Scepters (43 page)

“I
don’t know, but it’s worth looking into, and I really didn’t want to say much.
If the acting council has some golds, they can buy some food.”

“You
wouldn’t send it to the Lord-Protector?”

“Why?
What good would that do? If we find anything, we’ll dole some of it out to the
most needy families who are left. Not that the coins won’t end up in certain
pockets before long…” Alucius snorted. “But it does more good spread around. If
we can find anything.”

“If
you find much, some of the men would think they should have some.”

“I’m
sure they would,” Alucius replied.

“You
don’t think so?”

“We’ll
worry about that if we find anything. I’m hoping we can at least find some
supplies, perhaps some ammunition or some flour or dried or salted meat. That’s
always useful.”

“You’d
give that away, too?”

Alucius
shook his head. “Lancers have a right to eat. They deserve that.”

“Aren’t
you splitting hairs?”

The
majer laughed. “You really think that there’s a huge treasure out here, don’t
you?”

“I
could hope,” Feran replied good-naturedly.

“Let’s
see.” Alucius had his doubts, but there had to be
something
.

They
rode past the barracks and past the small building where Feran had placed
Alucius after the explosion and toward the ruined hillside. Alucius reined up
the gray almost at the base of the rubble of irregular chunks of sandstone and
redstone.

As
the lancers in fourth squad unloaded the gear from the wagon, Alucius studied
the rubble with his Talent. As he had suspected—or hoped—with his Talent he
could sense an area to the south of the main temple that seemed to hold goods.
He rode southward another ten yards, then motioned for a lancer to climb up
onto a smaller pile of stone.

“If
you can lever away the slab on top…” Alucius studied the rock, then nodded. “You
see that dark patch there?”

The
lancer with the rock hammer and chisel nodded.

“Put
the chisel just below it… no… a little to the right. There’s a fracture there
somewhere.”

The
lancer worked at it for almost a tenth of a glass, then leapt up and stepped
back. With a long and slow
craaackk
, the sheet of
sandy rock split, and the lower half slid off the rounded redstone below,
breaking into smaller fragments.

Just
underneath the remaining slab, Alucius could see the square corner of a
passageway. “There!” He gestured.

“How’d
he know that… ?” came a murmur from somewhere.

“You
don’t want to know…”

“Clear
the rock away from the doorway,” Alucius ordered.

While
he wanted to help, he forced himself to watch as lancers cleared away the
remaining rock. That took more than three glasses, and he was grateful that the
day was cool and breezy. The efforts also reminded him that finding out things
and coming up with ideas were far easier than the grunt work necessary to
implement those ideas.

Once
the last bits of rubble had been removed, it was clear that the tunnel deeper
into the hillside had not been touched by the effects of the blast set off by
Adarat.

Alucius
dismounted, then gestured to the lancers with the pry bars and hammers. “You
all did the work. We’ll go in together.” He pointed to Kasaff, who had
single-handedly moved large chunks of the rubble. “Do you want to lead the way?”

Kasaff
grinned. “Just so you’re right there, sir.”

“Smart
lancer,” Alucius quipped.

Laughter
rumbled across the squad.

Alucius
stepped into the passageway, stone smoothed years before, certainly not at all
recently, and walked toward the door on his left.

The
first room was but half-full and contained several barrels of dried and salted
beef, almost ten huge wedges of hard cheese, and more than a score of barrels of
flour. There was one barrel of dried fruit and what looked to be a barrel of
wine.

The
second room held, unsurprisingly, cases of ammunition, but not a single rifle.

The
third room, well to the back, was locked, with the large lock attached to a
heavy hasp.

“Need
a hammer, like as a whole forge, to cut that,” offered Kasaff.

Alucius
slipped out his belt knife and stepped toward the lock. “Maybe not.” He stood
so that no one behind him could see what he was doing and pretended to work at
the keyhole with the point of the knife, as he wrestled with the internal
workings of the lock with his Talent.

