Soarer's Choice

  SOARER’S CHOICE

  TOR BOOKS BY L. E. MODESITT, JR.

  THE COREAN CHRONICLES

  Legacies

  Darknesses

  Scepters

  Alector’s Choice

  Cadmian’s Choice

  Soarer’s Choice

  THE SAGA OF RECLUCE

  The Magic of Recluce

  The Towers of the Sunset

  The Magic Engineer

  The Order War

  The Death of Chaos

  Scion of Cyador

  Fall of Angels

  The Chaos Balance

  The White Order

  Colors of Chaos

  Magi’i of Cyador

  Wellspring of Chaos

  Ordermaster

  THE SPELLSONG CYCLE

  The Soprano Sorceress

  The Spellsong War

  Darksong Rising

  The Shadow Sorceress

  Shadowsinger

  THE ECOLITAN MATTER

  Empire & Ecolitan

  (comprising The Ecolitan Operation and The Ecologic Secession)

  Ecolitan Prime

  (comprising The Ecologic Envoy and The Ecolitan Enigma)

  The Forever Hero

  (comprising Dawn for a Distant Earth, The Silent Warrior, and In Endless Twilight)

  Timegod’s World

  (comprising Timediver’s Dawn and The Timegod)

  THE GHOST BOOKS

  Of Tangible Ghosts

  The Ghost of the Revelator

  Ghost of the White Nights

  Ghost of Columbia

  (comprising Of Tangible Ghosts and The Ghost of the Revelator)

  The Hammer of Darkness

  The Green Progression

  The Parafaith War

  Adiamante

  Gravity Dreams

  Octagonal Raven

  Archform: Beauty

  The Ethos Effect

  Flash

  The Eternity Artifact

  The Elysium Commission

  L. E. MODESITT, JR.

  SOARER’S CHOICE

  The Sixth Book of the Corean Chronicles

  For Ben Bova,

  who offered the first opportunity, and the key advice

  ALECTORS OF ACORUS

  KHELARYT

  Duarch of Elcien

  ZELYERT

  High Alector of Justice

  CHEMBRYT

  High Alector of Finance

  ALSERYL

  High Alector of Transport

  SAMIST

  Duarch of Ludar

  RUVRYN

  High Alector of Engineering

  JALORYT

  High Alector of Trade

  ZUTHYL

  High Alector of Education

  BREKYLT

  High Alector of the East [Alustre]

  ASULET

  Senior Alector—Lyterna

  PAEYLT

  Senior Engineer—Lyterna

  SHASTYLT

  Former Marshal of Myrmidons

  DAINYL

  Marshal of Myrmidons—West [Elcien]

  ALCYNA

  Submarshal of Myrmidons—East [Alustre]

  NORYAN

  Majer of Myrmidons, deputy of Alcyna

  LYSTRANA

  Chief Assistant to High Alector of Finance

  Table Cities

  [Recorders of Deeds]

  Elcien [Chastyl]

  Ludar [Puleryt]

  Alustre [Retyl]

  Dereka [Jonyst]

  Lysia [Sulerya]

  Lyterna [Myenfel]

  Tempre [Chyal]

  Hyalt [Rhelyn]

  Soupat [Nomyelt]

  Dulka [Deturyl]

  Norda [Dubaryt]

  Prosp [Noryst]

  Blackstear [Delari]

  Faitel [Techyl]

  Green towers rise against a setting sun,

  proud monuments to choices ill-begun,

  spare spires of eternal stone to stand

  and long imprison spirits of the land.

  Alectors’ choices fell on friends and foes.

  They struck with force, righteousness, and woes.

  Heeded not good or grace when day was done,

  and greater powers had turned stars and sun.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Epilogue

  SOARER’S CHOICE

  1

  Dainyl sat behind the wide desk in the large study in headquarters. On the desk were stacks of reports. To his left on the polished wood was a shorter stack—the immediate orders he had written for the Myrmidons in an effort to undo the worst of his predecessor’s plotting. Outside, the morning sunlight of late harvest warmed the courtyard and the blue-winged pteridons of First Company—those that were not flying dispatches and undertaking other duties. The solid granite of the courtyard and the walls sparkled in the bright sun, clean and crisp.

