“What am I supposed to do?”
“What you always do…what is right. But you cannot do it until you have an opportunity. I have no doubt that you could go to Alustre and destroy Brekylt and Alcyna. If Zelyert had been wise enough to remove them from power ten years ago, it would have made a difference. How would that change matters now? Except to assure that you would have all those who support them opposed to you, and that you would lose any support from Zelyert and Khelaryt.”
“What little support I do have.” Dainyl snorted.
“That is better than no support…or active opposition.”
He knew that she was accurate in that, much as he hated to admit it.
“Where do you think all those alectors from Ifryn are going?” asked Lystrana. “If large numbers of strange alectors appeared in Alustre, would there not be reports, one way or another? You found a number still loyal to Khelaryt there, such as Kaparyk.”
The answer was obvious, and Dainyl had felt it all along, even if he had not voiced it. “They’re being sent to Dulka, and perhaps Hyalt. They’ve moved Seventh Company well away from the Table, and there’s a perfectly good and empty compound adjacent to the structure that houses the RA and the Table. Alcyna has sent another one of the translated and replacement Myrmidons—that’s Veluara—there to keep the Myrmidons in line and away from what’s happening. Most of the undercaptains are junior, and the only one who voiced any real insight was transferred to Lysia.” He paused. “Some could be going to other centers where the recorders support Brekylt, places like Norda.”
“I would suggest isolated centers as well,” she suggested. “If the renegade alectors can use the Tables…”
“They can hide anywhere,” he finished. That suggested Hyalt might be a problem in the future as well, as if he weren’t worried enough about Majer Mykel and his Talent.
“What if you conducted an inspection in force there? With Myrmidons from Lysia?”
“I have the feeling that sending Myrmidons from Lysia wouldn’t be a good idea. It might be better to send Fifth Company from Dereka. It’s much farther, but…” Dainyl shook his head. “That’s not something I could do without Shastylt’s support, or at least not his opposition.”
“Not now.”
Dainyl understood. He could certainly plan what needed to be done—and how—and suggest to some of the eastern companies that some full-company maneuvers might be necessary later in the year. That would filter eastward, but the vagueness might well keep Alcyna off balance. Then, he reflected, it could also force her to act earlier. Or she could take it as a bluff, and that might be best of all.
47
Mykel looked across the small mesa-like expanse, a vingt across from northwest to southeast, and three-quarters of that in depth from northeast to southwest. It was less than a vingt from the outskirts of Hyalt, and it even had a good spring that fed into the stream running along the southeastern edge of the lower slopes. Farther to the southeast was a flock of sheep, with a single herder and two dogs. The late-morning sun shone out of a clear silver-green sky, and there was but the barest hint of a breeze from the northwest.
The incline to the flattened hilltop was modest, rising only ten yards above the grasslands to the south, and the site was less than half a vingt from the high road north to Tempre. The one drawback was that there was no road or lane connecting the site to the high road, but that could be built since the slope was gentle and the terrain was not that rugged.
Behind Mykel, Seventeenth Company was reined up in formation. Undercaptain Loryalt was to Mykel’s left. For the past several days, Mykel had scouted the terrain around Hyalt, assigning different companies to accompany him.
“Take some work, sir, but this site looks a lot better than where the old garrison is,” observed Loryalt.
“It’s near the high road and not too close to the town. If the town grows, there will still be space.” Mykel had his doubts about how much Hyalt would grow, but he wanted to account for that possibility.
“You think it will, sir?”
“You never can tell.” Mykel smiled, then added, “We’ve got some patrolling to do. We’ll ride down to the high road and head north to that first lane west. We haven’t ridden through that area yet.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Loryalt.
Mykel took a last look at the site, far superior to the other possibilities he had viewed, before turning the roan down the slope and westward.
“Seventeenth Company! Forward!”
The company rode westward. Less than a quarter of a vingt to the north was another flock of sheep, a small one with less than a score of ewes and half as many lambs. The herder, an angular but short man with dull gray hair and a grizzled beard, watched the company for a moment before turning away.
Once at the high road, Mykel and the company turned north along a stretch that held no wagons or riders except themselves. Nor was there any trace of any recent travel on the lane that Seventeenth Company took westward from the high road. The lane wound between low hills above what might have been a creek in wetter times. Although the hillside on the north side of the road was but lightly wooded, with scattered junipers and low pines, affording relatively good visibility, Mykel had Loryalt send the scouts ahead of the main body of the company a good half vingt.
