Soarers Choice (35 page)

“That
must be Soupat, sir,” Alynt called back.

“That
it is,” returned Dainyl. “The alector’s complex is on the northwest edge.” He
looked for the three buildings that sat on a low flat rise less than a half
vingt from where the iliaki trees ended. “We’ll be avoiding that for now.”

Lyzetta
began to lose altitude, angling down and eastward, well away from the three
alector’s buildings and toward the small local patroller station on the
southeast side of Soupat, beyond the fringe of the tree line.

“Lances
ready!” came her order.

Alynt’s
lance was out with the others. Without a lance, Dainyl concentrated on raising
and holding Talent shields around them.

The
patroller station consisted of two small buildings, one a barrackslike
structure and the other a stable, separated by twenty yards, with a flat
expanse of reddish sandstone to the east, intermittently covered with knee-high
dunes of fine sand, and a low hill to the northwest, barely more than ten yards
high, just enough so that the alector’s complex was most likely out of sight
for anyone at the patroller station. Dainyl couldn’t help but wonder if the
location had been a subtle statement of lander defiance.

As
the pteridons began to descend, a single patroller rushed out of the barracks,
rifle in hand. When he caught sight of the pteridons — and the Myrmidons with
their lances — he lowered his rifle and watched as the pteridons began to land
on the sand-strewn flat. Two remained circling, acting as scouts and surveying
the area.

Dainyl
dismounted quickly and walked toward the patroller. After having flown for most
of the day, he was unsteady, his legs protesting at the first few steps, but he
continued until he reached the man, who wore a short-sleeved light gray uniform
shirt with matching trousers. His belt was brown leather, and from it hung a
truncheon.

“Sir?”
The local’s voice was uncertain, filled with a combination of curiosity and
bewilderment.

“I’m
Marshal Dainyl, commander of the Myrmidons.”

The
patroller’s eyes widened as he took in the green-edged gold stars on Dainyl’s
tunic collar. “Yes, sir. Whatever you say, sir.”

“Have
you seen anyone from the regional alector’s grounds in the last few days?”

The
sense of bewilderment grew, even before the patroller replied. “No, sir.
Haven’t seen anyone at all. We don’t see many alectors in town most days,
anyway, except on market day, and then only one or two.”

“Consider
yourself fortunate,” Dainyl replied. “We’ll be using your post here for the
next few days. It could be as long as a week.”

“This
post? Whatever you want, sir, but we barely have enough room for the ten of
us.”

“Do
you have a wagon or cart here?”

“Yes,
sir.”

“We
may need to borrow that as well.” Dainyl offered a smile. “What about the
Cadmian Battalion? Where are they?”

“They
took over the old barracks at the mines.”

“The
copper mines? The ones to the southwest?”

“Yes,
sir.”

“Marshal!”

Dainyl
turned to see Lyzetta gesturing to him, still mounted on her pteridon. “Excuse
me,” he said to the patroller before hurrying back to the captain.

“A
group of insurgents are riding from the alector’s compound. They have a wagon
with them. What are your orders, sir?”

“That
means they saw us, and they want supplies before we put them under attack, or
they want us to think they want supplies. If it’s a trap, they’ll be carrying a
weapon like a rifle, but it’s more like a small lightcannon.” Dainyl paused.
“Here’s what we’ll do. Have one squad lift off immediately and circle high
enough to be out of easy range, as if you’re observing them preparatory to an
attack. While they’re doing that, the other squad will make a low pass, just
above tree level coming in right inside the north tree line. I’ll lead with
Alynt — “

“Sir?”

“I
can hold heavier shields than anyone else. We’ll make a pass almost at tree
height. That will make it hard for them to aim at us. If they have heavier
weapons in the compound, they may not be able to depress them enough to hit us.
But warn the first squad, the one climbing and circling, to be careful and stay
well back. If they see anything dangerous or strange, they should break off.”

“Yes,
sir. If you’re taking the attack, I’ll have Undercaptain Resya follow you, and
Buorl and I will rejoin squad one. I’ll keep them clear but visible.”

