Darknesses (36 page)

“…didn’t
do so well, either, until they sent Wyerl and Alyniat west…”

“…some
of the Matrites could fight…heard about one squad that nearly wiped out a whole
company…”

“What
was your experience with the Matrites, Overcaptain?” asked the other
overcaptain at the table.

“Some
fought very well. Their real leaders were usually the senior squad leaders.”
Alucius took a sip of the red wine, also good—and strong.

“They
inflicted heavy casualties on the…militia. We heard that, anyway.”

“That
was at the beginning, when they had the crystal spear-thrower…” Alucius went on
to explain that, ending as the servers brought in small slices of honey-cake.

As
the officers finished the dessert, Captain-Colonel Jesopyr smiled at Alucius.
“You have been most forthcoming, Overcaptain. I hope some of our younger
officers have listened intently. But…do you have any questions…anything where
we might be of service to you?”

“This
is a rather…impressive post,” Alucius said.

“And
you wonder why we’re all rattling around in it?” asked the captain-colonel.

“It
had occurred to me.”

“We
had ten companies here less than a year ago. Marshal Wyerl pulled out nine and
dispatched them to Zalt and Southgate. We’ll be getting a company of recruits
to train next month, and another the month after that. You caught us at our
lowest.”

Truth
rang through the colonel’s words, and that sense of truth disturbed Alucius in
a fashion more than deception might have.

“It’s
taking more troopers than you’d thought in the west, then?”

“Exactly,
and that is one reason why, I would judge, the Lord-Protector wishes to honor
you. We do not have that many companies to spare, and you removed a great
potential threat from the east.”

“It
could have been a great threat to the Iron Valleys as well,” Alucius pointed
out, stifling a yawn.

“That
may be, but we are all grateful—or should be, since there are but a few
handfuls of companies remaining in the east.” The captain-colonel smiled professionally.
“You are tired. That, even I can see.”

“It
has been a long day.”

“We
will see you in the morning.” The captain-colonel stood.

And
with that, Alucius found himself standing and being escorted from the mess, the
other officers following as well. For all the courtesy, and all the supposed
honor involved in the long trip to Tempre, Alucius still would have preferred
to be back on the stead, getting up before dawn and riding all day—and coming
home to Wendra.

Tempre,
Lanachrona

T
he
Lord-Protector stepped
through the door into the private study, closing
it behind him, and smiling at Alerya, who looked up from the desk and the sheet
on which she had been writing.

“How
are you feeling?” he asked.

“As
I have, dear consort.” Alerya sipped from the goblet and replaced it on the
desk. “You have that thoughtful look.”

“I
would like you to read this.” The Lord-Protector handed two sheets of paper to
his consort.

She
took them and read, frowning well before she had finished. “He is making
himself look older than he is? Has someone taken his place? Someone younger?
How has it taken so long to have discovered such?”

“There
were subterfuges…and we had not watched his bathchamber.”

“I
like this not. Are you certain it is Enyll?”

“Of
that I am certain. I have known Enyll since I was a child. His features have
not changed. Nor has his voice. Nor has the way he speaks.”

“Then
he has discovered a way to become younger?” Alerya’s laugh was sharp, almost
bitter. “Fortunate man.”

“Are
you sure you are all right, dearest?”

“I
am not so well suited to being a mother as we had hoped. Or my body is not.
Perhaps you did not pick so well.”

The
Lord-Protector slipped behind her chair, then bent and slipped his arms around
her, gently. “I prefer the lady I picked, and nothing will change that.”

“I
am glad.” For a moment, she leaned her head back against him. “There is more, I
fear.”

“There
is. He has changed his view of the herder overcaptain. Now he is pleased that
Overcaptain Alucius is on his way to Tempre. He is almost excited that it is
so, and before he was most fretful.”

“Fretful?
As I recall, he was angry and spoke most sharply to you.” Alerya tried to
conceal a burp. “Would that food would rest more easily in me.”

“That
will pass, they say.”

Alerya
shook her head. “A most terrible word play, Talryn. Most terrible.” She took
the smallest of sips from the goblet. “Do you think it a mistake that you
ordered this Alucius here?”

“I
think not, but men do not change long-held views without reason.”

“Men
seldom change views, long-held or otherwise. That is why I asked if the
Recorder were truly Enyll.”

