Feran grinned. "Sir… you're supposed to have me send someone."
Alucius shrugged helplessly. "I have to get back to being an officer and not a herder."
The overcaptain turned. "Egyl… send one of the scouts to inform the marshal that Majer Alucius and Fifth Company stand ready to depart."
"Yes, sir."
Alucius glanced toward the headquarters building, but he did not see Colonel Wesyln. That was not surprising. Doubtless the colonel was on the south side, seeing Marshal Frynkel off. Alucius couldn't help but wonder whether Weslyn knew that Frynkel neither cared for him nor respected him. He supposed the colonel knew. Weslyn was too astute in playing the political currents not to know. That was one aspect of being a Northern Guard officer that Alucius could easily have done without, although his Talent was extraordinarily useful in sensing those types of undercurrents.
"They'll be waiting," Feran suggested.
"No doubt of that. They probably didn't do an inspection, although I wouldn't have put it past the marshal."
"I wouldn't, either."
Shortly after Waris returned from delivering the message, from the far side of the courtyard on the south side of the headquarters building came the command, "Eighth Company! Forward!"
"We'll hold till Eighth Company clears the gates," Alucius said.
Feran nodded.
Before too long, Alucius inclined his head to Feran.
"Fifth Company! Forward!"
As he and Feran led Fifth Company, from behind the last riders Alucius could hear the wheels of the supply wagons on the stone pavement of the courtyard. The sound of iron on stone diminished once the wagons rolled out through the gate and onto the hard-packed clay of the avenue that led eastward to the eternastone road south through Dekhron.
The buildings in Dekhron were similar to those in Iron Stem, mostly built of salvaged stone, and with either tile or slate roofs. Too many of the shutters had peeling paint, or none at all. While a number of the older dwellings nearest the river piers were two or even three stories in height, they looked even more run-down, as if they were boardinghouses for the poorer dock and river workers.
The trading buildings near the center of Dekhron had been better maintained, and several sported fresh paint and clean glass windows. Still, Dekhron appeared quieter than the last time Alucius had been there—with but a handful of people on the streets—and that surprised him, after having heard from Kyrial and Kustyl that trade had recently picked up in the river town.
At the eastern end of the avenue, Eighth Company turned south onto the eternastone high road, and Alucius and Fifth Company followed, riding past the last several blocks before the river.
The high road leaving Dekhron and leading to the bridge reminded Alucius of Hieron, because the causeway leading to the bridge had been built long before the trade section of the town beside the river. Several inclined roads had been constructed later to connect to the eternastone pavement. As Alucius rode up the causeway out of Dekhron, the sound of hoofs from the Eighth Company ahead of him echoed off the eternastone pavement and side walls of the ancient Duarchial bridge over the River Vedra. It was a bridge Alucius might have called grand years before, arching over the river and standing out against the low dwellings of Salaan on the south side of the river. But, after having seen the massive and graceful structures over the Vedra at Hieron, or the stone canyon through the Upper Spine Mountains, the bridge he crossed seemed more of a marvel as a part of a system of highways and bridges that had endured for thousands of years—a dark marvel, because he was one of the very few who knew the cost that system had imposed on Corus.
The bridge itself held a roadway twice the width of the high road, but without the dividing curb of the larger bridges Alucius had seen in Madrien. The stone guardhouse on the southern side still had not been torn down, as Feran had done to the one in Emal more than two years before, and that also troubled Alucius. From Alucius's point of view, such remnants of the near-open former hostilities between the Iron Valleys and Lanachrona would best have been removed as soon as possible.
Just beyond the southern end of the bridge, to the left, had been the Southern Guard fort. Alucius glanced eastward. The center and building and the barracks and stables remained, but the glass was gone from the windows, and stones had been knocked out of the stable walls and removed. He looked away, shaking his head.
"What is it?" asked Feran.
