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Authors: L. E. Modesitt

BOOK: Darknesses
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39

Tempre,
Lanachrona

T
he
Lord-Protector walked
to the window of the private study and gazed out
through the misty rain, looking out on the River Vedra.

“You’re
worried about something, aren’t you, dear?” The woman who spoke could not have
been called beautiful, or pretty, for her eyes were too large, and her nose too
sharp, although her voice was firm, yet melodious. “Is it the forced union of
the Iron Valleys? Still?”

“What
else could I do? You were right, and the forced union was far less costly than
a war, even if accomplished with the tacit threat of such. In time, if our rein
is light, they will forget, or at least accept. Even so, we are stretched too
thin with the western campaign. Yet if we had not acted against Madrien after
the Matrial’s disappearance, we never would have been able to take Southgate.
The nomads are stirring to the east, and sooner or later Deforya will fall, and
then we would lose the other high road to the east. In the Iron Valleys, only
the herders have any strength, and they are becoming fewer every year. With the
traders in Dekhron controlling their Council, the Iron Valleys would always
have been weak.”

“Until
someone else invaded them, as the Matrial attempted.”

“The
forced union was the best course, but I still worry, dearest,” the
Lord-Protector admitted.

“That
is not it, Talryn dear. You have talked of the Matrites and the Iron Valleys
and the problems they have created before. Is it that herder officer? You have
pondered over him far too much, given all the other difficulties you face.” She
straightened from the smaller desk where she had been writing.

“He
is the key to something. That I can feel, and yet I cannot say what it might
be, except that the Recorder likes him not at all, much as he dissembles.”

“I
would say that is something in favor of this officer. Perhaps a great deal,
even if he is from the north.”

“You
don’t care for Enyll, do you?” The Lord-Protector turned and walked toward his
consort, circled behind her, and stood with his fingers on her shoulders, his
thumbs kneading the muscles beside her shoulder blades.

“That
feels good, but you need not…”

“I
know I need not, but it is something that I can do for you that has little to
do with being Lord-Protector. You were saying about Enyll?”

“I
had said little.” She smiled mischievously.

“Say
a little more, then.”

“Enyll
has such a desire for knowledge that he would sacrifice anyone to discover—or
rediscover—the source of a new power or the design of an ancient new weapon. He
thinks less of all those who do not know what he does. I would call it the
arrogance of knowledge.”

“In
that, he is arrogant,” the Lord-Protector replied. “Yet that thirst for
knowledge makes him valuable.”

“It
also makes him dangerous and unpredictable.”

“That,
too.” The Lord-Protector laughed. “You are better than any of my ministers and
marshals at seeing to the heart of matters.”

“You
do not mind…my other deficiencies.”

“We
are young, and what will be, it will be. I would rather have you as you are
than anyone else as they might be.” He bent and kissed the back of her neck,
gently.

40

L
ittle
more than a week
after Alucius and Feran had sent their replies back to
Colonel Weslyn, a squad of militia troopers rode through the Emal Outpost gate,
again in the afternoon, as Alucius was drilling a squad, this time, fifth
squad.

The
squad leader rode straight to Alucius. “Sir? You’re Captain Alucius?”

“Correct,
squad leader. How might I help you?” Alucius didn’t like unannounced squads
appearing at the outpost, especially after the last message, the one declaring
that the Council had surrendered an independence dearly purchased with years of
sacrifice.

“We’re
the advance guard for the commandant. Colonel Weslyn.”

“The
colonel is riding to Emal Outpost?”

“Yes,
sir. He will be visiting all the outposts along the river.”

“How
long before he arrives? And how many are with him?”

“About
a glass, sir. Just another squad, sir.”

“If
you will excuse me, my senior squad leader will be with you in a moment.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Again…Alucius
had the feeling that he was being treated with far greater care and courtesy
than the average captain. Either that or the colonel had problems everywhere
and had instructed that all officers be treated with great courtesy.

Alucius
alerted Feran first, then set to work with Longyl to assure that Twenty-first
Company was fully mustered out, as if for inspection—in formation, with full
summer uniforms.

The
courtyard was crowded, with Fifth Company on the north side and Twenty-first on
the south, and through the open gates, Alucius could see that a number of
townspeople had gathered and were watching. Both Alucius and Feran were mounted
and waiting when the colonel rode through the gates at the head of another
squad, accompanied by a captain Alucius did not know, the black banner of the
commandant following.

“Twenty-first
Company, all present and awaiting inspection,” Alucius announced.

“Fifth
Company, all present and awaiting inspection…”

“Captains,
you do us honor.” Weslyn was tall and blond, his face tanned, his smile ready.
He inclined his head briefly.

“Not
so much as you honor us, sir,” returned Alucius, thankful in a way for the
training in handling such situations that he had inadvertently gained as a
Matrite squad leader.

Feran
merely nodded.

“We
will make the inspection brief.” Weslyn laughed softly. “It has been a long
ride.”

True
to his word, the inspection was brief, and the commandant offered only
complimentary comments to a handful of troopers.