“I
would swear that it is Enyll.”

“Could
it be the Table?”

“There
is no record of any such, and I have searched the private archives.”

“Have
any spent the time at the Table that he does?”

“He
is the first true Recorder in generations.” The Lord-Protector sighed. “And now
I must watch every action and every word with him.”

“As
you must with everyone.”

“Except
for you, for which I am most grateful.” The Lord-Protector squeezed her shoulders.
His eyes went to the goblet on the desk, the level of the liquid scarcely
diminished, and his eyes darkened.

S
lightly
before noon on Septi,
Alucius and third squad turned off the lower
east–west high road and onto the shorter stretch that ran northwest to Tempre
and the River Vedra. With each vingt that they rode, the land became ever so
slightly more hilly, with fewer tilled fields and more orchards. The orchards
were of apples and pears, not almonds. Alucius also saw more flocks of what he
would have called town sheep, the white-and-gray fleeced animals that bore the
rougher and weaker wool, and whose flesh was edible, unlike that of nightsheep.

A
quarter glass after passing an oblong stone set beside the high road indicating
five vingts to Tempre, Alucius saw Makyr riding back down from a long and low
incline in the high road.

“There’s
something ahead,” Alucius told Faisyn.

“Another
honor guard, sir.”

“You
think so?”

“Yes,
sir. Seems to me that the Lord-Protector has ways of knowing things before the
rest of us. Might be why we’re now part of Lanachrona.”

“That
could be.”

Before
long, Makyr was less than twenty yards away.

“Sir!”
the scout called. “There’s a squad of Southern Guards headed this way, sir.
Captain, he’s leading ’em. Says they’re to escort us to the Southern Guard
headquarters.”

“That’s
where we’re supposed to go. We’ll keep riding until we meet them. Just fall in
behind Faisyn and me.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Alucius
and Wildebeast had almost reached the top of the incline in the high road, so
gentle that it had taken several vingts to climb less than fifty yards. Given
what he had seen in the Upper Spine Mountains, Alucius wondered why the ancient
builders had not just cut through the large and gradual ridge, but he supposed
there were all too many matters like that, and a man could spend his whole life
puzzling over such without ever learning the reasons.

Drawn
up in the turnout at the top of the incline were Waris, the Southern Guard
captain, and a squad of Southern Guard in very crisp blue-and-cream uniforms.
The captain rode forward.

“Squad,
halt!” Alucius ordered.

“Overcaptain
Alucius, sir?”

“Yes,
Captain. With the third squad of Twenty-first Company. Reporting as ordered by
Marshal Wyerl.”

“Sir.”
The officer stiffened. “Welcome to Tempre. Captain Gueryl and the honor squad
at your service.”

“Thank
you, Captain. I imagine you’ll take us where we’re supposed to go.”

“Yes,
sir.”

“Would
you join me?”

“Yes,
sir.” The captain nodded to a squad leader. “Lead the way, Byryn.”

The
honor squad swung out of the ancient enternastone turnout and headed down the
almost imperceptible slope toward the city. Faisyn held his place as Alucius
eased Wildebeast forward, and the captain eased in on Alucius’s right side.
Unlike the other Southern Guards Alucius had seen, both the captain and the
troopers wore blue shoulder braid.

“You
got here sooner than we had thought, sir,” Gueryl offered. “We had intended to
meet you where the high roads split.”

“You
found us early enough,” Alucius said. “How long to headquarters…or wherever
we’re being quartered?”

“Headquarters,
sir. Less than a glass.”

From
the rise in the road, Alucius could see Tempre spread out in all directions.
The upper part of the wide low ridge that they had just crossed on the high
road contained no steads and no dwellings, as if for a vingt or so on each side
of the flat crest any building had been forbidden. The unsettled space included
open meadows and stands of hard-wood and softwood, but neither walls nor
fences, nor any evergreens. Alucius wondered about the lack of evergreens.

The
first steads below the open space contained neat dwellings on small patches of
ground, some of them as little as two hundred yards on a side, although most
were larger, and all had at least some fruit trees, even some small orchards.
The grass everywhere was still green, as were the leaves on all the fruit-laden
trees. The high road descended ever so gently toward the river and a pair of
twin green towers.