How
long that took, he wasn’t certain, but his face was dripping sweat when the
lock popped open. He stepped back, handing the open lock to Quesal. Before
trying the door lever, he cast a Talent-probe into the room behind the door,
but he could sense nothing in the nature of an obvious trap. Then, he opened
the door and let it swing wide.

The
room was small, a strong room no more than three yards on a side, with but
three chests side by side on a crude waist-high bench. The chests were closed,
but not locked.

Again,
pausing, Alucius extended his Talent, but aside from a lingering trace of ifrit
purple, there was no sign of anything besides wood and metal.

He
opened the first chest. Less than half-full, it contained golds, but not an
extraordinary number for the treasure taken from a city—certainly no more than
a thousand coins, if that. The second chest held the silvers, and there were
perhaps slightly more than a thousand. The last chest was almost empty, holding
only a hundred or so coppers.

Alucius
stood by the chests, letting every lancer who wanted to come down the
passageway and look at them. Then, once the chests were loaded onto the wagon,
he assembled the two squads and began to speak to them.

“I
had all of you look at the chests. I wanted you to see what was there. I’d like
to tell the others what we found, but I also want you to understand what we did
not find,” He paused. “We did not find all that was stolen from Hyalt. Nor will
we. It is spread across Corus. Think of this.

“What
we found is what is left. It seems large, but it is not, not for the wealth of
a large town. It is not enough to pay the payroll of the Northern Guard for a
season. I doubt if it would pay the Southern Guard for a month. Without these
coins, the people of Hyalt will starve this winter. Even with them, many will
die. The coins will go back to the people from whom they came because the coins
were stolen from them, and taking them from here would only make us no better
than those we defeated. Worse, it would make us thieves as well. That’s all.”

He
turned the gray and gestured to Feran.

“Column!
Forward!”

After
they had ridden out through the abandoned gates, Feran looked at Alucius. “Some
of them still won’t like it.”

“I
know they won’t.”

“They’ll
say you’re a rich herder, and you can afford it, and they can’t.”

Alucius’s
laugh was bitter, but there was little he could say that anyone would
understand. He was well-off, but not wealthy. He’d been blackmailed into
commanding a force on an unpopular mission, leaving his family to fight off
Talent-creatures without him—but saying all of that would convince no one. He
just knew that starving people in order to line lancers’ pockets was wrong. The
people well might perish anyway, but he wasn’t about to make matters worse than
they had to be.

Alucius
walked into the Hyalt council chambers in mid-afternoon on Octdi. The two women
and the wiry white-haired man who sat along one side of the long table looked
up at him.

“I
just thought I’d see how you were doing,” Alucius said politely.

“The
coin will help,” offered Asala, the younger woman, perhaps the age of Alucius’s
mother.

“That
was all?” asked Birtraf. “Much more was given to him, I would judge.”

“That
was all. I’d guess that he had to pay high prices for the weapons and
ammunition, and for the uniforms. Were there any traders who came here with
large wagons?”

“There
were several. They came on the road from Syan, and their wagons bore the symbol
of a silver wheel. I had not seen them before the last spring.”

“They
probably have most of the coin.” Traders from the east, or the north? Ones that
no one had seen before? Could they have come all the way from Lustrea? Or could
they have been the traders who had become more active in Dekhron? Kustyl had
said that they had become far more adventurous and effective. Were they somehow
tied in with the ifrits? But why would ifrits need coin?

“Majer…
how long do you intend to remain in Hyalt?”

“I
would judge that it will not be long. I sent my report to Tempre a week ago.
That’s one reason why we have tried to get as much done as we could.”

“For
a conqueror, Majer, you have wielded a tight lash. I wish that I could say
more,” offered Asala.

“I’ll
take that as a compliment,” Alucius said. “I only wish that none here had
followed Adarat.”

“So
do we,” replied Birtraf, “but where was the Lord-Protector when we needed
protection against a false prophet? Waging an unnecessary war in Madrien?”