Once
done, he turned his mount to Alucius and Feran. “If you would not mind,
Captains…we would like a moment to wash up before we eat, and, at that time, discuss
why we are here.”

“Yes,
sir. The quarters for visiting officers are ready, sir, although they are not
large.”

Once
the commandant had dismounted and turned his mount to a trooper from the squad
that had accompanied him, Alucius turned. “Twenty-first Company! Dismissed to
the outpost!”

“Fifth
Company! Dismissed to the outpost,” Feran followed.

Alucius
and Feran turned their mounts to Vinkin, something Alucius normally would not
have done, but he wanted to talk to Feran before they met with the commandant.

The
two officers slipped to one side of the courtyard in the shade and well away
from the barracks and the headquarters building.

“What
do you think?” Alucius asked.

“He’s
visiting every outpost on the river. That means change. We’ll all be moved or
put under Lanachronan command…or something. What else could it mean?”

Alucius
nodded. He also had no doubts that the squad leader of the advance guard had
been ordered to tell them that. “We might as well go wash up ourselves and see
what he has to say.”

The
colonel was waiting in the small mess when the two captains joined him and the
captain accompanying him.

Alucius
had forgotten that Colonel Weslyn stood half a head taller than Alucius
himself. Only a handful of men were that much taller, and few were both taller
and broader across the shoulders. Colonel Weslyn was both. With his silvering
blond hair, his square jaw, and piercing blue eyes, he presented an impressive
appearance as he stood in the small officers’ mess.

Alucius
scanned the colonel with his Talent. Not to his surprise, Weslyn’s lifethread
was amber brown and ran southwest, certainly not the lifethread of a northerner
or a man likely to understand herders.

“Greetings,
Alucius, Feran,” said the colonel, his voice full and deep.

Alucius
nodded politely. “Greetings and welcome to Emal Outpost, Colonel.”

“Greetings,”
Feran echoed, his voice barely verging on politeness.

“This
is Captain Shalgyr, who is acting as my aide for this tour.” Weslyn nodded to
the almost squat and black-haired officer.

“We’re
pleased to meet you,” Alucius said.

Feran
nodded.

“We
might as well sit down,” Weslyn said.

“The
meal will be here shortly,” Alucius noted, nodding to the cook, who had peered
out from the small kitchen. “I fear it will not be up to the standards of Dekhron.”

“Dekhron
is not up to its own standards lately.” The colonel paused, then went on with a
smile. “I don’t imagine either of you expected to see me in Emal.”

“No,
sir,” Alucius admitted.

“Times
have been difficult, but I hope that we are past the worst of that now, but I
had thought it might be better to discuss matters over a meal, less formally,
if you will.” Weslyn paused as the serving girl, the cook’s daughter, appeared
with two mugs of ale, which, following Alucius’s eyes, she placed in front of
Weslyn and Shalgyr, before departing and immediately returning with two more
mugs. “I do not know that official dispatches could have told you how dangerous
our situation was. The debts incurred by the Council, with interest, had
reached ten thousand golds.”

Feran
swallowed, started to speak, then stopped without a word.

“That
was so great a sum that all the tariff revenues for several years would not
have covered it.”

Alucius
suppressed a frown. From his rough calculations, the annual budget of the militia
was around five thousand golds, and surely there were other expenditures?

“The
Council could not devote all the tariff revenues to repaying or even paying the
interest on that debt. In fact, as we had written you, we did not have the
funds to pay or supply any companies past summer. The lack of rain, and the
probable crop failures to come made matters worse. The coins were originally
borrowed from the Landarch of Deforya, but he needed repayment, and so he sold
the debt to the Lord-Protector.” Weslyn shrugged. “You could see where that
left the Council. There was no choice, and now we must work out the
arrangements.”

The
serving girl delivered a platter of mutton smothered in white gravy, a second
one of lace potatoes, a compote of early apples drizzled in honey, and two
baskets of bread.

Weslyn
served himself before asking, “Does either of you have any questions?”

“We’d
just like to know where that leaves our troopers and us,” Feran said politely.

“I
can understand that. We have all felt that way,” the colonel replied. “I don’t
know that you have heard, but the nomad ruler of Illegea—his name is Aellyan
Edyss—has conquered Ongelya. More important, we have received word that he has
routed the forces of Lustrea near the South Pass and killed the Praetor. While
the Praetor’s son is well respected, and will certainly become the new Praetor,
it is highly unlikely that he will immediately undertake another attack on the
nomads. We understand from the Lord-Protector that Aellyan Edyss is riding to
the northwest. The Landarch of Deforya is greatly concerned that Edyss is
bringing his forces into position to attack Deforya.”

“Why
not Lanachrona?” asked Feran bluntly. “That’s northwest as well.”

“Because
he will gain more by taking both the north and south passes to the east. He
already controls the South Pass to Lustrea. If he takes Dereka, he will hold
both high roads, and both passes. Also, Deforya is an easier target than
Lanachrona.”

