Suddenly, from somewhere behind him, Dainyl could sense a growing sense of amber-green—the Talent of the ancients—but he was certain that there were no portals on the ridgeline. The amber-green wavered, and then strengthened.
Abruptly, one of the ancients hovered beside him, almost at his shoulder. You must crush them.
“I know that.” He hated being told the obvious, even by an ancient. “I’m doing the best I can.”
It would be far easier if you linked directly to this world.
“I don’t know how,” he pointed out, trying to see when and where the next pteridon would loose its heavy stone.
You know how. You wish to remain as you are. If you do not change, Talent-strong as you are, you will perish. Once more, there was the impression of certainty, finality, and sadness.
“Why are you so interested in me? Why did you heal me before? Why don’t you destroy me the way you have so many others?”
We only destroy those who attack us. You have not. You have a ????? with those landers who also have ties to the world.
Dainyl had no understanding of the word or phrase she used. He frowned as he watched the pteridon on the attack run loose a stone that rolled between the three buildings without touching any of them, coming to rest a good hundred yards to the west.
The light-rifle fired by a defender missed by a wide margin.
Another pteridon flashed up on the west side of the alectors’ ridge, then dropped out of sight. That stone rolled or slid into the westernmost building, and a puff of dust or sand or crushed stone rose skyward. “Better…”
“Exactly how am I supposed to change?” Dainyl had asked the question before, but the soarer of whom he had asked had simply told him he had been shown.
You have the strength and ability to link your lifethread to this world. All you lack is the will. There was the sense of an ironic laugh. We will provide the desire. You had best know what to do when that time comes. It will not be long.
What was “long” to creatures that seemingly outlived alectors?
You see so much, and yet you learn so little.
With that, she was gone.
The last thing he needed was to worry about the undefined threats of an ancient when refugee Myrmidons were using weapons that, if not stopped, would destroy Acorus long before its time.
Another stone hit the outbuilding to the west, and a corner crumbled slightly, with a small cascade of stones spilling onto the ground of the ridge.
Following six more passes at the buildings by both squads, there was a break, since the pteridons needed to gather more of the heavy stones. Some of the rock dust cleared, enough that Dainyl could see that the eastern wall of the center structure was severely damaged and sagging inward around a gaping hole.
In less than half a glass, the bombardment began again.
This time, two of the light-rifles began firing, but after both squads had completed their run, none of the pteridons had yet been hit, and there were two more places where parts of the building walls were sagging, and the dust had begun to rise once more.
Lyzetta had just finished her next pass—successfully directing a near-spherical boulder into the middle building, and shaking down more of the eastern wall—when Dainyl sensed the heavy lightcannon begin to operate even before he saw the intense blue-green beam sweep the eastern approach to the RA’s complex. He could feel the weapon sucking lifeforce from somewhere. That meant it had a shielding mechanism of some sort, or all the alectors in the complex would be dead or dying.
The lightcannon kept trying to track the pteridons—and missing—all through the next run. Even so, the weapon was having one effect—the accuracy of the boulders went down, with only two hitting the buildings.
In some ways, Dainyl wished he had the numbers a commander like Majer Mykel had. For Dainyl, every pteridon was valuable—and irreplaceable. The majer could afford to lose scores of troopers to gain an objective. Dainyl had to weigh every possible loss. But then, that was because there had never been that many pteridons on Acorus, and they’d effectively been invulnerable.
Lyzetta had delayed the next run of the pteridons. Then, suddenly she and another Myrmidon, separated by a good hundred yards, managed simultaneous appearances directly north of the buildings. By the time the lightcannon had swung north, cutting through the dust and turning the larger particles into minute burning points of light, the two pteridons had dropped below the edge of the ridge. Lyzetta’s boulder had struck the northwest corner of the large middle structure with enough force, combined with the earlier damage, that the entire corner slumped into rubble.
The lightcannon flicked off.
Another pair of pteridons attacked from the southwest, but there was no reply from the defenders. Dainyl knew that they were waiting, probably picking a spot and hoping to trigger the weapon if any pteridon appeared there, instead of chasing the pteridons.
He just hoped Lyzetta understood that as well.
Four more pteridons appeared and lobbed or threw boulders before the lightcannon flashed once, narrowly missing the fifth. The central structure was sagging on two corners, and Dainyl had to wonder why the defenders did not move the heavy lightcannon. Or was it tied to something?
He shook his head. Of course, it was tied to the Table. That was the only source of lifeforce that wasn’t strictly local. Did that mean that the lightcannon remained virtually invulnerable, like the Table, so long as the Table was powered?
He had no way of knowing that, and if that happened to be true, then his strategy was the only one that had a chance of working.
The bombardment came to a halt once more, while the pteridons gathered more boulders. This time there was a longer break, doubtless for the Myrmidons to stretch their legs and eat. Dainyl glanced at the sun—and was surprised to realize that it was well past midafternoon.
He took a long swallow from his water bottle, finishing it off.
Close to a glass passed before Lyzetta initiated the next run.
The lightcannon did not fire for the first three pteridons.
