Soarers Choice (30 page)

“Sixteenth
Company! Back to the road! Re-form on the road.” Mykel turned his mount back
northward. He repeated the command as he rode, whenever he saw one of his men.
In less than a tenth of a glass, he was on the hillside slope overlooking the
high road, where the rest of Third Battalion and Nineteenth Company remained,
holding the road. Behind them were the supply wagons and the rear guard.

Fortunately,
there were no more shots. Unfortunately, it was more than half a glass before
all Sixteenth Company was back in formation on the road. Mykel could only feel
a slight soreness in his shoulder, but it was in the back of his shoulder
blade, more from the twisting impact of the bullet against his Talent shield
than from an impact or an actual wound.

Rhystan
reined up on the south side of the road. “Squad leaders. Report!”

“First
squad, two dead, two wounded, one seriously.”

“Second
squad, two dead, one wounded ...”

“Third
squad, one dead, no wounded ...”

All
in all, Sixteenth Company had lost only five men, and neither fourth nor fifth
squad reported any casualties. Mykel hadn’t expected many, since the fighting
had largely concluded before they had reached the area where the Reillies had
set up the ambush.

After
they resumed riding, Mykel looked to Rhystan. “Do you have any
i.e.
how many we killed?”

“Ten,
maybe fifteen, but that’s a guess. How many did you take out, Majer?”

“Three.”
Mykel grimaced. “One was still a girl.”

“They
shoot as well as their brothers and fathers, sometimes better.”

“I
know, but I don’t like it.”

“Women
fly with the Myrmidons. That captain of the Myrmidon Seventh Company is tougher
than most of the alectors she commands. That’s how I saw her, anyway.”

“She’s
formidable.” Mykel hadn’t cared at all for the way in which Captain Lyzetta had
studied him, not in the slightest.

“I
still don’t see why those Reillies didn’t fire a full volley when we charged,”
said Rhystan. “They could have dealt us far greater casualties if they had.”

“Two
reasons, I’d guess,” Mykel replied. “First, they were planning to shoot
directly down on the road, so they had to turn, and it was a longer shot, and
they weren’t really prepared for it. Second, old habits die hard. They’re used
to single-shot weapons. You need staggered fire with them or you’re defenseless
if everyone’s reloading at once. They probably haven’t practiced that much with
their new Cadmian rifles, and they might not have that much ammunition.”

“We
won’t be that lucky again.”

“They’ll
still be slower than we are for a while,” Mykel said. “That’s another reason
why we need to clean them up as quickly as we can.”

Rhystan
shook his head. “You did Hamylt a favor, you know?”

“What?
Giving the Reillies the
i.e.
that we’d come after
them into the trees?” Mykel had almost said “stupidly,” but he’d realized
before he spoke that there was no point in undermining himself when the
casualties had been low, probably no higher than they would have been had he
and Sixteenth Company not charged into the trees. “I’ll have to tell him not to
do it, because he won’t have a battalion behind him in case things don’t work
out.” He paused. “Then, they might do more to provoke him.”

“True.”

They
rode westward for another glass, and the clouds overhead began to break,
providing intervals of sunlight, but there was no sign of any more Reillies.

“You
think the main body is still west of Wesrigg?” Mykel finally asked.

“They
could be anywhere around here,” Rhystan replied, “but I’d say so because
there’s an old road that leads back toward that town that’s off the road
between Dekhron and Iron Stem. Sudon — that’s it.”

Mykel
nodded. “So they can take it to Sudon or take the south fork to the bridge
across the Vedra to Borlan. And they won’t have to fight through us to get to
the road.”

“Right.”

Somehow,
Mykel doubted that anything would be that simple.

First
Company had left Harmony before sunrise on Sexdi and flown for over a glass
before the orange-white light of the sun had cascaded across the forests and
the scattered holdings that flanked the high road north to Klamat. Under a
clear silver-green sky, below the pteridons, everything was white — except for
the high road, which was already a dark gray as the snow had begun to melt.
Dainyl had always marveled at how the eternastone intensified the light and
heat of the sun, so that the roads were clear long before anything else had
begun to melt.

