The Seer King: Book One of the Seer King Trilogy (51 page)

And so, on a greasy riverside dock, witnessed by one sorcerer, one general, and one domina, I received my first regimental command.

I was proud … and I was humble, remembering the faith of all those, from my father to the brass-lunged instructors at the lycee to the lances and warrants who’d taught me how to really soldier, and knew I had to prove to their memory I’d been worth the trouble.

Now I had to justify that faith.

I was determined the Lancers would march out with the rest in the morning if I personally had to be behind them with a whip.

First I found Regimental Guide Evatt, who looked most guilty, remembering the way I’d been set for a fall by the late Captain Lanett back in Nehul. I told him we had no time for the past. I wanted him to take charge of disembarking the horses and making them ready for the morrow. He hesitated, thinking of the enormity of the task, and I told him bluntly if he wished to hold his rank slashes he’d see it was done, no matter how. He had to call on the entire regiment to make sure it was done, especially the men of Sun Bear Troop, the regiment’s support element.

I sent messengers to hunt down Legate Yonge, Legate Petre, and Troop Guide Karjan.

I had Troop Guide Bikaner report to me immediately, and informed him I was commissioning him legate. He looked startled, then pleased. At least he wasn’t another like Karjan. I told him to take charge of the regiment’s enlisted men and see they were marched to the assembly area I pointed out on the map, just on the shores of one of the lakes in Hyder Park. I told him to clean out any civilians camped in the area, but to do it politely, for they’d almost certainly be nobility, no matter how shabbily dressed, and they’d have good aim at his ass if he lived through the days to come, when normality, civility, and nitpicking returned to the capital.

I had the regiment’s surviving officers assemble, and introduced myself. Most of them remembered me, if just as the young legate who’d supposedly done something uncalled for at a rõl match, then redeemed himself in the Border States. My address was simple and short. I told them there would be changes made, some involving promotions over their heads, and they were to keep their resentments hidden until later, or else I’d be most displeased and take the extreme measures these extreme times seemed to warrant.

I told them I’d admired the late Domina Herstal, which was mostly the truth, and hoped to be worthy of commanding the regiment he’d built. I finished by saying there were terrible days ahead, and they’d need all of their courage and intelligence just to survive.

“But survive you must, for I won’t be able to finish the task without you. Lead your troops as best you can, gallop always to the sound of clashing steel, and you’ll find no disfavor in my eyes.

“Lastly, you’ll be facing a cunning, evil, duplicitous enemy. Hold in your mind the skills of our troops. I want you to show the caution of the sambar, the cunning of the tiger, the courage of the lion, the stealth of the leopard, the speed of the cheetah, and, when we’re in battle, the tenacity of the sun bear.

“Now, go to your men and lead them as you’ve done in the past!”

A trifle pompous, perhaps, especially coming from a twenty-two-year-old talking to older men, some in their late forties, but not as bad as some inspirational speeches I’ve heard … or made, come to think of it. At any rate the officers raised a ragged cheer before they dispersed. But I knew their opinion of me was yet unformed, and would be made the first time we met the enemy.

Liking the comparison to the animals our troops were named after, I used the same analogy when I spoke to the regiment, drawn up on the shores of the lake. I told them they must think of me as new to the unit, so I had no grudges, no favorites, as yet Each of them and all of them were given a clean slate and a fresh opportunity.

“Soldier hard, soldier well — and stay alive! Let the other bastard die for his cause!”

The warrants raised a cheer, and the men set to.

Yonge and Petre had arrived as I was finishing, and I waved them to me.

“Congratulations, my Captain,” Yonge said. “I said you would become a general one day, and now you are well on the way.”

“Thank you, but save your admiration. You’re through guarding the Kalvedons. You’re promoted to captain, and I want you to take over Sambar Troop. Their captain drowned coming downriver. They’re the regimental scouts, but I’m sure you can teach them things about skulking.”

Yonge grinned.

“I cannot argue with that. But how will these Numantians take being led by a despised Man of the Hills?”

