Cadmians Choice (75 page)

Dainyl sensed he was
as much exhausted as wounded, so exhausted Dainyl could barely detect any
Talent at all.

“How did ...
hostilities start?”

“I asked if he was
designated by the Duarch to take over the duties of the regional alector. He
didn’t answer and threatened me with his sidearm. I asked where he had gotten
it, since it was a Myrmidon weapon. He tried to shoot me. Things went from bad
to worse, then.”

Dainyl could well imagine,
and he didn’t need the detailed description. He knew more than enough. He
smiled. “Once you recover, Majer, you are to withdraw to Hyalt and consolidate
Third Battalion and complete your duties there. Until you depart Tempre, your
forces are to withdraw from the administrative complex, but hold the compound.
The Seventh Myrmidon company will be sharing the compound with you until you
depart. They will take over guarding the administrative building. Both you and
the Myrmidons are not to seek out any rebels, but should they appear, they
should be destroyed.” Dainyl offered a smile. “I doubt that anyone will attack.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I wish you a speedy
recovery, Majer. You have done more than anyone would believe possible.”

Dainyl stepped back
and let Fabrytal lead the way down to the entry hall. The chatelaine followed.
When he reached the front entry, Dainyl turned to her. “Thank you for your care
of the majer, and for your courtesy in allowing us to see him.”

“It wasn’t courtesy.
It was common sense. You have power. I do not.”

Although the words
were far different from Lystrana’s, both in tone and style, there was still
something about her that reminded Dainyl of his wife. “Good day, Chatelaine,
and thank you.”

As he rode back to
the compound, Dainyl considered the situation. The majer and his Cadmians had
killed more than thirty-five alectors, perhaps as many as fifty, all armed with
lightcutters. The details of the deaths would have to be kept quiet for many
reasons. Dainyl would just report that more than thirty rebel alectors had been
disposed of by forces under his command, and that in the conflict, the rebels
had sabotaged the Table. That would need repair and replacement as soon as
possible, as would the Table in Hyalt.

Dainyl had hoped to
use the Tempre Table to return to Elcien, but now he would need to return to
Dereka with Fifth Company and take the Table from there.

He’d also hoped to
leave Cadmians to guard the comlex, but that was out of the question now. They’d
either get massacred, or they’d kill more alectors. The first aternative didn’t
set well with Dainyl, and the second wouldn’t set well with either the High
Alector of Justice or the Duarches. Dainyl doubted it would matter to Shastylt.
As for Hyksant and Fhentyl knowing that the majer had Talent, he’d just tell
them that the majer’s wounds had reduced his Talent, that he might not even
recover, but that if it became a problem, he’d take care of it.

Leaving Seventh
Company wasn’t all disadvantageous. It would provide a logical reason for keeping
the company in the west and out from any direct control by Alcyna. In fact, it
would probably be days before she even discovered where the company was. Tables
didn’t show pteridons and alectors.

Dainyl smiled at
that—briefly. He had little enough to smile at these days.

Mykel had dreamed.
That he knew when he struggled awake on Decdi. He also knew that the dreams had
been anything but pleasant. He just didn’t recall exactly what they had been
and was just as glad he didn’t. His back did not hurt him so much, but he felt
far stiffer overall, and while he could move his left arm, any motion sent
sharp pains from shoulder to fingertips.

The shutters to the
wide window had been cracked, enough for him to tell that it was still early,
not much after dawn, but not for him to see what he thought might be a small
interior courtyard. The bronze wall lamp had been snuffed, and the room was
dim.

He was slow in
getting out of bed and making it to the adjoining bath chamber and facilities,
tiled, and with running water, if only lukewarm, but a definite luxury he
particularly appreciated, stiff and sore as he was. By the time he relieved
himself, washed up some, and returned to bed, he felt exhausted, but he did
manage to adjust the pillows to prop himself up. For a time, he just rested
against the pillows, his eyes closed.

Sometime later, at
the click of the door lever, he opened his eyes.