With
the help of a tailwind, by slightly before midday they reached Klamat, where
they stopped briefly, then left the guidance of the high road behind, flying
directly across the whiteness of the snow-swept Moors of Yesterday.

“Much
better today, sir,” Halya called back. “Much,” Dainyl agreed.

He’d
sent a message by sandox from Harmony, saying that the weather had delayed
their flight to Blackstear, and Alcyna would probably receive it late in the
day. Dainyl hoped that First Company would hold Blackstear by then, but in case
they didn’t someone should know the reason why they were running late.

The
night before, Dainyl and Ghasylt had discussed their planned approach to the
Table and the options they would use. From what he had seen so far, it appeared
as though the sky over Blackstear was going to be clear, and that First Company
would fly in from the west-southwest.

Another
three glasses or so passed, and in the distance ahead, Dainyl could make out a
change in terrain, where the moor gave way to the band of forest south and east
of Blackstear.

Before
that long, Dainyl could see the area more clearly. The plateaulike hill on
which the Table building sat was covered with snow. He could barely make out
the depression in the snow where the stone road wound toward the harbor. Only
the snow-covered flatness between the hills to the west of the Table structure
revealed where the river ran. The roof of the warehouse and the tops of the bollards
on the harbor piers provided the sole indication of where the edges of the
small harbor ended and the frozen ocean began. From the handful of dwellings
clustered behind the pier warehouse rose thin trails of white smoke. East and
south of the Table building was the evergreen forest Dainyl recalled,
stretching into the distance, although so much snow had fallen that it was hard
to make out the green under all the white. The open tundra to the north was an
expanse of white that melded with the darker white of the frozen ocean.

“Edge
closer to the captain!” he called to Halya.

“Yes,
sir.”

The
pteridons closed, and Ghasylt looked up. “Head west! For the approach!” Dainyl
called out across the space between the pteridons.

Ghasylt
nodded and banked into a gentle left turn, straighterring on a course slightly
north of west. The fliers of First Company followed. After a good five vingts
Ghasylt began a wide turn back toward the northeast, straightening up so that
the pteridons were aimed directly at the Table building, with the white sun
falling directly on the backs of the Myrmidons.

The
approach minimized the glare for the Myrmidons and would make it difficult, if
not close to impossible, for the Ifrits holding the Table to see the
approaching pteridons against both the sun and the glare off the new-fallen
snow.

Dainyl
neither saw nor sensed anything out of the ordinary until they were less than a
vingt from the Table building when several figures in green and gray scrambled
out onto the north portico.

A
line of intense blue-green light flashed past him. It had to be some kind of
lightcannon, but he’d never seen anything like it. Clearly, it was something
the fleeing Ifrits had brought with them — probably the weapon Delari had
described.

“Skylances!
Fire at will!” Dainyl yelled.

Ghasylt
echoed the command, and the blue flare of skylances crossed the scattering of
blue-green rays coming from the north portico of the Table building.

“Drop
altitude and take evasive action!” Dainyl called to Halya. “That’s a lightcannon!
Bring us in as low as you can!” He realized after he gave the command that the
weapon was probably better termed a light-rifle, but he wasn’t about to change
command terms in the middle of an attack.

Halya
said nothing, but the pteridon sideslipped and dropped off to the left, then
dived in toward the ground, leveling off less than twenty yards above the snow.

As
late as it was in the afternoon, with the sun low in the sky, Dainyl hoped that
glare and sunlight would make it even harder to aim the handheld lightcannon,
but even as he thought that, blue flame filled the sky to the right, above, and
behind them. He sensed the loss of a Myrmidon, but not of a pteridon.

Halya’s
skylance flared toward the portico, and blue flame flared, then splashed away from
one of the stone pillars. Another line of blue-green angled off Dainyl’s
shields, and he staggered in the harness, just before Halya pulled up, barely
clearing the roof of the Table building.

