Corean Chronicles 3 - Scepters

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Alucius had not known that, and he was certain that Frynkel had known he had not.

  "… the Northern Guard is struggling to hold to its gains in northern Madrien. According to Colonel Weslyn, there are few available men who can be conscripted into the Northern Guard."

  "From what I know, sir, that is true. Any more conscription would wreak great harm on the Northern Valleys. There are already many crafters without sons, and, while their wives and daughters can carry on now, if too many more are lost there will be too few to pass on their crafts to the children."

  Frynkel nodded. "My own inquiries have supported that. Unfortunately, events are proving most unkind. The Landarch of Deforya has been deposed by the great landowners there, and they have established a Council of Five. That Council has doubled tariffs in the east. The warring between Illegea and Ongelya has closed the southern route, and several caravans have been plundered, their traders killed. The Regent of the Matrial has retaken Fola and Dimor and is pressing southward. Somewhat over three weeks ago, a revolt erupted in Hyalt."

  "And the Lord-Protector's request?" asked Alucius, dreading the response.

  "While we believe that we can hold Southgate with the forces at hand, we cannot transfer more than a company or two to deal with the revolt in Hyalt. We believe that we could transfer but one company from the Northern Guard, and there are two, perhaps three, Southern Guard companies in training that could be spared. Yet, if we transfer more than those…" Frynkel spread his hands. "And if we do nothing, the revolt could spread and block the trading roads."

  "You haven't said what the Lord-Protector would request," Alucius pointed out.

  "He would request your return to duty as a majer in charge of the forces to put down the revolt in Hyalt. The revolt has been fomented by a group that advocates a return of the 'True Duarchy,' whatever that may be. Most merchants and crafters—those that can—have fled and have appealed to the Lord-Protector to restore their lands and town to them."

  "I can see what the Lord-Protector would gain," Alucius replied slowly, "and I would be remiss in not appreciating his courtesy in making this a request. Still… that asks a great deal, not so much of me, but of my wife and family."

  "The Lord-Protector understands that as well. His need is great, but so is his gratitude. He would offer not only the rank and pay of a senior majer, but also a continuing stipend, in addition to your pay, to your wife, equal to your pay, while you serve outside the Iron Valleys. He will pay that personally. He also offers his gratitude."

  Alucius nodded. There had to be more. So he waited.

  Frynkel leaned forward slightly, his voice lower as he spoke. "He also is deeply concerned about the future of the Northern Guard. Once you are successful in Hyalt, he would be most appreciative if you would become the commander of the Northern Guard."

  "Me?"

  "You." Frynkel withdrew a narrower envelope from his jacket and extended it. "This is for you."

  Alucius took the envelope as though it contained a death sentence, breaking the outer seal and withdrawing the single sheet carefully.

  My dear Overcaptain Alucius—

  As you may have gathered, the times have become most dangerous for us all, else I would not have sent Marshal Frynkel to tender my request of you to return to service. I know that you would prefer to be a herder. You have made that most clear. I also would prefer that, rather than making this request of you.

  Yet… we are not always allowed our choices, and the times make requests as well. The Northern Guard is not well served. By accepting my request, you can once more distinguish yourself, and in a rank that will permit no brooking of your becoming commander of the Northern Guard once you complete this mission. This letter, which I suggest you tender to your family for safekeeping, is a written promise of my faith in and gratitude toward you…

  The signature was that of Talryn, Lord-Protector of Lanachrona, and from what Alucius recalled from the signatures on his discharge orders, it was indeed the Lord-Protector's.

  Alucius lowered the letter, folding it and slipping it back into the envelope. He could not block the shock on his face, not for a moment, and he said nothing until he felt he was more in control. "Matters are that bad?"

  "They may be worse since I left Tempre," Frynkel replied. "I cannot imagine how they could have improved."

  Did Alucius have a choice? A real one? Not that he could see. Finally, he nodded, and asked, "What company of the Northern Guard?"