"The Southern Guard—just packed up and left their fort. There won't be anything left in another year or two except rubble. It seems like such a waste."
"They don't want to spend the golds to keep it up, and who would buy it?"
"I know." It was another thing that bothered Alucius. Too much was getting more run-down. But there wasn't anything he could do about that. Instead, he looked ahead to the high road, diverging gradually from the River Vedra as it headed southwest, and he thought of the long ride ahead, each glass carrying him farther from the stead, from Wendra, and from their daughter.
Chapter 30
« ^ »
Two long days later found the two companies on the high road at the place where it once more met the River Vedra.
"Marshal's picking up the pace," Feran noted.
"It's only about a glass to the post here." Alucius studied the steads and fields, taking in the two rivers, the Vyana to his left, running westward through the lower fields to the south, and the Vedra to his right. Before all that long, even through the dust raised by Eighth Company, the walls of Borlan Post appeared on the right side of the high road ahead, set on the higher triangle of land formed by the junction of the River Vedra and the River Vyana.
Fifth Company followed Eighth up the cracked pavement of the side road to the post, slowing and then halting for a time just outside the gates—gates without sentries, Alucius noted.
From somewhere ahead, Alucius heard a greeting. "Marshal Frynkel, welcome to Borlan Post! You do us honor, and we offer all that we can to ease your journey."
Alucius recalled similar words, delivered in a similar tone, and he wondered if Majer Ebuin still remained at Borlan.
Fragments of Frynkel's response drifted back.
"… appreciate the welcome, Majer… your courtesy and support… most welcome… two full companies… Majer Alucius… Northern Guard… may recall him… Overcaptain Feran…"
The blond majer—who was indeed Ebuin—remained outside the post headquarters building, waiting for Alucius and Fifth Company, while the marshal and Eighth Company had moved on toward the stables.
"Majer." Alucius inclined his head as he reined up once more. "I'm pleased to see you. This is Overcaptain Feran, in command of Fifth Company."
"It's good to see you again, Majer… and to meet you, Overcaptain."
Feran nodded.
"Are you now the post commandant?" Alucius asked politely.
Ebuin nodded. "I am. Captain-colonel Yermyn was stipended in the spring, and Borlan Post will be reduced to a travel post under a captain at the turn of the year. I'll remain here until the changeover."
Alucius hadn't really considered that the annexation of the Iron Valleys would also have had a wide-ranging impact on Lanachrona, but it certainly made no sense to retain a large outpost at Borlan now that the northern side of the Vedra was part of Lanachrona. In fact, as he considered it, he had to wonder why the reduction had not occurred earlier. "Do you know where you'll be posted then?"
Ebuin shrugged. "Best we get your men." He raised a hand, and a Southern Guard stepped forward from behind him. "Squad Leader Henthyn can help get your squad leaders oriented. You know where the officers' stable is. Marshal Frynkel will be taking the commandant's quarters, and that will allow each of you a room in the visiting officers's quarters."
"Thank you."
Alucius and Feran rode to the stables, where they unsaddled and groomed their mounts. Then Alucius—carrying his rifles and saddlebags—led the way to the structure behind the headquarters building, climbing u
p the steps to the upper level. As he recalled, their rooms would be the last three—all sharing a single washroom.
Alucius had the end room, slightly larger but still modest, with a bed for one, a writing desk, boot and weapons racks, and a narrow armoire.
While Feran checked on Fifth Company, Alucius used the cool water in the washroom to clean up, then to wash out one uniform and one set of nightsilk undergarments. After dressing in his other uniform, he made his way down the steps. Then he stopped. What was he going to do? He'd only get in Feran's way, and the older officer knew his duties, probably far better than Alucius did at the moment.
Alucius climbed back up the steps and reentered his temporary quarters. He seated himself at the writing desk. Here he was, a majer in charge of one company and shortly to be in charge of three or four, and he'd never thought about exactly how he was going to handle things. He hadn't been given any instruction or ideas, either from the marshal or from Colonel Weslyn, and he needed to set up some sort of structure to run three or four companies, and one that didn't take many lancers.