“Is
that the Lord-Protector’s palace?” Alucius asked Captain Gueryl. “Where the
towers are?”

“No,
sir.” Gueryl laughed. “Most who see Tempre for the first time think so, but the
towers date to before the Cataclysm, and they flank the Grand Piers on the
river.”

“The
piers are eternastone, then.”

“Yes,
sir. How did you know?” Gueryl asked.

“The
towers. We have one of those in Iron Stem. There is a pair in Dereka. Tempre
was a trading center in the days of the Duarachy. The Grand Piers were probably
the reason why Tempre was important then. I’d wager that most trade went by the
river down to Faitel and Elcien.” Alucius offered a laugh. “I don’t know,
though. Do you?”

Gueryl
was silent for a moment. “I hadn’t thought about it. Most long-distance trade
these days goes by the high road to Southgate or east to Lustrea.”

“Is
there more trade now that Lanachrona holds Southgate?”

“Quite
a bit, they say.”

Looking
down the high road through the space between the towers, Alucius could see
that, across the River Vedra, beyond the smooth dark waters, rose the
southernmost part of the Westerhills, but unlike the northern Westerhills,
where the trees were junipers and pines spread widely on rocky and sandy
ground, the trees north of Tempre were mixed pine and softwoods, and formed a
near-continuous canopy of foliage.

On
the river itself were barges headed downriver, and sailing craft headed
upriver, the sails augmented on at least one craft by a bank of oarsmen.
Alucius couldn’t help but think of the ancient ship in the mural, speeding
across vast oceans without sails or rowers.

Before
long, the steads flanking the road were replaced by more of the yellow brick
dwellings on smaller plots of land, and by occasional groupings of shops. All
appeared neat, well maintained, and cleaned.

“The
dwellings here are well kept,” Alucius said.

“Yes,
sir. The Lord-Protector places a tariff on any dwelling not kept in good
repair.”

Ahead,
on the right side of the high road, was a far larger dwelling, more like an
ancient mansion of greenish white marble, except that the stonework was crisp
and new. Long and low stables were set on each side of the three-story
structure, which boasted arches and large windows above a circular portico
where two retainers in green livery waited. A low wall surrounded the property,
and two guards, also in green, flanked the open gate.

Alucius
looked again at the structure—one that looked more like a small palace—and out
of place amid the more modest shops and dwellings. “Who owns that?”

The
young captain did not respond, and Alucius could sense his reluctance.

“Captain?”

“That’s
the dust palace. Drimeer owns it.”

“And
those who are wealthy pay golds for the slightest sniff of the dreamdust? And
this Drimeer gets more and more golds?”

Gueryl
nodded, curtly. “What do you know about dreamdust?”

“That
it ruins people.” Alucius wasn’t about to mention that Iron Stem was one of its
sources.

“More
than that.”

“How
did this Drimeer…?”

“He
bought up ten or twelve dwellings and built this…” Gueryl gestured to the
mansion as they rode past the gates. “He obeys all the laws and keeps it in
good repair. If the Lord-Protector did anything against him…all the merchants
would fear that the laws would mean nothing.”

Alucius
nodded. He also suspected that the dreamdust mansion was a good way to show
that the Lord-Protector respected those laws.

“We’ll
be turning shortly, onto the Avenue of the Guard. It’s east of the Avenue of
the Palace, but both avenues run north from the high road.” Gueryl pointed to
his right. “You can see the square towers of the palace there.”

Alucius
followed his gesture and took in the yellow-cream stone structure.

“To
the right—the long lower structure behind the park? That’s the main building of
Guard headquarters. The senior officers’ quarters and the meeting rooms and
spaces for the senior officers are there. That’s where you’ll be quartered,
sir. Then the regular officers’ quarters, and the stables and barracks are
behind across the rear courtyard.”

Immediately
after the column turned onto the first avenue, a Southern Guard rider pulled
away from the honor squad preceding Alucius and first squad and hastened down
the avenue.

Before
Alucius could say anything, Captain Gueryl spoke quickly. “Marshal Alyniat had
indicated that he wanted to greet you when you arrived, sir. That is quite an
honor. He is second only to the arms-commander.”