Dainyl
looked back to see how the remainder of First Company was faring. Skylance
beams outnumbered the light-rifle beams, and he could no longer catch a glimpse
of any of the gray and green uniformed Ifrits.

By
the time Halya and Ghasylt had completed their turns and were flying inbound
once more on another pass, the light-rifle fire from the portico had died away.

Dainyl
called to Ghasylt. “Have first squad set down on the side of the building,
where they can’t fire at us without exposing themselves. Have the rest of the
company circle and provide cover.”

“Yes,
sir! First squad ...”

Halya
didn’t even ask, but set her pteridon down less than three yards from the
marble wall that was the west side of the building.

“You
stay here with your skylance ready. Fire at anyone who so much as sticks his
head out.”

“Yes,
sir!”

Dainyl
eased out of the harness and slipped off the pteridon. He immediately found
himself in waist-deep snow, yet he was almost beside the building. No one was
firing at him. The outside north portico was empty.

The
four remaining pteridons of first squad had landed, and the Myrmidons had their
skylances covering the north portico. From what Dainyl had seen and could now
confirm, the Ifrits had ripped out stones from an outer terrace — or somewhere
— and hurriedly blocked windows and the entrance to the south portico. They had
retreated inside, and getting in — or getting them out — was going to be more
than a little difficult. Absently, he wondered why inactivating the Table had
not killed some of them, as had happened in Hyalt. Was it that he had not totally
destroyed the Table, and there was a residual link?

Had
he known that, he might have destroyed it — but then that would have created a
whole set of other problems.

Slowly,
still holding his shields and lightcutters, he moved through the snow toward the
stone base of the portico, trying to keep himself shielded by the stone from a
direct shot by the light-rifle. A skylance flared, and blue flame wreathed one
of the stone columns.

Dainyl
could sense pain ... injury ... but not death. His right shoulder was almost
against the marble as he moved through the snow, still powdery, but heavier
than he had thought. He was thankful that the air was still. As he neared the
e.g.
of the portico, he staggered and nearly fell as the toe
of one boot struck the first of the stone steps hidden by the snow.

He
extended his Talent-senses, trying to determine who might still be hiding or
waiting behind the pillars on the portico above. From what he could sense, no
one remained out in the open air, but at least two were close to the entrance,
although Dainyl was not sure whether they were in the entryway arch or just
inside. Still, he should be able to get up to the portico, taking cover behind
one of the columns, without exposing himself.

As
he started up the snow-covered lower steps, he found himself joined by three
rankers from first squad. He hadn’t even heard the orders.

“Take
cover,” he ordered, keeping his own head low as he edged up the steps and came
up directly behind the column to the right of the open space flanking the
center of the steps leading down to the snow-covered road to the harbor.

Dainyl
strengthened his shields, then eased the barrel of the lightcutter around the
stone, and fired, using Talent to direct the blast at the entry arch and the
Ifrit flattened on the left side.

The
Ifrit’s shields held, but barely, and Dainyl fired again.

The
second blast went through tattered shields, and the alector fell. The second
alector retreated inside the building.

“Cover
me!” snapped Dainyl, moving as quickly as he could across the stone tiles that
held patches of packed snow in places.

A
single flare of green-blue flashed by his shoulder, then broke off as the blue
beam of a lightcutter returned fire. The heavy doors clunked shut.

With
the doors closed, Dainyl made it to the side of the archway without coming
under more fire. He passed three sets of boots and tunics, and there might have
been others.

“We
need a pteridon at the front of the portico! They’ve closed the doors.”

Almost
as soon as he called, Halya appeared. Her pteridon used claws and tail to
balance so that Halya could point her lance directly at the doors. “What do you
want?”

“At
my signal, full fire at the door.”

“Standing
by.”

Dainyl
moved along the wall to the far west edge, holding his shields, and creating a
Talent funnel toward the lock plates. “Now!”