After another quarter glass, the road climbed over a low ridge. As Mykel rode to the top of the rise, he looked to the south, but could not see the regional alector’s complex, although he knew it had to be only a few vingts away. On the other side of the ridge, the lane descended into a wide vale filled with scattered bushes and sparse grass. The tops of the rises on each side of the vale were only three or four yards above the lane itself.
“Send another set of scouts to ride the top of the rises.”
“Yes, sir.”
While Mykel had not seen anything, and there was little cover, he disliked following a low road without some outriders. In moments, the two scouts were on the rises, riding as easily across the open terrain as were the Cadmians below them.
“There’s not much out here, sir,” said Loryalt.
“No. Even the grass is sparse.” Mykel could see the pair of scouts ahead on a flat stretch of the lane.
The silver-green sky, clear as it was, began to darken, yet the white light of the sun did not dim. Nor were there clouds anywhere. He glanced toward Loryalt.
“Nice day,” observed the undercaptain. “Not too hot. Not too cold.”
Mykel gave a perfunctory nod, his head turning, and his eyes scanning the low rise to his right, then the dale on the left of the dirt lane, then the rise to the left. He reached for his rifle, taking it from its case and checking once more to make sure it was fully loaded, although he knew it was.
Crack! The very sound shivered through Mykel, yet it was not a sound, loud as it felt to him, that the others experienced. His eyes fixed on a point in midair, a good twenty yards above the road and almost a hundred to the west of where he rode, but well behind the scouts. Blue shapes appeared from nowhere.
“Company halt! Rifles ready!” Mykel snapped. “Now!” Should he spread the company? He glanced to both sides of the road. Spreading the troopers would likely only make them more vulnerable.
“Company halt! Rifles ready!” Loryalt’s voice held the slightest trace of surprise.
“Look to the west! Fire on my command!”
At first, Mykel had thought the score or so of creatures that had appeared were ravens, but no ravens were that big—or purpled blue. The flying creatures formed into a wedge that turned eastward, toward Seventeenth Company, and the noonday sun glinted off metallic blue beaks. They were miniature versions of the pteridons flown by the Myrmidons.
The flying wedge of creatures dove toward the Cadmians.
“Fire at will!”
“Fire at will!” echoed Loryalt.
Mykel aimed at the lead creature of the wedge and willed his shot home. As the bullet struck, the creature exploded into a ball of
blue flame that splattered down on the road some forty yards ahead.
Shots rose up around Mykel.
He forced himself to concentrate on the next flyer. Another ball of flame splattered, this time into the hillside to his right, far closer. By the time he had fired a third and fourth time, the creatures were almost on the company.
A mount screamed, and then a trooper.
The miniature pteridons swept past, and Mykel reloaded. He could feel the heat from where one of the downed creatures burned not ten yards from him. He turned in the saddle, watching as they circled back toward the company, this time coming in from the south, but too far away for the moment for a decent shot.
He raised his rifle, then concentrated, firing once, then again. Two of the beasts exploded, tumbling from the sky. He fired again…and then reloaded, because the creatures had not turned away but were climbing as if to begin another diving attack.
This time three of the creatures all headed toward Mykel. He forced himself to fire deliberately, concentrating on one shot after another, ignoring the shots coming from others in the company.
When the second wave passed, there were only three of the beasts remaining, and they flew steadily northward, passing beyond the rise.
“Stand down! Undercaptain, let me have a report on casualties.” Mykel had no doubts that he had lost men and mounts.
“Yes, sir.” Loryalt turned his mount.
Mykel reloaded, even though he doubted that the flyers would return immediately, and replaced the rifle in its saddle case. He felt shaky in the saddle, and sweat ran down his face and the back of his neck. He reached for his water bottle and drank.
The creatures that had exploded in flame had burned themselves into blackened piles of ashes, leaving only black greasy splotches on the soil. There were no charred bones or scales…only the ashy residue of intense fires. All were scattered in a rough arc around Mykel. He stood in the stirrups and tried to see if there were any other blackened heaps, but the only others he saw were two larger black pyres, large enough to have been men and mounts.
He forced the bile down in his throat as he settled back into the saddle. It took an effort to keep his fingers from touching his belt or the hidden dagger of the ancients.
While he waited for Loryalt to return, he rode forward to the nearest blackened spot on the ground. As with the giant cat, splotches on the grass around where the creature had fallen had turned black, even beyond the burned area. Slowly, he rode back to the head of the company, his eyes and feelings still scanning, trying to see if anything else might appear.
