Corean Chronicles 3 - Scepters

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  "Tarolt… I know I should have come earlier. I felt I had to come," began Halsant, "but… I didn't find out until late last night. I was working late on the ledgers at the warehouse… and it was only when I came by the house and saw the lamp on. You know… Father got most angry if anyone entered his study, even with Mother."

  "Halsant. What happened?"

  "Father's dead. It must have happened after the colonel came."

  "After the colonel came? Could you please tell me what happened? In order, if you could manage that?" Tarolt's firm words verged on cold and cutting.

  "Colonel Alucius came by yesterday morning. By the warehouse, I mean, and he was looking for Father. He said several people had suggested he talk to Father, but he didn't say who. I told him Father was at home. He thanked me, and he left." Halsant blotted his brow, sweating despite the chill from which he had emerged. "Mother said he—the colonel—came to the house. He didn't stay long. Mother heard a thump, but she didn't think much of it, because Father threw things sometimes. Especially when he was angry, and the colonel would make any trader angry these days. Anyway… Father hadn't left the study, and she was worried, but…"

  "But what?"

  "She wouldn't go in. So I did. He was dead. There wasn't a mark on him. I think… whatever the colonel said must have made him so angry that his heart stopped. You know what a terrible temper he sometimes had." Halsant blotted his face once more. "Anyway, I thought you should know, but it was well after dark last night. So I came first thing this morning."

  Tarolt nodded slowly. "I appreciate your riding out here to tell me. It must be a terrible loss to you and to your mother."

  "She doesn't know what to do."

  "I'm certain you can take care of everything, and I will certainly offer any advice and support you need."

  "Thank you."

  Tarolt looked toward the door. "I wouldn't want to keep you from your family right now. They'll be needing you, and once you're more settled we can talk. We will talk."

  A faintly dazed expression crossed Halsant's face at Tarolt's last words.

  "You'll talk to me before you do anything with his study, of course."

  "Of course."

  "Now… you need to see to your family."

  "I need to see to my family." Halsant nodded dazedly and turned.

  Only after Tarolt had watched the young trader ride back eastward toward Dekhron did he return to the study.

  "What was that all about?" asked the pale and stocky man in a maroon tunic.

  "We had a visitor, Sensat. He had to tell me something. Most important." Tarolt glanced around the oak-paneled study, his eyes flicking across the hundreds of books shelved there before dropping back to the other. "Have you found anything else?"

  "No. I doubted that there would be even before you purchased all those volumes from Borlan. I told you that. Those who wrote books wouldn't be the ones who knew where the scepters might be. Or even where the old maps would be."

  "There must be a hint… somewhere… about the scepters."

  "You said we did not need them. Rather firmly, I recall."

  "That was not quite what I said, Sensat. I said we would not need them if the ancient ones and the herder colonel did not become involved. More precisely, we do not need them, but they could be dangerous in the hands of the herder."

  Sensat's fine black eyebrows arched as he tilted his head and placed the volume bound in burgundy leather on the long table beside which he stood. "And they have suddenly become involved?"

  "Halanat was killed earlier today. His son and widow say that he was visited by the colonel just before that."

  "Murder's still a crime. That would solve dealing with the colonel."

  "It would be hard to prove. Halanat's heart stopped. There wasn't a mark on him. He had a heart attack. They all think he was so upset by the colonel that it happened after the colonel left."

  "It didn't, of course."

  Tarolt snorted. "His lifethreads were severed, I'm sure. That was what the colonel did to Enyll. Even for an Efran, that's hard to tell unless you're present. The traces are faint and vanish soon. No one here would be able to tell anything except that his heart stopped. It did, of course, but not in that order."

  "You don't think it was an ancient one?"

  "No. It had to be the colonel. I would have felt it, even from here, if there had been a lifeforce drain, at least from them. So it was just a severing."

  "What do you plan? Are you going to see Trezun and use the Table?"

  "I think I'll wait until the colonel comes to see me. He will, sooner or later, and it is always better to deal with Talent from a position of strength."

  "What if he does not come to you, the way he did to Halanat?"

  "Then one way or another, we'll ride to Salaan and entice him into following. He might anyway."

  "You want him to know that there is a Table in Salaan? He has no reason to suspect that, and you want to let him discover that?"

  "We cannot assume that he is that ignorant. Not now," Tarolt pointed out. "He destroyed one Table. Besides, he will sense a Table there, and that will be a great temptation."

  "He destroyed the Table in Tempre."

  "That was an ancient Table, one weakened by age and misuse. We would have had to replace it shortly, in any case. Waleryn and you are supposed to be working on that, are you not?"

  "Waleryn should be in Norda, but he has not finished rebuilding the Table there. You had said he was to work on the Table in Tempre after Norda."

  "You hope Waleryn is in Norda?"

  "There is no way to tell, Tarolt. You know that."

  Tarolt offered a cold smile.

  Sensat frowned. "Do you think it is wise to let the colonel near a Table? That could be risky."

  "Only to him. Besides, where could he go? To Prosp? Or to one of the inactive Tables? Translating there could kill him. In any event, one fully translated Efran should be more than enough, even to deal with an ancient one. I would rather deal with him here, but if he does not come close here, we will not take chances. We will deal with him from even greater strength in Salaan." Tarolt glanced toward the door to the study.

