Cadmian's Choice

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Cadmian's Choice Page 2

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.


  “The Myrmidons smashed some rebels in Hyalt, but not all of them. We’re being sent to finish the job. That includes training some local Cadmians in Southgate and on the ride from there to Hyalt. They’ll be manning a new garrison in Hyalt, and in addition to running down the remaining rebels, we get to supervise building the garrison and setting up the local structure there.” Mykel shook his head. “I know. They’re calling it a local garrison, but they’re taking recruits from Southgate. Officers and squad leaders, too.”

  “The hardasses, probably,” suggested Rhystan.

  “Almost certainly,” Mykel agreed. “The colonel emphasized that Third Battalion was in charge.”

  “When do we leave, sir?” asked Culeyt.

  “A week from Octdi, from Elcien….” Mykel went on to explain the schedule. As he did, he could only hope that he and his captains could make the next two weeks as effective as possible in improving the readiness and skills of Third Battalion.

  2

  Submarshal Dainyl looked out through the window of his study, out across the front courtyard of Myrmidon headquarters in Elcien. For a Londi, the first day of the week, the weather had been less than promising all day, and by midafternoon a light and cold spring rain fell from low gray clouds. His right arm and left leg still ached slightly, a reminder that they had not healed fully. Through Talent, both his and Lystrana’s, in another few days he would be close to being completely healed, but he was not going to be staying in Elcien so long as he would have preferred.

  The rain continued to fall heavily enough that he could not see beyond the walls of the compound to the towers that flanked the Palace of the Duarch to the east. When he’d been a colonel and the operations chief, he’d had a study with a view of the rear courtyard, and the flight stage where he’d been able to see the pteridons take off and land. He still missed being a flying officer. He supposed he always would.

  His eyes dropped to the stack of reports on the polished wood of the table desk before him. Colonel Dhenyr had brought them in less than half a glass before, just when Dainyl had thought he’d managed to get current on everything. He slowly picked up the top report and began to read. He needed to get through the stack, because he would be leaving on Tridi morning on his trip to Alustre. That gave him just two days to catch up on everything. The topmost quintal report was from Captain Fhentyl, the commanding officer of the Myrmidon Fifth Company in Dereka.

  Dainyl hurried through the text, looking to see if any more skylances had vanished, but Fhentyl’s report stated that all weapons and equipment were present and in working order. Dainyl nodded. The last thing he wanted to discover was that more skylances—or pteridons—had vanished. For the moment, at least, the ancients remained quiet. How long they would remain inactive was another question.

  He set aside the Fifth Company report and lifted the next one—Sixth Company at Lyterna. All was satisfactory there as well. As he set that report atop the Fifth Company report, a tall figure appeared in his study doorway—Marshal Shastylt.

  “Dainyl…if you would join me in my study.” The marshal was a typical alector in general appearance, somewhat over two and a half yards in height, with shimmering jet black hair, deep-set violet eyes that dominated, a strong nose, and an alabaster complexion.

  “Yes, sir.” Dainyl set aside the report and rose, following his superior officer out of the study and down the corridor to the end. He did close the study door behind him after he entered. Shastylt always preferred complete privacy when addressing his subordinates. Dainyl had learned that quickly years earlier when he had been promoted from command of First Company to the head of operations.

  As usual, Marshal Shastylt studied Dainyl as he entered Shastylt’s spaces. The marshal’s violet eyes were unblinking, his alabaster face smooth and pleasant, and a faint smile played over his lips. He seated himself and gestured for Dainyl to take one of the chairs across the table desk from him.

  “Are you ready to go to Alustre on Tridi? The Highest asked about that this morning.”

  “Yes, sir.” Dainyl kept his Talent shields tight and high, as he always did with the marshal and the High Alector of Justice. Once he had returned from resolving the rebellion in Dramur, he had hoped for more than a few weeks with Lystrana before heading to Alustre, since he and his wife had had little time together over much of the last year. Yet he knew that spring was the best time for him to be away from headquarters, since the indigens and landers usually were more occupied with their own affairs, especially those in the outlying regions where trouble seemed to brew. “After Alustre, I’ll visit a few other eastern areas, unannounced, as we discussed. While I’m there, is there anything else you’d like me to look into?”

