Corean Chronicles 3 - Scepters

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Then he rode toward the swirling melee, raising his voice and projecting command, "Break it off! Now!"

  "Re-form! First squad break and re-form!" came the command from Faisyn.

  "Re-form!" echoed the squad leader from Twenty-eighth Company.

  Alucius watched, but it appeared as though all of first squad still held their wands.

  After the dust settled, and the two first squads had cleared the center area, Alucius called out. "Second squads! To the center of the field… Commence exercise!"

  Once more, the results of the quick skirmish were overwhelmingly in favor of Fifth Company's second squad, but the lancers of Thirty-fifth Company's second squad generally managed to hang on to their weapons, and a few even parried or landed blows of their own.

  Alucius tried not to frown as the morning wore on, but the pattern set in the first two skirmishes held consistent for the last three. Twenty-eighth Company was hopelessly overmatched, while Thirty-fifth resembled trained raw lancers.

  As the last of the morning drills broke off and the two fifth squads reformed, Alucius caught sight of a Southern Guard officer riding away from the maneuver field. He wasn't certain, but he thought the man was Fedosyr, and he wondered exactly why the other had been watching the drills.

  Alucius made a mental note to himself about Majer Fedosyr as he rode toward Twenty-eighth Company, loosely formed up in the northwest corner of the field.

  He began his debrief with Captain Deotyr and the first squad leader. "Captain, squad leader… the first thing that I noticed was that too many lancers in your squad were leaning back in their saddles . .." After going over the general observations, he moved on to specific points.

  Then he repeated the process with Captain Jultyr.

  After that Alucius called a break. The companies dismounted, tying their horses to the railings on the east and west sides of the maneuver field.

  Alucius turned his own gray to the northeast, where he reined up at the very north end of the railing. There he dismounted and took a long swallow from one of his water bottles. Shortly, Feran joined him.

  "What do you think?" Alucius asked the older officer.

  "Thirty-fifth Company will be all right. Jultyr's solid. Not outstanding, but solid. Twenty-eighth Company…" Feran shook his head.

  "They've made it harder for us," Alucius suggested. "Normally, you just rotate replacements into an existing company. Except for the squad leaders and captains, they've formed two complete companies out of trainees. So we get to train them, and when it's all over they either get two trained and experienced companies, or they haven't lost an existing company."

  "Why do we always get deals like this, sir?"

  "Because a lot of the Southern Guard doesn't like the Northern Guard. We cost them a lot of lancers and officers over the years, and they haven't forgotten—or forgiven."

  "Have we?" asked Feran with a laugh.

  "We haven't forgotten, but I hope we've enough sense to put it behind us." Alucius fished out some hard travel bread and chewed on it, wondering just how many more difficulties that he hadn't anticipated would raise their heads.

  After the midday break, the afternoon skirmishes went in much the same way as the morning, except that Twenty-eighth Company's results were even worse, with two lancers breaking their sword arms. On the other hand, Thirty-fifth Company's three squads did a slightly better job against Fifth Company and also managed to hold discipline and a semblance of ranks.

  Alucius went through another long series of debriefs with the captains and their squad leaders, and it was well past midafternoon when he finished those and ordered the companies to form up.

  "How do you think they'll react to today?" Feran asked.

  "You probably know better than I do," Alucius replied. "What do you think?"

  "My guess is that the trainees—I guess they're lancers now… they'll start to accept the fact that they have something to learn. The captains, I don't know. Deotyr will do what you want, but he won't give much leadership. Jultyr… he can probably lead, but I can't tell whether he'll make it hard or not."

  "It's your job, for now, to find out and see what it will take with Jultyr," Alucius said.

  "I was afraid you'd say that."

  "And one other thing…" Alucius smiled tiredly. "Once everyone is formed up, I'm going to announce a complete gear inspection in one glass. That includes Fifth Company."

  Feran smiled in return. "Fifth Company should be set. I held one yesterday."

  "The others may be set, but…"

  "You don't think so."

  "I'd like to think so," Alucius said.