The
honors he was supposedly receiving were making Alucius more than a little
nervous, and he shifted his weight in the saddle as they neared the gray
granite walls of the headquarters, modest in size against the low hills
directly behind the buildings. Once more, he noted that the low hill behind the
headquarters, more like a ridge that ran westward toward the river and toward
the palace of the Lord-Protector, held no structures or walls or fences within
a half vingt or so of the crest.

Alucius
half expected trumpets as they rode through the gates to the Southern Guard
headquarters, but the four guards flanking the gateposts, for there were no
actual gates, barely gave the column of riders a glance. That was more what
Alucius would have expected for a mere overcaptain in a land where even
colonels were common.

The
main building was a good four stories in height, and its clean gray marble walls
loomed over the smooth granite paving stones that covered most of the space
inside the walls—except for the small walled garden set forward of the
squared-off portico that was the main entrance. There were two handsome
carriages drawn up short of the mounting blocks at the portico, clearly waiting
for someone of importance, and the first carriages of such workmanship that
Alucius had ever seen. Only wagons were used in Iron Stem.

The
honor squad led the way around the east side of the main headquarters building
and into the expansive paved rear courtyard. The rear courtyard had been cut
out of the hillside, with the stables to the right, and barracks and quarters
behind, but forward of a stone wall that rose almost fifteen yards. The effect
was to conceal—or minimize—the extent of the buildings as seen from outside the
walls.

The
Southern Guard squad turned to the left again, heading toward a smaller rear
entrance, smaller only in comparison to the impressive nature of the one in
front, but almost as large as that of the Landarch’s palace in Dereka. Alucius
could see several figures in Southern Guard uniforms standing on the steps
above the mounting blocks.

“Is
that Marshal Alyniat?” Alucius asked quietly.

“I
think so, sir. I’ve never seen him close, but it looks like him. I know it’s
not Marshal Wyerl, and there aren’t any other marshals in Tempre now.”

The
honor squad rode past the steps, leaving space for Alucius to rein up opposite
the marshal and a small set of personal guards—and a majer and a colonel of
some sort. Alucius reined up, and inclined his head. “Marshal.”

“Overcaptain
Alucius. Welcome to Tempre and to headquarters. I wanted to greet you
personally. It is not often that one has a chance to meet an officer who has
triumphed against such overwhelming forces.”

“Our
success came from the sacrifices of troopers and officers who fought valiantly,
knowing that they faced both Talent-creatures and vast numbers. We would not be
here without their efforts.”

“That
is certainly so.” Alyniat smiled. “But never in any history that I have read
has a junior overcaptain commanded so brilliantly and fearlessly. I must ask,
tactless as it may be, if it is true that your uniform was burned off you, and
that every span of your body was so bruised that your skin was purple from head
to toe?”

Alucius
smiled in return, understanding full well the reason for the question. “So I
was told, sir, but since it was sometime after the last battle before I was
able to look at myself, I could not personally confirm that. I can attest to
the fact that all my hair was burned off. It is still rather short.”

Alyniat
laughed. “Marshal Wyerl sends his best as well, and we look forward to dining
with you this evening. Again…on behalf of the Lord-Protector, I welcome you all
to Tempre.” He nodded, clearly ending the unofficial ceremony.

Alucius
bowed from the saddle. “We thank you, and the Lord-Protector, and are pleased
that we have been of service.” Then he waited to see what would happen.

“Forward.”

The
honor squad moved from the portico, and Alucius and third squad followed.

“You
must have truly impressed the arms-commander,” Gueryl said.

“It
may just have been that we’re the first unit of the Northern Guard to visit
Tempre and headquarters,” Alucius suggested.

“That
could be,” Gueryl said amiably.

Although
Alucius sensed the other’s doubt, he was glad that Gueryl did not say more.

Outside
the stables, once both squads had halted, Gueryl gestured, and the senior squad
leader from the honor squad joined them. Alucius turned Wildebeast so that
Faisyn was included.

“Byryn
here will work with your squad leader…”

“Faisyn,”
Alucius supplied, nodding to the third squad leader.

“To
make sure that your troopers and mounts are quartered and well taken care of,”
Gueryl concluded.

When
Alucius had finished with Wildebeast, the two officers left the stables. The
walk back to the main building was almost half a vingt—or so Alucius felt. He
still carried both rifles, but the captain made no comment.