  “No. Don’t spend too much time in the other cities, Alustre is most important. Tyanylt had planned to visit Alustre before his untimely death and the…difficulties in Iron Stem and Dramur. High Alector Zelyert has always been concerned that those in Alustre might develop a different interpretation of the plans of the Archon for Acorus. Unfortunately, the Recorders of Deeds can only use the Tables to view landers and indigens or physical events. Periodic visits to alectors and frequent personal communications remain one of the few reliable keys to assuring that all alectors are working toward the same goal in the same fashion.”

  The skills of the Recorders had only been revealed to Dainyl after he had become a submarshal, and he was just as glad they were unable to view alectors—or he had been until he had discovered some very real disadvantages for him personally. He nodded. “I remain concerned about the losses of pteridons—and about the loss of the Cadmian company on its relocation from Scien. Isolated losses of pteridons in high and cold areas where the ancients still have their portals—”

  “We don’t know that those are portals, Submarshal, not for certain.”

  “No, sir.” Dainyl offered an agreeable smile. He wasn’t about to reveal the extent of his Talent, not after years of keeping that hidden. “But I did observe the cave with the stone mirror in Dramur from a pteridon, and upon two occasions, there was an ancient present. When I landed, no one was there. There was no exit from the cave, and the mirror was placed where it would have been difficult if not impossible to climb down, and especially without being observed.”

  “They might have other abilities.”

  “That is certainly possible, sir. But when in doubt, I tend to follow the Views of the Highest.”

  “Ah, yes, Well…I will be spending much of the next few days with the High Alector and possibly the Duarches. Because I may not be here immediately before you depart, convey my best wishes to Submarshal Alcyna, and, should you see him, to High Alector Brekylt.”

  “He’s been the Highest of the East for as long as I can recall.”

  “Twenty-some years. It may be time for a change, but that is the decision of the Archon and the Duarches. He is one of the oldest alectors outside of Lyterna.”

  “He must know a great deal.” Dainyl briefly thought about asking, Just as Submarshal Tyanylt was? But the question would have served no purpose except to reveal that Dainyl knew more than Shastylt thought he did, particularly about the circumstances of Tyanylt’s death…and Dainyl was well aware that Shastylt already harbored suspicions about Dainyl.

  “That he does. He is cautious, and he and Submarshal Alcyna have worked closely together over the past ten years.”

  That was all Shastylt really had to say to confirm what Dainyl suspected—and why he was being sent to Alustre so soon after having been promoted to submarshal.

  “Did High Alector Brekylt ever serve as a Myrmidon?”

  Shastylt laughed. “That was not one of his qualifications. He was the High Alector of Trade in Ludar. His predecessor suggested that the Duarchy in Ludar be moved to Alustre, but nothing came of that after Viorynt’s Table accident, and Brekylt was appointed the High Alector of the East.”

  “I remember something about that.” Dainyl recalled that the Highest of the East had suffered a fatal
translation mishap using a Table to return to Elcien. That had occurred years ago, when Dainyl had been a junior captain in Lysia. With what Shastylt had just revealed, Dainyl doubted that the “mishap” had been coincidental in the slightest degree. “I can see why you feel communications with Alustre are most important.”

  “I thought you might once I mentioned the history.” Shastylt’s tone was dry. “Distance and time have a way of blurring matters.”

  “Does Alcyna have a husband? I don’t recall anything about that.”

  “No. She has always steered clear of obvious personal commitments.”

  And that was doubtless how she had become a submarshal, reflected Dainyl, before he went on. But then, Shastylt had separated from his wife years before, long before she had removed herself to Sinjin, and the marshal had followed that same pattern of avoiding deep personal commitments.