  "While we wait, might I continue perusing these?" Sensat gestured toward the burgundy volumes on the table.

  After a moment, Tarolt laughed. "You will have plenty of time. The colonel has begun to learn patience, though it will avail him little."

  Chapter 121

  The Hidden City, Corns

  « ^ »

  Wendra woke. She was lying on a bed wide enough for two, in a cramped fashion, looking up at a ceiling of amberlike stone. She scrambled upright, looking for Alendra. The carrypack on her chest was empty. She bolted for the doorway, but the silver door lever was unmoving, as solid as if it had been carved from amberstone in one piece with the door itself.

  She turned, forcing herself to take in the room around her. The walls were of the same polished amber as the ceiling. The room's single window showed the cloudless silver green sky of Corus. For a moment, she looked dully at the window. Then she realized that she had never seen glass so clear, and that it was set not in wood, but in a shimmering silvery metal that could not have been silver.

  Wendra hurried to the window. She pressed the flat bracket to one side and slid the window open. A blast of winter-cold air whipped around her, and as quickly as she had opened the window, she closed it. So cold was that air that even her nightsilk undergarments, her winter shirt, and vest were insufficient to offer much protection against that rush of frigid air.

  Standing at the closed window, she looked out. Immediately, she could see that she was in a tower. Below were other buildings that extended a good vingt from the tower. The buildings ended at a circular wall, and both wall and buildings were of the same amber stone. Beyond the wall was white sand that shimmered and glittered in the afternoon sun. Even farther to the west was a rampart of dark rock, along the top of which ran green-tinted crystal oblongs.

&nb
sp; Wendra turned from the window, looking back into the room, wedge-shaped and far narrower at the end with the door. She walked to the door, golden wood without windows or peepholes, and a single lever handle of the same metal as the window casements.

  Extending her Talent to the door, she tried to move the door lever, but it did not budge. Was there a lock somewhere? Alucius had mentioned something.

  She could sense a greenish radiance behind her and looked toward the window. When she looked back, the soarer had appeared within a yard of her. The soarer's shape was shrouded by the golden-tinged green mist that acted as a garment, but her form was feminine. Her brilliant green eyes were clear, and deep… and very old, so old that Wendra took an involuntary step backward—until Wendra saw that in the soarer's arms rested a smiling Alendra. From the lifethread, Wendra could tell that her daughter was healthy and happy, but she rushed forward and swept Alendra into her arms.

  "Why am I here? Why?" Wendra's words echoed through the tower room. "Why did you take my daughter?"

  The hidden city. It is not for you. Not once you are prepared to do what must be done. We only took your daughter because she awoke before you, and we did not wish her to be distressed. Although the soarer did not speak her words aloud, they were as clear as if she had.

  "But why?"

  Because it is necessary.

  "Necessary?"

  We will teach you all that we taught your mate, while he searches for you.

  "Why did you take me?"

  You are the key to whether your people survive, and we would have you survive, if only for our own foolish pride. Dry humor colored the words. Pride is what little remains to us.

  "Me? How can I be key? Alucius has the great Talent. Not me."

  You have the same potential as does he. The ifrits must be stopped. They should not be allowed to destroy world after world. Your mate will do only what he must. He would not have acted in time, had we not taken you.

  "That is evil…" Wendra protested.

  Well that may be, but it is an evil less ill than watching our—and your—world be bled to death.

  "What if he doesn't find me?"

  He will not find you.

  The certainty in the soarer's words chilled Wendra.

  You must learn greater use of your Talent. We will try to teach you. If you learn, you may rejoin him in his efforts against the ifrits.

  "How do you know he will fight them?"

  He has no choice.

  "What if I cannot learn what you want?"

  Then, in time, you also will perish, for the ifrits will seek you out and use your body and expunge your mind. In greater time, all that you know and love will also perish.

  Wendra was silent, trying to assimilate what the soarer had said. If she did not learn, she and all she loved would be lost?

  Now… you will learn more about the threads of life, and how they may be mended—and unraveled… and how you may do so more quickly…

  Wendra swallowed. But she listened, and she held Alendra tightly.

  Chapter 122

  « ^ »

  Alucius had heard nothing about Halanat on Septi, nor during the day on Octdi. Nor had the feeling from the wristguard changed. He tried not to pace too much in his small study, but he couldn't help but worry about Wendra—and about Tarolt, the shadowy trader that everyone followed but was never seen. Alucius had to believe that Tarolt was another ifrit, but he was hesitant to confront another trader immediately. He had the feeling that the meeting would be just like the one with Halanat—and that only one person would leave. Having two traders drop dead after meeting with him within days wasn't something he wanted to deal with, and the alternative was worse. At the same time, he worried about what might happen if he didn't do something fairly soon. He didn't want to deal with an attack by the Regent and whatever Tarolt might be planning at the same time.

  He struggled through more inventories and planning, and reports, all the while trying to reach some decision on how to deal with Tarolt. Finally, late on Octdi, Alucius looked into Feran's study for the third time in less than a glass, but this time Feran had returned.

