With the usual suddenness that ended all translations, the silver barrier seemed to flash toward Dainyl, hurling him through it.
Dainyl stood on yet another Table in another windowless chamber. He had made the translation so swiftly that only the slightest hint of frost had appeared on his flying jacket and uniform, before vanishing.
Dainyl held his Talent shields, but the pair of guards in black and silver uniforms waiting and watching did not even move as he descended from the Table. Unlike the Table chamber in Elcien, a set of black-and-silver-bordered hangings adorned the walls, and each hanging contained a scene featuring an alector. A long black chest stood against the wall opposite the single entrance—a square arch, in which a solid oak door was set, and on each side of which sat a guard.
A younger alector in the purple-trimmed green of a Recorder of Deeds stepped forward. “Marshal Dainyl, welcome to Alustre. We had not expected you, but you are more than welcome anytime. I am Retyl, Zorater’s successor.” Behind Retyl’s modest shields lay apprehension.
“Thank you, Retyl.” Dainyl smiled politely. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness. As a dutiful recorder, I’m more than certain that you will do your best to maintain the stability of the grid, unlike the late recorder in Hyalt.”
“Absolutely, sir.”
Dainyl could read the consternation behind the calm expression on Retyl’s face, but only continued to smile as he walked to the chamber door.
On each side of the arch in the hallway outside were another pair of alectors, also wearing black and silver uniforms. They did not speak as Dainyl departed, walking to the end of the corridor and up the stairs to the main level.
From there, he took the main corridor leading to the west portico. The passageway was floored in a shimmering silver-gray marble, the octagonal tiles outlined with thin strips of black marble. Silver-and-black-bordered hangings decorated the walls. The portico was not paved in marble, but white granite, and the columns were smooth circular white granite pillars.
Dainyl had not expected a duty coach to be waiting, and indeed, one was not. While he waited, he occasionally looked at the residence and headquarters of the High Alector of the East. It was a long and solid white granite structure, with three stories showing above ground level and two wings angling from the central rectangular core, and the stone sparkled in the late-morning sun. He also looked at the cloudy sky, hoping that it didn’t rain before he found transportation.
He had to wait a quarter of a glass before a free hack arrived, but the indigen driver was more than pleased.
“The Myrmidon compound? Yes, sir. Be half a silver.”
“That’s fine.” Dainyl swung up into the coach.
As the coach carried him away from the parklike grounds surrounding the residence and along the divided boulevard that ran from the hilltop residence overlooking Alustre itself to the ring road that encircled the main sections of the city, Dainyl considered what lay ahead of him. Alcyna was supposed to be in Alustre, but whether she was or not…that was another question. Still, the last thing he would have wanted to do was to announce when he was arriving.
After a time, he looked out at Alustre, a city far more spread out than either Elcien or Ludar. The sole compact area was around the wharves, packed with warehouses and factorages. Most of Alustre stretched east of the river and north of Fiere Sound.
The walled eastern Myrmidon headquarters dominated the larger bluff east of the city proper and overlooked both the river and the ocean, but the driver pulled up outside the gates, since no non-alectors were permitted within.
Dainyl got out, handed the driver a half silver and three coppers, and walked through the unguarded gates toward the headquarters building, also constructed of perfectly cut and fitted white granite, with blackish green roof tiles.
The duty officer bolted into the entry corridor within moments after Dainyl stepped through the arched doorway into the building.
“Marshal Dainyl…” There was a long pause. “Sir…no one knew.”
Dainyl had met her before, but her name escaped him. “No one was supposed to know.” He smiled politely. “Is the submarshal in? In her study.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Thank you.” With that, holding full Talent shields, he turned down the corridor, his boots clicking faintly on the green marble, and walked to the very end of the hallway, where he stepped through the open door into Alcyna’s study, a space a good third larger than his spaces as marshal in Elcien.
