Corean Chronicles 3 - Scepters

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Even from the west side of the road cut overlooking the high road, Alucius could tell that the Southern Guard encampment was deserted, except for scattered riders and wagons. Cook fires were out, and even the main road fort looked to have fewer lancers around and within the courtyard.

  "They've sent most everyone south," Feran suggested.

  "Where they'll arrive tired and suffer unnecessary casualties." Alucius stretched in the saddle. "We'll take a break for a glass. Make sure everyone eats and that the mounts are fed and watered. If you and the captains can weasel or beg more supplies quickly, do it."

  "You're not thinking… ?"

  "I still think we can pull out some sort of a victory, but it won't be easy, and finding supplies later is going to be tough."

  "Getting them any way is tough."

  "That's true," Alucius agreed. "Break for a glass. No more than a glass and a half." He reined up, trying not to think about what lay to the southeast.

  Chapter 89

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  While the three companies had taken a break and the officers had worked at getting more supplies, Alucius had gone to see if Marshal Alyniat had remained. But the marshal had reportedly headed southeast to direct the battles there, leaving but a junior captain and some messengers to relay information.

  Still, well before midmorning, Alucius and his lancers were back in the saddle again, this time headed east toward the other high road and its fort. They'd found little enough in the way of supplies, except travel bread and more cartridges for the Southern Guards. Another fight or two, and Fifth Company would be out of ammunition, but Alucius would have to worry about that later.

  The stillness of the early morning had given way to a cool wind out of the southeast, a wind that, for all its mildness, carried a hint of late fall or winter rawness. On the entire stretch of ring road between the two major road forts, they passed no one, except the handful of sentries. Most of them looked worried.

  After another break for rations and water at the eastern road fort, also largely deserted, they crossed the southwest high road and followed the ring road as it curved southward. To the southwest, Alucius could see thunderclouds building. The storms did not seem to be moving eastward but were hanging over the coast that he had yet to see.

  "You knew they wouldn't attack the road forts, didn't you?" Feran asked after a long period of silence.

  "I didn't know. I just thought it was unlikely. The Matrites don't usually fight as well, but in my experience they also don't make obviously stupid attacks. Attacking the road forts first would have been both obvious and stupid."

  "Are you trying to become arms-commander of all Lanachrona?" Feran's tone was humorous.

  "Legacies, no! I just want to get rid of the crystal spear-throwers and head back to the Iron Valleys. Sooner rather than later."

  "And what if the Lord-Protector has another one of his 'requests'? He doesn't seem inclined to let us go that easily."

  Alucius groaned. "It would have to be awfully convincing to make me stay… or ask Fifth Company to."

  "I'll remind you of that… Colonel."

  "I have no doubts about that," Alucius replied.

  "Good." Feran grinned, but the expression faded quickly.

  They rode south on the ring road for four glasses before reaching the southeast high road and another near-deserted Southern Guard encampment. After a half-glass break, they continued southward for close to another two glasses, to the outskirts of an encampment centered on a small road fort—a circular stone structure no more than ten yards in diameter and with walls not quite three yards high.

  A young-faced captain was stationed north of the encampment, mounted, with two lancers beside him. One held a thin sheaf of papers.

  "Column, halt!" Alucius ordered before riding forward, the late-afternoon sun slanting into his eyes.

  "Sir?"

  "Colonel Alucius, with the Fifth Northern Guard and Twenty-eighth and Thirty-fifth Southern Guard."

  "Yes, sir." The captain looked at the lancer with the papers.

  "Black."

  "The black area is yours, Colonel. Straight ahead and then downhill to the right. You'll see the black banners on poles. There should be rations and water barrels there."

  "Thank you."

  After they had passed the captain, Feran turned to Alucius. "I don't like it when they've got everything organized this way. It makes me feel like they've got a surprise I won't like. More than one."

  "They probably do."

  "You're being optimistic again, Colonel."

  "Comes from my cheerful nature."

