Soarers Choice (40 page)

“What
about those who lacked the power and access to the Tables on Ifryn until now?”

“Some
are stupid, and some are without courage, and some are merely unfortunate
victims, and every world has all three. You cannot have a strong society if you
pander to the unintelligent, the willing weak, and the unfortunates. The
universe does not reward compassion, only survival and success.”

“You’re
quoting Views of the Highest.”

“Sometimes
they’re right.” Alcyna’s lips quirked into an ironic smile.

For
all of her words, and her cynicism, Dainyl could sense that, deep within, she
was as troubled as he was.

Outside,
the wind moaned. Grains of fine sand oozed through the cracks in window frames
and shutters and dropped to the floor, building miniature dunes against the
outside walls of the patroller building.

Slightly
past midmorning on Londi, the wind began to die away. Within a glass, Dainyl
could see the hills around Soupat once more. Everything was coated with fine
sand, but as Ghasylt and Lyzetta reported, the pteridons were untroubled and
ready to fly.

The
greatest difficulty facing the Myrmidons was getting the sand out of the riding
gear. The skylances were sealed units, and untouched by the powdery sand, but
little else was. A glass later, all five squads of pteridons were lifting off,
heading out to begin finding and stockpiling boulders. Almost three glasses
went by before they had gathered enough to begin their bombardment, an understandable
delay given the coating of sand on the southern sides of the valleys and hills.

During
this time, the Myrmidons observing the buildings held by the Ifryns reported no
outside activity except on the top of the central structure, where the sand had
been shoveled away even as the observation pteridons were taking to the air.
That area was where the heavy lightcannon was located, and clearly the Ifryn
refugees wanted to have their main weapon in readiness before Dainyl’s
pteridons could attack in force. There were no tracks in the sand on the ridge
or on the road down to Soupat.

Once
more, after briefing the Myrmidons from both companies, just before midday,
Dainyl took his position as an observer on the higher ridge, although the climb
up from where Halya landed him was more treacherous because there was far more
of the powdery sand that made crossing smooth sections of rock treacherous. He
assigned Alcyna the task of questioning the locals about recent events in
Soupat.

Lyzetta
and the two reduced squads from Seventh Company began the bombardment from the
west. The captain’s first boulder plowed to a halt a good twenty yards from the
easternmost building, raising a large cloud of sandy dust. The next pteridon
was from First Company, and the boulder lobbed from the northwest barely
managed to travel thirtyodd yards before rolling to a halt well short of
anything remotely resembling a building.

Lyzetta’s
second flier was on-target with a cylindrical boulder that hit on its side and
rolled across the flat, striking the easternmost building. Stones and masonry
flew everywhere. Dainyl only wished that it had impacted the central building —
the one holding the lightcannon. Two more First Company pteridons flung
boulders from the west, but neither rolled close to any structure, although
they raised more of the sandy dust that seemed to hang in the still air,
creating areas of haze across the ridgetop.

A
beam of brilliant blue-green lashed eastward, barely missing the third pteridon
from Seventh Company. The heavy lightcannon hummed so loudly that Dainyl could
hear it from his position more than a vingt away, and the sand dust in the air
sparkled and burned, leaving a swath of clear air for a moment. Once the beam
vanished, more of the dust began to swirl into the space that had been clear
moments before.

The
boulder released by the pteridon targeted and missed by the lightcannon arced
up and onto the ridge, then tumbled eastward until it clipped the northeast
corner of the easternmost building, but only a handful of stones fell. Still,
the eastern building, the smallest of the three, appeared so damaged that
Dainyl doubted it would be that long before it collapsed in upon itself.

One
after another, using various launch points, the next four Myrmidons guided
their pteridons into position and released more of the heavy boulders. Three
missed, and the fourth did minimal damage to the westernmost building.

After
a brief pause, two more Myrmidons attacked, simultaneously, one from the west
and one from the northeast. The lightcannon did not even attempt to fire at
either, but neither was successful in inflicting additional damage on the
structures.

