empty open doorway for several moments after the marshal left. Then he reseated
himself and began to draft his report to Alcyna and the Myrmidon company
commanders of the east.
Dainyl eventually
made his way home on Quinti, where he paced around the lower level and then the
foyer—until he heard the door open. He whirled, stepped forward, and wrapped
his arms around his wife—tightly.
“I’m so glad to see
you.” He held on to her for a time.
“Careful... there are
two of us....” Lystrana stepped back, smiling. “That was quite a welcome.”
He nodded, not
wanting to say more at the moment. “You didn’t have any trouble in Ludar?”
“We can talk about it
later. I’m hungry ... and not so hungry. Some cheese might be good. Some warm
bread, if we have any.”
“Zistele just took
some out of the oven.”
“Good.” Lystrana
covered her mouth. “Kytrana is making ... some things more difficult. Your
mother stopped by the other day. She said uneasy digestion means a strong
child.”
“That sounds like
her.” Dainyl gave a wry smile, taking Lystrana’s cape and hanging it on one of
the wall pegs beside the door. “Everything that’s difficult bodes for a better
future.”
They walked toward
the sunroom, filled with the late afternoon light. Dainyl eased out a chair for
Lystrana.
“I’m not delicate. I’m
just carrying a child.”
“I didn’t say a word.”
She laughed. “You
didn’t have to.”
Zistele slipped the
basket of bread and a small platter of cheese onto the table. “Supper will be
ready in half a glass, alectress.”
“Thank you.”
As was their custom,
Dainyl’s and Lystrana’s conversation before, during, and after the evening meal
dealt with matters other than matters of the Myrmidons and Duarchy.
“Your mother said you
were a greedy little boar from the time you were born.”
“I had to be. She
didn’t like feeding me,” countered Dainyl.
Lystrana sighed
softly, and Dainyl could sense the melancholy.
“You’re thinking
about your mother?”
She nodded. “I just
wish ...”
“I know.” Dainyl didn’t
need to say more. Lystrana’s mother had stepped into a Table twenty-two years
earlier, and never emerged. Her father had never truly recovered, and had
retreated to Lyterna. He’d only lived another four years after his wife’s
death.
“She would have been
so happy.”
“I’m sure she would
have been.”
Later, before they
retired to their bedchamber, Lystrana poured half a goblet of the Vyan Grande
brandy into a goblet for Dainyl, but less than a fingerful of brandy for
herself.
“Is that... ?”
“I’m being careful. A
little doesn’t hurt, even helps.”
They walked upstairs
wimout speaking.
After closing the
door, Dainyl sat on the chair beside the shuttered window, holding his goblet.
Lystrana propped
herself up on the wide bed. “Why don’t you start?”
“Me?”
“You.”
“I think some of the
recorders are watching the Tables for me, but the translation wasn’t a problem.”
He paused. “I thought I sensed a green flash, like the ancients. Have you ever
felt anything like that?”
“I can’t say I have.
Can you tell me any more about what it’s like?”
“It’s ... just
amber-green ... for a moment. In any case, when I got to Lysia, the recorder
there was quite welcoming. It didn’t make much sense, until she informed me
that she was Asulet’s daughter. Likewise, Captain Sevasya is the younger
daughter of the Duarch of Elcien ...” Dainyl rushed on to inform Lystrana of
what he had discovered and what had occurred until he had returned. ‘Then, when
I read your note, I have to say that I was more than a little worried. Today, I
spent some time with Shastylt and wrote out my report on my tour. I tried not
to worry too much.”
“It might be a good
thing that I didn’t know what you found out when we met with Samist,” mused
Lystrana. “Once I knew what to look for with Rensyl’s accounts, the patterns
were obvious. I just pointed them out to my Highest, and he insisted we both
brief the Duarch of Ludar, rather than the High Alector of Engineering.”
“I’m glad he insisted
on that. There have been far too many strange things happening with the
engineers lately. The thousands of rifles secretly fabricated for the seltyrs
on Dramur, Paeylt’s efforts to undermine Asulet, and this business with Rensyl.