“Good.”
Dainyl hurried back toward Alynt, where he climbed back into the second seat
and strapped himself into the harness. “We’re leading squad two. Wait for
Captain Lyzetta and Buorl to lift off. Resya and the others will follow us.
Once we’re airborne, head northeast, over the little hill there, and then stay
low, right above the iliaki trees.”

“Yes,
sir. Is that what they’re called?”

“It
is. The leaves are knife-sharp.” Dainyl watched as the first two pteridons
lifted off, then waited until they were high enough to be visible from the
alector’s complex. “Now!”

The
pteridon eased into the air, rather than exploded, and barely cleared the hill,
then dropped into level flight about thirty yards above the tallest of the
iliaki trees.

After
they had covered a hundred yards, Dainyl called out, “A little more to the
west. You can see them on the paved road down from the complex.”

“Got
them, sir.”

The
pteridon eased slightly to the left, barely banking at all before leveling out
once more.

Dainyl
glanced back over his shoulder. Four other pteridons followed. “Skylances
ready!”

“Lance
is ready, sir.”

Dainyl
could sense, rather than see, the townspeople looking up in the heat of the
late afternoon as the five pteridons swept above the trees, in a triangular
formation, their wide leathery blue wings beating evenly, heading northwest.
Soupat proper was two vingts across, give or take a few hundred yards, and it
seemed as though only moments passed before Alynt and Dainyl were leaving the
trees behind and heading directly toward the small party of alectors in gray
and green uniforms. Because they were a third of the way down the sloping slope
to Soupat, the pteridon was flying toward them almost on the same level.

“Stand
by to fire ... fire!”

The
blue skylance beam flashed toward the lead rider, who had turned his mount
before Alynt fired, and missed by less than a yard. The blue beams from the
other pteridons flared among and around the refugee Myrmidons.

Alynt
fired again, almost on top of the party.

“Break
left! Now!”

As
the pteridon banked southward and down, the thin line of blue-green from the
wagon behind the three riders confirmed Dainyl’s suspicion that the “food
sortie” had been an attempt at a lure.

“Hard
right and come up over the slope from the west!” Not for the first time since
he’d been promoted out of flight status, Dainyl heartily wished he were the one
doing the flying. “Be ready to fire as soon as you clear the crest!”

Alynt
didn’t waste time replying, but complied.

Another
light-rifle beam flared toward them, slamming into Dainyl’s shields, and
jolting him back in the harness, but the shields held — at least long enough
for Alynt to drop below the rocky ridge to the southwest.

Dainyl
took a deep breath. He couldn’t absorb or deflect more than another one of the
light-rifle shots ... if that.

Alynt
brought the pteridon back around to the north, then dropped even lower so that
they appeared from the west, behind the refugee alectors. One of the other
Seventh Company Myrmidons had incinerated the small rear guard.

Alynt
shifted his lance, getting off two blasts from the skylance and taking down the
remaining two riders slightly ahead of the wagon.

“Fire
on the wagon! Now!” With the wagon and the two-horse team less than fifty yards
away to the left — and the alector’s compound a good five hundred yards up the
road — Dainyl wanted to finish off the diversionary — or lure — force and get
the Myrmidons back to the patroller post.

As
Alynt triggered the lance, Dainyl used his Talent, in an effort to funnel that
force into a needle point — not at the alector who held the light-rifle, but at
the weapon itself.

A
gout of flame erupted from where the wagon had been, with enough force to throw
the pteridon to the right.

“Return
to base! Return to base!” Dainyl didn’t know who would hear it, but it was more
than time to clear the area.

At
that instant, a line of deep greenish blue flared above Dainyl — clearly the
heaviest lightcannon he’d ever encountered, with so much power that he could
feel it sucking lifeforce — from somewhere — and shaking the air. His shields,
strong as they might be for an alector, would shatter in instants under that
kind of focused lifeforce.

“Lower!
As low as you can keep us without hitting anything!” he yelled at Alynt.
“Straight south and circle the town back to the patroller station.”

The
Myrmidon said nothing, but the pteridon dropped even closer to the rocky and
sandy ground, then angled even farther westward to drop behind a ridge that
Dainyl realized was actually half rock and half sand dune.