  He waited for a bit longer, before ordering, "Captains, forward!"

  The three officers rode from before their companies, reining up in a line three yards short of Alucius.

  "Captains, Overcaptain."

  "Yes, sir."

  "You and your men have a glass and a half to get set for a complete mount and gear inspection outside the barracks. Uniform will be standard field dress. Gear will be full deployment equipment. That includes all officers and men in all three companies."

  "Yes, sir."

  "That will be all."

  After the three turned their mounts, Alucius listened as they rode back to their companies.

  "… think he is…" muttered Deotyr.

  "… he's in command, Deotyr… better realize that…" answered Jultyr. "He's got a nasty job to do, and we're the ones…"

  A nasty job indeed, Alucius reflected, as he turned the gray back to the stable, but nasty jobs seemed to be his legacy.

  Chapter 40

  « ^ »

  On Octdi morning, a day with hazy clouds rather than the heavy overcast of the previous day, Alucius had just led out the gray from the stable, but had not mounted. He and Feran stood by their mounts.

  "You still intend to work with Twenty-eighth Company?" Feran asked.

  "For now. You seem to be working things out with Jultyr."

  "He's seen enough to realize what you are. He also asked. I told him you'd entered service really young and been a militia scout, a Matrite captive, and then a squad leader, and all the militia history." Feran smiled. "I think he was more impressed that you were a squad leader for the Matrial and escaped."

  "If that's what he likes, that's fine."

  "If I might ask…" Feran began…"about the inspections?"

  "The same as the drills. Sloppy gear in Twenty-eighth, what you'd expect of decent raw lancers in Thirty-fifth." Alucius could sense someone coming, and he turned to see Marshal Frynkel walking alone across the paved courtyard of the post toward them. Alucius waited, hiding a smile as Feran eased away.

  "Majer?"

  Alucius looked at the marshal. "Sir?"

  "I have been talking with Majer Fedosyr. He is rather distraught about your exercises of yesterday. Most distraught, I would say."

  "Sir?"

  "He feels that it was highly unfair to place lancers just out of training against a battle-tested company of veterans."

  "I would agree with the majer, sir," Alucius replied. "That was exactly why I did it. Battle isn't a question of fairness. It's a question of who's more skillful and who's better trained and better led. The sooner these new lancers understand that they're no match for experienced lancers, the sooner they'll be ready to listen and to learn."

  "I had told the majer that I thought that was your rationale." A faint smile crossed the marshal's face. "He feels that you may have an image of all Southern Guards as being less… able."

  While Alucius harbored some suspicions along those lines, he wasn't about to voice them. "I don't believe I've ever said or even hinted that, sir."

  "Nonetheless, the majer is quite concerned."

  "I appreciate his concerns, but I need to have these lancers ready to accept more rigorous training and understand why it's necessary."

  "In fact, the majer would like to uphold the ability of the Southern Guard in a demonstration match against you
."

  "Is that necessary?" Alucius asked cautiously. Although he'd mentioned to Feran the possibility of such a match against the best blade in the two companies, he'd decided against it as unnecessary when the skirmish exercises had turned out the way that they had.

  "The majer believes it is necessary, and since he does, and since it is likely that many follow his views, I fear I must concur."

  "Yes, sir. When does the majer suggest that this take place?"

  "Within the glass. Here in the courtyard. He does not wish to disrupt your training schedule unduly, but he feels that for you to proceed under a misapprehension would not be wise."

  "I can understand misapprehensions, sir."

  "Majer Fedosyr is considered one of the best blades in the Southern Guard, and he would like to demonstrate that the Southern Guard is indeed expert with weapons. He would like to have all the lancers in the post watching."

  "If you feel it necessary, I would be more than happy to engage in such a demonstration with Majer Fedosyr," Alucius replied. "Our exercises have been using rattan blades…"

  "I believe that Majer Fedosyr might find that… less than satisfactory." Frynkel frowned. "Yet I would find it disturbing if you were unable to carry out the Lord-Protector's wishes."