“They’ll like it,” I said shortly. “Because there’s always room in the rear rank for horsemen who used to have higher rank.”

“Very good, Domina. I shall go and inspect my new command. One thing more, sir. I have a message for you.”

“Give it to me.”

“I have but to show it.” He pointed. Across the park, on the far side of the regimental area, I saw Marán, sitting on a horse. I waved, although I suppose a domina is supposed to be more dignified. She waved back, then turned her horse and galloped back toward the tower. I felt a glow of love and pride; she knew I’d have no time for anything but the Lancers now.

It was Petre’s turn. “Take Tiger Troop,” I said briefly. “You should have no troubles — I remember them as the best of the regiment. I’d make you my adjutant, but you’re too damned valuable for that. And you’re now a captain as well, Mercia.”

It was as if I’d given him the throne of Maisir.

“Thank you, Damastes … I mean, Domina. Now we can show them what we can do, can’t we?” We grinned at each other like fellow conspirators who’d just won their cause, then he saluted and hurried off.

Finally, I spotted Troop Guide Karjan. I told him that he’d be serving as my right hand. I couldn’t promote him, because there could be but one regimental guide, but expected him to serve in that capacity. I guess he was becoming used to sudden change, because he just grunted, and said he’d be making sure our horses were ready for the morrow.

And so the Seventeenth Lancers set to work on our impossible task.

• • •

Three hours before dawn, I was feeling a bit of satisfaction that perhaps we’d be ready as promised, when a messenger came and asked me, with General Turbery’s compliments, to report to the tower for briefing.

The large dining room had been cleared of furniture, and large maps of Nicias hung around the walls. One by one the regimental commanders who’d freshly arrived in the capital reported. Already there were the dominas and captains of the four home regiments, including my former commander in the Golden Helms, Domina Lehar.

I was interested to see Kutulu and several of his assistants conferring with Tenedos, each of them with a large box of files.

The general called us to attention, then told us we’d be given our tasks by the seer.

Tenedos went to the map and, without notes or ever pausing, told each of us our missions and what part of the city we’d be moving into. He said that each domina would be given two aides: one an officer from a Nician regiment, the other a warden who, in Tenedos’s words, “has specialized in the Tovieti. Take heed of what they tell you, gentlemen, because their information is exact. There’ll be other wardens accompanying you who have been set their own tasks.” He paused for a moment.

“I wish you well,” he said. “This day we fight for Numantia and the future.”

I noted several of the ranking officers exchange looks, and could easily read what they were thinking from expressions — this was no creaking pedant, far removed from the harsh realities of war. Perhaps the Seer Tenedos deserved the respect he was getting from the army’s commanders.

General Turbery called us to attention and dismissed us after a few encouraging words, and we streamed back out to our commands.

Tenedos told me a week later that General Turbery had offered him a direct commission as a general that afternoon, but he’d turned it down. I asked why, and he said, “Truthfully, because I wish no trace of the old order soiling the hem of my garments. But I didn’t tell the general that, but rather that I felt I could be of more service observing from the outside.”

I’d been astonished, having an idea of Tenedos’s goals, and wearing a general’s red diagonal sash would have been a long step toward achieving them. But the seer always preferred the long shot that would strike directly home.

• • •

It was still dark when the troops moved out into Nicias. Company by company the army moved into the assigned districts. Wardens trotted behind them.

The first to go were the signs. They were ripped down or white paint was splashed over them. Then the soldiers went in, street by street, moving carefully, methodically, as we’d been ordered:

First the four corners of a block would be taken, and outposts set. Then the troops smashed into the buildings, house by house, never less than in squad strength. Each store, each residence, was ransacked. Women screamed, babies wept, men tried to fight back, but without effect. If obvious loot was found, the residents were rousted into the street. If the items were minor, their names were taken by the wardens and they were released with a warning. Bigger items, gold, piled delicacies, too many garments, and all adults were turned over to the wardens, to be escorted to prison pens being hammered together outside the Rule of Ten’s palace.