As before, not that he would have expected any change, the walls were bare except for a single depiction of the city of Alustre—in black ink on white paper and framed in black and silver. Alcyna glanced up from the wide ebony table desk and froze—if for only a moment.
Then she laughed. “Marshal…you have just demonstrated why you succeeded Shastylt.”
Dainyl had to admire her recovery. He doubted that he could possibly have made such a rapid adjustment. “And you have proved why my trip here is both worthwhile and necessary.” He gestured at the circular ebony conference table, with five wooden armchairs set around it, all finished in silver. “If you would join me.”
Alcyna rose gracefully from behind the table desk. “How could I refuse such a request?”
Dainyl seated himself so that he had a view of both the Sound through the wide south window and of the still open door. “I believe I said this before, but you do have a lovely view of the Sound.”
“It is lovely.” Alcyna took the other side of the table, from where she could watch him and the doorway as well. “Might I ask why you are here, sir?”
“To offer you your due—as submarshal in Elcien and as my designated successor.”
“Marshal Dainyl, you’re more devious than Shastylt.” She laughed, and her laugh remained warm, so at odds with the coldness he sensed within her. “And I thought you were so simple.”
“I’m very simple, Alcyna. I don’t want you plotting against me. The best way to assure that is to give you what you want. You want power. You also want some assurance that you won’t be removed or cast aside. I’m the most trustworthy alector you’ll ever find, so long as you don’t plot against me.” He shrugged. “You’re also extremely good at organization and delegation. There isn’t anyone better left in the Myrmidons. I need that excellence. Despite the situation here, you can do better, and with less risk.”
Alcyna just looked at Dainyl.
He let her Talent probes wash over him.
Abruptly, she straightened slightly in her chair. “How did you manage Hyalt?”
“As well as I could.”
“Seventh Company, I meant.”
“Simple. I took out Veluara, and then Klynd, and then Weltak, and disarmed Lyzetta, and threatened to take them all out, one at a time.”
“As a passenger?”
“No. Once Rhelyn’s men killed one of the Fifth Company Myrmidons, I took it.”
“A High Alector flying and leading a company…I doubt that’s ever happened.”
“There wasn’t much choice if I wanted to stop Myrmidon from fighting Myrmidon.”
“If…if I accepted the position in Elcien, who would you name as submarshal here?”
“I’d thought Noryan. Do you have a better idea?”
Alcyna nodded slowly. “Why are you doing this?”
“I told you.”
“There’s more.”
“There is. Ifryn is far closer to collapse than people know. Without a united Myrmidon command, matters will be far worse. Personal allegiances will change like the wind, as one High Alector or another finds his allies have other needs.”
“Do you trust Zelyert?”
Dainyl had considered that, long and hard, but what he felt wasn’t necessarily what he wanted to answer. “He is my superior. So long as he follows the Code and his responsibilities as High Alector of Justice, I see no reason not to trust him.”
“Sir, that’s scarcely an enthusiastic endorsement.”
“
I find, Alcyna, that I have become far less enthusiastic in recent times.”
“When do you want me in Elcien?”
“Tomorrow, or as soon after as you can manage.” Dainyl withdrew the envelope with her name written on it. “Here is your appointment.” He took out the second envelope. “Here is Noryan’s. If you would tender it to him…I do not intend to remain long in Alustre, and he owes the appointment to your training and supervision.”
“What would you have done if I had declined?”
“Torn them up.”
“I should be able to manage arriving in Elcien by next Duadi. It will take a few days to brief Noryan—especially since he will have to fly here from Norda.”
Dainyl smiled. “Is Brekylt here in Alustre?”
“He actually is. He hasn’t been using the Tables as much recently. You seem to be one of the few High Alectors who is unworried by all the instability. Do you plan to see him?”
“I had thought to convey your promotion, and that of Majer Noryan, to him personally.”
“You think he will react in a way similar to Kelbryt?” Alcyna’s words were casual.
