Soarer's Choice

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “I think you were telling me that Marshal Dainyl was better than his predecessor.” Rhystan raised his eyebrows.

  “Well…” Mykel drew out the word. “He did put us in charge from the start.”

  “When do we leave?”

  “Immediately. We’d better plan on Tridi morning. We’ll take all the wagons and as many supplies as we can. We’re to ride to Tempre and take barges upriver to Dekhron. Have you been there?”

  “Years back. It gets cold in the winter, and the women aren’t that friendly. The miners don’t like anyone, and the holders north of Iron Stem are wealthy and arrogant. The garrison there isn’t that big, either. Oh, and the air stinks from the ironworks.”

  “You’re so cheerful, Rhystan.”

  “I’m only telling you what to expect, sir.”

  “I know. That doesn’t even take into account the problems we’re being sent to fix.” Mykel had no doubts as to why Third Battalion was being sent. None at all, but he couldn’t very well tell anyone, either, although Rhystan would certainly suspect those reasons. “We’d better tell the undercaptains, and see what supplies we can get from the locals.”

  Rhystan nodded as Mykel picked up the orders and tucked them into his leather case.

  19

  Dainyl looked at the message from the High Alector of Justice again, reading over the key phrases.

  …all unnecessary uses of resources by Myrmidon companies and associated units and activities should be deferred or minimized to the greatest extent possible…Likewise, use of pteridons and skylances should be restricted as much as possible to allow lifeforce on Acorus to increase in the immediate seasons ahead….

  Zelyert was all but admitting that the transfer of the Master Scepter was imminent, but that he didn’t know exactly when it might occur. He folded the note, then laid it on the floor, extending a flash of Talent. Only fine ash remained.

  His eyes drifted to the window, closed against the cold and damp wind blowing in out of the northwest. Londi had been warm enough, but from early on Duadi morning, the day had gotten progressively colder. Now, by midafternoon, high dark clouds had appeared in the west, and outside it was positively chill.

  As he watched, a pteridon alighted on the flight stage. The flier carried a dispatch pouch, which she handed to Sharua. The duty messenger hurried toward headquarters, the wind blowing her hair around her face. Shortly, there was a knock on Dainyl’s door.

  “Marshal, sir, there’s a dispatch from Captain Lyzetta. It came in marked urgent.”

  “Bring it in, Sharua.” The last thing Dainyl needed was another urgent problem, especially one from Lyzetta.

  The new duty messenger practically tiptoed into Dainyl’s study, handed him the thin envelope, and quickly retreated, even before Dainyl could finish saying, “Thank you.”

  He opened the envelope and began to read.

  Marshal—

  I felt you should know about some other matters, as well as the progress of the rebuilding efforts. Rains have been extremely heavy for late harvest, and for some reason, the water level of the River Vedra has risen suddenly. East of Dekhron, the River Vedra is at flood stage already. The bridge at Emal has been destroyed. So have the barge piers at Dekhron. The late field crops in the area north of the River Vyana may all be lost.

  We have completed all of the initial transport required by the engineers, and all of the material and equipment was first carried to Tempre. We have since made some ten trips to Hyalt, and another ten remain. The engineers are asking for a pteridon to make small equipment flights every other day. Seventh Company can do so, but I told the engineer in charge that continuing flights would have to be approved by the marshal…

  I would also note in passing that, as you instructed, I conveyed the orders for Third Battalion to Majer Mykel personally and relieved the Cadmians of the duty of guarding the perimeter around the regional alector’s compound. The majer is highly skilled, and if not for his lander heritage, might well pass for an alector in all his capabilities, and I thought you would best be able to decide how to deal with his future assignments in that light.

  Dainyl shook his head at the last paragraph. He would have to write an acknowledgment to Lyzetta, along with the background of the majer’s next assignment. When he had promoted her to commanding officer, he had not realized her parentage, and that might have been for the best, but it was likely to cause additional problems for him in the troubled times ahead.

