Scepters (25 page)

The
walls seemed to have shifted, and Alucius glanced around. There was no one but
him in the chamber, and there were no wall hangings. He realized that he had
not seen a doorway, and he turned to look behind him. There was no entrance
there, either.

How
had he gotten into the chamber? He did not see a Table anywhere.

Again,
there was the sense that the walls had shifted, and Alucius tried to figure out
what had happened. He studied the chamber. It was smaller—now only eight yards
in length and four wide.

He
took two steps forward and looked back. Nothing had changed, and there were
still no doors anywhere.

The
walls shifted once more, and now the chamber was but five by two and a half
yards, and the ceiling was less than four yards above him.

He
reached out and touched the marble of the wall, cold, but not freezing. As he
withdrew his hand, the walls shifted once more, then again almost immediately,
so that he was standing in a chamber smaller than a cell, surrounded by hard
stone less than a yard away.

He
tried to reach out with his Talent, to find a way out, but he could sense
nothing but stone, hard stone.

The
walls shifted again, so that he had to turn sideways. Sweat poured down his
forehead. He had to get out… somehow. He had to—

Alucius
bolted upright in the wide bed in the senior officers’ quarters. The sudden
movement sent twinges through his aching body. Sweat was indeed streaming from
his face and chest. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood
slowly. He walked to the window, looking out into the darkness, but he still
felt closed in. So he turned and made his way to the door. He opened it wide
and stepped out into the darkness, breathing the cool air deeply.

After
several moments, he finally turned and stepped back into the quarters, closing
the door gently. He walked slowly back to the bed, where he lowered himself to
sit on the edge, all too aware that many of his bruises had a ways to go before
they stopped aching. As he sat on the edge of the bed, he used the back of his
hand to blot the cooling sweat from his forehead.

He’d
never had a dream quite like that, with the walls closing in on him, but he had
to admit that in some ways, that had been how he’d felt in having to agree to
the Lord-Protector’s “request.”

After
a time, he stood and walked around the room, still trying to cool off, still
wondering what else lay behind the walled-in feeling.

The
three companies left Krost Post promptly after breakfast on Londi morning, even
before the post’s muster. By then, most of Alucius’s bruises had turned vivid
shades of yellow and purple, and while the worst of the aching had subsided, he
was still stiff. He hadn’t had another wall dream, for which he was thankful,
and he’d written out a simple command structure and selected his three lancer
messengers. He’d studied the maps of the Hyalt area and made some initial
plans. He’d also sent off another letter to Wendra, and he could only hope that
all was going well on the stead. His wristguard showed that she was healthy,
and that was good. After his meeting with the marshal, he’d also managed to
obtain not only the supplies, but also a large amount of blasting powder—and
the wagons and teams to carry them.

Because
he also had decided to spend part of each day riding with each of the company
commanders, he was riding at the head of Twenty-eighth Company with Deotyr, at
the front of the column on the high road that ran all the way to the coast in
Madrien. They would turn southward in something less than a week, onto the high
road to Hyalt, days before they could have reached the Coast Range, let alone
Madrien.

The
midharvest sky was hazy, without actual clouds, and windless, making the
morning seem warmer and dustier than it was. Still, one advantage of the
eternastone roads was that there was far less dust raised, and that meant the
company bringing up the rear didn’t have to breathe nearly so much dust and
grit as on the back roads.

“Captain…”
Alucius began, once they were settled into an easy riding rhythm, “I haven’t
had much of a chance to talk to you and Captain Jultyr. I was wondering. Where
are you from?”

“Cersonna,
sir.”

“I’m
not that familiar with many of the places in Lanachrona beyond Tempre, Krost,
and those along the River Vedra. Where is Cersonna?”

“It’s
on the high road to Indyor, just east of where the road crosses the Vyana,” replied
the young dark-haired captain. “There’s not much there, except for cattle and
grasslands.”

“How
did you come to join the Southern Guard, then?”

“When
you come from a cattle-running family, and you’re the youngest of five, your
choices aren’t what they might be elsewhere.”