  "The Fifth, under Overcaptain Feran. That contains what remained of your Twenty-first." After a moment, Frynkel went on, "You would also receive the Lord-Protector's commission as a senior majer in the Southern Guard. That way, none could gainsay your authority over lancers from either north or south."

  "That would also subject me to the authority of the Southern Guard," Alucius pointed out.

  Frynkel offered a rueful chuckle. "If you accept, you would be subject to such in any case."

  "True," Alucius admitted. "Could you tell me more about why this need is so great?"

  Frynkel cleared his throat. "The Regent of the Matrial has become even stronger…"

  As the marshal talked evenly about all the difficulties besetting the Lord-Protector, Alucius listened, but his own thoughts skittered around Frynkel's words as well. Truly, he had not understood fully how much the military situation had changed in Corus in the more than two years since he had left the Northern Guard. Had the ifrits somehow returned and created the changes, adverse as they were, or had human nature just taken its normal course?

  His lips turned into a tight and wry smile. Did it matter?

  "… and for all these reasons, the Lord-Protector reluctantly decided to make this request of you. Will you consider such?"

  Alucius let the silence drag out. Finally, he spoke. "You believe what you say, and I have found the Lord-Protector to be an honorable man. Only a man blind and deaf would conclude that he had a choice. Since I am neither, I will accept, but I cannot leave for at least a few days."

  Alucius heard the faintest gasp from the kitchen—from his mother.

  "We had thought that would be so. In any case, I will have to make the arrangements for Fifth Company to be recalled from Wesrigg. As I recall, they were just recently posted there in preparation to support the defenses around Arwyn."

  Alucius nodded, waiting to see what else Frynkel had to say.

  "Colonel Weslyn will also need to be informed of the Lord-Protector's request and orders, but it will be my pleasure to take care of that." Frynkel smiled coldly. "That will require a certain… firmness. But he will not learn of the Lord-Protector's eventual intent. Only the Lord-Protector, Marshal Wyerl, and I—and you—know that or will know it until just before it comes to pass."

  Alucius could tell that Frynkel cared little for Colonel Weslyn. He also knew that his accepting the Lord-Protector's request was foolish and dangerous, especially since it would establish him as a rival and an enemy of Weslyn, even if Frynkel did not inform Weslyn about the Lord-Protector's future intentions for the commander of the Northern Guard.

  The "request" of the Lord-Protector was intolerable. It didn't help much that the alternative was worse.

  Chapter 20

  « ^ »

  Alucius stood on the porch, watching as the Southern Guards rode down the lane, back toward Iron Stem, or perhaps to Wesrigg. Wendra and Royalt stood by the corral on the north side of the main sheep shed, watching as the blue-uniformed riders passed them. Absently, Alucius realized that either Wendra or Royalt had taken his gray and stabled and groomed the big gelding.

  "Alucius…"

  He turned to face his mother.

  "How could you… ?" She looked at her son. "Haven't you done enough already?"

  "I don't have any real choice," he replied. "The Northern Guard can't hold out against the Regent of the Matrial without support from the Southern Guard and the Lord-Protector, and they can't provide it."

  "Can't… or won't?"

/>   "Does it make any difference?" he countered.

  "Will it always be this way? Will you always take on what others should do?"

  Alucius didn't have an answer, not one that he wanted to voice. He'd answered once before, and it hadn't exactly helped. Instead, he just looked at her levelly.

  After a moment, she dropped her eyes.

  Silently, as the sun dropped behind the iron-sandy plains and quarasote flats to the west, Alucius and his mother waited and watched as the last of the Southern Guard lancers left the stead and as Royalt and Wendra walked from the corral toward them. No one spoke until all four were gathered on the southern part of the porch, just outside the door to the house.

  "What did the marshal want?" asked Royalt.

  "The Lord-Protector requested my return to service—as a favor," Alucius replied. "They'll promote me to majer. Senior majer."

  "Senior majer? They must want you back a whole lot," said Royalt.

  "You said you would, didn't you?" Wendra's voice was soft.