  He took out paper and began to write, while he still had a few moments before something else transpired.

  Captain Lyzetta—

  I appreciate your dispatch and thorough report. You may supply pteridon transport to the engineers for another two weeks on an every other day basis. If more use of Seventh Company pteridons than that is required, please inform me, and I will take the matter up with the High Alector of Justice.

  In regard to the other matter you mentioned, and for which I appreciate your diligence, Third Battalion is being transferred to Iron Stem to deal with certain problems created by the ancients, including the loss of more than half of the Fourth Battalion, Cadmian Mounted Rifles. I am certain that the majer’s capabilities will prove useful in that unsettled locale. If necessary, and assuming that he has some success there, we will review his future options.

  Dainyl remained torn about the majer. Talented landers were a great danger, and should be eliminated, but the unspoken policy did not indicate an absolute timing, and he did owe his life to the majer. Since the majer was in the field, and since he had neither wife nor any apparent close female ties, he was thus less likely to have offspring immediately. If Zelyert discovered the majer’s abilities, and that seemed unlikely immediately, Dainyl could justify using Majer Mykel’s Talent against the creatures of the ancients, rather than risking Myrmidons far from Elcien. Lyzetta’s indirect communications with her father might be a greater danger, and that was why Dainyl had taken pains to spell out his rationale to a junior Myrmidon captain.

  Because Dainyl needed to inform both the Duarch and High Alector Zelyert about the loss of the iron and coal loading piers in Dekhron, he immediately drafted a short message. While it would have been easier to send a copy of Lyzetta’s message directly to them, he did not wish the second part of the message going anywhere. Quickly, he finished both copies. While he could have asked Doselt, the administrative clerk, to copy the second one, Dainyl could write out a second copy in less time than it would have taken to explain what he wanted.

  With both copies in hand, he then headed to the administrative spaces.

  “Doselt?”

  “Yes, sir?” The squad leader jumped to his feet.

  “Here are two reports. They need to go to High Alector Zelyert and the Duarch immediately. Please take care of it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dainyl also needed to talk with Alcyna to discover what she had found out about the troubles in Eastice and to update her on the Table repairs. He turned from the records room and walked back down the corridor to Alcyna’s study. Her door was ajar.

  “Alcyna?” He stepped inside, but did not bother to close the door.

  She looked up, then stood. “Yes, sir?”

  He motioned for her to sit down and took the chair across from the desk that had once been his. “Have you found out anything new about what happened to the Cadmians in Eastice?”

  “Some, sir. I went to the Hall of Justice, and had the recorder show me the site in the Table. A whole chunk of the cliff did give way. Chastyl pointed out that there were some silvery-green sparkles in the image, and that suggested the use of Talent. The green component…”

  “The ancients helped it happen,” Dainyl said.

  “That would be my judgment. It was Chastyl’s as well.”

  Dainyl fingered his chin. “I could see it if they had attacked Myrmidons—or engineers—but why the Cadmians? They’re no threat to the ancients.”

  “What are you doing with the Cadmians, sir? Where are y
ou sending Third Battalion?”

  Dainyl laughed ironically. “You’re suggesting that they’re sending a message—that the Cadmians can’t stand up to them. Is that a tactic to make us use Myrmidons?” He frowned. “It well could be. They don’t operate far from higher locales.”

  “That would be my best guess,” replied Alcyna.

  “We’ll have to see, then.”

  “You intend to wait and see what Majer Mykel can do? He’s the one who handled the rebel alectors, is he not?”

  “He is.”

  “It’s said that he can recognize Talent and avoid it.”