A young woman,
scarcely more than a girl, dressed in the light gray smock of a retainer, over
darker gray trousers stepped through the half-open door of the bedchamber. She
carried a tray, but did not speak as she approached the bed. Her eyes avoided
Mykel’s as she placed the tray on the side table. A second, older woman in gray
appeared with a wooden bedtable that she placed over Mykel’s legs. Then the
younger woman placed her tray on the bedtable. Both departed without a word.

Mykel looked at the
meal on the tray—egg toast, perfectly golden, with breakfast browned potato
strips, a fresh peach, sliced into crescents in a light clear syrup, three
strips of beef in a cream gravy, a pitcher of steaming hot cider, and another
one of ale, with two mugs. At the side was a small pitcher of berry syrup for
the egg toast.

He ate slowly, and
discovered he could not quite finish the beef. Usually, he would have preferred
the hot cider, but good as it was, he found the ale settled more easily.

He wondered where
Rachyla was. He recalled talking to her on Decdi afternoon—he thought that was
the right day—but he found he did not remember what he had said. Why couldn’t
he remember? He let himself rest on the pillows, trying to recall.

He must have dozed
off, because he jerked awake at the sound of boots on the tile floor. The
bedtable and tray had been removed, and he had not even noticed.

Rachyla stepped into
the chamber and seated herself in the side chair, an image of perfection in
dark green shimmersilk shirt and trousers, with a light green vest.

Mykel found himself
smiling. “This is far better fare than I was ever able to provide for you. Thank
you.”

“I am glad you
recognize that, Majer.” As always, it seemed, her voice was cool. “How are you
feeling this morning?”

“Better.”

“That is good.”

“We talked yesterday,
did we not?”

“We did.”

“I find I cannot
remember.”

“That happens with
head injuries, Majer. You have quite a lump on the side of your skull. You are
fortunate it is so hard.”

“What did we talk
about?”

“I asked you about
how you became a Cadmian. I learned a great deal about your family. Then you
fell asleep.”

Mykel wished he could
recall the conversation.

“Sleep helps heal.
You do look better. You could not have looked much worse.”

“I do feel better. It
might be best if I did not remain longer.”

“Majer. Ruela
reported that it took all your effort to walk to the washroom and back. Amaryk
and I could not afford to have you leave in such weakened condition. Neither
your officers nor the submarshal would look kindly upon that. You will be here
at least two more days. Longer if you do not regain your strength.”

“I did not wish to
impose any more than I have.”

“Any damage you have
done has already been incurred. Do not compound it by leaving before you are
strong enough to do what you must.”

There was, unhappily,
all too much wisdom in what she said, Mykel realized. He was weak. “I defer to
your wisdom, chatelaine.”

“Would that others
did.” Rachyla closed her mouth, as if she had said too much.

Mykel wasn’t sure how
to reply in a way that did not appear either condescending or naive about her
situation. Finally, he asked, “What did you think about Submarshal Dainyl?
Besides the fact that he’s one of the evil ones?”

“You should not mock
one who offers you hospitality, Majer.”

“I apologize.” He
paused. “I’d like your thoughts, but all you’ve ever said is that he’s evil.”

“All the alectors are.
Their presence on our world is evil.” Rachyla shifted her weight in the side
chair slightly, turning to face Mykel directly. “Some are evil merely by their
presence, and do not add to that evil. Others would be evil upon whatever world
from which they come. Some few, although evil by their presence, strive to do
their duties without creating more unfairness and unhappiness. The submarshal
is more powerful now than he was in Dramur. He will create even more evil by
attempting to do what he sees as good. Few of the other alectors will
appreciate what he does, but will fear to oppose him directly. That makes
matters exceedingly dangerous for those who must do his bidding or be near
him—as you have twice discovered.”

Mykel nodded. “That
is true.”

“My words, Majer, are
but those of a mere woman.”

“As I have told you,
Rachyla, more than once, you never have been nor ever will be a ‘mere’ woman.”

“You waste words on
flattery, Majer.”

“Truth is not
flattery,” he replied. “My words may be unwelcome, but they are neither wasted
nor untrue.”

“Such gallantry. So
wasted.”

Not upon you, not
that it will make any difference. “Gallantry is all that I can offer at the
moment.”