  “I’ve met Captain Josaryk before,” Dainyl said. “He seems straightforward enough. What about Majer Noryan? Is there anything I should know about him?”

  “He’s been in command of Third Company for almost five years. He was transferred from Seventh Company in Dulka something like seven years ago. Alcyna promoted him to majer three years ago, insisting that his value merited that.”

  “You had some concerns about that, sir?”

  “I did discuss it with the High Alector of Justice, but we decided that Alcyna had a valid point, although no one really knew much about Noryan.” Shastylt’s increasingly drier tone suggested to Dainyl that the decision had not been the marshal’s, but that of the High Alector.

  Abruptly, the marshal stood. “It’s getting late, and the High Alector is expecting me to join him to brief the Duarch on the situation in Hyalt.”

  “You don’t think we’ll need to send a squad of Myrmidons back down there?” Dainyl rose quickly.

  “I think the Cadmians will be sufficient.” Shastylt shrugged. “If not, we can have a squad there in less than two days.” He smiled. “I probably won’t see you much in the next few days. I wish you well in preparing to visit Alustre.”

  “Yes, sir.” Dainyl returned the smile, then turned and left the marshal’s study.

  Although he’d already briefed Colonel Dhenyr on what the operations chief would be covering for him, Dainyl still had another six quintal reports to read before he felt he could leave headquarters for the day. He was still struggling to get matters in order before he left, and wondering if two days would be enough.

  3

  Dainyl sat in the dim warmth of the corner of the sitting room on the main floor of the house, his half-sipped brandy on the side table that separated him from Lystrana. He shifted his weight, then settled back into the large upholstered chair that would have swallowed even the tallest of landers. Once the serving girls had left for their quarters after cleaning up the evening meal, Lystrana had blown out the wall lamps. The green carpet looked more like dark gray, even to the night-sight of an alector.

  He glanced at his wife. In the dimness, the alabaster skin of her face shone below the shimmering black hair that was the mark of all alectors—except the truly ancient ones.

  Lystrana smiled, warmly, but faintly. “You’re worried about going to Alustre tomorrow.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?” Dainyl laughed softly. “We’ve lost six pteridons in less than two seasons. With only eight companies of Myrmidons, that’s a concern, especially if the ancients are planning something. All but two have been lost east of the Spine of Corus, and that’s under Alcyna’s jurisdiction. Do you think she and Brekylt will be pleased to see me, especially under those conditions?”

  “You’ve never met her, have you?”

  “The last time I was in Alustre was something like thirty years ago as a captain. She was a senior majer, and not interested in a former ranker who would never be more than a captain.”

  Lystrana laughed. “She’ll have to talk to you now. You’re her superior.”

  “Technically, we’re equals.” He reached out and lifted the goblet, inhaling the aroma of the Syan Amber before taking a small sip and savoring it.

  “You’ve been designated as Shastylt’s successor.”

  “That can always change. Tyanylt was his successor.” Dainyl did not have to emphasize the irony of his words.

  “They won’t replace you immediately. They need you as an example.”

  “Ah, yes, the alector who rose through the ranks. I could almost do without that, except that you’re right. It would look untoward if anything happened to me immediately, unless, of course, it could be attributed to Alcyna and Brekylt.”

  “You think that Zelyert and Shastylt worry about Brekylt attempting to replace them?” asked Lystrana softly.

  “They’re worried, and because Zelyert’s recorder can’t tell what alectors are doing, I’m their stalking pteridon.”

  “No recorder can use a Table to view Talent, except an alector standing before a Table and using it. I certainly wouldn’t want them using one to watch us.” Lystrana gave a mock shudder.

  “For all that,” Dainyl went on, “I’m not certain that it’s just that they think Alcyna and Brekylt want to replace or remove them.”

  “What other reason could there be?”

  “What if they don’t want the Master Scepter to be transferred to Acorus? And Brekylt does? Or has proof that’s what they intend?”

  “You don’t believe that…?”

