Cadmians Choice (35 page)

“Submarshal, sir!
Welcome back to Lysia.” The duty officer was on his feet as soon as he saw
Dainyl.

“Is the captain in?”

“Yes, sir. That way,
sir. Second door.”

“Thank you.” Dainyl
had remembered, but appreciated the directions.

Sevasya was standing
beside her desk. A slow smile crossed her wide face. “Submarshal. Two visits in
less than a season. What can we do for you?”

Dainyl didn’t bother
to close the door. Not yet.

“I’m attempting to
clarify some matters. You didn’t take over here until after Noryan was
transferred to Alustre, did you?”

“No. It was a year
later.” The smile faded.

“Is there anyone
still here in the company who was? If there are, I’d like to speak to them.”

“I think Undercaptain
Juanyl was, but I’d have to check, and maybe Aisenyt. You know that Submarshal
Alcyna has tended to require more rotation than in the west?”

“I’m aware of that. I’m
also aware that Eighth Company is more stable than the others.”

“For the last five
years or so, that’s true. If you’d like to follow me, sir.”

Dainyl followed
Sevasya down the corridor two doors to the small file room.

“This will take a
moment.” She opened the topmost of the second row of file cases, flipping
through the jackets inside. “Date of service ... arrival...”

Dainyl smiled and
waited.

Less than a quarter
glass later, the captain straightened and turned. “I was right. Juanyl was here
then. So far as I can see, he’s the only one.”

“Is he here this
morning?”

“Everyone is. We try
not to fly on days that are this hot and damp, except very early in the
morning, or just before sunset. His collateral duty is maintenance officer.”
She replaced the dossier and closed the file box. “Do you want to talk to him
now?”

“That would be best.”
Dainyl cleared his throat. “After Undercaptain Juanyl, I’d also like to talk to
Undercaptain Sledaryk.”

“He’s only been here
a few weeks.”

“I know. It’s about
what happened in Dulka after I visited there. But, if we could see Juanyl
first...”

“This way.” Sevasya
turned, and the two walked back down the corridor, out the rear doorway of the
headquarters building, and across the courtyard. They found the undercaptain in
a small room, looking at a set of plans. Juanyl was a midsized alector, a half
head shorter than Dainyl. His skin wasn’t alabaster white, but bore a tinge of
almond, perhaps because of the years of flying service.

“Captain ...
Submarshal, sir. I was checking the drain plans. With last week’s rain, we had
some problems ...”

“Juanyl, the
submarshal would like a few words with you.” Sevasya looked to Dainyl.

“There’s nothing
secret about this, Captain. I’d hoped you’d stay.”

She nodded.

Dainyl turned to the
older Myrmidon. “I’ve been trying to find Myrmidons who knew Majer Noryan
before he went to Alustre. I know that was years ago ...”

‘Twelve years, sir,
to the season.”

“What can you tell me
about his early times in the Myrmidons?”

“Well, sir... I can
tell you this. I never thought he’d be more than a career ranker, sir. Maybe
not even that. He was the company driver for three years. Good with horses, and
shy with people. He was always nervous, and thin. Never said that much, and
looked sort of strange if anyone told a joke, like he didn’t understand. Majer
Alcyna, she was the one who said things would change, and I guess she was
right.”

“Were those her
words?” asked Dainyl.

‘That was a long time
back, sir, but as I recall, what she said was that times were changing and that
even Noryan had a role to play. Sort of smiled when she said that.”

Dainyl could imagine
Alcyna saying that, especially if he happened to be right about what had
happened and was continuing to happen. He could sense Sevasya stiffening inside
her relaxed exterior.

“Is there anything
else you can remember? Did he have any special abilities?”

“Except with the
horses ... and even the pteridons, I can’t say that he did. Often wondered if
he felt more comfortable with them. I don’t think he ever risked either animal
on anything. Don’t think he could have, but... that was then.”

“Did he ever have any
close friends here?”

“Not that I know. He
was a translation orphan, fostered north of here. Wasn’t close to his foster
parents, even though they schooled him. Both of them died in an accident of
some sort, maybe six months after he went to Alustre. It could have been less.”

“How well did he
speak?”

