Corean Chronicles 3 - Scepters

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  "So he did have a task for you."

  Alucius nodded.

  "And you will not say more?"

  "Not unless the Lord-Protector requests that I do, and I would not do so unless he did so in person."

  "You are indeed cynical, Majer." Frynkel shook his head, then gestured to his left at the long expanse of rolling meadows, with grass still green, despite the harvest season. "Now… do you know why that expanse to our left is called The Folds?"

  "I had not heard the name, sir."

  "It's called that because in the early years of Lanachrona all the herders gathered their herds and flocks to winter over…"

  Alucius refrained from taking a deep breath. The ride to Krost was long, and getting longer.

  Chapter 36

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  Alucius spent at least half of each of the next four travel days riding with the marshal, who had come up with what seemed hundreds of ways to approach the same set of questions—just what had Alucius been doing for the Lord-Protector and what did it have to do with the destroyed Table?

  On two of the nights, the companies had slept out on very hard ground, in areas posted for lancers. South of Borlan the flatlands had turned into rolling hills that were far more lush, and in the bottomland between the hills were more meadows still green even in early harvest. The fields were bringing forth beans, maize, oilseeds, and the hillsides carried vingt upon vingt of almond orchards. The wooden stead houses and outbuildings were as well kept and numerous as Alurius recalled, and the high-road traffic was even thicker than he remembered.

  With the warmer and moister air, Alucius had gone back to drinking more and more from his water bottles, and by late afternoon, his uniform was damper than he would have liked from all the perspiration.

  Late on Quinti afternoon, Alucius, Feran, and Fifth Company, following Eighth Company, were approaching Krost from the north, nearing the post where he was supposed to add two recently trained companies to his force. Southeast of Krost were the hills covered in rows of staked green vines, the northernmost of the wine-producing Vyan Hills, as Alucius recalled. Directly ahead was the crossroads where the two high roads intersected. At the crossroads, they would turn west to reach Krost Post.

  "How good do you think these trainees are?" asked Feran.

  "Not so good as they should be," replied Alucius. "Nor as good as they will be, between the two of us." He grinned and turned in the saddle. "And Egyl."

  "Sir…" protested the senior squad leader.

  Alucius gave an exaggerated shrug before turning back to look at Feran.

  "You're going to have another problem… sir," Feran ventured.

  "The way you tacked on the honorific, overcaptain, says I'm going to have a significant problem. Pray tell me." Alucius smiled.

  Feran smiled back. "They're barely more than trainees. They don't know squat about anything. They've been told for years that the Northern Guard is a ragtag outfit of herders who had to be bailed out by the Lord-Protector." Feran held up his left hand. "We know it's not true, and probably whoever's been training them lately hasn't been saying that, but I'd wager that's what they all believe."

  "You're probably right. I've been thinking about that. It's going to be hard on the trainees, but we'll set that right."

  "Oh? Just like that, sir?"

  "Just like that," Alucius replied. "We'll run a company-on-company exercise, and we'll use rattan blades, and you'll let it be known to Fifth Company the way the trainees probably feel. Or Egyl and the squad leaders will."

  Feran winced.

  "And then, I'll take on whoever thinks he's the best blade in the trainees."

  "What if he's really good, a former duelist?"

  "I doubt I'll have to. Someone that good won't be in with trainees. If he is, I'll cheat," Alucius said bluntly. "He won't know it, though."

  "Whatever happened to that innocent young officer who believed in doing the right thing?"

  "I still believe in doing the right thing. I hope I'm not quite so naive." Alucius looked southward, taking in the three tall chimneys that marked the glassworks, then, to the southeast, south of the other high road, the odd-shaped hill that had been cut away for the sand that fed the glassworks.

  "Then, there's hope for us all." Feran laughed sardonically.

  Ahead of Fifth Company, the marshal and Eighth Company had reached the crossroads in the center of Krost and turned westward. Fifth Company followed along the high roads that ran amid the old buildings, several as much as four stories tall.

