Scepters (91 page)

“I’d
like that, too. So… Wendra and I will do the dirty work—”

“Wendra?
She… you’ve got a child.”

“She’s
also a herder, and I need someone who can resist Talent and handle a rifle.”
Alucius needed more than that, but that was as much as he was about to admit.

Feran
chuckled ironically. “Anything that needs two of you…”

“Tarolt
and his two assistants can use Talent up close, but not from a distance. We’ll
take advantage of that. We’ll use Faisyn and first squad to keep them pinned
inside so that they can’t escape.”

“Then
what?”

“Tarolt
and his people are holed up in a building just south of the orchard—it was an
apricot orchard, wasn’t it, where you found the chestnut?”

“All
those fruit trees look alike to me.”

“We’re
just going to sneak in the underground entrance and flush them out.”

“Just
like that? You and Wendra?” Feran raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to stay
in one piece this time, or is this going to be like the business with the
prophet?”

“It
could be worse,” Alucius admitted.

“Can’t
we just…” Feran paused. “They were really behind the Regent?”

“And
Weslyn, and the attacks on Twenty-first Company when we were at Emal.”

“How
many are there?”

“Three
that I know of, but there could be more. They were training more people in
using Talent. I don’t know where they came from, but they could use Talent.”
Again, Alucius was stretching the truth.

“How
about two squads?”

Alucius
considered for a moment. “Two would be fine. I don’t like the idea of riding an
entire company up to a trader’s building. Oh, and I need a mount for Wendra,
and another rifle for her. I’ll pay for them, but she’ll need them.”

“The
man is trying to save his homeland, and he still thinks about not abusing his
position.” Feran shifted his weight in the wooden chair. “Then, that’s another
reason why I trust you when you tell me something strange like this. It also
doesn’t hurt that you’re always right. Anyone who wagers against you loses.”

“Not
always. I did end up in the Matrite forces.”

“True.
But who else ever escaped, except the ones you brought back?”

“There
must have been some,” Alucius demurred.

“When
do you want to do this?” asked Feran.

“Tomorrow
morning, starting two glasses before dawn.”

“I
could have guessed. You’ve always had that herder habit of getting up early.”

Alucius
laughed, once. “I’d prefer to sleep later, but I need the darkness to set up
things, and I worry about their bringing in more Talent.”

“Tarolt
can’t be just a trader.”

“He’s
not. But we’ll leave it at that.”

“So
long as you’re colonel, that’s fine by me.”

“So
long as I’m the one explaining? I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to explain. But
it doesn’t matter. We have to stop Tarolt before he does any more damage.”

“With
what he’s done already, that’s good enough for me. How do you want to approach
his stronghold?”

Alucius
opened the drawer, looking for paper on which to sketch out his plan, and Feran
eased his chair up to the other side of the desk.

It
was late afternoon by the time Alucius and Feran had finished working out the
details, including briefing Faisyn on the particulars of the next morning’s
attack. Alucius had only munched on some dry travel bread, and his stomach was
growling as he walked up the steps to the commander’s quarters.

He
had barely closed the door when Wendra met him, draped in one of his tunics.

“It
was good to get washed up, but I just had to wash out everything I’d been
wearing. I hope you don’t mind.”

He
eyed her appreciatively. “I don’t mind at all. Where’s Alendra?”

“She’s
sleeping in the second bedroom.”

Alucius
grinned widely.

Wendra
flushed.

After
a moment, they both laughed.

Early
on Tridi morning, two and a half glasses before dawn, Alucius had finished his
simple breakfast of bread, cheese, dried fruit, and water. So had Wendra, and
she had just changed Alendra and strapped her into the carrypack.

“You’re
wearing nightsilk?” asked Alucius.

“I
told you I was. That’s why I washed it yesterday.”

“Are
you sure you can use the rifle with her?” asked Alucius.

“I’m
sure.” A tinge of exasperation colored Wendra’s voice. “The carrypack holds her
out of the way, and it’s nightsilk. I’m used to it. I’ve ridden the stead and
shot sandwolves with her. I’ve even killed a black sander and one of those
pteridons…”

Alucius
hadn’t realized that the wild translations had continued to track Wendra. She’d
never said a word.