He was still jotting down notes when Feran knocked on the door to the quarters.
"Majer… the marshal has asked us to join him for supper…"
Alucius quickly stood. He had most of his ideas down in rough form, not that there were all that many.
"What were you doing?" asked Feran, as Alucius stepped out of his quarters.
"Trying to figure out how to run three or four companies without riding over my own mount."
"You've done that before."
"Ride over my own mount? Several times, at least."
Feran frowned. "You were in charge of all the companies on the way back from Deforya."
"We didn't have to do all that much except ride west on the highway," Alucius pointed out dryly. He started down the steps to the lower level. "That didn't take much skill. Here, we're going to be trying to put down a rebellion, and I'd guess that's going to mean different companies in different places."
"So… what do you have in mind?"
"There's a chain of command, and you're next in line. Frynkel's taken care of that by making sure you have a commission in both the Northern and Southern Guard." He stopped as they neared the mess. "We can go over it later."
Feran nodded.
The marshal and Captain Geragt were standing in the small mess, with its three tables, talking in low voices with Ebuin as Feran and Alucius arrived.
"… kind who will do what needs to be done…"
"… seemed that kind before…"
Frynkel broke off his words to Ebuin and cleared his throat. "Now that we're all here…"
Ebuin gestured to Frynkel. "Marshal… we're not formal here. If you would do the honors?"
With a nod, the marshal took a seat at the larger circular table, the only one set. Following the marshal, Alucius seated himself, followed by Ebuin and Feran, then by Geragt.
"As I once told Majer Alucius," Ebuin said, "the ale is good. It's one of the best parts of meals here, and that's why there are two pitchers set out." He took the pitcher and filled the beaker before the marshal.
Ebuin kept looking at Frynkel, and Alucius could sense that, for all Ebuin's outward heartiness, the majer was fretting about something.
A server appeared and set two large platters in the center of the circular table. The first held long slices of meat covered with brown sauce, garnished with lime slices. The second held glazed and fried rice.
"Whistlepig?" asked Alucius, although he thought he recognized the dish.
Feran looked at Alucius quizzically.
"It's one of the specialties of Borlan," replied the other majer. "They're like scrats, except much larger and tamer, and taste like fowl."
The marshal served himself, as did the others in turn.
As he ate, Alucius decided, once more, that despite what Ebuin said, whistlepig was not so good as fowl, especially not so good as the Vedra chicken at the Red Ram, but far better than much he had eaten over the years.
"Have you received any dispatches from Krost or Tempre that would be of interest?" Frynkel glanced at Ebuin.
"There have been very few. Arms-Commander Wyerl will be shirting the Southern Guard out of all the outposts along the Vedra east of Tempre, except here at Borlan, by the turn of the year."
"They'll all go west?" suggested Alucius.
"More than likely," Frynkel replied. "Not that I've been told yet. What else?"
"All lancers in either Northern or Southern Guard whose service is due to expire at the turn of winter or spring have been extended another season, until more trainees are ready. As possible, they will be used in training assignments."
Feran frowned, as did Geragt.
Alucius had doubts about whether such assignments would really be offered, especially for the Northern Guard.
"Such refreshingly cheerful news," Frynkel said sardonically. "And how are the crops here in Borlan?"
"I wouldn't know, sir. Not for certain, but there's not too much complaining."
The marshal turned to Alucius. "Majer, you've heard about the overthrow of the Landarch by the large landowners of Deforya. You are certainly the most experienced officer to serve there in many years. What do you make of that?"
Alucius took a small swallow of ale before replying. "The Landarch was trying to balance the needs of his land against the demands of the landowners. You may have read my report on the structure of the Deforyan Lancers. Most of their overcaptains are the younger sons of the large landowners. The undercaptains and captains come from the crafters and less prosperous merchants. That means that those with wealth control the water supply through the aqueducts, the lancers through their officers, and trade and business through their golds."