Alucius
nodded. “You can’t split lands and a herd that many ways.”

“The
lands mostly. We’re not as dry as places like Soupat or Hyalt, from what they
say. A square will only graze so many head. That’s over time, but if you
overgraze one year, unless you’re lucky to get a monsoon winter, you’ll have to
sell off part of the herd the next, or they’ll all lose weight, maybe starve.”
Deotyr paused. “You’re a herder, though. Isn’t it the same for nightsheep?”

“They
graze quarasote, not grass, but it’s like that in a way. If they don’t get the
better quarasote, their wool isn’t as strong, and that cuts its value, but it
doesn’t cut the processing costs. They probably won’t starve, but the herder
running them might.” After a moment, he asked, “What’s the biggest danger to
your cattle? On the steads, we’re always on the lookout for sandwolves and
sanders, but I’ve heard that there aren’t many south of the Vedra.”

“No,
sir. The snakes get a few, but grassdogs are the problem. They run in packs,
and they can take down a straggler in moments…”

Alucius
listened, letting Deotyr enlighten him on the details of cattle-running in
eastern Lanachrona.

In
time, the junior officer looked at Alucius. “Sir… they say that you’ve been in
battles all over Corus and wounded many times…”

“And
you want to know if it’s true—or how much is true?” Alucius smiled. “I started
out as a scout in the Iron Valley Militia…” He tried to summarize the campaigns
and the wounds quickly. “… I guess that makes something like three times where
I wasn’t expected to live and three other times where I had minor wounds. I’ve
been in fights in every land west of the Spine of Corus except Ongelya.”
Alucius didn’t include the fourth severe injury, where the soarer had nursed
him back to health, or his times in Lustrea, fighting the ifrit engineer.

Deotyr
was silent, so silent that the loudest sound was that of hoofs on the
eternastone road.

Alucius
decided not to push. He had almost two weeks of riding before they reached
Hyalt.

After
a time, the young captain cleared his throat. “Sir… what can we expect in
Hyalt?”

“Trouble,”
Alucius said with an ironic laugh. “The kind that always happens when people
think they’re so right that they can’t believe that anyone else could be right
or be better at what they do.” He waited a moment before he added. “Like Majer
Fedosyr.”

“Majer
Fedosyr? Sir…”

“That
seems so unlike a revolt? It’s an example. The Northern Guard fought Lanachrona
to a standstill twice. That’s history. The Iron Valleys agreed to union with
Lanachrona not because they were defeated in battle, but because they had no
golds left to pay the militia or to purchase supplies. Because Lanachrona took
over the Iron Valleys, the majer wanted to believe that the Northern Guard was
somehow deficient in its training and arms skills. He could not force himself
to acknowledge that it was otherwise. Because he could not, he broke every rule
for a demonstration match. He even threw acid-dust at my face. People who can’t
judge their beliefs against what happens in the world around them, who cannot
see what is… they’re much like Majer Fedosyr. The True Duarchists believe that
a duarchy that has not ruled in thousands of years will provide a better life
for them than the Lord-Protector. Yet the Lord-Protector is one of the more
enlightened and intelligent rulers in Corus. One only has to ride through other
lands to see this. But the True Duarchists have yet to see this, and it is most
unlikely that they will.”

“I
thought folk in the Iron Valleys don’t care much for the Lord-Protector.”

“Most
probably don’t, but they haven’t seen the alternatives. There are problems in
Lanachrona. There are problems everywhere, but there seem to be far fewer here
than in other lands. That’s one reason why we’ll need to be very cautious in
approaching Hyalt.”

“Because
you don’t think there should have been a revolt?”

“From
the few reports we have, it isn’t really a revolt. It’s more like a local
invasion by the True Duarchists. Most of the local people had to flee, but no
one else has since then. That suggests either a number of armed rebels or local
support—or both. The duarchists had rifles and blades and the training to use
them. They struck at a time designed to take the local garrison by surprise.
That doesn’t sound like discontented subjects so much as someone trying to make
it seem like a revolt.”