  He’d permanently reassigned the Seventh Company of Myrmidons to Tempre from Dulka to keep them from being suborned by Quivaryt, the regional alector in Dulka, and clearly the tool of Brekylt, the Alector of the East in Alustre. After that had come the cover letter forwarding copies of Dainyl’s appointme
nt as marshal to each of the eight Myrmidon companies spread across Corus. Beside those lay the draft of his report on what he had done to quash the “revolt” in Hyalt and Tempre. Of course, he couldn’t tell the entire story, because his superior, the High Alector of Justice, the most honorable Zelyert, had firmly ordered him to treat the matter as a local revolt, rather than the first thrust of a conspiracy masterminded by Brekylt. To make matters worse, and more delicate, Dainyl suspected that Brekylt was being quietly urged on by Samist, the Duarch of Ludar.

  Dainyl looked up from the various papers and back out through the window at the nearest pteridon in the courtyard behind the headquarters building, standing on its wide raised stone square and stretching its blue leathery wings. The long crystalline beak glittered in the sunlight. After a moment, Dainyl’s eyes dropped back to the papers before him.

  Despite the proclamation that lay on his table desk and the green-edged gold stars on the collars of his blue and gray shimmersilk uniform that attested to his rank, Dainyl still didn’t feel like the Marshal of Myrmidons.

  Add to that the fact that he was dreading the translation trip to Alustre, but the longer he waited, the more dangerous the situation became, and it wasn’t something he could delegate. For one thing, he didn’t have anyone to whom he could delegate the task. He’d been the submarshal in Elcien, and Colonel Dhenyr, who had been the Myrmidon operations director, had attempted to kill Dainyl when Dainyl had discovered Dhenyr’s treachery. Dainyl was the only senior officer left in headquarters. The other submarshal, Alcyna, was stationed in Alustre, the width of the continent away. For years, she had directed Myrmidon operations in the east, and she was one of the reasons Dainyl had to go to Alustre—and before long.

  He took a deep breath and reached for the next document on the top of the taller pile. In less than a glass, he was due at the Palace of the Duarch in Elcien, to meet with Duarch Khelaryt to brief him personally on all that had happened in Hyalt and Tempre. He assumed that he would also be asked for his plans for the Myrmidons. That possibility worried him far more than explaining the past, because he doubted that it would be wise to reveal the reasons behind what he planned until he had a better idea of what the Duarch—and those around him—already knew.

  Still, he needed to finish catching up on the other Myrmidon and Cadmian operations, or as many as he could, before he met with the Duarch. He began to read the report from Colonel Herolt, commander of the First Regiment, Cadmian Mounted Rifles.

  When he finished, Dainyl couldn’t help but frown. Except for Second Battalion, every battalion in the First Regiment was understrength, and the colonel was reporting that matters were worsening. And why in the Archon’s name had a battalion been sent to Soupat? The mines there were marginal. At least he thought so, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask Lystrana. As a chief assistant in the Palace of the Duarch, his wife might know the trade and finance background.

  Slowly, he got up and headed for the records chamber.

  Doselt, the squad leader in charge of records, then jumped to his feet. “Yes, Marshal?”

  “Would you find me the records of and the orders to the First Cadmian Regiment that deal with the deployment of its Sixth Battalion to Soupat last season?”

  “It might take a bit, sir.”

  “Just bring them to me. If I’m not here, leave them on the corner of my desk.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dainyl moved down the corridor to see if Captain Ghasylt was in his study. Dainyl needed some help, and he needed it now. Ghasylt might be out in the courtyard—he spent more time flying or with the pteridons than did many company commanders. Dainyl was fortunate. The captain was standing by his desk, holding a report, looking at it quizzically.

  He dropped it on the table. “Sir?”

  “Ghasylt…you know that we have no operations director…”

  “Yes, sir.” Ghasylt swallowed. “No, sir.”

  “No, sir?” Dainyl couldn’t help smiling.

  “I’m a flier, sir. I can’t do operations and scheduling and paperwork.”

  “Your reports are excellent,” Dainyl pointed out.

