Corean Chronicles 3 - Scepters

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Alucius almost wanted to call off the attack as the veterans of Fifth Company picked off rebel lancer after rebel lancer. The shots from the Thirty-fifth and Twenty-eighth Companies rained more destruction on those remaining.

  The remaining rebels, less than a squad's worth, now unsheathing blades, were less than a hundred yards from Twenty-eighth Company.

  "Cease fire! Cease fire! Fifth Company, charge!" Alucius slipped his rifle into its case and drew his sabre.

  The sound of rifles died away, to be replaced with the drumming thunder of hoofs on the weary pastureland and road as Alucius led the charge toward the depleted rebels.

  He would have expected the rebel lancers in the rear ranks to have turned as he and the lancers from Fifth Company bore down on them from behind. Not a one did.

  Alucius cut down two men from behind, his guts churning as he did.

  Within moments, not a single rebel remained mounted. One rebel, his arm mangled, struggled to his feet and raised a blade, staggering toward a Guard lancer looking the other way.

  Crack! A single rifle shot brought the rebel down.

  Alucius glanced to see Egyl holding his rifle.

  Several more shots rang out, cutting down rebels who tried to bring blades or rifles from standing or sitting positions on the road. Then there were no more shots.

  "Fifth Company! Re-form on me!" ordered Feran.

  A good thirty rebel mounts milled among bodies and the Fifth Company lancers as they moved to the southwest side of the road.

  "Captain Jultyr! Set a detail to capture the rebel mounts!" Alucius called out.

  "Yes, sir. Third squad! Get those mounts and form them up behind fifth squad."

  Feran eased up beside Alucius. "One man got a shallow slash. No other casualties."

  "No casualties in Thirty-fifth Company," reported Jultyr, riding by and supervising his third squad.

  "Thank you." Alucius paused for a moment. "Well done."

  As the chaos began to sort itself out, Alucius glanced from the fallen rebels, bodies strewn everywhere, and the riderless mounts to Captain Deotyr, who rode toward him.

  "Two men killed, sir, three wounded. No captives."

  "Thank you, Captain. You did well to hold there."

  Neither Thirty-fifth Company nor Fifth Company had suffered any casualties. None at all. Twenty-eighth had lost two more lancers, and three others had taken wounds from which they should recover. Alucius's force had been through three skirmishes, or perhaps a small battle and two skirmishes, and he'd lost something like ten men, with slightly more than that wounded, and they had killed close to two hundred rebels. So why was he so worried?

  Because, once again, the rebels had fought to the death? In the heat of battle, Alucius hadn't wanted to order a capture, not when it would have risked his own men in such an effort to capture a fanatic.

  Deotyr remained motionless, looking at Alucius.

  "You're wondering why I set the companies as I did?" Alucius asked.

  "No, sir… well…" Deotyr didn't quite meet Alucius's eyes.

  "There were several reasons. First, Twenty-eighth Company had taken the most casualties before today." Alucius offered a bitter laugh. "I put your company farther away than Thirty-fifth, with the hope that you wouldn't suffer as many casualties. I was wrong. The rebels seem to attack directly along the road."

  "I don't think any of us would have seen that, sir."

  Alucius should have, but he let that pass. "Second, Fifth Company is more experienced, and third, your rifles have more range."

  "More range?"

  Alucius repressed a sigh. "Captain, your rifles are smaller bore. They're more accurate over a longer range, and your magazines carry twice as many cartridges. Because your men aren't as experienced, putting them where I did equalized the rates of fire."

  Deotyr nodded, and Alucius could see the understanding. The captain turned his mount back toward Twenty-eighth Company.

  Alucius surveyed the bodies on the road again. They'd need to search them, at least quickly, and salvage ammunition and supplies—and see if there were any written orders.

  He had ridden to Hyalt thinking that he would not enter the area and immediately start killing people. He snorted softly to himself. He hadn't. He'd gotten near Hyalt, and the rebels or invaders or whatever they were had started attacking his forces, leaving him no choice but slaughter.