  “I don’t know, but I should have considered the possibility sooner. Zelyert has stressed the fragility of the ecology here and the slowness of lifeforce growth. He’s truly concerned about that, for whatever reasons he may have, and he’s hinted that lifeforce growth on Efra has been far easier and more productive than here on Acorus. He and the marshal disagreed with Tyanylt, and when I met with the Duarch, he said that Shastylt and Zelyert did not see everything, although they thought they did. Khelaryt also said that there was great danger in not transferring the Master Scepter here, because those who controlled Efra were even more calculating than those who claimed to serve him.”

  “If what Khelaryt says is true, that is a frightening prospect.”

  “I don’t think the Duarch was mistaken about any of that, even if he is shadowmatched to the needs of the Archon. I think he struggles against the shadowmatch conditioning.”

  “Anyone with Talent so great could not help but do so, yet the Duarches have such power that some restraint is necessary.” Lystrana sipped from her goblet. “There are so many currents beneath everything, and I fear they are strengthening.”

  “Can you tell me how? Or why?” Dainyl looked through the darkness at his wife, an alectress perhaps more powerful than he was by virtue of her position as the chief assistant to the High Alector of Finance in Elcien.

  “We’ve talked about it, dearest, over and over. Lifeforce on Ifryn is fading rapidly. There are fewer alectors on each world than the last, and yet the lifeforce needs are higher. I’ve heard rumors that more senior alectors are trying the long translation from Ifryn. My highest has reported that several wild translations have translated into Table chambers across Corus.”

  “What does a wild translation look like?”

  “Anything…half alector, half sandox, or part pteridon. Those are the commonest ones. The worse appear away from the Tables, anywhere on the world, and then vanish within a glass, their lifeforce spent. Those who almost make the translation appear in a Table chamber, in some monstrous form or another. They seem to be drawn by someone using the Table to travel or communicate.”

  “Now you tell me.” He paused. “Is that why some translations fail? What about the wild translations?”

  “That’s one reason. Some of the creatures—they’re creatures even if they were once like us—survive, and some do not, but those that do must be killed as well, because they have great strength and little intelligence.”

  Dainyl shook his head. “The more I learn, the more I fear.”

  “With each new world we transform, as Asulet
told you, we lose more knowledge and technology. Here on Acorus, no one realized that the ancients still survived—”

  “I wonder about that,” mused Dainyl. “I know Asulet is one of the oldest, and he’s close to the Duarch of Lyterna, if Lyterna had a Duarch, but he never said that. In fact, he’s hinted that everyone knew there were still ancients. Now…they might have died out had we not worked to increase and improve the life-forms.”

  “You think the Archon and his advisors miscalculated?”

  “Alectors must never miscalculate, according to the Views of the Highest. What is it?” Dainyl frowned, trying to recall the passage. “Ah, yes, we must see the universe as it is, not as we would have it be, and we certainly should not follow the irrational path of calculating based on what we wish an outcome to be.”

  “You’re being cynical.”

  “A little. But Asulet was very clear in pointing out how many hundreds died establishing Lyterna. Could it not be that there weren’t enough alectors with knowledge and not enough lifeforce to find and force an entry to another world? Wide as the universe is, worlds that will support us are few.”

  “So they avoided the ancients, calculating that they would die off in time?”

  “That’s my feeling, and that calculation was based on wistful thinking…or the irrational as declared in the Views of the Highest.” Dainyl finished the last of the brandy and set the goblet on the side table. “Now that we’ve warmed Acorus and life-form mass and lifeforce are increasing once more, the ancients are recovering as well.”

  “There’s not enough lifeforce for us both, is there?”

  “You would know that far better than I, dear one,” Dainyl demurred.

  “Not if we must take another thousand alectors in translation from Ifryn in the next few years. Those are the numbers set forth by the Archon.”

  Neither mentioned that those thousand Ifrits would be the survivors—and that more than two thousand would perish attempting the long trip through the world translation tubes. Nor did they discuss the thousands of Ifrits who would never have the opportunity even to attempt the arduous Talent-journey from Ifryn to Acorus.

 

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