  “That’s because I don’t do them. Undercaptain Zernylta does. She has for years.”

  Dainyl laughed. “I might steal her, then.”

  “She writes well, sir. I’d hate to lose her, but she’d do better than I would.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s on the dispatch run from Ludar. She won’t be back until late.”

  “Would you leave word that I would like to see her?”

  “Yes, sir.” Ghasylt sounded disconsolate.

  “If she works out, she won’t get jumped three ranks to colonel,” Dainyl said. “She’ll be a captain and assistant operations director.” Of course, there might not be an operations director for a while, but Dainyl needed the job done. “And you could still make majer…without doing much paperwork.” He grinned. “If you can find another undercaptain who can write.”

  “Ghanyr’s not bad. Chelysta’s nearly as good as Zernylta, but don’t steal her. She’s the best squad leader in the air.”

  Dainyl made a mental note to jot that down when he got back to his study. He could never tell when he might need another good company commander. He’d also have to check on Ghasylt. He might be able to promote him to majer anyway. The commanding officer of the Elcien company probably ought to be one, and Dainyl needed a good flying commander and loyalty as much as he needed an operations officer. “I appreciate the information, and even more, I appreciate your honesty and loyalty. These days, it means a great deal.”

  Although Ghasylt’s expression remained politely attentive, Dainyl sensed the concealed surprise—and gratitude.

  “We need to talk, before too long, about what may lie ahead for you and First Company.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dainyl nodded, then turned and headed back toward his study. He didn’t make it.

  “The duty coach is ready, sir!” That was Undercaptain Yuasylt, the duty officer.

  “I’ll be there in a moment.” Dainyl paused. There was nothing he really needed in his study. He turned and headed toward the archway to the front entrance.

  Outside, waiting with the coach, was Wyalt. As always, the duty driver had a smile on his face when Dainyl strode out of headquarters. “Good morning, Marshal.”

  “Good morning, Wyalt. The Duarch’s Palace.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dainyl stepped up into the coach and closed the door.

  Once the coach began to move, he concentrated on how best to brief the Duarch. Some of that would depend on whether Khelaryt wanted a private briefing or one that included other High Alectors.

  As the duty coach neared the Duarch’s Palace, Dainyl looked out at Elcien, a city built on an isle, of stone and tile and gardens and trees, orderly and vibrant, with stone-walled dwellings set on tree-lined streets, shops with their perfect tile roofs set around market squares that held everything produced on Acorus. Goods shipped from across the world flowed from the wharves and docks on the southern shore into endless warehouses and to everyone in Elcien, alectors and landers alike.

  His eyes lingered on the twin green towers flanking the Palace, soaring into the silver-green sky, gleaming and glittering in the midmorning sunlight, symbolically crowning the accomplishments of the alectors of Acorus, who had turned a freezing and dying world into a place of life and achievement. Even as he marveled at the towers, Dainyl recalled the words of the ancient soarer. You must change, or you will die. That seemed so unlikely, yet the ancient had been so certain…and so melancholy in saying those words.

  The coach slowed and came to a halt under the portico at the main entrance to the Duarch’s Palace. Dainyl stepped out.

  “I’ll be waiting for you, sir,” Wyalt called down from the driver’s seat.

  Dainyl almost told him to return to headquarters because others might need him, but cut off the words before he spoke. There wasn’t anyone there who wou
ld need the coach, not without a submarshal or an operations director. “Thank you. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

  “I’ll be here, sir.”

  Dainyl made his way in through the archway, past the pair of guards armed with lightcutter sidearms. He did not recall the slender alector who met him inside the main foyer of the Palace, although his face was vaguely familiar, but it was clear that the functionary knew Dainyl.

  “Marshal, the Duarch is ready to see you. If you would accompany me.” He turned down the high-ceilinged hallway, flanked by goldenstone marble columns that led to the east wing of the Palace.

  The hall was floored with the traditional octagonal tiles of green marble, linked by smaller diamond tiles of gold marble, and dark green velvet hangings between the goldenstone columns were trimmed in gold. The sound of Dainyl’s boots hitting the octagonal-and diamond-shaped marble floor tiles was lost in the expanse of the corridor.