  Alucius ignored the presumption implied by the marshal. "Perhaps you could suggest to Majer Fedosyr that we begin with rattan, and that if he finds rattan unsatisfactory, we could resume with our own sabres."

  "He might be amenable to that. In half a glass?"

  "Yes, sir."

  After the marshal turned and walked back toward the headquarters building, Alucius walked the gray back inside the stable and stalled the big gelding. Feran followed, also with his own mount. Alucius did not unsaddle his mount, but left the stall carrying the rattan wand. He stopped in the open space beyond the stall as Feran approached.

  "Fedosyr's looking for an excuse to kill or disable you," Feran said in a low voice. "Humiliate you at least."

  "Whatever makes you think that of the most honorable majer?"

  "My high opinion of him, I guess," Feran replied, deadpan.

  "I thought it might be something like that."

  "What will you do?"

  "Begin by acting in the most honorable way and assume that he won't. Then only appear to act honorably while doing what's necessary."

  "You're using a lot of words."

  "How about: Wait he until he tries something dirty, then do it worse before he can?"

  "I like that better," Feran said.

  "I'm also going to my quarters for a few moments. I'll be back shortly. I need to get a few things."

  "Good idea."

  Alucius walked quickly from the stable to his quarters, where he stripped off his tunic and donned the padded nightsilk vest that had stood him in such good stead in the past. He'd end up sweating profusely by the time everything was over, but that was a price he was more than willing to pay, especially given his distrust of Fedosyr. Then he made his way back to the stable.

  Feran was not there, but returned shortly. "You're wearing the vest, aren't you?"

  "Wouldn't you?"

  "Might be a good idea to wear it all the time around these sand-snakes."

  Alucius laughed.

  "I told Jultyr and Deotyr to have their men form up in a square in the courtyard to watch the demonstration suggested by the marshal. Also told Fifth Company."

  "Was there any reaction?"

  Feran's lips quirked. "Egyl suggested that the marshal must not care much for Majer Fedosyr. Either that, or he didn't understand herders."

  "It could be both. We'll see."

  "The other companies are already forming up—Eighth Company and the two others stationed here."

  The last thing Alucius wanted was a sabre match in front of five hundred lancers, but upon reflection, he couldn't say that he was surprised. He spent the next quarter glass doing some stretching and bending exercises. Then, he picked up his rattan wand and walked out toward the open square area formed by the gathered lancers. There were indeed at least five companies arrayed in the post courtyard.

  Alucius stopped at the southern edge of the open space, in front of Fifth Company. He still wore his sabre in the belt scabbard. The murmurs of low voices filled the area with a low, whispering rumble.

  Majer Fedosyr was already out in the courtyard, standing beside the marshal. As soon as Frynkel caught sight of Alucius, he said a few words to Fedosyr. Then the marshall stepped into the center of the area flanked with lancers. The murmurs died away.

  "We're very fortunate to have two exceptional officers here at Krost Post. Many of you know Majer Fedosyr, who is renowned for his skill with a blade and for his long and devoted career in the Southern Guard. Majer Alucius of the Northern Guard is also renowned and highly decorated. They will be demonstrating skill with weapons." The marshal nodded and stepped back.

  With the rattan wand in hand, Alucius moved forward into the open space, smiling, but listening to the murmurs from the ranked lancers.

  "Except for that gray hair… looks younger n' a fresh captain…"

  "… think he's all that good?"

  "… no one's as good as Majer Fedosyr…"

  "… say that this majer decorated for bravery everywhere…"

  "… doesn't make him a good blade…"

  Alucius agreed with that, but bravery didn't make a man a poor blade, either.

  After a moment, Fedosyr stepped away from where he had stood beside the marshal on the northern side of the rough square.

  Alucius studied the majer closely. Fedosyr was a big man, a fraction of a span taller than Alucius and well muscled, but not fat, and he carried himself with a certain litheness. Fedosyr was not ifrit-possessed, but Alucius was sure now that he could detect the faintest hint of purpleness to the man's lifethread—much as he had felt with Colonel Weslyn. Yet the colonel and the majer had never met. Of that, Alucius was most certain.

