Cadmians Choice (55 page)

Mykel could feel a
growing purpleness somewhere behind him. After a moment he turned his head.
There, to the northeast, flying in a staggered V formation, with each trailing
pteridon higher than the one before it, were five Myrmidons, arrowing toward
the regional alector’s compound.

Rifle in hand, Mykel
made his way back to the waiting squads, using what cover there was, mainly
scrub bushes, low junipers and a few small pines.

“Third Battalion!
Squads to standby positions! Squads to standby positions.”

Dravidyl, the squad
leader for fourth squad, appeared and handed Mykel the ammunition belt. “Thought
you might want this, Majer.”

“Thank you.” Mykel
nodded and took the belt, draping it over his right shoulder, the one less
sore, before turning and heading back to his vantage position to wait and watch
what was about to happen between the Myrmidons and those alectors who seemed to
hold the compound to the south.

Fhentyl was waiting
when Dainyl returned to the way station, standing on the flat grassy area to
the north of the structures. Dainyl settled the pteridon and then walked toward
the captain.

“Sir? I was getting
somewhat concerned.”

“The majer was in the
middle of Hyalt presiding over a court-martial. It would have been worse to
interrupt him than to let it play out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Extortion, murder,
rape, abandonment of duty, and assault on lawful superiors—all in one
court-martial and from one bad Cadmian,” Dainyl added. “You can see why
dragging him away wouldn’t have been advisable, not when a glass or two
probably won’t make that much difference now. Later, yes, but not now.”

“Ah ... what
happened?”

“The majer handled it
like a Myrmidon officer, fairly and effectively. It was a pleasure to see competence.”
Dainyl hadn’t seen that much exemplary ability among the Cadmians, although he
had the definite impression that Mykel was rewarding and building it among his
own battalion officers. The late Majer Vaclyn had never recommended officers or
commended them, but Majer Mykel clearly had decided on who could replace him
and had no hesitation in saying so.

Majer Mykel also had
greater control of his Talent than many alectors, and yet Dainyl had the
feeling that the majer was truly unaware of the extent of the power he
possessed. In a way, Dainyl almost hoped that the majer didn’t discover it,
because there were so few landers or indigens with the ambition and
intelligence the majer possessed. Still, by ordering the Cadmians to provide
secondary flanking support and placing the majer where he had, Dainyl hoped
that the majer could use his limited Talent against Brekylt’s and Rhelyn’s
forces.

“Now what, sir?”

“As we planned, first
squad will escort me. Three will remain circling, while I land with two
pteridons. You will follow with the rest of the company, but remain low enough
to stay out of view from the compound, but where you can see if any of the
circling Myrmidons use their lances or are attacked. In either case, you will
immediately join us. If they should attack, our immediate task is to destroy
everything in open view and then withdraw, except for a small patrol on a
continuing basis to keep them within their walls.”

Fhentyl’s brow
furrowed.

“The single
outbuilding is stone. The Table and most of the support structures are carved
into the stone of a small mountain. We’ll only waste the skylances firing
against solid rock. Once they understand that they are confined, we’ll keep
them there while I undertake the second part of the strategy.”

The captain nodded. “Tempre?”
After a moment, he added, “You haven’t indicated why you wish to take the
administrative center there.”

“Partly because it’s
the only place from which they could easily obtain supplies and partly for
other reasons. First, let us see how welcoming alector Rhelyn is.”

“Sir ... aren’t you
exposing yourself unduly?”

Dainyl shook his
head. “I don’t think so. Whether Rhelyn is behind this or someone else is, a
direct attack on a submarshal is a provocation that the duarches are unlikely
to take lightly. Resistance by denying access will gain them more time. If they
don’t know the rest of Fifth Company is nearby, they’re less likely to be
overtly aggressive, at least if they know word would get back.”

“That’s, why you want
the other three circling. But won’t they see that?”

“I’m certain that
they will. To them, that will convey weakness and unwillingness and inability
to act directly.” Dainyl gestured for Fhentyl to follow him as he crossed the
space between where the two pteridons had set down and the remainder of first
squad.

Undercaptain Hyksant
stiffened as Dainyl approached. “Submarshal.”