Then, a ball of blue-green fire exploded on the west edge of the ridge. Dainyl knew the explosion was the result of the lightcannon striking one of the second squad pteridons.
The defenders had calculated well—or had been lucky. Either way, it didn’t matter. Seventh Company had lost another pteridon and Myrmidon.
Dainyl watched the next few pteridons closely, but the lightcannon did not fire, and more boulders battered the structures. If the defenders got more accurate, he’d have to come up with something else, but until they did, what the Myrmidons were doing was the best approach he could come up with.
He glanced to the northwest. Before too long, the three squads from First Company should be arriving—if they hadn’t run into other difficulties.
51
By a glass before sunset, the structures on the top of the ridge were closer to resembling piles of rubble than the buildings that they had once been, but Dainyl had the feeling that despite the outer appearance, the lower levels were not that badly damaged and that the Table was still receiving alectors from Ifryn. The lightcannon was still operating and had claimed one more pteridon. At that point, Dainyl had signaled Lyzetta to pick him up, and then had ordered a withdrawal to the patrollers’ station, leaving two pteridons flying surveillance, both to watch the complex and to intercept and warn First Company—assuming that Alcyna did in fact arrive with the three squads.
Neither Lyzetta nor Dainyl spoke until she had landed the pteridon and dismounted from the harness, stretching her long legs.
“This has been a hard day.”
“These are hard times,” he replied, thinking about all the pteridons and Myrmidons lost in the past seasons.
“Was it planned this way, sir?”
“Was what planned this way, Captain?”
“The secondary world being set up as a target for the desperate from Ifryn. The lack of pteridons and effective weapons to combat the numbers of alectors
trying to escape Ifryn.”
“I don’t think so. Not in that way. The Archon wouldn’t want Acorus to exhaust its lifeforce. He’d want another world ready when Efra fails. But…he didn’t want either world strong enough to resist him and those around him when he transfers the Master Scepter. That’s just a guess on my part, but I imagine once the decision was made, probably several years back, the Archon began sending his own people, more than a few shadowmatched for loyalty, to Efra to ensure his reception. Some have been sent here, too, I suspect.” He paused. Had Zestafyn and Kylara been such? Was that why they’d been removed? While Zestafyn’s death—since he had been Khelaryt’s unofficial intelligence chief—made sense in terms of his role in uncovering the engineering misfeasance, why would anyone bother with his wife, who had no such role, unless something else had been involved?
“Marshal?”
“Just thinking.” He forced a smile. “You’d better have your Myrmidons get some food and rest. Tomorrow could be another long day.”
“They can’t hold out that much longer, can they?” asked the captain. “What if they decide to abandon everything tonight and scatter into the hills or try to take over Soupat?”
“Then we bury the complex tomorrow so deeply that it can’t be used anytime soon, and start to hunt down any troublemakers. I don’t think the Duarches will bother, not right now, anyway, with a comparative handful of refugees—if we make sure no more come through.” Dainyl tried not to think of what would happen if someone tried to translate to a buried Table.
“What do you think will happen tomorrow, sir?”
“We’ll either find an abandoned complex, or they’ll have figured out some new weapon or way of using that lightcannon—or both—and we’ll have to figure out something else.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Blasting powder?”
“I’ve thought about it, but we don’t have the right containment to blast through unbroken stone, and it would take longer than we have to create that kind of weaponry.” Dainyl also didn’t want to be the one who demonstrated that kind of weaponry with landers around.
“There’s no other solution besides force?”
“If we allow Acorus to admit every alector who wants to come, in less than a generation, if not in a few years, we won’t have a world that will hold life. On the other hand, they’re fighting for their very lives. Do you see a solution, Captain?”
“Couldn’t we find a way…?”
Dainyl laughed. “Asulet and the lifeform specialists have worked for over a thousand years. They’d like nothing better than to have a better solution. So would your father.”
“There must be…”
“Generally, I’ve found that when we say that there must be a solution or a way, that means that we can’t think of one, but we don’t want to accept the situation that faces us.” Dainyl knew he was no different. The ancients had suggested that he had to change, and Dainyl had twice dismissed their declaration. But…what if they were right?
“Pteridons to the north!”
Both Lyzetta and Dainyl turned and watched as the three squads of First Company swung eastward and circled around, well clear of the RA’s complex, to set down farther to the east.
Alcyna was in the second harness of the second pteridon, and she un-harnessed herself quickly and walked across the sand-swept ground toward Dainyl, where she stopped. “First Company reporting, Marshal.”
Dainyl noted that Lyzetta eased away gracefully. “Thank you. How was the flight?”
“Long. We all appreciated the warning about the lightcannon.” The briefest frown crossed her brow.
For that moment, Dainyl was aware of just how small she was for an alectress. Most of the time, her sheer energy conveyed an impression of far greater height and presence.
“How did they get it here?” Alcyna asked.
“I’d judge that they carried the crystals and components here through the long translation. How many they lost to get it here I wouldn’t want to speculate. They probably had the strongest Talents do it, and had spares. It’s nothing like the ones Rhelyn had. It’s far more powerful, and they’re tapping the Table and translation tubes to power it.”
