Corean Chronicles 3 - Scepters

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  The slightest frown crossed Aluyn's face, then vanished, but she did not respond.

  Chapter 22

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  In the gray light of the moments just before dawn, Alucius and Wendra walked down from the house to the smaller of the two lambing sheds.

  "He's doing much better. It won't be long before he can go with the flock," Wendra said. "I'll have to watch him more, though."

  "Don't take him when you have the flock by yourself," Alucius suggested. "Not until he's even stronger. You'll have enough to worry about."

  "I'll be careful." Wendra slid the bolt that unlocked the shed.

  "That wasn't exactly a promise," Alucius observed.

  "No. It wasn't." Wendra grinned. "If you're going to ride off to do what you think is best, then you can't exactly expect me to stay here and do anything but what I think is best. Can you?"

  Alucius shook his head ruefully and closed the lambing shed door.

  "Now," Wendra said. "What was it that you wanted to show me without your grandsire around?"

  "He can't do this."

  "And I can?"

  "You should be able to. You can sense lifethreads. And lifeforce."

  "I know. It's still hard to believe that he can't."

  "Most herders can't." So far as Alucius knew, he and Wendra were the only ones who could, but that might have been because the soarers had worked with him and he'd worked with Wendra. It wasn't something that he felt comfortable sharing, except with his wife, and that, too, was a feeling. "This is something… I can tell you, and I can show you in a way… but there's no way to actually let you practice it."

  "You make it sound so mysterious."

  "I want you to look at the ramlet there… with your Talent. Look at his lifethread, really closely." Alucius concentrated his own Talent so that he could feel the reddish black lifethread of the ramlet who looked up at them from the inside pen. Already, the ramlet had the nubs of horns that would grow into razor-sharp and curled weapons, and his lifethread had thickened and strengthened over the past few weeks so that it was as strong as that of a normal ramlet—except that he'd been born out of season, and that meant a hard winter for him.

  "What about it?"

  "Can you see all the little threads?"

  Wendra frowned. "Little threads?"

  "The main lifethread is made up of smaller threads, and they're all twisted together. There's a thicker spot, just out from the body, and it's, well, usually right out from where an umbilical cord would be."

  "I can feel, sort of see, really, the thicker spot."

  "That's a lifethread node. If you form a kind of lifeforce probe, like the darkness, except it has to be more green—"

  "Like this?"

  A wavery greenish black probe appeared, reaching out from Wendra.

  Alucius blocked it with a shield.

  "Why—"

  "Because," Alucius said quickly, "if you had touched that node with it, you could have severed his lifethread and killed him."

  "You can kill that way?"

  "Oh… yes." Alucius paused. "It's very exhausting, though. That was what I had to do against the Recorder of Deeds in Tempre, the one that the ifrit took over, and I was so tired that I could barely move. Doing too much that way could kill you. It almost did me. Bullets are better for most things, especially for Talent-creatures."

  "Then why do you want me to learn this?"

  "Because bullets don't always work against the ifrits. The other thing, what I was trying to tell you, is that they can also block the kind of probe that you tried if you just use it like a knife or a spear. Like I just did, except they're stronger. What you can do is use it to unravel the lifethreads at the node, because the threads are made up of smaller threads, and those are made of even smaller ones."

  Wendra shivered. "They could do it to us, then?"

  "I suppose so—except they never tried." Alucius frowned, trying to recall his encounters with the ifrits. No… they had never tried to unravel his lifethread—only to squeeze it or slash it. "They might not know how… or maybe they never had to worry about that."

  "I'd wager on the second," Wendra replied.

  So did Alucius. He cleared his throat. "That's it. I mean… that's what I wanted to show you and what I wanted you to know. I'd thought about it earlier, but, well, it didn't seem like you'd need it. I didn't need to use it here on the stead…" His words trailed off.

  Wendra stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. "I understand."

  Alucius hoped so. He really should have showed her earlier, but he sometimes felt that he was always realizing what he ought to have done later than he should.

