Scepters (21 page)

Hieron, Madrien

The
Regent stood between the conference table and the wide windows that displayed
the southern part of Hieron as well as the southern quarter of the Park of the
Matrial. Her violet eyes followed the east range high road southward to the
point where it vanished into the harvest haze. Then she turned to the marshal. “You
say that the second crystal spear-thrower should have reached the forces moving
south from Dimor?”

“Yes,
Regent,” replied Marshal Aluyn. “Unless something unusual has occurred, they should
be ready to begin the assault.”

“I
would not like that.”

“Nor
would we, Regent. But the Lord-Protector cannot bring any more lancers into the
south.”

“Cannot
or will not?” asked the Regent.

“If
he does, he risks losing the north more quickly or even his own south. If the
revolt in Hyalt spreads to Syan, Soupat will be cut off, and that will limit
the lead available to the Lanachronans, both for their bullets and their
crystal trade.”

“How
are your efforts proceeding in that?”

“There
are more weapons being shipped into Hyalt along the old Coast Range trails, and
the revolt there continues to grow.”

The
Regent nodded, then asked, “And the torques? How many have werepowered?”

“We
have concentrated on repowering those of former captives and those in and around
Hieron.”

“How
many, Aluyn?”

“Less
than a quarter. It takes time. We only have a few truly Talented officers. The
new crystal is not as strong, not yet. We dare not send any recently trained
captive lancers too far from places where we have Talent-officers.”

“The
crystal grows more powerful with each day.”

“The
Talent-officers have noted that, but you ordered us to concentrate on retaking
the south.”

“I
did. That I did.” The Regent nodded. “You may go. Let me know when we have word
on our progress.”

The
marshal bowed. “Yes, Regent.”

After
the conference room door closed behind the departing marshal, the Regent turned
back to the windows. She looked southward in the golden light of the time just
before sunset. Her fingers touched, briefly, the dark green emeralds of the
choker. The gems flared deep within at her touch, and her smile hardened.

Sexdi
morning, immediately after breakfast and morning muster, found Alurius in
Captain-colonel Jorynst’s study along with Marshal Frynkel. The three sat around
a circular conference table in one corner of the study, a corner flanked by two
man-high bookcases filled with leather-bound volumes. As he shifted his weight
in the wooden armchair, Alucius couldn’t help but notice that all the volumes
were dusty, as were the bookshelves themselves.

“The
marshal was telling me that you were attacked by strange creatures on the road
south to Krost,” offered the colonel. “Never heard of such a thing.” He looked
directly at Alucius.

“It
was a surprise to us,” Alucius replied. “I’ve never heard of anyone being
attacked on a road like that. Not in the middle of Lanachrona, certainly. “

“It
happened to you and not to anyone else,” said the colonel. “You were not
terribly successful in protecting the Eighth Company, successful as you may
have been with your own lancers. Command is not about protecting just one part
of a force; it requires one to handle all the companies as one.”

“That
is true, Colonel,” Alucius replied as politely as he could, despite the growing
rage seething within him. What business did Jorynst have in chastising him? “At
that time, I was only in command of Fifth Company, and I did not receive any
orders from Marshal Frynkel.”

“Shouldn’t
need orders for that. Your job was to protect the marshal.”

Alucius
debated for a moment, deciding whether to point out that he was not and had
never been under the colonel’s command. He decided against doing so and said
calmly, “That was what we did. We stayed and fought the beasts. We killed them
all, and that way none of them reached the marshal.”

“You
didn’t do that much for the fourth and fifth squads of Eighth Company, now, did
you?”

Alucius
could not figure out why the colonel was attacking him—and why the marshal was
allowing it—except that it was clear Frynkel had always had his own agenda.
Alucius tried again, keeping his voice level. “We did the best we could, sir,
and we did keep the other Eighth Company squads from taking casualties.”

“That
still left some thirty dead and wounded—almost a third of Eighth Company.”

From
what Alucius could sense, the colonel was angry, but Alucius couldn’t figure
out why. Jorynst hadn’t been there. Eighth Company did not belong to Krost
Post, but was stationed out of Tempre, according to the marshal. So Alucius
just waited, without saying more.

