Cadmians Choice (53 page)

Dainyl nodded slowly.
There had been nothing about a death in the garrison with a lightcutter, but
his best guess was that someone, perhaps the Cadmian killed with the
lightcutter, had observed and recognized the rebel alectors, and enough of the
garrison had seen the killing that all had to be silenced. “He and you were
right to be concerned. There are rebel forces, and they may have control of the
Regional Alector’s compound.” He looked up at the sound of hoofs on the
pavement of the courtyard. The captain must have had a squad on ready standby.

“I’ll need to check
with the majer.” Dainyl walked over to the spare horse and mounted.

“Yes, sir.”

As he rode past the
pteridon, looming above even the mounted Cadmians, Dainyl looked at the
grounded pteridon and its flyer. “Just hold here.”

“Yes, sir.”

The street down to
the high road and the high road itself were nearly empty, although several
indigens stared openly at the alector riding with a squad of Cadmians. When
they neared the square, Dainyl surveyed the area. Two full Cadmian mounted
companies were drawn up— one on the east side of the square, one on the west
side.

Dainyl rode slowly up
the west side, behind the ranked Cadmians, until he was abreast of the center
of the square. There he dismounted and handed the reins to one of the Cadmians.
He made his way through a gap in the mounted riders, then stopped.

In the space south of
the statue of the duarches was a small table. Behind it sat the majer and a
gray-haired local. The local was slightly to one side, in a position suggesting
that he was merely advising the majer.

Three benches were
set facing the table. On the single bench to the east sat a lone Cadmian, his
wrists bound before him, with five Cadmians standing behind the bench, but
facing the majer. On one of the other benches on the west side sat a woman with
a bandaged and bruised face, and two other women. On the other bench sat two men
in patroller’s tunics, and a Cadmian with a heavily bound arm in a sling.

Dainyl had to use his
Talent to hear the proceedings.

One of the patrollers
had just stepped forward. “Conner, sir.”

“... what you saw on
Quattri morning?”

“... well, at first,
wasn’t much at all to see. The girls in Wurlua’s place, one of ‘em came running
to the post, said there was a crazy Cadmian in one of the rooms ...”

Dainyl listened as
first one patroller and then the other told his story. Next came the older
woman, whose hair should have been white, but was an orangish blonde.

“... seemed nice
enough ... polite ... two coppers

for the room for the
whole night — came in with Fylena... she don’t usually go with fellows, but you
don’t know ... Didn’t see it, but heard steps later, heavy ones, and it was
Oskart, fellow who’s usually with Fylena. Went upstairs in a hurry. Heard some
loud talking. Someone laughed. There was a lot of moving around, and then
everything got real quiet. Didn’t hear nothing, not at all—”

“No cries? No screams?”
asked the majer.

“None that I heard.
Not until later. Must have been a glass later. Fylena screamed her head off...
things like ‘Killer!’ Other things, too....”

After the older
woman—Wurlua, Dainyl gathered— the next witness was Fylena, the battered woman.

“... asked me to meet
him at Wurlua’s for a drink. Gave me a half silver.”

“Why did you go?”
asked the majer.

‘Tavern closes after
midnight... he said he had to check in, but that he’d be back, and that he had
a bottle and a room at Wurlua’s ... seemed nice enough ... promised me another
half silver... anyway, he met me outside Fusot’s place, two glasses past
midnight, something like that... went up the back way... he had some more of
the brandy ... so did I... he started to take off my clothes ... told him I
wasn’t that kind of woman... thought he just wanted company ...” The woman
shuddered, then went on. “I screamed, but I guess no one heard....”

“How loudly did you
scream?” asked the majer.

“Loud, sir. I did.
Oskart heard me, and he came through the door. The trooper there, didn’t even
give him a chance, just took his dagger and ran in through his eye. Then, he
barred the door, and gagged me ... and ... he ... well... he did what he wanted
... more than once ... it was.” She shuddered again. “When I could get a hand
free ... got the gag off... that was when I really screamed....”

Dainyl nodded,
wondering how the majer would handle the evasions and misstatements.