  As they headed down the long and gradual slope westward from the ring road, following a path recently created by hundreds of mounts before them, both officers could see the open space marked out with four poles, each with a strip of black cloth. On a ground cloth were what looked to be some form of rations. Five large barrels were also set out at intervals. A single Southern Guard was stationed there.

  Alucius had barely reined up at the edge of the area, and had not even had a chance to dismount, before he saw Roncar riding toward him. The lancer's narrow face showed both concern and relief. "Sir!"

  "What is it, Roncar?"

  "Marshal Alyniat wants to see you. Right now, sir."

  "Where is he?"

  "He's in the tent, sir, there on the hill, just below the fort. He said that he wanted to see you as soon as you arrived."

  Alucius turned the gray.

  "Remember, Colonel," Feran called. "A very good reason."

  "I'll remember that, Overcaptain."

  Roncar eased his mount up beside Alucius. "The Matrites are only about five vingts south of here, sir. They hold the entire ring road from there to the ocean, and they've been moving north a few hundred yards at a time. They've used the other spear-thrower, and they haven't lost many lancers. The marshal's scouts say that they haven't moved toward the city, but they could at any time. After you smashed the crystal spear-thrower in the west, the companies he sent west have kept the ring road there, so there's not much danger yet of being attacked from the north and west on the ring road."

  "Thank you. Do you know what the Southern Guard casualties are?"

  "No one's saying, sir. Besides the two companies that they lost on the ridge, I've heard words that Colonel Cyrosyr and his force of six companies had been wiped out almost to the last man. Less than two squads remaining."

  That didn't surprise Alucius, but he had hoped that they wouldn't have to deal with the spear-thrower immediately. That hope appeared less and less likely.

  He reined up short of the lancers surrounding the tent, dismounted, and handed the gray's reins to Roncar.

  An undercaptain stood beside the guards. "Colonel Alucius?"

  Alucius nodded. "We just rode in."

  "The marshal's in the tent, sir. Just go on in. He said to send you in whenever you got here."

  "Thank you, Undercaptain." As Alucius stepped past the lancers, he caught the slightest whisper from the lancers well to the side.

  "…see all the blood…"

  "… you expect? That one's a fighting commander…"

  Stupid commander as well? Alucius wondered as he lifted the tent flap and stepped inside into an area no more than three yards by four.

  Alyniat was sitting on a stool before a small table strewn with maps. A lock of hair more silver than blond fell across his forehead, and the circles under his eyes were deep and black. He looked up from the maps at Alucius, taking in the bloodied uniform.

  "Sir," Alucius said.

  "You've made decent time, Colonel. I received your report about destroying the crystal spear-thrower and the annihilation of four to five Matrite companies." Alyniat paused. "I hate to sound ungrateful, but… couldn't you have found some way to capture it, Colonel? It would have been so much more useful to us that way, especially under the circumstances."

  For some reason, Alyniat's phrasing of "under the circumstances" grated on Alucius. "I'm
sure it would have been, sir," Alucius replied. "It's not designed to be captured."

  "Not designed to be captured?"

  "I can't explain, sir, but it's like… like gunpowder shielded by flame. You break through the flame, and the gunpowder explodes."

  "Use the equivalent of water, perhaps…"

  "I can only try."

  "If you don't capture one, only destroy them, what's to prevent them from building more?"

  "It takes years to do that, sir, and I understand it's most costly. If they even can."

  "Even can?" Alyniat raised his eyebrows.

  "The last time one was destroyed, there was only one engineer who knew enough to re-create it. It takes special equipment. I don't know if he is still alive."

  "Are you certain you can't find a way to capture one?"

  Alucius considered for a moment. Was there any way he could have stopped the device? Just stopped it? Finally, he spoke. "I couldn't find any way with the first one. I'll certainly keep that possibility open, sir, when we try to deal with the second one."

  "I'd be most grateful if you would. Our losses are not inconsiderable."

  "Where is the second one?"