  "How could I not accept?" replied Alucius. "If I refused, before long I'd be asked again, less politely, and I would have to fight under even less advantageous conditions… and without the support of the Lord-Protector."

  "How bad is it?" asked Royalt.

  "Worse than any of us thought, even Kustyl. The Regent of the Matrial has rallied the lancers of Madrien and come up with another crystal spear-thrower…" As the others listened, Alucius summarized what Marshal Frynkel had told him earlier. "… and everywhere there are problems. No one is going to help the Iron Valleys until they've dealt with things closer to their home. I don't like that, but that's the legacy we got from the old Council and the traders in Dekhron, and we have to deal with what is, not what we'd like."

  "Always been that way." Royalt shook his head slowly. "Always will be. Too few herders, and no one else cares."

  "Not until it affects them, anyway," Alucius pointed out.

  "You got another problem," Royalt said. "This revolt in Hyalt. Anyone who puts it down, or tries to, isn't going to be real popular. Especially if you kill a bunch of folks. Maybe, the Lord-Protector—or his folk—have been doing something not real popular there. Could be why he wants an outsider to handle it."

  "That's possible," Alucius admitted. Anything was possible. He'd already seen good and bad officers in the Southern Guard, and a few of the bad ones had been every bit as bad as Dysar, who had been the worst Alucius had encountered in the Northern Guard. It was also more than likely that the rebellion had been caused by poor administration or over-tariffing. But… he'd just have to see.

  "Better remember that for every man you kill, two will come forward to avenge him. That's the way those southerners are. Got fire for blood, and not a lot in the way of brains," Royalt said.

  There was another long silence.

  "I might as well get on with fixing supper. It'll be a bit late." Lucenda looked to Wendra. "I won't need help yet."

  "I'll be there in a bit," Wendra replied, as Lucenda slipped through the front door, closing it behind her.

  "Need to check the shed," Royalt added. "What with all the commotion, not sure I locked everything tight." He turned and headed down the steps, back toward the outbuildings, leaving Alucius and Wendra alone on the porch.

  Wendra looked at Alucius, her golden-flecked green eyes meeting his silver-gray orbs.

  After a moment, she said, "I know you have to do this. I could feel it."

  "I don't want to," he said, taking her hands in his. "It's just…"

  "… that you don't have any choice. You can't fight off the Matrial's lancers by yourself, but if you help the Lord-Protector, you think there's a chance that it won't happen."

  "Chance—that's a good way of putting it." Alucius uttered a sound halfway between a laugh and a snort. "I've seen how many lancers Madrien has. I don't know how this new Regent of the Matrial has managed to take over, but she has, and without the support of the Lord-Protector to block the Regent, Madrien can take the Iron Valleys in a season. Every year, we have fewer people and fewer golds…" He shook his head.

  "Do you think the ifrits have anything to do with things getting so bad?" asked Wendra.

  "I can't say. I just don't know."

  "What do you feel?" she pursued.

  "I can't say why, but I feel that they are."

  "So do I.I don't want you to go. I know you have to, but…" Wendra's eyes were bright.

  Alucius glanced at the Plateau, a grayish mass that melded with the gray clouds swirling around and above it. "I wish I knew more."

  "We never do."

  That was certainly true, he reflected. That had been true his entire life.

  "When will you leave?" asked Wendra.

  "On Londi. Marshal Frynkel will be taking care of other details."

  "Informing the colonel?"

  "Among other things." Alucius took the narrow envelope from within the nightsilk jacket he had never shed and handed it to Wendra. "You need to read this. It's from the Lord-Protector."

  He stood and waited as she opened the envelope and read the words put to pen there.

  Finally, she looked up. "Commander of the Northern Guard? Why?"

  "Because things are worse than we know."

  She just looked at him. "Will you accept that as well?"

  "That's a road I won't reach for a while." He forced a smile. "Anyway, that would mean I would be in Dekhron, and commanders don't undertake the nasty missions."