“Could you explain
why no one in the house heard you, but a man who was outside could?”

“He did, sir. He did,
and he killed him.”

The majer asked
several more questions, enough that it was clear to Dainyl that he knew the
woman was lying.

Then came the Cadmian
on trial. Dainyl could sense an ugliness of aura about the man and wondered if
Mykel could as well.

“... wasn’t like that
at all, sir.... Me and the girl were talking at the tavern. I told her that I
had to go to the barracks and check in, but I could get back and spend some
time with her, if you know what I mean, and she asked what I meant. I gave her
half a silver and said I’d like to enjoy her, and that she could have another
later. Now, that’s as clear as you can get, sir, and she said I could get a
room at Wurlua’s.... When I came back... she had the bottle I’d bought, and we
went up the stairs. I was in no hurry, figured I had three-four glasses, and
she was a pretty thing....”

Dainyl frowned. So
far, from what he could tell, the Cadmian had been telling me truth, at least
as he saw it.

“... she starts
taking off her apron, and then her skirt, and hangs ‘em on the peg on the back
of the door... must have slipped the bolt on the door... well... she’s not
bad-looking, wearing just a shift... but the door busts open and this fellow’s
there with a dagger. He asks what I’m doing with his woman. Frig! I been set
up. You expect that in Northa, but not in a sow-town like Hyalt. I just laughed
at him, told him to get lost... he said he might—if I left first and handed
over my purse, seeing as it was his girl. No sheeplover’s going to do that to
me. Told him that, and he came after me with the knife.... Didn’t know how to
use it... I took it away from him ... woulda just tossed him out, except he
kneed me in the balls ... stabbed him ... didn’t have much choice ... went into
his eye ...”

Dainyl sensed all was
true, except for the Cadmian not having the choice about killing the bravo.

“... didn’t want the
woman to scream, and I trussed her up and gagged her.” The Cadmian shrugged. “Figured
I was done for ... so I had a drink and ... got what I’d paid for. Later she
got the gag off and started screaming. Patrollers showed up ...”

Dainyl wanted to
shake his head. Why were some indigens so stupid and so ruled by lust? He
forced himself to listen to the rest of the witnesses, but their testimony only
fleshed out the basic story.

The majer called back
several of the witnesses, and asked more questions, mainly, Dainyl suspected,
to make certain points to the townspeople who were listening.

A good two glasses later,
much later than Dainyl would have preferred, but he didn’t see that it mattered
that much, since he hadn’t actually begun his own operation, the majer summoned
the prisoner up before the table.

“Sacyrt... the counts
against you are as follows. Count one, you were absent from your appointed
place of duty. Count two, you killed a man of Hyalt. Count three, you assaulted
a woman of Hyalt. Count four, you resisted the lawful authority of the Cadmian
forces. Count five, you assaulted and injured a Cadmian in the course of his
duties.”

Sacyrt looked
impassively at the majer, but said nothing.

“This court-martial
finds you guilty on charges one, three, four, and five. It finds you not guilty
of charge two. When lethal force is used against a man, he has the right to
defend himself with whatever means are at hand.” The majer paused.

The square was
silent.

“You are hereby
sentenced to be flogged, five lashes for count one, ten lashes for count three,
five lashes for count four, and ten lashes for count five. This sentence will
be carried out immediately. Upon completion of the sentence, you are
immediately discharged from the Cadmian Mounted Rifles, with loss of all pay
and allowances, and any and all privileges arising from previous service.”

“Thirty lashes ... near-on
kill a man ...” muttered one of the locals, loud enough to hear.

“Fair’s fair,”
countered an older woman. “Fylena won’t work none for a long time. Never look
the same, either. Pretty enough, she was, too.”

“Filthy mouth, though
...”

The murmurs stopped
as the majer stood from where he had been seated behind the small table and
walked over to the prisoner. He held something in his hands, what looked to be
a small dagger. The prisoner’s eyes fixed on the dagger, and he turned pale,
but the officer merely cut away all the insignia from Sacyrt’s uniform. Then he
stepped back and made a half turn.

An undercaptain took
two steps forward and reported, “Seventeenth Company stands ready, sir!”