“…
Besides, it will take two of us. You’ve gotten hurt every single time you’ve
gone against the ifrits by yourself. And I’m not leaving Alendra. Don’t even
suggest it.”

“She’d
be safe here,” Alucius ventured.

Wendra
looked directly at him. “For how long… if anything happens to either of us? I
can’t help you if I’m worrying about her, and you can’t do this without me. We
have to do it together.”

“I
could detail a squad.”

“How
much good would they be against those ifrits?”

Alucius
decided against saying more. “We’d better head down to the courtyard.” He
slipped on the nightsilk riding jacket. With the vest under his tunic, he
trusted that his body was as well protected as possible. Wendra was wearing his
lighter nightsilk riding jacket, with the bottoms of the sleeves rolled up. He
just hoped that they wouldn’t come under rifle fire from the ifrits.

He
picked up both his rifles and slung the saddlebags over his shoulder. All that
was inside were packages of travel fare, as well as two belt water bottles. All
the cartridges in his belt and in the magazines of his rifles and Wendra’s
rifle were already infused with dark lifeforce, but they needed to do the same
for the rifles of the lancers who would be accompanying them.

Alucius
waited at the door for Wendra and Alendra, then closed it behind them. It
thudded shut with a heavy dullness.

Dhaget
had their mounts saddled and waiting, but after putting the saddlebags in
place, Alucius took a moment to check everything before slipping the rifles into
their cases. Wendra had already mounted by the time he finished. As the two
squads began to form up in the darkness, Alucius and Wendra began to infuse the
cartridges of first squad with lifeforce darkness.

“That’s
not tiring you, is it?” he asked.

“Dear…
I’m fine.”

Alucius
winced. Somehow, it was different with Wendra accompanying him. She was more
capable than most of the lancers, if not all of them, and yet… he couldn’t help
worrying.

“If
I fussed over you,” she whispered quietly, leaning toward him, “the way you are
over me, you’d have removed my head a good glass ago.”

He
flushed, glad that it was dim enough in the courtyard that she could not see. “I’m
sorry,” he finally replied, in a low voice.

“You
don’t have to be sorry. Just don’t do it anymore.”

Alucius
couldn’t help smiling.

Faisyn
reined up, less than three yards away. “First and second squads are present and
ready, Colonel.”

“Thank
you, Faisyn. I’d like to say a few words to them before we head out.”

“Yes,
sir.” Faisyn turned his mount. “Listen up. Colonel’s got a few words for you!”

Alucius
urged the chestnut forward, then reined up, waiting for the last murmurs to die
away before speaking, using a touch of Talent to boost his voice and project
absolute conviction. “As some of you may know, I was on a mission for the
Lord-Protector, trying to find out some things. What I discovered is that a
trader here has Talent, just like the prophet. This trader was the one who
trained the prophet, and he was the one who corrupted Colonel Weslyn, They’ve been
working to weaken the Northern Guard so that the Regent can move into parts of
the Iron Valleys. This morning, your job is simple. You’re to make sure that no
one escapes from the trader’s stronghold. These people are like the prophet’s
lancers. They’ll keep coming and try to kill you until they’re dead. They’re
about as evil and as low as anyone can be, and they’ve done just about
everything they can to weaken the Guard and get you and the other lancers
killed off so that they could make a few golds. We’re going to put a stop to
it. When we get where we’re going, senior squad leader Faisyn will deploy you
so that you can cover all the entrances to the stronghold. Under
no
circumstances are you to leave your group. That’s all.”
Alucius turned to Faisyn. “Let’s head out.”

“Colonel’s
detail, form on the colonel.”

Four
lancers rode forward, headed by Dhaget and Fewal, moving in behind Alucius and
Wendra. Once they were in position, Alucius urged the big chestnut toward the
gates. Wendra kept pace.

“Squads,
forward! Silent riding! Silent riding!”