Dainyl
looked back, squinting to block out the orangish glare from the sun setting
behind the southernmost peaks of the Coast Range. He could see three pteridons
following them, but not the fourth. Although the road descending from the
alector’s complex was dotted with wide black splotches, he had no
i.e.
which splotch represented what, except that he was
fairly certain that the large one in the center was what remained of the wagon,
the horses, and the alector with the light-rifle. Whether the fourth pteridon
was taking another route or had been a casualty he wouldn’t know until the two
squads returned and landed at the patroller station.

Once
Alynt landed, Dainyl scanned the sky, now turning into the purpled dark green
of twilight. He saw no pteridons at all and could only hope that Lyzetta had
seen the massive beam of the green-blue lightcannon and ordered first squad
well away from the weapon.

Rather
than wait, hoping Lyzetta would indeed bring first squad back safely, Dainyl
strode past the patroller barracks and began to climb the low hill. He wanted
another look at the alector’s complex.

He
reached the hilltop, mostly rock, with red sandstone boulders scattered about,
and a kind of dried thornweed in the few places where there was even a
semblance of sandy soil. From there he studied, as well as he could in the
fading light, what lay across Soupat from him.

Abruptly,
he sensed Talent, and turned, taking a deep breath as he saw the first pteridon
sweep in from the southeast and settle down. Then another followed. When they
all had landed, there were eight on the ground — Lyzetta’s pteridon, and three
remaining from first squad joining the four from second squad.

Dainyl
started down the hill.

Losing
two pteridons within the first glass or so of arriving in Soupat wasn’t exactly
what he had planned, but if he’d counted correctly, the Ifryn refugees had lost
more than ten Myrmidons and one light-rifle, and he’d managed to keep them from
leaving the compound in large numbers — he hoped.

Lyzetta
was waiting for him beside her pteridon.

“What
was that greenish blue beam, some new form of lightcannon?” she asked.

“I
suspect it’s something they brought with them from Ifryn. I wouldn’t be
surprised if someone hadn’t raided an arsenal of forbidden weapons.” How things
had changed, reflected Dainyl. Until the past year, there had been no weapon on
Acorus that could destroy a pteridon. Then, Rhelyn — or more probably High
Alector Ruvryn’s engineers — had come up with the lightcannon used at Hyalt,
which had taken out pteridons from both Seventh and Fifth Companies. Now, the
insurgent Myrmidons had something that made both the Myrmidons’ skylances and
Rhelyn’s weapons look childlike in comparison.

Of
equal, if not greater, concern to Dainyl was the ravenous use of lifeforce by
the weapon. If the battle for Soupat lasted longer than a few days, the impact
on Acorus would be great enough that the world would be able to support far
fewer alectors. A few weeks, and ... who knew?

“You
don’t think it was used on Ifryn?”

“Ifryn
would already have used all of its lifeforce, and the Master Scepter would have
been — “ Dainyl broke off his words and shook his head.

“What?”

“It’s
only a guess, but Ifryn was supposed to have lasted years longer than it has.
There have been two revolts against the Archon, from what I’ve heard, and they
were put down savagely.”

“You
think they used this ... lightcannon?”

“I
don’t know, but it would explain a lot.”

“What
do we do about it?” asked Lyzetta. “We’ve already lost one pteridon and flier
to it, and you lost one to the smaller weapon. That lightcannon will destroy
anything it hits. The only advantage we have is that they don’t seem to be able
to use it often.”

“From
where they have it, they can’t fire it too low, not unless they move it, and that
would allow us to use the strategy we’d already planned.” He smiled grimly. “I
have an idea.”

Sometime
before muster on Octdi morning, Mykel managed to get himself propped up in the
quarters bed, although it took him some time because each movement of his upper
body sent waves of agony through him so great that he felt lightheaded. He
moved slowly, not because of the pain, but because he couldn’t see the point in
fainting and falling on the floor. That wouldn’t help his healing in the slightest.
He supposed he should have slept longer, but the intermittent burning in his
shoulder had made that more than a little difficult.