  Alucius stopped a good yard short of Fedosyr and bowed slightly. "Majer."

  "I applaud your caution in suggesting rattan, Majer, if not your confidence," said Fedosyr.

  "I am most cautious, Majer," Alucius replied politely.

  "That is obvious." Fedosyr raised his wand.

  Alucius matched the gesture, reading with eyes and Talent the next move. He began the parry almost as Fedosyr eased to one side and swept in from Alucius's right.

  For the first moments, Alucius reacted and observed. To him, it was obvious that he was faster than Fedosyr and able to anticipate.

  Fedosyr seemed to stumble, going down slightly into not quite a crouch. Alucius sensed the feint and gave the faintest hint of trying to test Fedosyr's less protected side. Fedosyr came out of the crouch in a focused attack, but Alucius had anticipated the attack and struck.

  In an instant, Fedosyr's wand lay on the ground.

  "You couldn't do that with real weapons," the Southern Guard officer said.

  "Actually, it would be easier with a real sabre," Alucius replied. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back, realizing that Fedosyr was so hotheaded that he would take them as a challenge.

  "Then we should try real sabres." Even before he finished the words, Fedosyr's hand went to the sabre at his side. He kicked the rattan wand away, and a lancer ran up and took it away.

  Alucius stepped back, then half threw, half slid the rattan wand across the pavement stones of the courtyard in the general direction of Feran. His own sabre was in his left hand before the wand scraped across the stones to stop short of Feran's feet.

  Fedosyr's sabre glinted in weak morning light, polished and clearly sharpened to a razor edge. A duelist's edge, Alucius noted, as brought his own blade into a careful guard.

  The Southern Guard majer attacked, furiously but deliberately, keeping himself well balanced.

  Alucius circled away, easily parrying or slipping the other's blade, not giving any openings.

  "You se
e… not so easy with real blades," Fedosyr murmured.

  It wasn't, not when Alucius didn't really want to injure or kill the other man. He continued to parry and defend, his own sabre weaving a defense that Fedosyr could not penetrate.

  As the moments passed, Fedosyr's attacks grew sharper. Then for a moment, the taller man eased back, far enough back that Alucius did not press. Fedosyr blotted his forehead with the back of his sleeve, then his hand dropped to his belt, as if to wipe the sweat away. Except Alucius could sense that Fedosyr had something in his hand.

  The Southern Guard officer held his free hand out more to the side, as if to balance himself, then rushed Alucius.

  Alucius could sense the colorless powder that flew toward his face and eyes almost from the moment that Fedosyr released it. Instead of parrying or blocking the other's thrust, Alucius darted sideways—but only for an instant. Even so, Alucius could feel the burning on the side of his neck where some of the colorless powder had grazed him.

  Fedosyr hesitated for a moment, as if unsure whether his powder had done its work, and in that instant, Alucius attacked—for the first time. At the last instant, Alucius turned the blade. Even so, there was a dull crack of bones breaking as the flat of the sabre slammed across Fedosyr's wrist.

  The polished sabre clanked on the stones.

  "I apologize, Majer," Alucius said quietly, "but I don't like duelist's tricks."

  Fedosyr's face had drained of color. He just looked at Alucius blankly for a moment. Then his left hand darted toward his belt.

  Alucius took two steps forward before Fedosyr managed to fire one shot from the small pistol. The shell slammed into the left side of Alucius's chest, not quite at the shoulder, staggering him, but he managed to hang on to the sabre just long enough for his right hand to grab it and use it to slash back across Fedosyr's neck.

  Fedosyr didn't even look surprised as his lifeless body slumped to the ground.

  Alucius forced himself to bend down and wipe his blade on Fedosyr's tunic. He straightened and sheathed the sabre. Then he walked slowly toward the marshal.

  "… shit… how could the majer miss?"

  "… didn't miss… see how Majer Alucius staggered…"