  Chapter 23

  Dekhron, Iron Valleys

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  Two men sat at a corner table in the Red Ram. One was Colonel Weslyn, wearing the blue-trimmed black of the Northern Guard; the other was the round-faced trader Halanat, in his blue and gray.

  "I don't like it," said Weslyn, lowering his mug to the table. "I don't."

  "Why not?" asked Halanat. "This Alucius is being sent to Hyalt, and that is as far as one can get from the Iron Valleys. He's likely to cause far less difficulty there than here."

  "He wasn't causing any trouble at all," replied Weslyn. "He liked being a herder, and that was fine with me. He was the kind who cared more for results than what happened later. Short-term ideals, and no thought of living with the outcome."

  "Young officers are often like that."

  "I can't see why the Lord-Protector would insist on sending a marshal all this way to call up an overcaptain and promote him to majer. He and his marshals never do anything without a reason, especially one that benefits them. It doesn't make sense."

  "It might make great sense from their point of view," suggested the trader.

  "How?"

  "The Lord-Protector has a revolt on his hands. If he brings in his own Southern Guard to put it down, how does that look?"

  "It has to be put down. Even I can see that."

  "That's true, but no one wants the cost to fall on them. So… he sends a marshal up here. Didn't this Marshal Frynkel say that he was on an inspection tour? That way the Lord-Protector can claim that he sent one of his highest officers to see about reinforcements. He can also blame Frynkel."

  "For what?"

  "Is this Alucius not rather… effective? Didn't you say once that he destroyed an entire band of brigands, something like a hundred of them—and killed every last man? The Lord-Protector may need that kind of effectiveness. Would he want to saddle one of his promising Southern Guard officers with such butchery? If it goes wrong, he can blame this Alucius without tarnishing the Southern Guard." Halanat lifted his mug and took the smallest of swallows.

  "That makes sense, but it's still going to cause problems for me. He's being promoted to majer, and that's over more experienced overcaptains. Compared to them, he knows nothing." Weslyn frowned, then pulled at his chin. "That will make him one of the handful of senior officers in the Guard, and he's less than thirty years old. He's probably closer to twenty-five."

  "If he is that inexperienced, then dealing with a revolt in Hyalt will prove most difficult for him. If he is disgraced or does poorly, that will not reflect badly upon you."

  "And if he is lucky enough to do well?"

  "Then you take the credit for originally recognizing his abilities and for recommending him to the Lord-Protector. You point out, most politely, that it was his choice to leave the Guard and not yours. If he chooses to remain active in the Northern Guard, you put him in charge of the companies fighting in northern Madrien. He was not so successful against the Matrial, you said, when he first fought her lancers."

  "He was a scout. I cannot gainsay that he is an extremely good battlefield commander." Weslyn shook his head. "You have said that his family is good at business. What if he ends up here at headquarters? If he sees the accounts…"

  "Then keep him in the battlefield and away from Dekhron. His luck cannot
last there forever, and, if it does, in another ten years, he can become Imealt's deputy, and Imealt will have to deal with the overcaptain."

  "Majer," Weslyn corrected. "Like it or not, he's now a majer."

  "That is, if he survives," Halanat replied. "Rebellions are most chancy affairs. One never knows from what direction come the arrows and slings—or shots."

  "Most chancy." Weslyn nodded. "At least, after he heads south, he will not be my problem, and the Southern Guard will make the payroll for him and for Fifth Company while they are south of the River Vedra. At least, that will help." He paused. "The real loss is Overcaptain Feran. Good solid officer…"

  Chapter 24

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  Late on Decdi afternoon, Royalt met Alucius when the younger herder was leaving the nightsheep shed after having brought the flock in and settled them for the night.

  Alucius nodded to his grandsire. "You look worried. Is everything all right?"

  "Things around here are fine. Been thinking. You'll be leaving in the morning, and I wanted to talk a few things over with you before that." Royalt paused. "You don't mind, do you?"