"Then why did the Landarch not fall years before?" asked Ebuin.
"It's only a guess, but I would judge that his power lay in the long tradition of the Landarchy and in the distrust between landowners. They felt they needed someone who was beholden to all the landowners and not to any one of them."
"Why would you judge the landowners overthrew him now?" Frynkel's words expressed mild curiosity.
"You would be more aware of the current situation than I am."
Alucius replied, "but I would guess that they overthrew him because he understood what was happening and tried to move Deforya to face those troubles, and the landowners were opposed to the changes…"
"Go on," encouraged Frynkel.
Alucius shrugged. "I don't know for certain, but only a few of the senior officers in the Lancers seemed to understand anything they didn't want to, or anything new. They could have cultivated more land, but instead they seemed to force people into Dereka, almost as if they wanted to keep them poor. They refused to believe in the pteridons until they were flaming thousands of lancers. Times are changing in Corus. The Praetor of Lustrea was preparing to take over the nomad grasslands, and now that Aellyan Edyss is dead and the nomads are fragmented and blocking trade on the southern route, he probably will resume that effort. If that is the case, the Landarch might assess a slightly higher tariff on the northern pass, but he would be aware that too high a tariff would not be well received by his neighbors. The landowners would not care. They would only see the chance to shift the tariff burden farther away from themselves and onto someone else." Alucius paused for another swallow of ale. "That is but a guess, and probably a poor one at that."
Frynkel nodded slowly, then glanced to Feran. "What do you think, Overcaptain?"
"I think Majer Alucius is being charitable. The landowners would suck the life out of the stones in the mountains and the grass in the plains if they could make a copper more. Their sons treat the junior officers like ignorant rankers when the juniormost officers know more than the senior officers."
"Majer Ebuin?" prompted Frynkel.
"I know less than either of these worthy officers…"
"You still must have an opinion."
Ebuin tilted his head, thi
nking for a time. "It is always easier to blame someone else. The Matrial blamed Lanachrona. The Dramurians blame us now. Deforya has slowly become less and less prosperous. I would say that it was easier for the landowners to blame the Landarch. The only way to keep him from refuting their charges was to topple him before he could. That is but my best guess, sir."
"You majers are most cautious. Overcaptain Feran is more direct." Frynkel laughed softly. "Rank can make one cautious. That is not always a virtue." He laughed again. "I learned that the hard way, many years ago when I was an overcaptain in charge of a small border post near Chronant…"
Alucius forced himself to listen intently.
Much later, after several more stories from the marshal and one from Ebuin, Alucius returned to his quarters for the night. After bolting the door, he used his belt striker to light the wall lamp over the writing desk. He set aside the sheets of paper holding his thoughts on organization and began a letter to Wendra.
When he finished, more than a glass later, he reread what he had set down, eyes skimming through the words.
My dearest—
I am writing this from Borlan. As you doubtless know, little eventful has happened, for which I am grateful. I did meet with Colonel Weslyn in Dekhron, and he is as he always has been, most polite and gracious in his speech. It was good to see Feran again, and some of the men I had commanded several years back…
We leave in the morning for Krost, where we are to meet the rest of the force I will be commanding. We have no new tidings of what may have occurred in Hyalt or elsewhere…
I would that matters were not as they are, and that we were together on the stead. I look forward to completing my tasks so that I may return to you.
Then he signed and sealed it. In the morning he would see what arrangements he could make for his letter to Wendra to be carried to Iron Stem by one of the regular dispatch riders. Of course, it would cost half a silver, and there wasn't that great a guarantee, but it was worth the coin. He just recalled his regrets when he'd been captured by the Matrite forces and had never written a single letter home.
Corean Chronicles 3 - Scepters Page 12