Dainyl looked to the
undercaptain. “As I told you earlier, Galya and Dyrmant will land at the
compound with me. They’ll have their skylances at the ready. You and the other
two Myrmidons will circle. You’ll also have your lances out. If you see any
sort of cart or any tripodlike device, destroy it instantly—even if there’s
someone standing beside it. Keep, alert for someone pointing one of them from
windows in the buildings or on the roofs.”

“What are the
tripods?”

“Road-cutting
equipment modified to act like a skylance,” replied Dainyl. “They don’t draw
lifeforce from directly around them, but from crystal storage. That’s why they
need carts or something similar.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dainyl ignored the
appalled glances that Fhentyl and Hyksant exchanged. “That’s it. Let’s lift
off.”

As if to punctuate
his words, a gust of warm air swept across the way station, swirling eddies of
sandy dust, then died away. Dainyl walked back to Galya and her pteridon and
climbed into the second saddle.

In moments, first
squad was airborne, with Galya’s pteridon leading the formation. Despite the
importance of the flight, Dainyl enjoyed the air on his face, the sun all
around him, and the lands spread out beneath the pteridon’s wings. For several
moments, he savored flying, even as a passenger. Then he began to survey the
terrain ahead and below.

As they neared the
regional alector’s compound, Dainyl studied the hills, noting that Third
Battalion was moving into position—presumably after observing the pteridons. He
nodded. The majer had kept his men in more comfortable and less exposed
positions until necessary.

Dainyl only saw a
handful of figures out in the open— between the single stone building and the
carved archway to the underground complex. One pointed toward the pteridon
squad, and all hurried out of sight into the archway. That strongly suggested
guilt and fear.

By the time Galya’s
pteridon folded its wings and settled onto the flat paved area before the
single freestanding stone structure, there was no one left in the open. Dainyl
noted that all the windows in the building had been modified into slits, so
that the structure resembled a fortress, rather than the regional
administrative center it had been originally built to be. He dismounted, one
hand on the butt of a sidearm, his shields at full strength.

The main door opened,
and a tall alector stepped out into the hot and hazy afternoon sunlight. He
stopped less than two steps from the door, which remained ajar.

“Might I ask your
reason for being here?”

Dainyl ignored the
insolent tone and smiled politely. “Submarshal Dainyl of the Myrmidons, here to
pay a courtesy call on Rhelyn.”

“The regional alector
regrets that he is tied up with some pressing concerns, Submarshal.”

Dainyl studied the
alector who confronted him, not only with his eyes, but his Talent. The darker
purpled aura was an indication that he had translated recently from Ifryn.

“I do hope that the
regional alector is in good health,” countered Dainyl. “And who might you be? I
cannot say that I recognize you.”

“I am but a humble
assistant to the honored Rhelyn.” A wave of Talent extended toward Dainyl,
nearly as powerful as that projected by High Alector Zelyert. You will do as I
say . . . do as I say. . . .

Dainyl’s shields
held, and he ignored the command. “Then I suggest you humble yourself and allow
me a moment with him.”

“As I said, he is
engaged in more pressing efforts....” Do as I say ....

Dainyl could sense a
concentration of force rising within the structure, and his Talent focused. “Galya!
The top slit window on the right! Fire!”

Even before he
finished the sentence, Galya’s skylance flared.

A soundless flash of
white light flared from the slit window, and the narrower redstone blocks more
recently added to reinforce and narrow the window exploded outward.

Dainyl’s lightcutter
was in his hand. The blue beam flared toward the unidentified alector, spraying
around his shields. “Dyrmant! The other upper window!”

A welter of
lightbeams flashed across the open paved area.

Dainyl pulled the
second lightcutter and aimed it—as well as the first— toward the alector, who
had stepped back, trying to hold shields and retreat at the same time. Dainyl
followed with a Talent-probe.

Galya’s skylance
arrowed at the insolent alector.

Abruptly, the alector
vanished in a purplish haze. Three bluish beams flashed through where he had
stood and struck the now-closed wooden door, then sprayed into rainbows. The
door was untouched—clearly imbued with lifeforce as a protection.