He thought he caught
the hint of a smile in Rachyla’s eyes, but if it had been there, it vanished
immediately as she stood. “I am glad that you are improving. You need to rest,
Majer.”

“I fear I have little
choice.”

“You do not. I will
check the dressing on your arm this afternoon.” With a quick nod, she turned.

Mykel listened to her
boots on the tile, fading away.

He closed his eyes.

Although Fifth
Company had lifted off from Tempre less than a glass past dawn, the last
pteridon did not set down at the Myrmidon compound in Dereka until little more
than a glass before sunset on Decdi. Dainyl was stiff, sore, and tired, and
decided that making a Table translation to Elcien that evening, much as he
wanted to see Lystrana, would be unwise. He needed to go into whatever awaited
him relatively fresh and rested. Even on an end-day evening, there might be less
than pleasant surprises awaiting him.

While he slept
relatively well, he awoke just before dawn, and was at the recorder’s
goldenstone building little more than a glass later. He wore his flying jacket,
and under it, not obviously, two fully charged sidearms.

Unsurprisingly,
Jonyst waited for Dainyl in the recorder’s library just above the steps that
led down to the Table chamber.

The recorder rose
from the armchair where he had been perusing a sheaf of papers. “Good morning,
Submarshal.”

“Good morning,
Recorder.”

“I’ve been watching
events through the Table—as I could.” Jonyst paused. “Before I forget, you
should know. Yadaryst came in and used the Table last evening. It was, I’d say,
less than a glass after you and Fifth Company returned. He was in a hurry. He
hasn’t returned.” Jonyst’s black eyes held a humorous glint.

“I don’t imagine he
told you where he was translating?”

“No, but the only
Table on the grid that showed activity after he left was the one at Ludar.”
Jonyst grinned. “I did tell him that the Tables at Hyalt and Tempre weren’t
functioning.”

“They both need
substantial repairs.”

Jonyst’s grin
vanished.

“From the mess they
left, it looks like Fahylt’s personal forces did something they shouldn’t have
in Tempre. A section of the Table exploded. The Table in Hyalt... the power
crystal was shattered. Other than that... it looked to be fine.”

“I know you’re in a
hurry, Submarshal, but would you mind explaining?”

Dainyl did, although
his explanation dealt with the two regional alectors and their forces, and the
actions of the Myrmidons and Cadmians—and, of course, the apparent support of
Rhelyn and his rebels by Veluara and Qui-varyt. Dainyl did not say more about
the damage to the Tables, or the ancients. When he finished, he waited for Jonyst
to speak.

“You’ve forced a
number of people to act before they were ready, and others to decide whom they
will support before the outcome is clear.” The elderly recorder cleared his
throat. “You will not be popular with many of the High Alectors or with the
Duarch Samist. Khelaryt will be pleased, but he can do little to support you
directly.”

“How do you read the
east?”

“Brekylt and Alcyna
will disavow any support of Rhelyn, and they will claim Captain Veluara acted
without orders. Quivaryt will continue to build forces for them in Dulka.
Sulerya and Captain Sevasya will become more isolated, and Sevasya will have
trouble getting certain supplies unless you ship them directly from the west.
Shortly, Alcyna will request that Seventh Company be returned to Dulka.”

Dainyl nodded,
thinking that it might be wisest simply to post Seventh Company to Tempre for a
time, or even permanently. That would cause hardship for some of the Myrmidons,
at least temporarily, but he could probably find ways to get the immediate
families of those few who had them to Tempre. That would also put a check on
Fahylt as well, particularly if Dainyl kept in close touch with Captain
Lyzetta. “What else? You have seen far more over the years...”

Jonyst cocked his
head, just slightly. “There will be more ‘unauthorized’ translations, primarily
to the east, and the recorders there will deny them. They will claim that
Sulerya and I are either misrepresenting what is happening or lying in order to
turn the Duarches against those living east of the Spine of Coras.”

“There were more than
two hundred rebel alectors in Hyalt.”

“I’m scarcely
surprised, Submarshal. I would imagine they represented less than a third of
the successful undocumented translations from Ifryn.”