  "Oh… about five vingts south of here, moving toward us. We're trying to slow them down with rifle fire from behind berms and the like, but the terrain here is far flatter than on the west side of Southgate. As you know, attacking it directly is foolish and fatal. They're advancing up the ring road with it as a spearhead. They haven't sent companies into Southgate yet, but if they can reach where we are now, we'll have to consider pulling out of Southgate."

  "As soon as the men get something to eat, and the mounts get some feed and water, we'll head south," Alucius said.

  "That might be for the best."

  Best for whom? It might be best for the Lanachronans and perhaps the people of Southgate, but it wasn't likely to be easy on Alucius and his forces. "Yes, sir."

  "Colonel?"

  "Sir?"

  "We've lost enough lancers that, even if you do destroy another five Matrite companies and the spear-thrower, no one will be calling you a hero."

  "Sir… I came here because I was asked to come. I didn't come to be a hero. And, sir, I didn't ask for that the last three times I've bailed out Lanachrona. Good day, Marshal." Alucius turned and slipped out of the tent. As he mounted the gray and rode back toward his companies, he knew he shouldn't have reacted so strongly, but all he wanted to do was to destroy the spear-thrower and return to the Iron Valleys. Even being colonel of the Northern Guard would be a pleasure compared to dealing with the politics of Lanachrona and the Southern Guard. And if his reaction to Alyniat made sure he wouldn't be colonel… well, that was fine, too.

  He was still seething when he reined up near Feran and dismounted, slipping the feed bag for the gray into place—a feed bag that Feran had thoughtfully readied.

  "You're angry," Feran observed. "What happened?"

  "The marshal suggested that even if we destroyed another five Matrite companies and the crystal spear-thrower, we wouldn't be heroes. He also wanted to know why we couldn't capture the weapon, rather than destroying it. 'That would have been so much more useful, Colonel.'" Alucius's mockery of Alyniat's words was edged.

  "And you still want to go after it?"

  "If we don't destroy it, we'll end up in a worse mess, and one that will have us fighting for our lives across the Iron Valleys, possibly in weeks, certainly in months." Alucius lifted his water bottle. It was empty. "Legacies! I need to refill the water bottles and get something to eat. How soon can we move out?"

  "As soon as your water bottles are full and the gray has some water," Feran replied. "Waris was nosing around, and the rumors are that the Matrites are less than five vingts south and moving forward behind the spear-thrower."

  "That's what the marshal said."

  "Sir!"

  Alucius turned. A lancer rode toward him bearing a small keg. The lancer was Skant.

  "Got a keg. Used to have ale, but I drew the water myself."

  "Thank you, Skant. I appreciate that." Alucius looked to Roncar. "Did you have a chance to refill your water bottles?"

  "Yes, sir. But thank you, sir."

  With Skant holding the keg, Alucius refilled all three bottles and replaced them in their holders.

  Within a quarter glass, the three companies were riding south on the ring road. As he rode southward, Alucius took out the maps and studied them once more. Unlike the northern section of the ring road, or the western and southwestern sections, the ring road to the east and south was much lower, rising less than ten yards above the arid rolling plains to the east. Even the lands inside the road were almost equally fiat. That gave whoever held the road a tremendous advantage.

  No matter how he looked at it, Alucius could come up with only one plan. He turned to Feran. "Do we still have spades?"

  "About ten in the ammunition wagon."

  "That will do."

  "Earthworks won't stand for long against the spear-thrower. You know that."

  "I know. But they'll last just long enough." Alucius went on to explain. "I want enough lancers to be firing at the Matrites that they don't study what's off to the side of the road where it looks clear."

  "You're thinking of being out front? "

  Alucius shrugged. "I can't see anything else that will work. Can you?"

  "One of these days, someone's going to shoot you."

  "They already have, you might recall. Several times."

  "You might not survive it the next time."

  Alucius laughed. "Anything else I can come up with means they get more shots at me."

  They'd ridden slightly less than a vingt when they saw about ten lancers moving slowly toward them in single file. All were wounded and splattered with blood.