“Your
pardon, Marshal,” offered Jorynst, nodding to Frynkel and turning back to
Alucius, “but many strange things have happened around you, Majer, and you have
an extremely high rate of casualties. I will do as ordered and place the
Twenty-eighth and Thirty-fifth Companies under your command, but I cannot say
that I am pleased. I am not pleased at all, and I cannot understand why this
step is necessary. But I am a faithful officer and will do as directed.”

Deciding
that the abuse had gone far enough, Alucius forced a polite smile. “Then,
Colonel, we feel exactly the same way. The last Southern Guard officer under
whom I served managed to lose almost his entire company to the last man, and I
was forced to watch as tactics I thought were unsuitable were employed. I
managed to defeat an enemy that outnumbered our forces by close to ten to one.
It is true that we suffered casualties in the range of thirty to forty percent,
but that was far better than Majer Draspyr’s ninety-eight percent. I am here at
the request of the Lord-Protector. I did not ask to be here, and I did not ask
to be sent to put down an internal domestic revolt in Lanachrona, a revolt with
which the Iron Valleys have no connection. Because I, too, am a good and
faithful officer, as always, I will do my very best. In the past, it’s been far
better than the Southern Guard has managed.”

Jorynst’s
eyes almost bulged out, and he opened his mouth, then closed it. Finally, he
spoke. “You… that is… insubordination…”

“Yes,
sir,” Alucius replied. “If telling the facts as they are constitutes
insubordination, then I am insubordinate.”

“I
cannot believe that you—” began Jorynst.

“Colonel…”
Marshal Frynkel said, firmly. “Majer Alucius is a Northern Guard officer. His
record is impeccable. He is the only man in the history of Corus to receive the
highest decorations from Deforya, Lanachrona, and the Iron Valleys
simultaneously. He is also the only officer ever to engineer an escape from
Madrien and, with less than a company of half-trained recruits, defeat between
four and six experienced companies. He prefers the truth in a less varnished
fashion and speaks more directly than the subordinates to whom you are
accustomed. You may note that he replied most courteously and politely in his
manner of speech time after time, when you were the one who was abusive. You
took offense to what he said, and to the substance of what he said, I fear
there is no rebuttal.” Frynkel smiled coldly and turned to Alucius. “What are
your training plans, Majer?”

“Do
they need any more training?” asked Jorynst. “The Twenty-eighth and
Thirty-fifth Companies have been preparing since we received word from the
arms-commander.”

Alucius
couldn’t believe that the colonel was still objecting. Was he that stubborn? Or
was he just trying to set up Alucius? “We’ll need at least several days to work
with them and to assess—”

“They’re
good lancers—” said Jorynst.

“I’m
certain that they are,” the marshal interjected, “but the majer needs to work
with them to make sure that the command structure works and to know how they do
what they do, and they need to know how the Northern Guards do what they do.”

“I
suppose that’s true…” The colonel’s words were grudging.

“Colonel,”
Frynkel said almost amiably, “Majer Alucius understands his task. We should let
him get on with it. There are a few matters that we need to discuss.” Frynkel
looked at Alucius. “If you wouldn’t mind, Majer.” After the briefest pause, he
extended a folder. “Here are the rosters and squad assignments for your new
companies. Your command begins as of now.”

“Yes,
sir.” Alucius didn’t mention that Feran had probably already established that
command. He stood. “By your leave, Marshal?” He did not look at Jorynst.

“You
have my leave, Majer.”

Alucius
left, closing the door behind him. He paused, but heard nothing, then stepped
past the ranker seated at the desk in the anteroom. He wished he knew exactly
what game the marshal was playing, but by the end of the meeting it had been
clear to Alucius that the marshal had used Alucius against the colonel and had
been quietly pleased. Alucius didn’t like being used that way, but there was
little he could do until he knew more.

He
made his way to the armory, where he arranged for three hundred rattan blades
to be ready on the following morning. Then he hurried to the stable, where the
gray was waiting, already saddled. He took several moments to study the
rosters, and then slipped them inside his tunic before leading the gelding out
and mounting.

