At the supply valley he had Halya’s pteridon pick up the largest and most spherical boulder that she felt confident the creature could carry. Even so, he had to wince at the Talent/lifeforce draw that it took for the pteridon to get into the air and slowly climb out.
They continued to climb for a good four vingts before Dainyl called forward. “You can swing back south now.”
“Yes, sir.”
At two thousand yards above the rocky hills to the north and west of Soupat, Dainyl could sense that the pteridon was close to its limits. He waited until the battered buildings came into clearer view, the stones golden red in the indirect light diffusing from the setting sun.
“A touch more to the right!”
The pteridon banked ever so slightly.
“Just a bit more.”
The pteridon centered on a course that would carry them directly over the center building, the one that held both the lightcannon and the Table.
From what Dainyl had seen earlier, they were above the range of the heavy lightcannon, even assuming that the defenders had a way to aim it directly overhead. That was the advantage that using altitude to accelerate impact weight had. The disadvantage was that Dainyl’s Talent only extended perhaps fifty yards below them, but what he planned was to have the pteridon release the boulder and guide it through a Talent-tube pointed at the main structure.
It couldn’t hurt to try, and it might shake up the defenders, even if it failed.
As they neared the buildings, the blue-green beam of the lightcannon stabbed toward them, but only creating a faint bluish haze that did not quite reach the pteridon. As quickly as it had appeared, it vanished.
“A little longer!” Dainyl called. “Have the pteridon release it when I call ‘Drop!’”
“Yes, sir.”
Dainyl began to form the Talent-tube he needed—and the pteridon dropped a good fifty yards before stabilizing in flight.
“Sorry, sir! Don’t know what happened.”
Dainyl did, but he could explain later. “Keep it level for a few moments longer.” He was trying to mentally gauge the arc toward the building, taking into account their own momentum.
“Drop! Now!”
Dainyl could feel himself pressed into the saddle by the combination of stress on his Talent-tube and the upward movement of the pteridon when it lost the drag of the boulder.
He’d tried to impart a Talent-affinity in the boulder, as well as guiding it, in the few instants before it was out of his Talent range.
From far beneath, he could sense an effort at a Talent shield. Then a puff of dust rose on one side of the building, and stones cascaded down onto the ground.
“You hit the building, sir!” Halya exclaimed. “You hit it.”
The boulder had struck the building, but had missed the lightcannon, either because his aim had been inaccurate or because the defenders had managed to shield the weapon. His smile was rueful. From the altitude from which they’d dropped the boulder, he should have been happy to have gotten even close to the building.
Like it or not, First and Seventh Companies were going to have to continue the close-in and tiresome business of lofting and bowling heavy boulders at the buildings on the ridge until the defenders surrendered, fled, or died.
“Take us back down to the patroller station, but keep us well away from that lightcannon!”
“Yes, sir!”
The pteridon continued south for almost two vingts, only gradually descending until they were well south of Soupat. Then, Halya circled eastward in a swift descent, coming in and flaring at the edge of the flat sandy expanse to the east of the patroller station.
Once the pteridon folded its wings, Dainyl unfastened the harness and dismounted.
“Sir…?” offered Halya.
“Yes?” Dainyl looked forward at the Myrmidon, who was inspecting her skylance.
“My skylance is exhausted, but we didn’t use it.”
“No. That sometimes happens when the pteridon is having trouble drawing lifeforce. That was also why when I used Talent to try to guide the boulder, we lost altitude.” Those were both reasons why Dainyl wasn’t about to suggest repeating the effort—or that anyone else try it.
“Oh…tell Captain Ghasylt that you’re not to fly for the first glass tomorrow. It will take your pteridon that long to recover.”
Halya’s eyes widened slightly. Then she nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Dainyl turned and began to walk—slowly—toward Alcyna, who was waiting near the station. He was as exhausted as the pteridon was.
52
By Novdi morning, Mykel did manage to walk to the officers’ mess for breakfast, although his legs were unsteady by the time he seated himself.
One of the orderlies hurried over. “Sir? Cider? Ale?”
“Both.” He smiled. “They seem to work better together.”
As the ranker hurried toward the kitchen, Culeyt and Fabrytal turned from the side table.
“It’s good to see you up, sir,” offered the undercaptain.
“It’s good to be up.” Unsteady as I may be. Mykel suspected that Fabrytal worried because Mykel had been riding with Fifteenth Company just before he had undertaken his less than successful effort against the snipers.
The ranker orderly returned with two mugs. “Here you are, sir. Breakfast’ll be here soon, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Before Mykel had taken more than a single swallow of the ale, Rhystan stepped into the mess.
“Might I join you, sir?”
“Please do.”
“You’re still pale,” Rhystan said quietly as he eased his chair into place across from the majer.
“I feel pale, but I’m stronger, and it’s important for everyone to know I’m on the mend.” Mykel kept his own voice low. Why he felt that way, he couldn’t have explained. “How have the attacks by the sandwolves and sanders been going?”
“More of them,” admitted Rhystan, “but I passed on your advice to the other officers and made sure they told their squad leaders. The squads are doing better. The inholders are losing some livestock, but not as much, and we didn’t lose any men yesterday.”