“Who
would… the Regent of the Matrial, you think?”

“That’s
the most likely possibility, but we won’t know until we can scout out the
situation.” Alucius didn’t want to mention the missing scouts. Not yet.

“How
do you… what do you plan?”

“To
do what they don’t expect, where they do not expect it, and in ways that they
don’t.”

“That
sounds… difficult, sir.”

“It
will be. It’s better than the other approaches. They’re impossible.”

“Can
you give us some idea… ?”

“We
won’t be riding in on the high road, not for the last twenty vingts or so. We’re
also going to try to create doubt about the abilities of the duarchists. All
kinds of doubt. If we do, that will make our job much easier.” Alucius smiled
politely. “I’ll be going over the details with all of the officers together as
we get closer to Hyalt, and some of the training exercises we’ll be doing along
the way are designed to work with the tactics we’ll be using.”

Deotyr
nodded slowly, as if at least some of what Alucius said were new to him and
needed further consideration.

That
was what Alucius wanted. He shifted his weight in the saddle, a saddle that
would get harder than he liked before they arrived near Hyalt, and reached for
his water bottle. Early in the day as it still was, it was hotter than he would
have liked. Then again, everywhere south of Dekhron was warmer than he
preferred.

On
Tridi midafternoon, Alucius was riding at the head of Thirty-fifth Company with
Captain Jultyr. The fields on both sides of the road, beyond the wooden rail
fences, held growers and their hands and families, all of whom were involved in
harvesting a range of crops—from maize to some sort of beans, and a type of
oilseed. They were busy enough that only a handful of youngsters even bothered
to look at the passing lancers.

“You’ve
seen quite a bit in your time with the Guard,” Alucius said. “You came up
through the ranks.”

“Yes,
sir.” Jultyr did not quite look at Alucius, as seemed to be the case on most of
the occasions when Alucius had ridden with the older captain.

“How
long did you serve with the forces against the Matrites?”

“About
four years, sir.”

“What
did you think of their abilities?”

There
was a pause before Jultyr spoke. “Some were good. A company here or there was
real good. Most weren’t as good as we were.”

“You
have any thoughts on why that might be?” Alucius found himself waiting and
forcing himself to be patient while Jultyr considered his answer.

“Couldn’t
say for sure, sir, but they seemed to do better on the squad level. Thought
they had better squad leaders than officers. Some of their auxiliary companies
were good, too.” Jultyr looked to Alucius. “You think that might be so?”

“They
don’t have any officers who are men. So the highest a good man can go is senior
squad leader. Some of those I knew were very good. Their officers… a handful
were good, but the best ones were more likely to get killed. Their strategy was
generally better than either that of the Northern or Southern Guard, but their
tactics and battlefield leadership weren’t so good.”

“You
think we have better officers and better tactics… they have better squad
leaders and strategy?” questioned Jultyr.

“Overall…
probably. Both have officers who are good, and both have officers not so good,
though. We know that’s true in any fighting force.”

Jultyr
nodded.

“According
to your record,” Alucius said, “the Guard promoted you from senior squad leader
to captain directly. That’s not done often, I know.”

“It
happens, sir.”

“I
know.” Alucius laughed. “I didn’t expect it when it happened tome.”

“Suppose
I had hoped,” Jultyr said after a silence. “Never think it will happen to you.
Doesn’t happen often in the Southern Guard.”

“It
doesn’t happen that often in the Northern Guard, either. overcaptain Feran and
I are about the only two officers who are still serving that I know who came up
that way.”

“The
overcaptain said you’d faced down the deputy commander of the Northern Guard
for your men. Stood alone in front of a whole company.”

Alucius
wondered where Feran had learned that, since it was something Alucius had never
mentioned to anyone outside his family. “Just did what I thought was right.”

Jultyr
nodded. Another silence followed.

Alucius
glanced back at the four supply wagons that followed the lancers, thinking
about his conversation with Marshal Frynkel about the wagons. He wondered if he
shouldn’t have pressed for even more supplies.