  But why?

  He had no idea, and he certainly didn't like being put in positions where he had no choice but slaughter. Before they entered another skirmish he needed a captive—if he could get one, somehow. He had no doubts that there would be another skirmish or another fight.

  He looked back at the bodies once more.

  Chapter 55

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  Octdi morning dawned with clouds and a light drizzle, barely enough to wet the dust on the road, but enough to make the southern late-harvest warmth feel uncomfortably muggy, at least to Alucius, especially as he was wearing his nightsilk undergarments as well as the nightsilk herders vest under his tunic. Despite the moisture, the air still held the odor of wood and thornbush smoke, acrid and penetrating.

  The sentries had seen no one on the road through the night or in the morning, but Alucius was concerned enough that he had the companies on the road within a glass past dawn on the gray morning. According to the maps, the road they traveled would join another road in four to five vingts, and from Alucius's observations and calculations, that road was probably the one that led to the rebel camp they had surrounded with fire. The merged road turned northeast toward Hyalt. For the first several vingts, they had seen nothing, and the handful of steads they passed were empty. They showed signs of having been deserted, not in the past few days, but several weeks earlier.

  Alucius considered that the whole situation was upside down. He and his Guard companies were Lanachronan, but they were having to act as though they were invaders in their own land, and anyone away from the main force was definitely at risk. What was worse was that Alucius still knew very little about why this had happened, except that somehow the ifrits were involved. That didn't make much sense, so far as he could determine, because Hyalt was as far as one could get—with the possible exception of Soupat—from other major towns and cities in Lanachrona. It wasn't on the direct route to anywhere, such as cities like Borlan or Indyor, and even the Regent of the Matrial couldn't have gotten to Hyalt by any major high road directly. There were no ifrit ruins or, so far as stories went, no rumors of a Table that might have been of use to the ifrits—unless there was one hidden somewhere. Yet matters were as they were, and Alucius had had few enough real choices.

  What was worse was that his efforts at individual scouting had lost him one scout, wounded another, and gotten another chased for vingts.

  On the other hand, anytime that they had encountered or found larger numbers of rebels it had been in a fighting situation where, when the dust had finally settled, there had been no survivors because any living rebel would keep trying to kill lancers until the rebel died.

  Alurius turned in the saddle toward Feran. "I'd like to send Waris out with some other lancers to see if they can scout that road up to the rebel camp—not too far—and capture a messenger—if they use them."

  "Capture?"

  "We have to get some information. There haven't been small groups of rebels or stead holders anywhere that we've been so far. If we can't capture a messenger, then maybe on the road toward Hyalt we can find a stead or two with someone there and find out something."

  "Wouldn't hurt," Feran agreed, turning in the saddle. "Waris!"

  Within moments, the scout had ridden forward, and Alucius had edged the gray to the right shoulder of the road, so that the three could ride abreast.

  "The majer has a job for you," Feran said.

  "Yes, sir?"

  Alucius looked at Waris. "The task is simple. Accomplishing it won't be. We need a captive lancer or armsman, one in good enough shape to answer quest
ions. There's a road ahead, a little over four vingts away, and it joins this one, and then the two run to Hyalt. The other road starts at the camp you scouted. There ought to be messengers or some travel along there. If there are just large parties, report back, and we'll try something else. Oh, and pick two or three others you think can help you."

  The scout looked to Feran. "Overcaptain, sir?"

  "Anyone but squad leaders or wounded."

  In less than a quarter glass, Waris and three other lancers had ridden off, ahead of the main force, past the scouts and outriders ahead of the column.

  A good glass passed, and the scouts had reported nothing, and while they had passed another five steads, all had been abandoned in the same fashion as those they had passed earlier. Then, the figure of Waris appeared, followed by four other mounts. Three held riders, and the fourth had a figure strapped across a saddle.

  "Column halt!" Alucius ordered.

  "Column halt," echoed back along the line of lancers.

  Waris rode slowly toward Alucius, then reined up. "We got a captive, sir."

  "Was it difficult?"