  The marshal had clearly sent someone ahead to announce their arrival because, once they followed Eighth Company through the wide stone gates of Krost Post, just west of the city, a full squad was lined up to welcome them, with a senior squad leader in the front. Alucius, Feran, and Fifth Company had reined up barely inside the gates of the post when three officers in blue-and-cream uniforms hurried out into the paved courtyard and stiffened before Marshal Frynkel.

  Almost as quickly, a young-faced Southern Guard captain hurried at not quite a run past Eighth Company and came to attention opposite Alucius. "Captain Zenosyr, sirs. The captain-colonel asked me to make sure you and your men are settled in."

  "Captain-colonel Jesopyr?" asked Alucius.

  "No, sir. He was sent to Madrien in command of three companies. Captain-colonel Jorynst is post commander."

  "I'm Majer Alucius, and this is Overcaptain Feran. He commands Fifth Company."

  "Majer, Overcaptain." Zenosyr bowed his head briefly, then smiled and gestured. "You must have had a long ride. The front section of the stable is set aside for your lancers. I'll just walk with you. It's not that far."

  Alucius refrained from saying that he'd been at Krost Post before, and merely nodded.

  Fifth Company followed the captain to the massive stable, which had spaces for close to four hundred mounts. It was far more crowded than the last time Alucius had passed through, and only about a quarter of the stalls were vacant. The other stable appeared almost as full. From the stable, while Feran dealt with the squad leaders, Alucius carried his gear back across the courtyard, following the young captain to a two-story graystone structure a good hundred yards in length and up a set of steps to the upper level containing the officers' quarters.

  Zenosyr opened the third door. "These are a colonel's quarters, but as a force commander with three companies, you rate them. If there's anything you need, let me know."

  "I will, Captain, but I think it's unlikely."

  "The captain-colonel would request your presence at the supper honoring the marshal in about a glass and a half."

  "I'll be there."

  Once the captain left, Alucius frowned, thinking. It was clear that the captain had no real idea who Alucius was, other than another majer. While Alucius was well aware that fame vanished quickly, he would have thought that someone might have briefed the captain, and he had to wonder why it had not been done.

  He glanced around the room—a good ten yards by four—with an antique desk, a double-width bed of equally ancient vintage, a double armoire, a carved weapons-and-boot rack, wide, shuttered windows, and an attached washroom. It could have been the same room he'd been in before, although he thought that room had been closer to the headquarters building.

  He decided to get cleaned up. He could puzzle over the strangeness as he did. First, he racked his weapons and hung up his clothes and gear before heading to the washroom with the tub and the spigot that provided ample volumes of lukewarm water. When he had finished washing himself, he washed out dirty uniforms and garments, then dressed and seated himself at the antique desk.

  The last times he had passed through, the post that could have held between ten and fifteen full companies had housed only a company or a company and a half in residence. Now, it was more than half-full, but the honest Captain-colonel Jesopyr was gone. Had all the officers been transferred? That might explain why no one knew Alucius. Abruptly, he laughed. Why would anyone have cause to know him? "You
're taking yourself too seriously," he said in a low voice to himself.

  With a smile, he set to work writing out the exercises he planned to use to test the Southern Guard companies he would be commanding. He was still writing when there was a knock on the door.

  "Alucius?" called Feran.

  "Come on in."

  The older officer slipped inside the quarters. "Not bad. It's about twice the size of my pantry." He paused. "We are supposed to add two companies here, aren't we? Wasn't that what you told me?"

  "That's what the marshal told me."

  "That captain's senior squad leader wanted to know if we were being sent west to fight the Matrites. I said that we had another fighting assignment. He just nodded."

  "Captain Zenosyr didn't seem to know who I was and why we were here. I didn't tell him. I thought it might be more interesting to see what happens at supper." Alucius closed the folder that held his draft plans and orders, pushed back the armless desk chair, and stood.

  "I never did like that word," Feran replied.

  "Interesting?"