Juanyl chuckled. “Who
would know? I never heard him say much more than ‘Yes, sir’ or ‘No, sir.’“

Dainyl asked a few
more questions, listening carefully to the responses, before saying, “Thank
you. I appreciate your spending the time.” He turned. “Captain ... if we could
proceed.”

“Yes, sir.” Sevasya
led Dainyl back across the humid courtyard. “For the moment, Undercaptain
Sledaryk has been the one drafting flight and schedule rotations for my
approval.”

Dainyl thought he
understood.

The two walked back
into headquarters, halting at the first door inside the building.

Sledaryk jumped to
his feet. “Submarshal! Captain!”

“The submarshal
wanted a few words with you, Undercaptain.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dainyl took a moment
to study Sledaryk, both with eyes and Talent. Two things were clear. First,
Sledaryk was relatively young for an undercaptain, and, second, he was strongly
Talented, if not particularly well trained.

“How long did you
remain in Dulka after Captain Veluara took command?”

“Two days, sir. Just
long enough to gather my gear. I was told that Captain Sevasya needed an
experienced undercaptain because one of hers had put in for a stipend. I took
my pteridon; it’s easier that way. I was told that Undercaptain Hasya flew hers
to Alustre to be transferred to a new—another Myrmidon.”

Sevasya nodded. “Hasya
was tired of the damp and the heat and wanted to be in Alustre. She’d found a
position with the Highest of the East, with the chief of trade. It was easier
just to transfer one pteridon to a new flyer.”

“Did you meet Captain
Veluara?”

“Yes, sir, but only
once or twice. She was pretty busy with the new regional alector. That’s
Quivaryt. Nothing much got done after... after you were there. Not for a while,
anyway.”

“I imagine,” replied
Dainyl dryly. “How would you describe Captain Veluara? I’ve met her, but I’d
like your impressions.”

“Ah ... yes, sir.”
Sledaryk paused. “She looks young, sir, but she’s a lot older than she looks,
you know, the way Majer Faerylt was. She got right on the business of getting
the company moved to the new compound—knew where everything was supposed to be
and who was doing what. She knew everyone’s name and background, even.”

“Would you say that
she seemed very experienced?”

“Yes, sir. Very much
so, sir.”

“Did she say anything
about what would happen to the old compound?”

“Undercaptain Lyzetta
asked about that. Captain Veluara said that was one of the things she was
working out with the RA, and that the Highest of the East had already made
plans for the old compound once we’d moved. She didn’t say what they were, just
that it was up to the Highest.”

“Did anyone in
Seventh Company know Captain Veluara from an earlier assignment?”

“I don’t think so, sir,
but I didn’t ask anyone. I was getting ready to leave.”

“Did Captain Veluara
spend much time debriefing you?”

“No, sir. I mean, we
spent maybe a glass where she asked about my squad, and the rankers in it, how
long they’d been there, if they were local or from places like Alustre, whether
any were married, just background information.”

“Did any replacement
for you arrive, or do you know if the captain intended to promote someone?”

“She said that
Submarshal Alcyna would be dispatching an undercaptain from Alustre shortly.”

Dainyl nodded slowly.
“Thank you, Undercaptain. I think that you’ll find you’ve been extraordinarily
fortunate to be transferred to Eighth Company, and I do trust you’ll appreciate
that.” He looked to Sevasya. “Captain ... I’ll need a few moments of your time.”

“Of course.” Sevasya
led the way back to her study.

Neither officer said
anything until the captain closed the door.

“How did she think
she could get away with it?” asked Sevasya. “Except she did, didn’t she?”

“It makes sense. Noryan
was a translation orphan. No one knew him, not really. Alcyna picked him when
he was still young and then transferred him to Fourth Company.”

“How did you figure
out that Noryan wasn’t Noryan?”

Dainyl shrugged. “I
couldn’t say. He didn’t feel right, and some of the reports—I know one was
changed.” All of that was true, although it wasn’t the whole truth.

“You think Veluara is
one, too?”

Dainyl would have
wagered that, based on his own earlier observations of the newly promoted
captain and on what Sledaryk had said, but he replied, “I don’t know. It’s
clear that she’s part of whatever they’re planning.”