  "Wasn't too hard." A weary smile crossed the scouts lips. "We ended up shooting two. This one, we shot the mount, then shot him in the leg before he could get to his rifle. Took two of us to disarm him, and all of us to tie him up."

  Alucius wasn't surprised. Dismayed, but not surprised, as he looked at the prisoner, slung across the saddle of the mount behind Waris, hands tied behind his back, feet trussed together, and a gag tied across his mouth.

  "Sorry, sir. We had to tie him like that. He just tries to bite, kick, anything…"

  "Get him off the mount. Set him on the stones there." Alucius gestured toward a rough heap of stones that once might have been a stile across a sagging and neglected fence.

  "Yes, sir."

  Alucius dismounted and handed the gray's reins to Fewal, one of his messengers, then waited as the three lancers carried the bound captive to the stones and propped him against the bowed middle railing of the fence.

  "Did he say anything? Before you gagged him?"

  "Nothing. Maybe he doesn't speak Lanachronan."

  Alucius studied the captive. As he looked closely, he could Talent-sense what resembled a fine purplish mesh net that fit the captive like a glove. For a time, he just studied it until he could find the purplish nodes that held it. Once he found those, it was but an instant, and the net vanished.

  The captive fainted.

  "Sir…?"

  "He'll be fine in a few moments. You can ungag him now."

  It wasn't that long before the man looked up, an expression that was clearly fear as he took in Alucius and the uniform that he wore.

  Alucius pressed forward the feeling that the captive should be helpful… cooperative. There was no sense of resistance. After a moment, he asked, "Could you tell me your name?"

  The man looked at Alucius, wide-eyed, then lowered his gaze. "Escadt, sir. Of the Cadmians."

  "What are the Cadmians?"

  "We are. The Cadmians are the lancers of the prophet and the True Duarchy."

  "Why were you ordered to attack us?"

  "You are the evil northerners. You will keep the Duarchy from returning. All the land will die, and all our families will starve and perish without the Duarchy."

  Alucius glanced at Feran.

  "Why would we do that? We're all part of Lanachrona."

  "You are the lamaial of evil, the one who will use treason to destroy all that is good."

  "Who told you this?"

  "The prophet Adarat. He is the servant of the True Duarchy. He said that the man with the dark gray hair, the one who is not old, he is the lamaial. Adarat knows what is and what will be."

  Alucius had his doubts about that. "Who told Adarat this?"

  "He knows. He is the servant of the True Duarchy."

  That line of questioning wouldn't help, Alucius reflected. "How long has Adarat been in Hyalt?"

  "He has been here forever."

  "Forever?"

  The rebel shrugged. "The Temple of the Duarchy has been here so long as any can remember, and there has always been a prophet, and the prophet has always been Adarat."

  Alucius couldn't see much point in pursuing that. "How many camps with armed men are there around Hyalt? With Cadmians?"

  "I have heard that there are two. I only know of one, myself."

  "Where is the other one?"

  "I do not know for sure."

  "Where do you think it is?"

  The rebel shrugged. "They say it is on the Hill of the Dead to the northeast of Hyalt."

  "How many companies are there?"

  "I do not know."

  "How many lancers were there at your camp?"

  "I do not know."

  "How many do you guess that there were?"

  "Three hundred. That was before you northerners killed so many."

  "Until you attacked us, we never attacked or fired upon you," Alucius pointed out. "Why did you attack us?"

  "Because you are evil, and you would destroy the good of the True Duarchy."

  Alucius kept proving to himself that there was little point in following that line of questioning. "What is in the cave in the hillside?"

  "It is not a cave. It is the Temple of the True Duarchy."

  "Is that where Adarat is?"

  "I do not know…"

  "Does it have a Table of power?"

  "I do not know."

  "Have you seen a Table there?"

  "No, sir."

  "How many people remain in Hyalt?"

  "I do not know…"

  Even after almost half a glass of questioning, Alucius had learned only slightly more. The captive seemed to know very little beyond declaring the goodness of the Duarchy to come and the evilness of Alucius and his "northerners."