“You think it will get worse.”
“I do. The outholders have been quiet, but that won’t last, either.”
“What about the miners and workmen?”
“No one’s saying anything.”
“The Reillies?”
“The scouts report that they’re still meeting. The locals say it takes almost a week for the burial ceremonies, and another two or three days to select a successor. The Squawts have a council meeting or whatever they call it on Duadi.”
“That gives us some time.”
“You mean,” Rhystan parried, “it gives you time to recover. It’s not enough. It’s going to be weeks, if not months, before you can use that arm again.”
“I’ll just have to use my brain more.”
“I believe I suggested that, sir.”
Mykel caught the humorous glint in Rhystan’s eyes. “You did. I’ll even write up your evaluation with a commendation for providing invaluable advice.” He managed a grin.
“I’ll take that, sir. I’d appreciate it even more if you make sure you’re around to do the writing.”
“I’m working on that. Have we had any dispatches or orders from the colonel or from the Marshal of Myrmidons?”
“Nothing yet, but we won’t get another sandox coach here until…”
“I know. They don’t travel here on the end-days.” Mykel smiled as the orderly set the breakfasts before him and Rhystan. “I have to say that it looks good.” But then, after not being sure that he’d recover from what he’d been through, anything looked good.
He took another swallow of ale.
53
Octdi evening had been warm enough, but the wind rose through the night, and by Novdi morning a hot gale was whipping sand at the buildings and the pteridons. When Dainyl looked outside, he could barely se
e the outline of the stables. Whether he liked it or not—or Zelyert and the Duarches did—until the wind and blowing sand subsided, no one was going to fly anywhere.
Before long, other officers joined him, and Dainyl, Alcyna, Ghasylt, and Lyzetta stood in what had been a very compact squad room. The chairs were too small for comfortable sitting, except perhaps for Alcyna, but Dainyl knew she would never sit while others stood.
“This isn’t good,” offered Alcyna. “Sandstorm or not, they can still use the Table.”
“They aren’t too likely to go anywhere, are they?” asked Ghasylt.
“They could build up their forces and try to take another Table,” the submarshal replied.
“That would be harder. All the other Tables have been warned,” Dainyl said. “I don’t like it, either, but there’s little enough we can do about it.”
The thin walls of the building shuddered, and more grains of fine sand seeped through the cracks around the shuttered windows and slowly tumbled down, adding to the small piles growing on the floor against the outer wall.
“This is winter,” Dainyl said. “I can’t imagine what it’s like in the summer.”
“I don’t wish to, thank you,” replied Alcyna.
“The sand won’t hurt the pteridons,” added Ghasylt. “They could use the rest.”
Although it was more a recharging of lifeforce, Dainyl knew, Ghasylt was basically right.
“Seventh Company’s, too,” added Lyzetta. “I need to check with the squad leaders. I think we got in a little local food last night.”
“That’d be good,” added Ghasylt.
Both captains departed, Ghasylt slightly after Lyzetta.
“She reminds me of someone,” murmured Alcyna. “I can’t say whom, though. I feel I should.”
“That’s not surprising,” replied Dainyl, “given how few alectors we have on Acorus, and how many you’ve met.”
“How diplomatic of you, Marshal. By the way, has it occurred to you that there’s no one really in command of the Myrmidons?”
“It has. I’d hoped this would be over somewhat sooner, and one of us could return to Elcien.”
“You also didn’t want me to remain in Elcien with Zelyert,” suggested Alcyna. “I can see that, but what about the other companies? Don’t you worry that he’ll send orders to them directly?”
“That’s possible, but Majer Keheryl will plead necessity to avoid them, and Fifth Company is too far away to react immediately. Sevasya won’t do anything against the interests of Khelaryt, and Captain Elysara will consult with Asulet. Besides, I have my doubts that Zelyert will want the Myrmidons to do anything until he knows what will happen here.”
“Can this be the same officer who sought obedience to authorized orders from all Myrmidons?” Alcyna’s voice was light, almost but not quite mocking.
“Exactly the same. I’m just having more difficulty in knowing what an authorized order might be.” And what it might cost us all.
“There’s nothing worse than uncertainty in command,” parried Alcyna.
“Except absolute certainty that’s wrong. That was what Shastylt offered.”
“You’re suggesting something close to treason, Marshal.”
“I’m suggesting nothing. I’m still obeying orders. But I can’t help but wonder about the infallibility of a system that knows that thousands of alectors will have to die for a small number to live, and that has known that it must be so for thousands of years—and has done little to avoid it.” Dainyl shook his head. “I’ve known it, too. It’s different when you see them die, and when you’ve even killed some of them.”
Alcyna looked squarely at him. “If you had been in charge of the Myrmidons who took Soupat Table, no one would have been able to do anything until it was too late. You’ve known who Noryan was for seasons, but you let him be. There are others as well, knowing you. You respect courage and ability. Those who are fleeing Ifryn now generally lack both foresight and ability, and courage alone is merely stupidity.”
“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.
54
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 thirty-odd 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 midafternoon, 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.
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