“What are you going
to do? If I might ask, sir?”

“For the moment,
nothing. One doesn’t accuse two distinguished officers without some sort of
hard proof.”

“And a great deal of
support from one’s superiors,” she added.

“That, too,” Dainyl
admitted with a laugh. After a moment, he asked, “And what are you going to do,
as a Myrmidon captain and daughter of a Duarch?”

“What I can—guard
Lysia and do my duty. I’m barred from contacting him, and he’s conditioned
against listening to anything I might say.” Sevasya looked squarely at Dainyl. “You
have better access to him than do I.”

Dainyl scarcely had
any access. He had enough rank to get perhaps a single appointment, and that
would have to be through Lystrana. That would put both of them—and their unborn
daughter—in even greater danger. What would he say to the Duarch? That he
believed the Highest of the East was conspiring, perhaps with the Duarch of Ludar,
to do ... what? Dainyl still had no idea at what end all the conspiring was
aimed. To gain power and depose the Archon while bringing the Master Scepter to
Acorus? To thwart the possibility that Zelyert might want to stop the Master
Scepter from coming to Acorus and thus support the Archon? What if Khelaryt
happened to be subtly encouraging—or not discouraging—Zelyert’s plans, whatever
they were? Should the Master Scepter come to Acorus?

The more he saw what
Brekylt and his allies were doing, the less he seemed able to determine why.

“I have some access,
Captain. But without more knowledge, it will not be useful, except to secure my
death.”

“Then ... had you
best not discover it, Submarshal?”

Dainyl smiled, wryly.
“Like all knowledge of value, it is not easy to discover, and once discovered,
to understand.”

In the end, Dainyl
walked briskly back to the Table chamber, his Talent-senses alert, even as he
recognized that Lysia was one of the few places where he was relatively safe.

Sulerya was standing
beside the Table as he entered the chamber.

“Are things stable?”
he asked.

“For now. Probably
for a while. At least until the next time you try a translation somewhere.” She
tilted her head slightly. “Did you discover what you were looking for?”

“Yes, but it’s not
anything I can use to prove what’s happening.”

“You may never be
able to prove anything, Submarshal. Does that mean you will not act for what
you see as the best?”

“That is a good
question, Recorder. I don’t have an answer for it.”

“You’d best find one,
then.”

Dainyl glanced at the
Table. How safe was it? Did he have any choice?

“Submarshal Dainyl?”

“Yes, Sulerya?”

“The Table tracking
systems don’t seem to be functioning at the moment.” The hint of a tired smile
crossed her mouth. “That won’t affect your translation, of course.”

“Thank you.” Dainyl
stepped onto the Table.

The purpled darkness
between Tables was undisturbed. Dainyl did not even sense a single flash of
green beyond, and there were no attempts at impeding his progress. The
silver-white barrier dissolved away from him.

His uniform was
scarcely chill when he stepped off the Table.

Chastyl stood
waiting. The recorder inclined his head to Dainyl. “Welcome back, Submarshal. I’m
glad to see that you had no trouble with the Tables.”

“So am I... and thank
you.” What puzzled Dainyl about the greeting was the genuineness behind the
words. Chastyl was clearly pleased to see him, although it was equally clear
that the recorder had no special liking for him.

Dainyl arrived at
Myrmidon headquarters less than a half glass after morning muster. He was still
standing in his study, looking at the reports on the side of his desk, when
Shastylt appeared in the study doorway.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Where have you been?”

“Is something wrong?”
Dainyl reinforced his shields.

“Outside of having a
deputy I can’t find? No. That’s bad enough.”

Dainyl wasn’t about
to argue about half a glass, although Shastylt was often gone for longer
periods. “I’ve been in Lysia—”

“Zelyert told me that
he’d strongly suggested you confine your activities to your duties.” Shastylt
stepped into the study.

“I was there on
Myrmidon tasks, sir.” Dainyl slipped around his superior and closed the door.

“Such as?”

“I have fairly strong
indications that many, if not all, of the officers in three of the four eastern
companies are not who we think they are. Noryan is probably a translated
Myrmidon from Ifryn.”