If a yellow silk cord was found, or if there was evidence someone had committed a serious crime, for instance if a warden’s sword or truncheon or bloodstained clothes were found, the men and women of that apartment were told to stand aside and were well guarded.

The search went on, house by house, tenement by tenement, until the block was completely taken apart.

The ropes were tossed over the lamp standards and the Tovieti and other men and women of violence were hanged unceremoniously.

The soldiers would re-form and march to the next block, the bodies dangling behind them and the wail of mourners keening loud into the summer air.

Those were the orders that’d been given us, signed by the Rule of Ten. I knew those weaklings wouldn’t have the guts to order such ruthlessness, and that the policy had been created by Seer Tenedos.

The mob and the Tovieti were shocked into immobility by our brutal and immediate tactics. All through that day and the next there were outbursts of violence, quickly suppressed by the soldiers, who did not use batons or blunted lances, but the sword and spear.

It was not just civilians who died. Small, desperate bands of men made sudden attacks, and squads went down screaming, and there was always the silent archer who’d loose a single arrow and flee. It was a man here, two men there, but the army was bleeding badly, more than a hundred casualties each day.

This pacification went on day after day. I grew sick with slaughter, but grimly kept on. There were things that happened at least as bad as, and possibly worse than, in the riots, but at least the rioters had the excuse of wine and rage to lessen the blame. We did not.

I’ll give but one example: I was riding with Lion Troop toward a new district, passing through an area being cleared by the Varan Guards. I saw the soldiers rush a tenement, and the screams began. A window smashed open on an upper floor, and I saw a warrant hurl something out. It spun down and thudded limply in the street, not far from where I rode past. It was the body of a boy, no more than ten.

I found the officer commanding that company, and raged at him. He looked at me without expression until I’d finished, then said, flatly, as if I weren’t his superior, “Sorry, sir. But I have my orders.” I thought of smashing him down, but was too weary with blood to do it. I turned back toward Lucan. “Besides,” he said to my back, “there’s no great harm done. Nits grow up to be lice.”

I determined to pursue the matter, but instead of complaining to his domina, Le Balafre, I went to Tenedos.

I found him in the tower, supervising six men who were maneuvering a large, somewhat battered marble statue toward his rooms on the floor above mine. I took him aside, told him what had happened, and said it was hardly the only atrocity I’d seen committed by our soldiery. Someone needed to rein the army in, before we all became no more than a murderous mob ourselves.

“Domina á Cimabue,” he said, “I have no sympathy for you. Perhaps you need a bit more iron in your soul. The Tovieti, and those who fought with them, had no sympathy for us, neither man, woman, or child. They declared utter war.

“We are fighting by their rules, and it’s far too late to change them. A ten-year-old is more than old enough to carry a cobblestone to a roof and use it to crush a soldier’s skull. We’ve both seen that happen, seen boys and girls younger than that even with blood on their hands.

“We can find people to mourn for the innocent once we’ve tracked down the last of the guilty.

“We are in a state of war. You and the rest of the army have been given lawful orders by the rulers of Numantia. Now carry them out, sir.”

• • •

That night, by chance, the Lancers were rotated back to the perimeter to be given a full night’s rest and a chance to clean up. I took the opportunity to see Marán.

I was still so gripped by the sight of that dead child that I felt no lust, no passion. I told Marán what had happened, and she was as shocked as I’d been. After a time, she said, “I don’t know what to tell you, my love. Is there anything you can do?”

“I don’t even know if there’s anything I
should
do,” I said honestly. “I feel like I’ve been thrown into a pool of filth, and the harder I struggle to get out of it, the dirtier I get.”

I got up and went to the window, looking out at the city. Marán joined me.

“Maybe this sounds stupid,” she said. “But remember how it was last week? All we could see was fires and darkness. Look now.”

From this distance, and in the darkness, the city did appear to be returning to normal. The heights, where the rich lived, now twinkled with occasional lights as the braver nobility found the courage to return to their homes. The gas had been relit on the boulevards around the palace, and it, too, looked almost as it had been, although there were far too many splotches of darkness and ruin.