  "Yes?" asked the older officer. "Did you need something? I was out going over some things with Faisyn, and the schedule for replacements from Sudon."

  "How about some supper at the Red Ram? I'll pay."

  "That's a hard offer to refuse," Feran replied with a grin, "even for a newly affluent majer." He set aside the dispatch he had been reading and stood. "That can wait. It's basically a report from Soulend saying how cold it's been and how nothing has happened since harvest."

  "What does Sordet want?"

  "Replacement lancers for those whose terms are up, and some assurance for two squad leaders that they can actually get stipended."

  "The Lord-Protector pays the stipends these days, but Frynkel's been delaying them by a season. He hasn't said whether that applies here. I don't like doing that…"

  "But you're thinking about it?" asked Feran.

  "I worry that we don't have enough experienced squad leaders and that the ones we promoted to captain need all the experienced squad leaders they can keep for at least a month."

  "So that just before the Matrites attack, we get rid of the stipended ones?" Feran's voice was dry.

  "You're right. Do you think we ought to promote early, and overlap?"

  "That might not be a bad idea." Feran reached for his riding jacket. "You'd better get your jacket. It's as cold as Soulend outside."

  "Winter's supposed to be ending."

  "Tell the wind out there that."

  Alucius reclaimed his own riding jacket, and the two walked out of the headquarters building, across the courtyard, and through the narrow archway in the south wall, turning west toward the tavern.

  Despite the signboard with the ram upon it, more a nightsheep painted in red than a town sheep, most of the Guard officers called the old red-stone building on the corner after the proprietress—Elyset's.

  The graying Elyset was the one to meet Alucius and Feran. Her eyes sparkled, and she looked at the insignia of both collars. Then she smiled. "You two have come up in the world—especially you, Colonel. The last time you were here… was it majer?"

  "It was." Alucius couldn't help grinning. "The last time I was here, you told me about the chicken, but I'd been hoping for quail."

  Elyset laughed, but the sound died away quickly. "I didn't remember last time, but you were the one who stopped the barbarians in Deforya and got decorated by the Lord-Protector. Right?"

  "Unfortunately. Then, after a couple of years, he ordered me south, then back here."

  "Good thing. Guard hasn't done so well since then."

  "That's what I heard." Alucius paused, then added, "Might just be me, but I missed Colonel Clyon."

  Elyset snorted. "So did the few old-time officers left. Got word that they're happy to see you." So far.

  The proprietress turned to Feran. "You should have come here more often. Gheravia was asking about you."

  "Now that I'm a majer, you mean?" parried Feran.

  "She liked you when you were a captain, Majer."

  Feran shook his head, as if to deny it.

  "She did, but… I'd better get you two settled." Elyset turned and escorted them to a corner table, one adjoining the hearth, in which several large logs were burning on a deep bed of red and white coals. "Good table here for a chill evening."

  Alucius settled himself into one of the four armless wooden chairs, the one of the two that afforded a view of the front entrance. Feran settled into the other one.

  "Don't have quail today, but the noodles and fowl are good. Cutlets are tough. Wouldn't even have 'em to serve, except some of the senior rankers, they won't eat anything else."

  "Habits." Alucius laughed.

  Elyset bent down, leaning toward Alucius, and lowered her voice. "Tarolt and Halanat been talking about you, I think… herder majer and then colonel… Don't know why… thought you ought to know."<
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  "Thank you. Can you tell me what Tarolt looks like? " Alucius kept his voice low.

  "White-haired, sturdy, eyes sort of purple, white skin—got little hands and a mean smile. Always wears black. Built a new place out on the point. Only house there, now that Hanal's place burned down. Didn't tell you that." Elyset shrugged and straightened.

  "Appreciate the tip about the cutlets," Alucius said loudly, winking and managing to slip a silver from his wallet and into Elyset's hand.

  "You don't like something, and you don't come back. We always need people to come back." She grinned. "Even if it takes some herders years and becoming a colonel."

  "But they remember," he returned.

  "That's what we hope. Grenna will be along in a few moments."

  Despite the banter that had surrounded Elyset's warning, the whole exchange left a cold feeling in Alucius's guts, especially since the proprietress had no sense of purpleness. He glanced around the Ram, but only two other tables were taken, one by a grizzled crafter with a woman clearly not his wife, and the other by two bravos in brown.

  "What did she say?" asked Feran.

  "Told me that Tarolt and Halanat had been talking about me."

  "Speaking of Halanat… Sanasus said he died yesterday. Found him dead last night. Didn't you go see him yesterday morning?"

  "I did. He was the trader, or his wagons were, who was supplying the prophet. They had the same silver-wheel sign. I found that out. We exchanged a few words, and then I left. I don't think he was very happy with me." Again, everything Alucius said was true, but not the whole truth.

  "Must not have been. Word is that he got so angry his heart stopped."

  "It couldn't have happened to anyone who deserved it more," Alucius said dryly. "Not that it will stop his son from doing the same sort of trading if he gets the chance. I also think Tarolt's tied up in it all, but there's no real proof there. I'll have to look into that before long."