Alucius
had to struggle to bite back a harsh retort. He paused, then replied, “There
are always false prophets, and no ruler can protect his people from
foolishness.” He forced a polite smile. “If you have no more questions…”

None
of the three offered a word.

“Then,
good day. I will let you know when we will be departing.” Alucius nodded,
turned, and left the chamber.

Why
did people always resent a ruler, despite expecting him to protect them from
their own stupidity? Then, he reflected, Adarat had used Talent to get people
to act against their wills. But what ruler could detect that, let alone fight
it?

Alucius
walked back to the unofficial officers’ quarters as fast as he could. Not that
there was any rush, but because it was yet another way of working out his sore
muscles, although the majority of his bruises had faded into a pale yellow and
purple.

Two
Southern Guard lancers stood waiting inside the foyer of the dwelling. Both
stiffened to attention as Alucius entered.

“Majer,
sir!” snapped the older, extending an envelope. “A dispatch from Marshal
Frynkel, sir.”

Alucius
took the envelope, forcing a pleasant smile. “Thank you. Our quarters, for now,
are in the inn on the square. Once I’ve read this, I’ll have a response. It’s
not likely to be immediate.”

“Yes,
sir.” The dispatch rider cleared his throat. “We’re to wait for a response.”

“I’m
sure that waiting at the inn will prove far more comfortable. You’ve had a long
and a hard ride. I’ll make sure you know as soon as my reply is ready.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Neither
dispatch rider said a word even after they had stepped outside. Alucius took
the still-sealed envelope through the archway into the front parlor and study.
There, he used his belt knife to slit the end of the envelope. There were two
pages inside. The first sheet was a dispatch addressed to Alucius. He began to
read.

Majer
Alucius—

Congratulations
and our deepest appreciation for your most effective efforts. Your report on
the resolution of the unrest in Hyalt was most welcome news to the
Lord-Protector, and he has asked me to convey his great and deep appreciation
for your efforts…

Alucius
stiffened. When someone else was conveying appreciation, there was trouble
ahead, or words that he needed to peruse most carefully. He continued reading.

He
was also most pleased at the comparatively low casualties, for which you are
also to be most highly commended, for qualified lancers are most urgently
needed.

I
must regretfully inform you that the Regent of the Matrial has undertaken a
massive assault against our forces surrounding Southgate and that Marshal Wyerl
has perished in battles to the north of Southgate in the defense of the city
and the port. Marshal Alyniat has taken over the defenses and has rushed all
available lancers westward to combat her forces and crystal spear-throwers.

In
this time of crisis, when all the lands east of Madrien are threatened, the
Lord-Protector requests that you complete what you can within the next two days
in setting Hyalt back on the proper path toward rebuilding. Upon that timely conclusion,
he would ask your sufferance to take your force to Zalt and from there to
Southgate, to place yourself and your companies under the command of Marshal
Alyniat or the commanding marshal, of course, as you see fit as a loyal officer
of the Northern Guard.

If
you choose to accept this request, the attached formal orders are yours to use
as necessary.

The
dispatch was signed by Marshal Frynkel, Acting Arms-Commander of Lanachrona.

Alucius
looked at the last few words, once more, before rereading the entire sheet.
Then he took out the second sheet and read it. Those orders directed him to
report to Marshal Alyniat or the commanding marshal. If he found no marshal in
command, he was to coordinate with the officer in charge at his own discretion.
That, in itself, was frightening.

It
also made him more than a little angry. He had a wife who was expecting a
child, and once more he was being forced into riding off and solving another
problem that wasn’t of his making. And if he didn’t, both Wendra and Alendra—and
most of the Iron Valleys—would probably suffer.

“What
is it?”

Alucius
looked up to see Feran standing in the archway to the study.

“I
heard that we’d gotten some dispatch riders,” Feran offered. “I’d hoped we’d
get some word on when we could head back to Dekhron.”

“That
might be a little difficult,” Alucius said. “We’ve been ‘requested’ to try to
save the Lord-Protector in Southgate.”