  "You've seen more than I have," Alucius replied. "I can use any thoughts you have." He slid the last bolt into place, then turned to walk toward the stead house. "And you usually have a few."

  Royalt fell in beside him. "They're sending you to put down a revolt. That's what this marshal said, and he came all the way from Tempre to ask you? That seem strange to you?"

  Alucius laughed. "You know it's strange. I know it's strange. I just don't think I could refuse."

  "That's right." Royalt paused, then asked, "You ever think about why people get up in arms, especially when the ruler's not that bad?"

  "Well… either the local authorities haven't done well or there's something that they don't understand… or it's not local at all, and someone's stirring up trouble."

  "Could be all three," suggested Royalt. "Before you start shooting these so-called rebels, you need to find out what started the trouble first… You know, one of the things that caused all the trouble back with the Reillies… maybe even was what led to your Da's death… that was that the Council and Colonel Dyalar never asked what had gotten the Reillies all riled up. Dyalar didn't even ask, just sent out a bunch of companies and started shooting. That's one way to shut down a revolt—just kill every last one. Problem is that if you miss anyone, then they're going to come back and try to kill you and your side. Just keeps going. Sometimes, with some folk, there's no other way. But… doesn't hurt to see if there's another way. Lord-Protector doesn't much care, I'd guess, how you handle it, so long as everyone gets their property and stuff back and the troublemakers are taken care of."

  "Probably not," Alucius agreed.

  "Thing is… they wouldn't be calling you in if it were all that easy. Means they think some folks are going to get killed. Could be that's what they want."

  "I think the Lord-Protector is looking for a way to get peace for a long time, and he doesn't know where else to turn. That doesn't mean the Southern Guard thinks the way he does. I'd wager that they just don't want to have to take lancers from anywhere else, and they don't want the blame laid on them."

  "Glad to see you understand that." Royalt barked a short laugh. "You solve this without a lot of bodies, and everyone's going to say that anyone could have done what you did. You kill a lot of folk, and the Southern Guard'll come back in and tell everyone you didn't have to do that, and everyone will behave for a while just so they don't bring you back. And the Lord-Protector will thank you and send you back here. You'll be known as the Butcher of Hyalt for so long as you live, and so long as you're alive, no one's going to do much in Hyalt to upset the Lord-Protector. So you'll have all sorts coming up here to do you in."

  "You don't make it sound easy."

  "I'm probably not telling you anything you don't already know, but someone has to tell you, just in case you hadn't thought about it."

  "Some of it, I had thought about. Hadn't thought about people trying to kill me long after it was all over."

  "Alucius… nothing is ever all over. Nothing," Royalt repeated firmly.

  Those words—"nothing is ever all over"—echoed in his thoughts as he continued to walk toward the stead house, listening to his grandsire.

  Chapter 25

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  On Londi morning, well before dawn, after Alucius had turned in the wide bed and wrapped his arms around Wendra one last time, he slowly swung into a sitting position. He looked back at her, taking in her face and the warmth within her. He swallowed, thinking of what lay ahead of him.

  She slid into a sitting position beside him, leaning against his shoulder for a time, and Alucius rested his head against hers.

  Finally, he turned and kissed her once more. "I'd better get ready."

  She smiled. "You said that earlier."

  "I know. But it's later now." Alucius stood and made his way out of the bedroom to the washroom across the hall. The water was cold, but not so frigid as it would become as fall followed harvest, and especially when the cold winter of the north descended upon the stead. After he washed and shaved, he returned to the bedroom, where he donned the nightsilk undergarments, then the blue-trimmed black uniform of a Northern Guard officer—with the silver insignia of an overcaptain, since he had none for a majer.

  Wendra had already dressed and made her way to the kitchen, where she and Lucenda had breakfast waiting for him.

  "Riders a ways out on the lane," announced Royalt, entering the kitchen. "You're getting an escort this time."