  Dainyl wondered where she’d picked that up. It certainly wasn’t in any of the records, but then, Alcyna had probably been the one to suborn the late Colonel Dhenyr, and she doubtless had her own sources. “He has some abilities, and he is a good, if not an excellent, field commander. It seemed prudent, in many respects, to send him and Third Battalion to Iron Stem. We will have to see what happens.” He paused, then continued. “We haven’t any updates on the Sixth Battalion in Soupat, either. Oh…and Captain Lyzetta just sent a message saying that the River Vedra is flooding in Emal and Dekhron. That may cause some delays in getting Third Battalion to the Iron Valleys. It will likely also cause delays in getting coke and iron to Faitel. I’ve taken steps to inform the Highest and the Duarch.”

  “You think the ancients know you’re sending the Cadmians?”

  “They might. It also might not matter to them. They could have their own agenda directly aimed at us.”

  “How intelligent are they, Marshal?”

  “I would judge they are highly intelligent. At one time, they had a city where Dereka now stands, and they built the aqueduct to serve it. They created metals that are as hard as anything we can forge. They can destroy pteridons.”

  “Then why do they not control Acorus?” Alcyna’s question mirrored curiosity, rather than exhibiting challenge.

  “I would guess that they do not have many offspring and that they could not increase their numbers quickly when we began to warm the world. We also had the indigens to help.”

  “You’re worried, aren’t you?”

  “I have to say that I am,” Dainyl admitted. “The flooding and the cliff have to be their doing. The rains aren’t heavy enough to create those floods by themselves, not in fall. And I don’t like the possibility that they stole the skylances from Fifth Company in Dereka.”

  “You honestly think that?”

  “It’s a real likelihood. The lances are useless without a pteridon. That’s why Rhelyn built lightcannon.”

  “But why…”

  “What if they wanted to analyze them?” asked Dainyl.

  Alcyna was silent for several moments. Then she said, “You’ve been studying the ancients, haven’t you?”

  “As I can,” Dainyl replied. That was certainly truthful, if misleading. He stood. “Whenever you find out what’s happened to Sixth Battalion, let me know.”

  Alcyna nodded.

  Dainyl smiled pleasantly, then turned and left her study.

  20

  When Third Battalion had arrived in Tempre late on Novdi afternoon, Captain Lyzetta had immediately informed Mykel that the River Vedra was running too high and too turbulently for safe barge transport for the battalion, but that the water levels were expected to drop to near normal within the next few days. For that reason, Third Battalion would be staying at the compound with Seventh Company. Certainly, there was enough space. The compound had been built to hold more than a battalion of Alector’s Guards, and a Myrmidon company only had twenty-one alectors, and the pteridons did not use the stables.

  Even so, Mykel didn’t like the idea of spending too much time around the captain. She did not have the Talent-strength that Submarshal—Marshal, Mykel corrected himself—Dainyl had, but Mykel suspected she was every bit as sharp. Still, there was little enough he could do about it.

  On Londi, a glass after morning muster, Mykel crossed the compound courtyard, the cool breeze out of the northwest ruffling hair that needed to be cut. He’d just completed an informal inspection of the stables and the barracks and was enjoying the hazy sunshine and cooler weather in Tempre, a relief after the hot harvest days in Hyalt.

  “Majer!” called Captain Lyzetta, stepping into view several yards ahead of him.

  “Captain,” returned Mykel pleasantly, tightening his shields and walking toward the tall alectress, stopping a yard or so short of her.

  “I thought you would like to know that it’s likely the river will return to close to normal levels within the next two days. Our scouts have observed that the rains have stopped and the stream levels to the east are dropping quickly. Submarshal Alcyna sent word that you should expect to embark on the barges at noon on Tridi.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad to know that.” Mykel had no idea who Submarshal Alcyna was, except that the name indicated an alectress was Dainyl’s successor as Myrmidon submarshal. “We’ve appreciated your hospitality while we’ve been delayed.”

  The captain smiled. “You were the one who turned the compound over to us in such excellent condition.”

  “We did the best we could on short notice.”

  “It was appreciated. Our move to Tempre was also on rather short notice.” She paused, then asked, “You were with the marshal in Dramur, weren’t you?”

  “All of Third Battalion was, Captain.”