  "Things are always interesting around you. No offense, most honored Majer, but too often interesting just means dangerous."

  "I know. But… if the officers here don't know, that's for a reason."

  "I'd say it's because the marshal didn't want it known that those companies would be serving under a Northern Guard officer. I'd feel better if I knew why."

  "Would you?" Alucius raised his eyebrows, then laughed. "We'd at least know what we're up against, besides a revolt. We might find out more at supper."

  "I wouldn't wager on that."

  "Neither would I, but we shouldn't keep the captain-colonel and the marshal waiting." Alucius followed Feran out of the room and closed the door behind him.

  Zenosyr was standing in the courtyard below, outside the building that held both officers' quarters and the officers' mess. Young as the man looked, Alucius realized that he himself was only a few years older than the captain, if that.

  The two Northern Guard officers followed the captain in through the double oak doors and down a short hallway floored in blue-and-white marble tiles shaped like diamonds. Although the mess itself had space for a good twenty tables, a single long table was set up with white linen and cutlery and with places for fifteen officers.

  Perhaps ten Southern Guard officers were standing around the marshal, talking quietly, if insistently. Only a single officer, a majer who looked vaguely familiar to Alucius, even looked toward Alucius and Feran, and he glanced away quickly.

  "Captain-colonel Jorynst, here are our Northern Guard officers," said the marshal more loudly, looking toward Alucius. "Majer Alucius and Overcaptain Feran."

  "Welcome to Krost Post," offered Captain-colonel Jorynst, a square-faced man with thin brown hair and bright green eyes. "You'll pardon me if I don't attempt to introduce everyone at the moment."

  Alucius just nodded an affirmation, smiling politely, adding, "We're pleased to be here."

  "Now that everyone is here…" Jorynst gestured toward the head of the table. "If you would do the honor, Marshal… Majer Alucius?" The colonel nodded at the seat to the marshal's left while moving to the one to the right. The other majer sat beside Jorynst, while Feran was to Alucius's left, with the three other overcaptains next on each side of the table, followed by the captains.

  Alucius noted that Zenosyr was the most junior captain, sitting at the last position on the left side of the table.

  "In following the noble tradition set by my predecessor," Jorynst began, standing and moving to the table against the wall behind him, "I am pleased to offer one of the best white wines, that is, the best that the mess can afford." With a laugh, he uncorked one and then two of the amber-colored bottles, half-filling the marshal's goblet. Then he handed the bottle to a steward in white, who continued down the table filling the officers' goblets.

  Once the goblets all held the near-colorless wine, the colonel looked to the marshal.

  Frynkel smiled politely and raised his goblet. "To the officers of the Southern and Northern Guards, and to their triumphs, wherever they maybe."

  Alucius raised his goblet to the toast, then took a small sip of the wine. It was far better than anything he had tasted in recent years—since the last time he had been in "old" Lanachrona.

  Three troopers in white jackets appeared, quickly setting plates before each officer. On each plate was fish fileted into thin strips and covered with a yellow glaze. As he had expected, the first course was lemon-almond oarfish.

  "Majer Alucius," said Jorynst after a time of silence, "this is Majer Fedosyr. He's my deputy here. In addition to being most efficient and organized, he's also quite adept with the sabre and other weapons."

  Fedosyr—Alucius now recalled that the man had been an overcaptain when Alucius had passed through Krost before. That was why he had seemed familiar, and from Alucius's covert scrutiny of the other officers at the table, he thought that Fedosyr was the only officer he had met before. "We met most briefly several years ago, when we were both overcaptains. It's good to see you again."

  "And you, too," Fedosyr replied.

  Alucius could sense a darkness about the other majer, and a darkness that he thought might bear a hint of purpleness, but that was so faint a feeling he wasn't certain. But he did not recall that darkness from their previous meeting. At the same time, the colonel showed neither darkness nor light, nor any spark of Talent. He was a senior officer probably on his last command.