“One never knows, but I’d be most surprised.”
“We can walk out, and I’ll make sure Undercaptain Bryanda summons the duty coach.”
“She’s from Ifryn, too, isn’t she?”
“Of course. As you are discovering, Acorus has too small a number of alectors to supply the intelligence and ambition for all the leadership needs.” Alcyna stood.
“I can see that, but how could you be sure that you got the best from Ifryn?” Dainyl rose, his attention on her.
“I can’t answer that, sir, but if I had to speculate, I’d guess that the worst were sent to other duties and locales.”
Dainyl held in a shudder. Alcyna and Brekylt had basically culled the survivors of the unauthorized translations from Ifryn, taking the best for the Myrmidons, and sending the others to Hyalt and Dulka as disposable troops—and Dainyl had conveniently disposed of half of them.
“How else would things have worked out as they did?” she asked. “It did force Zelyert and Khelaryt to accept your abilities, and that wouldn’t have happened otherwise.”
“They didn’t have any choices left,” Dainyl replied. “Shastylt was trying to blame you and me for staging a coup. I think he may even have contacted Brekylt.”
For another brief moment, something too quick to identify flashed behind Alcyna’s shields. She spoke quickly, but softly. “Your meeting with Brekylt will be interesting.” She walked toward the doorway and the corridor beyond.
Dainyl joined her, and the two walked without speaking for a moment, as Alcyna gestured to Undercaptain Bryanda, who smiled and nodded back. “Bryanda already has the duty coach waiting for you.”
“As with so many of your officers, she’s perceptive.”
“Now that Dhenyr has…departed, I imagine yours in the west are also perceptive.”
“That could be.”
“Brekylt will be relieved to see you come to Elcien, I suspect,” offered Dainyl as they neared the entry foyer.
“He may at that. Or he may surprise you.”
“I’m rarely surprised,” Dainyl said wryly. “I don’t know enough to create expectations, and surprise comes from having one’s expectations upset.”
“That may be one of your great strengths, Marshal, because it is so rare among alectors.”
“The illusion of alector impartiality,” he said with a laugh, stepping through the archway and out toward the duty coach. He did not recognize the driver. Granyn had already become a flier, and perhaps Olyssa had as well.
He stopped short of the coach and turned. “I’ll expect you on Septi.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be there.”
Dainyl could sense, perhaps for the first time in dealing with Alcyna, what amounted to a feeling of respect. That worried him more than her past attitude of near-contempt, because it suggested matters were even worse than he’d thought. He nodded and stepped up into the coach.
On the ride back to the eastern residence, he considered the possibilities for dealing with Brekylt, but the only one that made sense was the polite and direct approach. Dainyl had never been good at intrigue and playing people off against each other, and now was no time to start.
Dainyl stepped out of the carriage on the upper drive of the residence.
“Marshal, sir, would you like me to wait?” asked the driver.
“No, thank you.” One way or another, it wouldn’t be necessary.
He turned toward the entrance, noting that one of the guards in black and silver had vanished, but that mystery resolved itself when the guard reappeared almost instantly with an alectress. Dainyl had never seen her, but the darker purple sheen of her aura told him all too clearly that she was a recent arrival from Ifryn, despite her shimmering silver and black uniform.
“Is the High Alector expecting you, Marshal?” She bowed deferentially.
“I’m certain that he is not, but then, I could be wrong.” Dainyl laughed politely. “He will wish to see me.”
“Yes, sir. I have no doubts about that. If you will follow me…he is in his study.”
Dainyl walked beside the alectress along the colonnade and past two lander guards in black and silver stationed before the vaulted archway. The guard on the left opened one of the double doors for the two. As Dainyl recalled, she continued through a high-ceilinged entry hall that held black marble columns spaced at four-yard intervals along the white walls. The floor of the entry hall was composed of black octagons set in white granite. Beyond the entry hall, the corridor narrowed, and at the end was another set of golden oak double doors, guarded by a young alectress in the black and silver.