“Thank you,
Undercaptain. Carry out your duties.” Majer Mykel about-faced, so that he
looked directly at the statue of the duarches.

“Second squad detail,
forward!”

The five-man detail
of second squad marched the prisoner over to the stone railing around the
statue of the duarches. Dainyl noted that they never untied his hands, even as
they forced him to his knees, bound him to the stone railing, and gagged him.
Then, the five Cadmian escorts turned as one and marched to the east of the
railing, where they about-faced and came to attention.

The majer, wearing
the crimson armband of blood wrongfully shed, stepped forward. From somewhere,
he had gained a whip, not the execution whip, with razor-sharp barbs, but a
standard Cadmian flogging whip.

Majer Mykel stepped
forward. His voice was clear. “You have created pain and suffering, and for
that you will receive pain and suffering. May each lash remind you of your
deeds. With each lash may you regret the evils that you have created.” He
stepped back and lifted the whip.

The first lash cut
lines in the cloth of his tunic; the second cut even deeper lines in both tunic
and undertunic. The third drew blood. Sacyrt twisted against his bonds, but the
gag muffled any noise he might have made. The majer methodically continued to
lash the convicted man, each stroke identical to the one before.

Dainyl could sense
what amounted to three separate feelings of agony—yet two came from the majer.

Finally, the majer
straightened. “Justice has been done.”

Dainyl could sense
the strain and the fatigue held inside the Cadmian officer. He frowned. He didn’t
sense much Talent, not nearly what he had recalled Majer Mykel showing in
Dramur.

“Cut him loose, and
leave him there,” ordered the majer.

The five members of
the duty detail stepped forward and cut Sacyrt’s bonds, and ungagged him,
lowered his unconscious form on the ground before the railing.

“Cadmians. Dismissed
to your commander. Return to quarters,” Mykel stated flatly, handing the bloody
whip to the undercaptain.

“Yes, sir.” The
undercaptain turned. “Duty detail, break dowh and return all borrowed
equipment. All others, form up.”

The majer
half-turned, facing toward Dainyl. His face showed no surprise at seeing the
Submarshal. He began to walk toward Dainyl, who had remained to the side after
the small crowd had dispersed. The Cadmian company on the west side of the
square also remained, as did the squad that had accompanied Dainyl.

“Submarshal, sir.”
Mykel stiffened.

Dainyl studied the
majer. He refrained from nodding. From a distance the majer showed no Talent,
but upon close inspection his shields were obvious. That was a matter of even
greater concern—a lander with shields, but that aspect would have to wait.
Dainyl might well need that Talent. “I received your report on Duadi. It was
very carefully worded.”

“Yes, sir. I only
reported what I could absolutely verify.”

“Was it your
impression that the unknown troopers were alectors?”

“That was my
impression, sir. One was, for certain. The others were much farther away, but
they looked to be the same size and wore the same uniforms.”

The absolute
certainty of the majer’s words, while expected, still gave Dainyl a chill
within.

“What have you done
since—about those troopers?”

“I’ve had all patrols
avoid that area. I wasn’t certain whether they were a new force or something
else. If they are hostile, their weapons would inflict considerable damage on
my battalion.”

“How considerable,
Majer?”

“Considerable enough
that a mounted attack would be suicide. From cover, that might be another
story. I wouldn’t wish to try such an attack unless no alternative is possible.”

“I wouldn’t, either,
not with horses.” Dainyl laughed. “Depending on what happens later today, I may
need you to ride to Tempre with three companies for a flanking action. Is
Captain Rhystan capable of commanding the remaining four companies?”

“Yes, sir. He’s very
capable. He would make a good overcaptain or majer. At the appropriate time, I
would recommend that he be promoted.”

“In the meantime, I
would like you to take up a position behind the hills immediately to the north
and east of the regional alector’s compound.” Dainyl studied the majer. “Was
that from where you observed the rebels?”

“Generally. The
ground was rougher to the west. There were several low bluffs there.”

“That’s the line of
hills.”

“With how great a
force?”

“What would you
suggest, Majer?”