The
small force rode through Dekhron, toward the River Vedra bridge. Outside of
insects, and the occasional squalling of a stray cat, or the barking of a dog,
the loudest sound was that of hoofs on the street, a clicking that sharpened
once they turned onto the eternastone high road north of the bridge.

Selena
had set shortly after sunset, but the tiny green disc of Asterta was close to
its zenith as Alucius reached the midpoint of the bridge. Was that a sign? With
a wry smile, Alucius dismissed it as mere coincidence.

Few
as the lamps were in Dekhron, by comparison, Salaan was totally dark, and
Alucius had to rely on both his Talent and his herder’s night-sight to pick out
the side road leading toward the Table building—and the scepters within. All
the time, Asterta stood high in the predawn sky, symbol of the ancient goddess
of war, a tiny, bright green disc shedding little light.

As
Alucius led his force away off the side road and westward along the lane toward
the eastern end of the orchard that bordered the Table building, the faintest
trace of gray had begun to appear above the eastern horizon. They had ridden
only a few hundred yards down the lane when Alucius turned in the saddle and
whispered, “Faisyn!”

“Sir…”

“Here’s
where we leave you. You know what to do. Don’t let anyone get close to you and
the men, and don’t let them escape. If you shoot someone, leave them where they
fall.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Alucius
turned the chestnut to the south, leading the way across the meadow toward the
dip in the hillside. Tarolt’s Table building was almost a vingt to the
southwest from the point he and Wendra had picked out. When they reached the
base of the low hills, Alucius guided the chestnut up the swale, extending his
Talent sense, trying to seek out the ley lines beneath the clay and rock of the
hillside.

Halfway
up, he reined the chestnut to a halt. “This is as close as we can ride.”

“Yes,
sir.”

After
he dismounted, Alucius handed the chestnut’s reins to Dhaget, while Wendra handed
those of her roan to Fewal. Alucius took both his rifles from their cases, then
looked up at Dhaget. “This could be over in a glass, or it could take half a
day. If you see anyone coming from the building to the west, shoot them.
Otherwise, just wait.”

“Yes,
sir.” Dhaget’s voice held a slight question.

“We’re
going to try to enter through a hidden underground entrance. You can’t do it
unless you’re a herder or have Talent.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Alucius
looked to Wendra and Alendra. Their daughter was awake, peering through the
predawn dimness, but making only slight gurgling sounds.

“We’ll
walk up a ways.”

Wendra
nodded.

After
about thirty yards, Alucius stopped. “Can you feel them?” He hooked the second
rifle to the makeshift clip on his belt.

“I
think we’re close enough.”

“We’ll
try to come out on the east end of the Table room, and you’ll have to be ready
to fire the moment you can… If we don’t have time to reload, we drop under and
come back here.”

“I’m
taking whichever side I’m on, and you’re taking the other?”

“That’s
right.”

Alucius
concentrated on letting a Talent-probe weave through the ground beneath him,
seeking a firm contact with the misty blackness of the ley lines beneath. As he
probed, he was ever more aware of Wendra’s presence. He brought up the rifle
into a firing position, knowing that he would emerge in that same position.
Wendra followed his example.

Alendra
gurgled happily.

“There…”
he murmured, as his probe touched and linked to the darkness below.

“Me
too.”

Alucius felt himself merging with the blackness beneath and with
the hillside as he dropped down toward the ley line. He could sense Wendra and
Alendra as well, even as they reached the chill darkness that they would travel
such a short distance. Above them was the purpled hard blackness of the ifrit’s
translation tube, and ahead were the maroon and green of the Table and the
purple pinkness of the scepter and the portal it created. The silvery barrier
wavered before him, and he could make out two ifrits beyond the Table.

Silver splashed away from him…

His
finger tightened on the trigger, but he had to take a half step to steady
himself.

Crack! Crack
! Wendra had gotten there first and was
already firing.

Crack
! Alucius’s first shot took the ifrit on the left,
for he was to the left of his wife, squarely in the chest. The ifrit man
staggered.

The
second shot went through the broad forehead.

The
other ifrit dropped.

Another
figure in purple and maroon scrambled down the steps—and dropped as both
Alucius and Wendra fired together.