Alcyna winced. “Even Brekylt and…some of those around him aren’t that stupid.”
“Or that desperate.” Dainyl gestured toward the low hill to the northwest of the patroller station. “We can get a view of the complex from the top of the hill.”
“That might be a good idea.”
Once they were away from the other Myrmidons, Dainyl glanced at Alcyna. “You’re worried. I don’t think it’s about Soupat.”
“No. Brekylt sent me a dispatch. It was Talent-sealed. Someone had opened it and resealed it. I doubt anyone besides me or his chief assistant would have caught the difference.”
“Zelyert?”
Alcyna gave a low and rueful laugh. “Possibly. It doesn’t matter. He’ll know by now.”
“What are you going to do?”
“That’s one of the things I like about you. You don’t ask the inane questions like ‘Do you want to tell me?’ You know I wouldn’t mention it if I didn’t. Brekylt was like that, too.”
Dainyl kept walking, listening.
“It was a simple note, really,” Alcyna went on. “Not that what was behind it was simple at all. He just wished me well in Elcien. He wrote that I had great ability and should be rewarded with a position that offered me the ability to command without having to compromise with those who did not understand and never would. That was all.”
“That was almost an offer of command if you return.”
“He didn’t go quite that far. He never does.”
“But you know that, and he knows that you do,” Dainyl pointed out.
“Shastylt truly underestimated you. So does Zelyert.”
“You don’t want complete command?”
“Of course, I want to be in command.” Her eyebrows lifted and her lips quirked into a sardonic expression. “I also don’t want to be a mere tool if there’s any alternative, and Brekylt is looking for tools. Even Noryan knows that.”
“How long before Brekylt declares the east independent of the Duarches?”
“Just before the Master Scepter is transferred, when no one can really do anything. Efra will take all the effort and power the Archon and those with him have. Once Brekylt consolidates his power and controls the Tables in the east, the Archon will have to recognize him as the equivalent of a Duarch.”
Dainyl frowned. “I’m new to the deeper levels of this sort of plotting, but it seems that all the refugees from Ifryn might well be another means to keep matters unsettled enough that the High Alectors didn’t get ideas like Brekylt has—or make implementing them more difficult.”
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised. It’s aimed as much at the Duarches as at Brekylt, though.”
That was certainly true. “What else should I know about what’s happening in Elcien?”
“Doubtless there’s something, but what that might be…” Alcyna shrugged. “Zelyert has yet to talk to me since I arrived in Elcien.”
Dainyl sensed both the truth and a certain frustration behind her words.
She gestured toward the northwest. “It looks as though your bombardment is working, but…it’s been hard on the pteridons.”
“The two squads from Seventh Company started out one short, and we’ve lost four,” Dainyl admitted.
“You knew this wouldn’t be as easy as Zelyert thought, didn’t you?”
“I don’t think he cares what it costs.”
“You’re right about that.” After the briefest of pauses, she asked, “How much damage do you think you’ve done?”
“Less than it looks. In a bit, I’m going to try something else.”
“Dropping a large boulder from overhead?”
“That’s the idea. It’s not practical for most Myrmidons.” He snorted. “It may not be practical for me.”
“You have blasting powder, don�
��t you?”
“Some…but the more I’ve thought about it, the less I think it’s practical.”
“And you still don’t like giving ideas to the indigens?”
Dainyl couldn’t help but think of Majer Mykel. “Some of them already have it figured out. They just fear the consequences.”
“Those are the dangerous ones.”
Not wanting to discuss that particular matter further, Dainyl turned. “I need to get ready.”
“Of course.”
They began to walk down the hill.
“How is Lystrana doing in Dereka?”
“I have no idea, except that she arrived safely and the recorder was pleased. I haven’t exactly had access to a Table here.”
Alcyna’s laugh was rueful. “I’m sorry. Sometimes, it seems…you know what I mean.”
“We take the presence of Tables for granted.”
“We couldn’t hold even Corus together without them.”
“We may not be able to even with them,” Dainyl replied sardonically.
When they reached the station area, Dainyl found Ghasylt talking with Lyzetta.
“…hands-on commander…knows what a pteridon can do…what it can’t…”
Both looked up.
“Captain Ghasylt, is Halya available for a short flight…with a passenger? I have one more tactic I’d like to try.”
“Yes, sir. I believe she’s…over there. Halya!”
In less than a quarter glass, Dainyl was standing beside Halya’s pteridon, explaining. “We’re going to lift a large boulder very high in the sky, after twilight, but while there’s light in the sky, and then we’re going to drop it. You have a good idea of how much your pteridon can lift, I take it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then we should get airborne. We’ll head toward the sinkhole valley to the north, just to the east of the high road. There we’ll see which boulder looks best. Then, we’ll head north and circle west, climbing as we go. I’d like to be at least two thousand yards up before we start to come south over the RA’s complex.”
“We can do that, sir.”
Dainyl was more than a little amused by the alectress’s cheerful confidence.
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