  "The colonel mentioned your efficiency. From that, I take it that you are in charge of the training going on here," Alucius ventured.

  "The colonel has allowed me to do what I can—"

  "Nonsense!" interjected Jorynst. "He's good at it, and he's in charge of it all. I just approve everything. What's the use of good officers if you don't have them do what they're good at?"

  "Precisely," said Frynkel. "That is the nature of command, to use the tools best fitted for the tasks at hand." He looked directly at Alucius. "You, the colonel, and I will meet in the morning to discuss such weighty matters. They can wait until then." He lifted his goblet. "In the meantime, this wine is a tool for a good meal." He laughed and took a swallow.

  A very small swallow, Alucius noted, which was in keeping with the effective prohibition on discussing why Alucius was at Krost Post.

  After the fish came a marinated lamb, with spices that gave it an aftertaste that was too close to prickle for Alucius to enjoy it, especially given too-heavy lace potatoes smothered in cheese. With the heavy food also came light conversation—or conversation that avoided why Alucius was in Krost.

  "… say that this Council in Deforya won't last long…"

  "… could be… go through several before they realize…"

  Alucius understood that. The Council hadn't wanted to accept reality and had toppled the Landarch. If they accepted reality, they'd be toppled. If they didn't, reality would force their hand, and they'd be toppled—somewhat later. His lips quirked into an ironic smile, but he continued to listen more than talk.

  "… Denorst's cousin says that the grapes are going to be the best in years…"

  "… liked that red he had last time we were there…"

  "… still think that the bays handle the cold better… coats are thicker…"

  "… hard to find a good farrier…"

  In time, the marshal smiled and stood, and slipped away. Shortly thereafter, so did Alucius and Feran. Neither spoke until they were outside the door to Alucius's quarters and Alucius had opened the door.

  "What was all that about?" asked Feran quietly, stepping into Alucius's quarters and closing the door. "The marshal as much as ordered us not to talk about why we're here."

  "I don't know," Alucius admitted. "But I didn't want to say why we're here, not if the marshal and the captain-colonel didn't want to talk about it."

  "I can see that. Why didn't he?"

  "Something's wrong here, and…" Alucius had almost said t
hat he felt Majer Fedosyr was the problem, but he didn't know that. "… I don't think anyone wants to face it. It could be that they resent my coming in here, that it's somehow a glove across the face."

  "It wouldn't have to be," Feran said, "but it hasn't been handled right."

  "Or someone doesn't want it handled right," Alucius suggested.

  "There's a lot of that," Feran pointed out.

  "There always has been. We saw that in the militia, even when Clyon was colonel. People want things the way they want them, not the way that would be best." Alucius shook his head and laughed softly and ironically. "That doesn't even count the problem of knowing what is best."

  "You're right about that."

  "We won't get to the bottom of this tonight. I'm supposed to meet with the marshal and the colonel in the morning. They may not have wanted to say anything until they had a chance to meet. You're the deputy commander of this force. I'd like you to get both Southern Guard companies out on the maneuver field one glass after muster. I should be there by then, but if not, just tell everyone that those are my orders, and that I'll be there as soon as I can be."

  "What about Fifth Company?"

  "Tell them they can take the day off, but to get their gear in shape. The mounts need the rest anyway. We'll bring them into this on Septi. That's when they'll earn their pay."

  "You don't make things easy."

  "I'd prefer to do things more gently. It won't work. So… what I'm suggesting will be easier than trying to talk everyone into cooperating. I can tell that none of the officers are in the mood to be cooperative. So… we establish that we're in charge, and then we go after cooperation after that."

  "I hope it's that simple."

  So did Alucius.

  Chapter 37

  Hieron, Madrien

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  The Regent stood between the conference table and the wide windows that displayed the southern part of Hieron as well as the southern quarter of the Park of the Matrial. Her violet eyes followed the east range high road southward to the point where it vanished into the harvest haze. Then she turned to the marshal. "You say that the second crystal spear-thrower should have reached the forces moving south from Dimor?"