  Finally, Alucius nodded to Feran. "That's all for now. Keep him tied up, but don't gag him unless he causes trouble."

  "Egyl?"

  "Yes, sir. We'll take care of it."

  Midmorning came and went, and they reached where the roads joined, but saw no one and no signs of rebels. The air remained damp and more misty than actually drizzling. None of the scouts had seen any traces of another large body of rebels, and Alucius decided to continue northeast on the road toward Hyalt for the next three or fourth vingts, until they reached what the maps showed as a narrow hill road that actually connected with the road where his force had first camped north of Hyalt. Alucius didn't plan to take that road all the way back, but he liked the idea of having a way out, if necessary.

  In midafternoon, the company saw the first stead that was actually occupied, and within a quarter of a glass, Alucius was facing a round-faced older man with unruly curly gray hair and shoulders stooped from years of toil, a man of perhaps forty, whom the scouts had brought in. The stead holder trembled as he stood on the side of the road and looked at Alucius. The majer could sense the fear pouring from the man—as well as the faintest trace of the purplish miasma that seemed to touch all the people in Hyalt—or all those with whom Alucius had come in contact. He dissolved the purplish miasmatic net and tried to extend a sense of reassurance with his Talent, but the holder shivered even more.

  "Is that your stead?"

  "Yes… sir."

  "Is your family there?"

  "Spare them, sir… I beg you, spare them."

  "I have no intention of harming either you or them. I'm just trying to find out what has happened here in Hyalt in the last month."

  The holder said nothing.

  "What did happen?"

  "The prophet Adarat sent his disciples to disperse the lancers of evil. They refused to leave, and they were killed."

  "Did you see this?"

  "That is what the prophet said, and a prophet of the True Duarchy always tells the truth."

  "What about the traders and the crafters?"

  "Some of them fled. Those who would not accept the True Duarchy, but fleeing wi
ll avail them little. Before long, all of Corus will prosper under the return of the Duarchy."

  "Why has no one left Hyalt in more than a month?"

  "Why would anyone wish to leave when the True Duarchy is about to return?" A vaguely puzzled expression crossed the man's thin face.

  "How do you know that?"

  "The prophet Adarat said so. He is the servant of the True Duarchy. He knows what is and what will be."

  "Why do you fear us?"

  "You are the evil northerners. You will try to keep the Duarchy from returning. All the land will die, and all our families will starve and perish without the Duarchy."

  Alucius glanced at Feran, then back to the holder. "How do you know this? How do you know that this Adarat tells you the truth? Have you seen anyone besides him who would bring back the Duarchy?"

  "You are the lamaial of evil, the one who is old before his time, the one who will use treason to destroy all that is good."

  "Have you seen anything that would prove this?"

  "I know what I know, and the prophet Adarat knows what is and what will be."

  Alucius tried a few more questions, but the answers were invariably the same. Adarat was the prophet, and Adarat knew what was to be. Finally, he looked to the lancers standing five yards away, beside the rail fence. "Take him back to his stead. Let him go, but make sure you take care of yourselves."

  "Yes, sir."

  The holder did not look back as he was led away under the low clouds that had promised rain and delivered but an occasional drizzle.

  "Even the lancers of the Matrial weren't that bad," mused Alucius.

  "Coming from you, sir," Feran replied, "that doesn't make me feel especially good."

  Alucius walked slowly to the gray, untethered his mount from the rail fence, and remounted. He looked to Feran. "I don't think we'll get more answers, but we ought to try a few more holders, or their wives."

  The overcaptain nodded.

  Another two glasses later, after getting almost identical answers from two holders and the widow of a third, Alucius brought his force to a halt while he composed a message to Marshal Frynkel, one that summarized events so far, emphasizing the fanaticism of the rebels. Then he dispatched Hikal, along with two other lancers, northward to the last way station, from where the dispatch riders could take it to Tempre and the marshal. He told the three to remain at the way station until the force returned or until he sent orders, since he had no idea where his force might be in a few days.