Dainyl
had the feeling it was going to be a long day, perhaps even a long week, and a
week was not something he or the Myrmidons could afford.

For
the next two glasses, the maneuvering and bombardment efforts continued, with
the sand and dust rising into an ever hotter day, and with some improvement in
accuracy, especially on the part of the Myrmidons of First Company. By
midaftemoon, one in three boulders was striking one of the buildings, and
perhaps half of those inflicted some damage. The heavy lightcannon continued to
stab intermittently through the sand and dust, trying to destroy pteridons, but
only turning airborne particles into momentary flashes of fire or light and
creating momentary swathes of clearer air.

After
a break by the Myrmidons for food and gathering more boulders, during which
Halya brought two water bottles to Dainyl, along with some field rations, the
attack began again.

The
break had clearly helped, either in focusing the Myrmidons, or in letting some
of the sand and dust settle to afford a better view of the targets. The first
two pteridons were successful in casting their boulders directly into
structures. Unfortunately, the structures were the two outbuildings, rather
than the central one, but the eastern building shuddered under the impact, and
a good section of its north wall sagged almost to the point of collapse.

The
next pteridon, coming from the west, rose well above the ridgeline and used
both sets of talons to propel an even larger boulder directly at the central
building.

Dainyl
winced even before the lightcannon swung from the east and fired, slamming into
the side of the pteridon and turning both pteridon and Myrmidon into a glaring
blue explosion that roared through the afternoon air.

Dainyl
blinked, and almost missed the impact of the overlarge boulder delivered by the
Myrmidon and pteridon who had just perished. Inexorably, it rumbled toward the
western wall of the center building, crashing into it with enough force that
Dainyl could see the entire building shudder and a course of stones fly off the
top of the north side wall.

For
all that, Dainyl would have preferred less impact and not losing the Myrmidon
and pteridon.

Another
pteridon released a boulder from the northeast, one that slammed into the north
wall of the smaller eastern building. First, the northwest corner crumpled,
then the northern wall, followed by the northeast corner. Dust shot up from the
middle of the smaller structure as the remainder of the building imploded into
a pile of stone. Dainyl did not see any alectors leave the collapsed structure,
but he doubted that there had been many within, not after the damage inflicted
on the previous day.

Three
more pteridons released their boulders before the lightcannon attempted to fire
again, and two struck — one hitting the central building, if indirectly,
because it had actually struck one of the boulders that had earlier smashed
against and into the lower wall, but still widening the gap and dislodging more
stones from the wall above. The second boulder shivered the western building.

Another
glass passed, with more boulders missing than hitting, but without any more
Myrmidon casualties.

In
late afternoon, after yet another break for replenishment and rest, the attack
resumed once more. As before, the first pass resulted in more strikes, and the western
building was close to collapsing. Even the main structure was showing
significant signs of weakness. The southern third of the west wall was leaning
outward, so far that it looked as if it might topple any moment, and the
northeast corner was so battered that Dainyl could see light halfway down the
stone courses. The southern side would not be nearly so damaged because the
pteridons could not make a southern approach without totally exposing
themselves to the lightcannon, but one intact wall would not hold up an
otherwise collapsing structure.

The
second pteridon in First Company’s third pass lingered above the ridgeline far
too long — and another explosion of blue flame filled the west side of the
ridge.

Dainyl’s
eyes flicked back to the east, where the lightcannon had swung, as if the
Myrmidon aiming it had decided that a Seventh Company pteridon might attempt to
push the limits of an attack while the lightcannon was still focused westward.

The
lightcannon struck just as the pteridon had released its boulder, and the stone
absorbed the energy, one side melted into an instant glaze.

Dainyl
stared for a moment. From what he could tell, both pteridon and rider had
survived. He shook his head. They had been extraordinarily fortunate — unlike
those destroyed by the lightcannon earlier.