Dainyl glanced back.
Dyrmant’s pteridon was riderless, the skylance lying on the sand, and his
uniform beside it. The submarshal turned and sprinted to the riderless
pteridon, first jamming the lightcutters into their holsters, then grabbing the
skylance and half-vaulting, half-climbing into the saddle.

Lift! He sent the
command. The pteridon did not even hesitate at his becoming its flier and began
to spread its wings.

“Lift off!” Dainyl
ordered Galya.

Both pteridons were
airborne near-instantly.

Left! Stay low.
Dainyl wanted to minimize the chances of the rebels being able to use one of
the light-cannon against the pteridons—and their far more vulnerable fliers. As
always, the pteridon sensed the thoughts behind the command. Less than fifty
yards separated pteridon and flier from the highest of the scrub junipers.

Only when he was a
good vingt to the east of the compound did Dainyl begin to climb, followed by
the four other Myrmidons of first squad. Just to the north circled the other
three squads of Fifth Company. One of the pteridons separated from the company
and turned toward the approaching squad.

Shortly, Fhentyl’s
pteridon drew abreast of Dainyl’s, higher and to the left, so that wing-tip
vortices did not affect either pteridon. “Sir? What do you require?”

“Dispatch one squad
at a time to keep constant surveillance. They’re to flame anyone and anything
that appears in the open.”

“Yes, sir!”

“I’m going to give
orders to the Cadmians to leave one company on patrol, both to keep any
supplies from nearing the compound and to make sure no one leaves, in case
there are tunnels or the like. Don’t have any of our pteridons land, no matter
what! Once I finish there, I’ll return to the waystation and meet you there.”

Fhentyl raised a hand
in acknowledgment before he banked away from Dainyl.

The submarshal turned
north, circling back toward the hills where the Cadmians remained drawn up. He
looked over his shoulder. Galya was flying wing, above and to his left.

“Circle while I land!”
he called.

“We’ll cover you.”

Dainyl doubted he’d
need that much cover, but it couldn’t hurt. The air felt good streaming past
his face. He had missed flying, but wouldn’t have wanted to return to it
because a Myrmidon died carrying out his plans. If he’d had more time, he would
have climbed behind Galya and let Dyrmant’s pteridon follow, because, sooner or
later, he’d have to go through the laborious business of transferring the
pteridon to young Brytra, far harder when the previous flier was still alive.

Approaching the
Cadmian position from the east, he took a moment to reorient himself, then
settled on a point on the ridge just behind the middle of the Cadmian line.

Down ... on the ridge
. . . below the tall juniper.

The pteridon glided
in, flared, and settled onto the grassy area on the northern edge of the
flatter section of the ridge.

Before long, Majer
Mykel hurried toward the pteridon. “Submarshal, sir?”

“Yes, Majer.” Dainyl
swung down from the pteridon. Belatedly realizing that he still held the
skylance, he slipped it into its holder before walking toward the Cadmian
officer.

“No rebels or
intruders sighted, sir.”

“Good.”

“We did note
skylances and weapons from both the cliff and the structure.”

Dainyl hadn’t realized
someone had fired from the cliff. He’d need to mention that to Fhentyl. “How
large a force would you recommend to keep a patrol around this area and to keep
anyone from sending supplies into the compound?”

“You’re besieging the
regional alector’s compound?”

“It’s no longer his,”
Dainyl replied. “It is in the hands of those who oppose the Duarch, and they’re
not to receive supplies.”

Mykel frowned.

Dainyl sensed a
change in the majer’s lifeforce, somehow, behind the shields, but then,
Talented or not, the majer was only a lander.

“I’d judge a company
in this area,” the majer replied, “and two squads from another company to
patrol the roads with access to the compound.”

“The reason for the
patrol of the roads, Majer, is to protect those who might supply the compound.
Anyone or anything nearing the compound will be destroyed by those pteridons.”
Dainyl pointed to the south, where five pteridons circled. “You can also tell
your men that those who remain here will not be used in any direct attack. That
would be foolish and a waste. Later, they may have to deal with stragglers and
survivors, and those could be dangerous. Whatever you and your officers do, do
not let any of the rebels approach closer than fifty yards. If you cannot stop
them at that distance, pull back. Make sure that Captain Rhystan is clear on
that as well. Do you understand?”