  "They want to make sure he doesn't change his mind," said Lucenda, her voice hard. "Not that he will."

  "Now… Lucenda," offered Royalt. "Not as though he's got any choice. We don't either, not these days."

  "I know that. I don't have to like it." She turned to Alucius, her voice softening. "You'd better eat. You've got a long ride."

  "Longer than I'd like," he admitted, seating himself at the end of the table with his back to the archway into the main room.

  Wendra nodded, sitting down to his right.

  Alucius ate the egg toast and ham quietly and quickly, glancing occasionally at Wendra, who ate almost mechanically.

  "Pretty clear that they want to get you south quicklike," observed Royalt after a mouthful of his ham. "Lord-Protector must have his hands full and then some."

  "He should have kept them off us," replied Lucenda tartly.

  "Sad as that is," countered Royalt, "we're better off under him than we were with the last Council."

  "Self-centered gold-grubbers, and those were the best of the lot."

  "We herders knew that years ago. Just that no one listened to us." Royalt took a swallow of the cider. "Always that way. Greed usually drowns common sense."

  "Can't swim the rivers of trouble wearing gold armor," added Lucenda.

  Alucius and Wendra traded knowing glances. Royalt winked in their direction when Lucenda turned back to the hot stove.

  When he had finished eating, Alucius stood and walked to the window. "They're about here. Better get my gear."

  He turned and headed toward the rear of the house, and Wendra followed. In the comparative privacy of their bedroom, he embraced Wendra one more time, with another lingering kiss.

  "You be careful," he whispered. "You and Alendra."

  "Shhh…"

  Alucius understood the age-old taboo against using the name of an unborn child, but he had to voice her name at least once before he left. "Both of you take care."

  "You, too."

  Reluctantly, he released her and lifted the saddlebags that held a night-silk vest and his cold weather riding jacket, as well as his other uniforms and gear—and the nightsilk skull mask that had proved useful in the past.

  Lucenda had vanished from the kitchen when Alucius walked back through with Wendra, but Alucius had half expected that, knowing his mother had trouble with his leaving. She always had, from his first conscription.


  Royalt nodded to his grandson. "Just remember to think it through."

  "I'll try." Alucius gave his grandsire a smile, and with both rifles in hand and Wendra by his side, he walked out of the house and down toward the stable. The lead riders of the Southern Guard were less than a hundred yards from the stead when the two herders entered the stable.

  Alucius saddled the gray quickly but methodically, strapped his gear behind the saddle, and set the rifles in the double holsters. Then he turned. Even as he put his arms around Wendra, hers were around him.

  "I love you," he whispered. "Take care of both of you."

  "I love you, too. We want you back."

  In time, too short a time, Alucius led his mount out into the cloudy morning. Wendra remained by the stable door.

  What looked to be two squads of mounted Southern Guards stood in formation behind two officers—Captain Geragt and Marshal Frynkel.

  Frynkel rode forward and reined up short of Alucius. "I thought you might have trouble getting these." The marshal leaned forward and extended his hand.

  "Thank you." Alucius took the majer's insignia, slipping them into a pocket for a moment while he removed those of an overcaptain, then replaced the old insignia with the new. Then he swung up into the saddle. "If your men would like to water your mounts…"

  "Ah… I had them take that liberty. I trusted that you wouldn't mind." Frynkel's voice was apologetic.

  "That's fine." Alucius nodded. "Then we're ready."

  Frynkel nodded to Geragt, then eased his mount up beside Alucius's gray.

  "Eighth company!" ordered the captain. "Forward!"

  Alucius kept his eyes on Wendra until he was past the stable and could no longer see her without contorting himself in the saddle.

  Once they were on the lane, headed out to the main road, Frynkel looked at Alucius and at the double rifle holder, as well as the pair of heavy rifles resting there. His eyes moved to the pack set behind the gray's saddle. "There wouldn't be an ammunition belt in there, by any chance?"