The
sun was getting close to the top of the higher peaks of the Coast Range, and
Dainyl could sense that pteridons and Myrmidons were getting tired — and
sloppy. And that could only lead to more costly casualties.

From
his viewpoint, with the real troubles yet to come, he needed to minimize
casualties as much as possible, and he doubted that his failure to close the
Soupat Table and destroy all the Ifryn refugees was causing that many
additional problems elsewhere. Even if it were, there wasn’t much else he could
do besides what he was doing.

Whether
the Duarches and the High Alector would understand that was another question.

He
dashed from behind cover and to the back side of the ridge, raising his jacket,
and waving it, then firing the lightcutter. It was time — if not past time — to
call off the attacks for the day.

Mykel
sat and looked at the battered wood of the writing desk in the study, then
looked up and out through the window at the gray sky, before his eyes dropped
to the blank paper on the desk, useless for him at the moment. Although it was
Duadi, he had decided to wait another few days to send a report to Colonel
Herolt. His arm was immobilized in a splintlike dressing that left him unable
to write. If he did dictate a report for Rhystan to draft, he wanted to report
that while his shoulder had been injured, he was on the way to recovery.
Another reason was that he had little to report, except that the Reillies and
Squawts were likely to pose a threat, but had not yet moved, and that the
threat from the sandwolves and sanders had increased slightly. “Majer?”

Mykel
looked up at the ranker standing in the door. “Got something for you, sir.” The
Cadmian’s hands were empty.

“Yes?”

“It’s
outside, sir, at the gates. One of the factor’s men said something about half a
silver.”

Mykel
almost laughed. “That’s what they charge if it doesn’t come by sandox.” He had
to fumble with his wallet, because it was on his belt on the right. He hadn’t
thought about that when he’d gotten dressed that morning, not when dressing had
been such an awkward and laborious effort. Finally, he extended a half-silver
coin. “If you’d take care of it.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Shortly,
the ranker reappeared with an envelope and handed it to Mykel.

“Thank
you.” Mykel would have liked to have given him a copper, but that wouldn’t have
done at all, not within a military organization.

“My
pleasure, sir.” The ranker smiled, then inclined his head in respect, and left.

Mykel
looked down at the heavy paper of the envelope, stiff in the fingers of his
left hand. On the front was his name, with the words “Commanding, Third
Battalion, Cadmian Post, Iron Stem” written beneath in a script he did not
recognize. On the back was an ornate seal he recognized, but it was above the
phrase: Amaryk, Factor in Tempre for Seltyr Elbaryk. From Rachyla? But not in
her hand? Or some sort of notice of something ill happening to her?

Mykel
fingered the envelope with his left hand, then transferred it to his right,
barely able to hold the heavy paper of the envelope as he used his belt knife
in his left hand to slit the paper, avoiding breaking the seal. There was an
inside envelope, blank on the exterior, but not sealed. He extracted the single
sheet of paper, opened it, and laid it on the writing desk.

Major
Mykel, I trust that you are recovering from your injuries, severe as they may
have been.

Matters
here in Tempre are proceeding as expected, and Amaryk is proving to be adept in
forging the alliances necessary for commercial prosperity.

As
once noted, daggers have more than two edges.

Mykel
frowned. The handwriting was Rachyla’s, yet she had not signed it. And how had
she known he had been injured, let alone that he was recovering? There was no
way a message could have reached her in time for her to write and send back the
letter.

There
was only one explanation, and that explained all too much. While he could not
sense anything she felt or sensed, despite his Talent, she could sense at least
something of what he felt, and perhaps more. He shivered slightly. How much had
she felt? How much did she know of his feelings for her? Was that why she had
risked touching his hand in Tempre? In the hope he would sense or realize her
feelings? She was sending him messages on two levels — one formal and proper —
and one suggesting a deeper and more personal concern. Did the phrase about
“more than two edges” suggest that his injuries cut her?