Did you sense any reaction from Samist?”
“He’s very
conflicted, like you said Khelaryt was when you met him. It was almost as
though he wanted to hear and understand... and didn’t. My Highest—have you ever
met Chembryt?—tried to get the Duarch to see the problem.”
“I haven’t met any of
the High Alectors personally, except in passing at receptions. You think that
Samist is fighting the shadowmatch conditioning?”
“I think it’s more
than that. We’ve been forced to allocate more golds for supplies to several of
the regional administrative centers—Hyalt, Tempre, and Dulka are the ones
requiring more these days. They all have different reasons. In Tempre, the RA—that’s
Fahylt—has documented Squawts crossing the Vedra and buying up more grain and
fruit, increasing prices at a time of local drought. In Hyalt, Rhelyn claims
that he’s having to purchase supplies from Salcer and Krost, with higher
transport costs, because neither Hyalt or Tempre can supply him fully. Kelbryt
claimed that he had to spend extra golds on helping pay for the remediation of
the floods north of Dulka.”
“Those were in Catyr,
some four hundred vingts north of Dulka,” Dainyl pointed out. “Kelbryt had
something else in mind. Otherwise, why would he and Faerlyt have attacked me
before I said a word?”
“I didn’t know that,
but even chief assistants to the High Alector of Finance can’t speak out too
often,” Lystrana replied. ‘That’s particularly true when the Duarch is being
curt, as if he didn’t want to talk about the extra outlays. Especially after we’d
already pointed out the problems in the east.”
“That may be true of
both Duarches. They don’t like to hear about problems,” reflected Dainyl. “I’m
more inclined to think along the lines Asulet suggested, but I’m not even sure
I agree totally with him.”
“What do you think?”
What did he think?
Dainyl did not speak for a time. Finally, he replied. “I think Zelyert and
Asulet are right about the lifeforce constraints. Asulet is certainly correct
about how much knowledge we lose with each new world translation, but his real
interest is lifeforce creation. Alcyna is accurate in the dangers presented by
the ancients, and Brekylt is right about the dangers of holding too closely to
a rigid plan. Khelaryt distrusts both the Archon and those on Efra, but he is
compelled to obey the Archon. I’m not certain that Shastylt is interested in
anything but power, although he’ll use Zelyert’s words to the greatest effect.”
Lystrana nodded. “That’s
a good summary.”
Dainyl understood
what she meant. He really hadn’t offered his own thoughts, except as judgments
on others. “I don’t know what to think. Acorus won’t survive long if the Master
Scepter is transferred here. That’s clear. It should be clear to most of the
High Alectors.”
“What if it is?”
questioned Lystrana.
Dainyl nodded slowly.
“The internal personal conflicts of the Duarches would make sense, and so would
all the plotting. Even the Efrans would prefer it, because—”
“The political
second-raters and hangers-on would come here. That would allow the High
Alectors from Ifryn and Efra to build Efra without so much lifeforce drain.”
“But they would need
to make sure that lifeforce progress continued here and that they could
retransfer the Master Scepter in generations to come,” Dainyl pointed out.
“We’ve been getting
Table engineers,” replied Lystrana. “And lifeforce specialists.”
“Even the ancients
must suspect something.”
“They wouldn’t have
to. In any fashion one considers it, we’re a threat to them.”
Dainyl looked past
Lystrana, at the shuttered window on the far side of the bedchamber. “All the
disruptions fomented indirectly by Zelyert haven’t changed anything.”
“Do you think they
were meant to?”
“No,” he admitted.
The silence stretched
out between the two of them.
After a time, Dainyl
spoke. “You asked what I thought.” He gave a twisted smile. “I think most of
those involved know the problem. Each has his or her own solution and plans,
and not a single one trusts another. No one’s words can be totally trusted,
even when they’re true, because the truth can be used as much to deceive as a
lie, and it’s more effective. All we can do is look for acts and signals.” He
looked at his wife. “Am I wrong?”
She shook her head slowly.