“I
don’t quite see how that affects us, or even the Iron Valleys,” Feran stated.

“No,
not directly. But…” Weslyn drew out the word, then smiled. “As I have
explained, the militia is in great debt to the Council and, now, to the
Lord-Protector. The Lord-Protector has agreed, as my earlier dispatch informed
you, to accept the militia as the Northern Guard of Lanachrona. Further, he has
agreed to assume all back pay owed, and to ensure that all stipends will be
paid to troopers and officers alike.”

Alucius
had a cold feeling about where the discussion was headed, but he waited,
listening.

“Because
the southern border of the Iron Valleys will no longer need to be patrolled,
the outposts along the eastern part of the River Vedra will be closed…”

Feran
nodded. “You want us to volunteer to do some dirty work elsewhere to keep our
stipends?”

Weslyn
went on without looking directly at Feran. “The Council had to agree to several
terms as part of the agreement with Lanachrona. As you may know, the
organization of the militia is unique in all of Corus. By comparison, all
equipment and all mounts used by the Southern Guard belong to the
Lord-Protector. That is also true in Madrien and in Lustrea, and even in
Deforya. The Lord-Protector finds himself assuming responsibility for the debts
of the militia, yet there are no…assetsto speak of. In addition, he has pledged
not to station any of the Southern Guard in the Iron Valleys for the next
twenty years. In return for these conditions, he has asked the newly
established Northern Guard to provide four horse companies—under their own
officers, of course—for service with the Southern Guard in defending the
borders of Lanachrona.”

Alucius
repressed a nod.

Feran
snorted.

“We
felt that far less dislocation would be involved if those companies that were
already going to be displaced were among those assigned.” Weslyn smiled at
Alucius. “In addition, the Twenty-first Company has a reputation for
effectiveness, and the Lord-Protector specifically requested that you be among
those companies. Unless, of course, you would choose to buy out your service
time—all four years as a captain, which would be four times the rate of a
herder conscript, since your service is not yet complete.”

Alucius
didn’t have to consider that provision for long. A conscript’s buyout would
have taken half the revenues from the stead for each year. A captain’s buyout
on those terms would destroy the stead. “We will serve as requested.”

“I
had thought you might.” Weslyn turned to Feran. “There are two possibilities
for Fifth Company, Captain. You could be assigned to the outpost to be opened
at Eastice and charged with ensuring that the high road be kept clear of
brigands…and provide border guard service along the northern boundaries with
Madrien, or you could be assigned to accompany Twenty-first Company.”

Feran’s
lips tightened.

“If
Fifth Company went with Twenty-first Company, you would, of course, be under
the command of Overcaptain Alucius. That is, unless you choose to leave the
Northern Guard.” Weslyn took a sip of his ale.

Alucius
concealed a wince. Weslyn was clearly trying to force Feran to leave the
militia.

After
a long moment, Feran presented a smile—a cold smile. “If it’s all the same to
you, Colonel, I think it’s fair to say that Fifth Company and I would prefer to
serve with and under Overcaptain Alucius.”

For
the briefest instant, an expression of surprise flickered across the colonel’s
face before he replied smoothly. “Both the Northern Guard and the
Lord-Protector will be pleased to know that two such experienced companies will
be defending our borders.”

When
had Lanachrona’s borders become “our” borders? Alucius wondered.

As
he cut through the gravy-covered mutton, Weslyn looked at Alucius. “Your
promotion to overcaptain will become effective when you leave Emal two weeks
from yesterday. I will make sure your insignia are dispatched in time.”

“Might
you be able to tell us where we will be defending those borders?” asked
Alucius.

“Oh…I
didn’t mention that, did I? The Lord-Protector is sending a detachment of five
horse companies to support the Landarch of Deforya. Four will be from the
Northern Guard, and one from the Southern Guard. It’s good to know that the
Twenty-first and Fifth Companies will be two of them.”

“How…or
where will we join this detachment?”

“The
detachment commander is a Majer Draspyr, I believe. I have your route here, and
I will leave it, obviously. You will cross the Vedra here and ride south to the
high road and a road outpost there in a place called…what is it…Senelmyr,
that’s it. That’s where you will meet the majer and the other companies. We
brought the new shoulder patches, also. They’re really just blue shimmersilk
triangles, but they go on your tunics so that the Southern Guard can tell who
you are. We can go over the details in the morning, once you’ve had a chance to
think about it.”

“What
about the outpost?” Alucius asked. “Will the militia close it? Or sell it?”

“The
Northern Guard has not decided,” the colonel said slowly. “Certainly, if we can
sell unused assets, to defer costs, that would be prudent.” Abruptly, he smiled
again. “That is not bad fare for such an isolated outpost.” The commandant
glanced at Feran, then Alucius. “Might I ask how you have managed such?”

“As
carefully as we could, sir,” Alucius replied. “Gravy is not terribly expensive,
and allows one the luxury of thinking the meat is less tough than it is, and
the apples are a type that does not travel well, and so they are not
expensive.”

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