  "Waris… if you could find out how far from here the fighting is?"

  "Yes, sir." The scout rode ahead to meet the retreating and wounded lancers before they reached Alucius and his companies.

  Waris returned shortly, as the wounded lancers moved single file on the west side of the road past Alucius's forces. The scout turned his mount to ride alongside Alucius and Feran.

  "The Matrites are a little more than three vingts ahead, according to the roadstones," Waris reported. "There's a Southern Guard force of about four companies maybe a vingt and a half in front of us, near the next set of sentry boxes."

  Alucius checked his maps. "That should do." He wondered who was in command of the Southern Guard forces.

  A vingt later, Alucius found out.

  The dark-haired colonel who rode toward the column looked familiar—Hubar. Alucius held in a tight smile. He shouldn't have been so hard on the man. Now, he'd probably end up paying something in return. At least, it wasn't Sarthat. That… that would really have made things difficult.

  "Colonel Hubar."

  Hubar looked at Alucius, taking in the majer-colonel's insignia on Alucius's tunic collar. "So… you think you can pull this out, Colonel?" The contempt in the older man's voice was barely veiled.

  "I won't know until we try, will we?" Alucius paused but briefly, then added, "We did manage to destroy the other crystal spear-thrower at around dawn this morning, and we've been making our way here ever since."

  Hubar studied Alucius and his uniform. "I suppose that explains the blood."

  "We also managed to kill about five companies of Matrites."

  Hubar looked at Alucius. "What do you want from us? I'd prefer no frontal charges, sir."

  "I don't want any. They'd just get lancers killed here." Alucius gestured to the small stone watch posts on each side of the road. "We'll be setting up a line of earthworks here, ten yards on either side of the road. A trench deep enough to protect a lancer from stray bullets."

  "That won't—"

  "I know. It won't stop the spear-thrower once it gets within a few hundred yards. But my lancers will be firing at a greater distance than that." Alucius turned in the saddle and gestur
ed to the low rise to the west and back north almost a quarter vingt. "I'd like most of your force formed up on that knoll—in a way that's visible for at least two vingts."

  Hubar frowned.

  "I don't want them to attack. I want the Matrites to be watching them. I'd like your men to fire at the Matrites near the edge of your range and keep it up until my lancers start firing. Then your men can pull back. They can use the back side of the knoll as cover and circle back to the ring road, if necessary. If we're successful, though, they should be prepared to join our companies in a full attack on the remaining Matrites. The Matrites should be disorganized, and the more lancers we can bring to bear, the fewer survivors they'll have."

  "Fewer survivors?" Hubar's mouth remained slightly open.

  "Neither the Lord-Protector nor Marshal Alyniat nor I want to fight this war again anytime soon. Wars are hard to fight without troops."

  "Yes, sir. That's if you and your men destroy or disable the spear-thrower. "

  "That's correct. You can watch Overcaptain Feran."

  "What about you?"

  "I'm part of the team assigned to destroy the spear-thrower. It takes a herder, and I'm the only one left around here."

  Hubar nodded slowly. "Well form up now."

  "Thank you."

  Hubar nodded brusquely, then rode back toward the ranked companies. Shortly, they began to angle down the slope on the western side of the road.

  Alucius turned to Jultyr and Deotyr. "You see what Colonel Hubar's doing?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "There's a similar rise out to the east, but it's forward of where we are. You're to place your companies in staggered firing order there. As soon as the Matrites come within the edge of your range, I want you to start firing on them. At that distance, I know you won't hit many, but I want you to keep firing until it looks like they're about to turn the spear-thrower on you. Then pull back about half a vingt and take what cover you can behind that next rise. If everything goes as before, something will happen to the spear-thrower, and that's when you'll join with Fifth Company and charge the survivors. Is that clear?"

  "Sir… did you mean that about slaughtering them all?"

  "I should have been more clear. If someone's down, disarmed, and disabled, don't bother with them. But no quarter for anyone who's fighting. There's no need to slaughter anyone who can't fight or isn't fighting."