“Coromyn, if you will inform the High Alector that Marshal Dainyl is here.”
“One moment, Marshal, if you will.” The guard slipped through the door, returning within moments. “The High Alector will be pleased to see you immediately.” She held the door open.
Dainyl walked through the door alone, seeking anything untoward with his Talent-senses and raising full Talent shields. He took the archway to the right and the next hallway to the first doorway on the left. The door to Brekylt’s study was open, and Dainyl entered.
The inner wall of the study was lined with shelves of books, while the shelves on the outer wall were limited to narrow stretches between the floor-to-ceiling windows, except in the middle of the wall, where there was a set of open double doors.
Brekylt sat behind the table desk before the full wall of books and gestured to the two armchairs in front of his desk. “Please do have a seat, Marshal.”
“Thank you.” Dainyl eased into the armchair on the left.
“What brings you to Alustre? Certainly not your health.” Brekylt’s wide and expressive mouth offered a wry expression that was not quite a smile.
“Myrmidon matters. I find that I have little time for anything else.”
“Ah, yes. When are you planning to return Seventh Company to Dulka?”
“Not for a while. There appears to be a need for the Myrmidons in Tempre.”
“I must congratulate you on your handling of that minor uprising in Hyalt.”
“Thank you.”
“I don’t believe you mentioned why you were here.”
“Since I was in Alustre on other matters, I thought I would pay a courtesy call on the Alector of the East. It seemed only fitting.”
“Dainyl,” said Brekylt with a single laugh, “you do nothing without purpose. That might be your greatest weakness.”
“I am certain that I have others.” Dainyl offered a faint smile in return. “As you may know, there is currently no submarshal of Myrmidons in Elcien. Since the most able and qualified individual for that position is here in Alustre, I came here to offer the position to her, and I am fortunate that she agreed to accept. Noryan will replace her as submarshal here.”
Only the slightest hint of a pause suggested any thoug
ht considered by Brekylt. “That is interesting.”
“Necessary, as I am sure that you understand. It’s similar in a fashion to gardening.”
“I’m certain you had hoped that I would attempt something foolish, Marshal. I assure you that I will not. At my advanced age one learns which battles to fight, and I will leave you to fight those you must.” He smiled. “Now that you are marshal, you will find there are more than you ever believed possible.”
“That is something I’ve already discovered.”
“Do you really think you can manage Alcyna?”
“No. I have never had that illusion.”
“Then why…?”
“I need excellence even more than loyalty, Brekylt, especially in these times.”
“You will pay a high price for that excellence.”
“Excellence always has a high price, as does everything of value, according to what I have seen, as well as the Views of the Highest.” What Dainyl didn’t say was that the price for not paying for excellence, in some fashion, was even higher.
“You quote the Archon well, Marshal.”
“It is a useful skill.” Dainyl smiled and inclined his head. “I had not meant to take any more of your time, but I did not wish for you to find out about these changes in the Myrmidons from anyone else.”
“I do appreciate your courtesy, Dainyl, and you are always welcome in Alustre.”
“Thank you.” Dainyl stood and bowed slightly.
He held his shields at full strength all the way back down to the Table chamber.
7
Retyl bowed as Dainyl stepped into the Table chamber in Alustre. “Marshal, we wish you the best.”
Dainyl doubted that, but he only smiled as he stepped up onto the Table. “Thank you.” While he wanted to get back to Elcien quickly, he held his shields, even as he concentrated and…
…slipped through the Table and into the blackness beneath—where he found himself in a turbulence that he’d never encountered before. The entire translation tube felt as though it were undulating its entire unmeasurable length, rippling from a nexus of green somewhere beyond the tube and near—yet lost in the distance. For all that, the blackness beneath the purple darkness of the tube seemed unmoving.
Soarer's Choice Page 5