  She raised her eyebrows. "Colonel Weslyn doesn't. Colonel Clyon did. Who was the better commander?"

  Alucius concealed a wince. "That road can wait. Anyway, it could be that things in Hyalt won't take that long."

  Her laugh was a short bark. "Then what? The Lord-Protector will want something else… or you'll be tied up in trying to rebuild the Northern Guard."

  "You think I should have refused?" he asked softly.

  "No. It wouldn't have been right. I don't know if exactly what you will be doing is right, but I've seen the Talent-creatures, and you can't stay here and pretend they don't exist or that life will go on as before. And even if they aren't involved, Colonel Weslyn is almost as bad in his own way. I just wish you didn't have to be the one to put things right."

  "I know, and I could be being sent to the wrong place…"

  "That could be." Wendra offered a tight smile. "If that is so, then I'll have to do what you would have done."

  "There are some more things I need to show you."

  She just nodded, then stepped forward and put her arms around him. "You can do that… tomorrow."

  Chapter 21

  Hieron, Madrien

  « ^ »

  The Regent sat on the south side of the circular ebony conference table, as had her predecessor the Matrial, with the wide glass windows behind her. The deep violet of her tunic did not quite match her eyes, but the green emerald choker glimmered as if lit from within the gems, setting off her near-alabaster skin. She leaned forward, intently listening to the officer who sat on the far side of the table.

  "The Lord-Protector is overextended, especially in the north," the blond marshal said. "We have pushed the Northern Guard back from Arwyn, and we may be able to retake Harmony by winter's end."

  "I had thought that was possible."

  "For me, Regent, that is difficult to believe. Especially so soon after… the disaster. Even with the training plans and the other… information you have obtained."

  The Regent smiled, an expression both cold and calculating and warm simultaneously. "Gold can bring forth much information, especially if offered to those with greater dreams than their abilities."

  "How many… in all Lanachrona? Might I ask?"

  "Not that many. They are not ones to be noticed. Majers and the like, high enough to know what we need to know and low enough that few would suspect them."

  "I still cannot believe—"

  "The lamaial vanished," replied the Regent. "We suspect that he was the
overcaptain who defeated the barbarians in Deforya, but that is uncertain. What is more certain is that he is no longer in the Northern Guard. Our informants suggest that he has returned to being a herder and has no interest in arms, unless the Iron Valleys are threatened. That is not a mistake we will repeat. Anyone who has ever attacked them without all other threats removed has regretted it most bitterly." The necklace flashed, and she laughed softly, yet with a hard edge to her voice. "Even under the Duarchy, they were the last to submit and the first to rebel, and so it will be again. So… we will only push so far as to retake Harmony, and only as you can do so prudently with more limited forces. Can you send more lancers to the south?"

  "A few more companies. Some of the auxiliaries as well."

  "And the second crystal spear-thrower?"

  "You wish me to use it against Southgate? That would pose some risk if the Northern Guard sends additional lancers to its forces."

  "Where do you think Colonel Weslyn will find more lancers? The Lord-Protector forbid him to conscript herders, and the traders will protest if he conscripts heavily from their communities."

  "So he will not have many reinforcements."

  "Exactly." The Regent added, "That will allow you to place the crystal spear-throwers so that both are used against Southgate."

  "We can only fire one at a time."

  "I know. But if one is on the north side and one on the east…"

  Marshal Aluyn nodded. "You wish none of the Lord-Protector's troops to escape?"

  "As few as possible. Those he does not have cannot return to invade Madrien. The same is true, to a lesser degree, of the Northern Guard."

  "You have risked much, Sulythya… Regent." Aluyn's eyes flickered to the dark hair of the Regent, hair that had once been far redder and lighter.

  "Not so much as I must risk, Aluyn. Marshal. The times are changing, and we must be prepared for those changes."

  "Have they changed that much, Regent? Or do we see the change we wish to see?"

  "Times will change, Marshal, more than we can imagine. More than we can possibly imagine."