The
post seemed quiet as he rode out past the sentries, who barely acknowledged his
departure. Feran and the two Southern Guard captains were waiting for him at
the edge of the flat dusty maneuver field to the west of the wall of Krost
Post.

“Overcaptain,
captains… I apologize, but the marshal had a few matters to discuss.” Alucius
offered a smile he did not feel. “I’m Majer Alucius, and I see that you’ve met
your deputy commander, Overcaptain Feran.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Alucius
studied the two captains. One was dark-haired and painfully young. The other
was at least ten years older, with a rugged face, shortcut blond hair, and a
thin red scar across his forehead. Alucius looked at the older captain. “You’re
Jultyr?”

“Yes,
sir.”

“Were
you in one of the companies that patrolled the Coast Range against the Matrial?”

“Yes,
sir.”

Alucius
could detect the faintest puzzlement in the captain’s response, but continued, “Did
you ever wonder why the Matrites never sent out patrols of less than what
seemed to be a half squad?”

“I
hadn’t thought about it, sir.”

“We’ll
talk about that sometime, Captain.” Alucius offered a smile as he projected a
hint of warmth and trustworthiness at Jultyr. Then he turned to the second
captain. “Captain Deotyr?”

“Yes,
sir.”

“How
long have you been in service?”

“Just
a year, sir.”

“Good,”
Alucius said ambiguously. “I understand you two have been working your
companies hard. I also suspect that neither of you is thrilled to be assigned
to a command where you know little or nothing about your commanding officer.
Has anyone briefed you on our mission?”

There
was a flicker of eye contact between the two captains. Jultyr’s jaw tightened,
and he said nothing.

After
a silence, Deotyr spoke. “We heard that we might have to do something about the
revolt in Hyalt.”

“That’s
correct. Contrary to what may have been passed around,” Alucius said easily, “I’m
not interested in putting down a revolt by killing large numbers of people.
That’s a very last resort. Dead people don’t produce goods. They don’t pay
tariffs, and their friends and relatives have even more reasons to revolt and
try to kill lancers. That said, I won’t hesitate to use force, if necessary,
but I’d prefer other tactics first.”

“Other
tactics, sir?” blurted Deotyr.

“We’ll
discuss those later. We’ll have plenty of time on the ride to Hyalt. This
morning, we’re going to go through some exercises to see just how your lancers
operate and how good they are at what. This afternoon, we’ll be adding some
squad and company maneuvers and formations that are not used widely in the
Southern Guard but that will have some application in Hyalt. Then, tomorrow, we’ll
begin some squad-on-squad drills against Fifth Company. Fifth Company is a very
experienced outfit, and we can’t afford any serious casualties. So… for any
contact drills, I’ve arranged for rattan wands. You’ll pick those up from the
armory tomorrow after muster.”

“Rattan?”
blurted Deotyr.

“Captain,”
Alucius replied patiently. “We have to integrate tactics, techniques, and
maneuvers. While basic mounted commands are similar from force to force, they are
not identical, and tactics vary widely. There’s a great possibility for
miscommunication to begin with, and miscommunication with edged weapons is not
desirable. Neither is conducting evaluation exercises and blade training
without using weapons.” Yes, sir.

“For
this morning’s maneuvers, I’ll go with Captain Deotyr and Twenty-eighth
Company.” Alucius looked at Deotyr directly. “I’ll give you the commands I want
you to order. That will let me see how your company operates. Overcaptain Feran
will do the same with Captain Jultyr and Thirty-fifth Company. Now… if you’d
return to your companies and brief your squad leaders.”

Alucius
remained on the gray beside Feran, using his Talent to boost his listening as
the two captains rode back to their ranked companies.

“Rattan…”
murmured Deotyr. “Don’t believe it…”

So
far as Alucius could tell, Jultyr said nothing. After a moment, Alucius looked
to Feran.

“Jultyr
has an idea of what’s coming,” Feran said. “The other one…” He shook his head.

“I
know,” Alucius said. “I know.”

Once
he was sure that Deotyr had had time to brief his squad leaders, he rode toward
Twenty-eighth Company.