  “How did the difficulties in Tempre compare to those in Dramur?”

  Mykel smiled, as pleasantly as he could. “You can’t compare them. They were very different deployments. In Dramur we faced large numbers of local troopers, who had been hidden from both Cadmian and alector authorities, as well as a number of escaped rebellious miners. All had Cadmian rifles obtained in a manner against the Code. The actual fighting went on for close to two seasons. We were outnumbered, but better trained. The real fighting in Hyalt and Tempre was very brief. In Hyalt, Third Battalion was only slightly involved, primarily for scouting and perimeter patrols. In Tempre, we were attacked by a group of mounted guards who were of equal numbers and weapons. Their training was inferior, and we prevailed. Later, when we were guarding the regional complex”—Mykel nodded to the west—“we were attacked by rebel alectors with superior weapons but lesser numbers. We lost two squads in less than several glasses, but we had position, marksmanship, and numbers, and more ammunition, and in the end we reclaimed the building for the rightful administrators.”

  “We have not seen any trace of those armed Alector’s Guards,” Lyzetta said. “Could you tell me why that might be?”

  “We killed over two-thirds of them, and the others scattered. Since having such a Guard is against the Code, and since the regional alector who created them did not return, I imagine that none of us will see the survivors. Not in uniform.”

  “Did you surprise them? Is it not unusual to gain such an overwhelming victory with equally sized forces?”

  “Actually, Captain, they attempted a predawn attack. Most of my men were sleeping. We had less than half a glass notice.”

  Lyzetta nodded politely. “I won’t keep you. Good day, Majer.” She stepped back.

  “Good day.” Mykel was equally polite and pleasant, then continued across the courtyard to his quarters, where he intended to finish his report to Colonel Herolt because the sandox coach came through Tempre on Duadi morning.

  As he made his way to the visiting officers’ quarters, Mykel pondered about the alectress captain. He could sense that she was intensely curious about him, as well as extremely wary and polite, and that she seemed to study him. He had not felt any Talent probes, but she merely might be waiting to catch him off guard.

  Once back in his quarters, he used the small writing desk to finish a brief report to the colonel, brief because, fortunately, the battalion had seen no action. After that, he found his eyes going to the narrow window and his thoughts elsewhere.

  Should he pay a call on Rachyla? How could he, after giving her th
e dagger of the ancients? Yet…He shook his head. One fact was simple. He wanted to see her. The other fact was that he didn’t know what to do about her. He’d gone over their previous conversations and meetings, and it seemed as if she held two entirely different views of him. At times, she had been pleasant and at other times, sardonic and distant. Yet she had been truly concerned when he had been wounded, both in Dramur and Tempre, much as she had tried to conceal that concern.

  Or was he seeing what he wanted to see?

  What man did not?

  Still, he had duties to see to, and he wanted to check on exactly how the battalion would be taken on the barges and what supplies would be necessary. Since Lyzetta had not known those details, he would have to ride to the piers and talk to the piermaster, or to someone there.

  Finding out what he needed, in addition to arranging for equipment and other items, and finding a factor who would honor his letter of credit, took most of the rest of the duty day. Then he had spent another glass working out the arrangements for logistics with Bhoral, who, as battalion senior squad leader, had the duty of coordinating logistics.

  Because Third Battalion was not heading back to Elcien, he wrote a quick letter to his parents, explaining that he was headed to Iron Stem. That would cost him a half silver to get delivered, but they would certainly pass the word to his brother and sister, although Sesalia was doubtless occupied with her five children. As for Viencet, who knew what he might be doing now that he’d finished his formal schooling? Mykel feared that Viencet would continue to try to avoid real work, while finding excuses, and blaming others, as he had all too often in the past.

  After that, even while he was telling himself he was being a fool, he finally rode out of the compound once more, taking the roan southwest along the Silk Road.

  The guards at the gate to Amaryk’s villa glanced at him, at his uniform. Then one spoke. “You’re Majer Mykel?”