Loryalt reined up short of Mykel. His face was set, slightly pale. “Sir, Seventeenth Company reports six casualties, all dead.”
“Thank you, Undercaptain. Their bodies?”
“Ah…no, sir. They burned to ashes. There’s…there’s nothing left, sir. Nothing at all.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“No…no, sir.”
“I wish there were.” Mykel turned the roan. “I think it’s time we headed back to the garrison. We can let fifth squad lead.” He doubted that they would see any more creatures, but continuing the patrol would seem far too callous, and, for the moment, there was little to be gained.
“Seventeenth Company!…”
Mykel and Loryalt rode along the shoulder of the road until they reached what had been the rear of the column, where Loryalt ordered the company forward, with the rearguard now the forward scouts, and the former scouts bringing up the rear.
A quarter of a glass passed before Loryalt spoke. “Sir? What were they?”
“I don’t know. They look like smaller versions of what the Myrmidons fly. I’d judge that they were the strange creatures that the crafters talked about, but neither one could tell me anything about what the creatures they knew about actually looked like.”
“They were hard to bring down. Some of the men said that they hit them three or four times, and nothing happened.”
“We killed most of them,” Mykel pointed out, “even if it did take the whole company. I’d like to find out what they are, though.” Mykel tried to keep the worry out of his voice. His Cadmians could handle the giant cats, but the miniature pteridons? So far as he could tell, only his shots had been effective.
“Yes, sir.” Loryalt was silent for a time.
Mykel continued to scan the skies and the terrain, wondering how he could possibly be everywhere, and what would happen if a company ran into the small pteridons when he wasn’t around. Did the Marshal of Myrmidons know about the creatures? If he did, why had Cadmians been dispatched, rather than Myrmidons?
He’d need to report about the creatures quickly, even if no more showed up, although that seemed rather unlikely.
48
Mykel shifted his weight on the mounting block, where he sat in the center courtyard of the old garrison in the sunlight of late afternoon, his legs crossed, balancing the oblong of wood that served as a writing desk for the report he needed to submit. At least, he could send it with the sandox coach that served Hyalt on Duadi and Sexdi.
Writing the report was going to be difficult, because he wasn’t about to point out, directly, that there were no insurgents or irregulars to speak of, not that he hadn’t had enough difficulty in arranging for the purchase of the land and for the beginning of construction on the new Cadmian compound, not to mention the creatures at the quarry. Thankfully, over the preceding week, there had been no more appearances by the miniature pteridons. Not so thankfully, he was still having dreams about the soarers, but he could not remember them with more than a vague sense of events—and a feeling of unease.
Fodder was more expensive that he had hoped, because most animals around Hyalt were grazed—and that was scarcely practical for the mounts of Third Battalion. Mutton and lamb were less expensive, but he suspected that he and the rest of the Cadmians would tire of that before long. He had arranged for a peasant girl to raise chickens for the Cadmians, but even chickens took a while to grow. Another problem had been that, according to the growers, the chandler, and other merchants, the regional alector had been purchasing far more food and supplies over the last season or so.
In between those arrangements, he had to observe and supervise the training of the new Cadmians, as well as extra training for his own “replacement” companies.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to concentrate on writing the dispatch before him, framing each sentence carefully in his mind before writing it out. In a proper compound he would have made a draft, but, for all that Hyalt lay outside the eastern walls of the old garrison, he might as well have been in the field.
Finally, he looked at the key sections and reread them carefully.
…Third Battalion has maintained regular patrols and sent scouts into all areas that might harbor irregulars or insurgents. To date, the battalion has not found any evidence of camps or activity that would clearly suggest recent insurgency. In the course of patrolling, Sixteenth Company was successful in discovering four brigands to the southeast of Hyalt. All but one were killed in attempting to escape, and the survivor was turned over to the town justicer. While Third Battalion will continue to maintain a vigilant stance in the course of its patrolling, training of the Hyalt companies, and rebuilding of the Cadmian compound, thus far it appears as though the Myrmidons were extremely effective in dealing with whatever insurgency previously existed, or in encouraging the insurgents to leave the area for the present time.
The more serious threat to the battalion has resulted from the need to protect the quarrymen. Predators of types unknown locally or in other regions of Corus have attempted to attack both quarry workers and Cadmians on three occasions. Local residents have confirmed that these predators were of the same types dealt with by the Myrmidons earlier….
Fortunately, on both times when Mykel had not been present at the quarry, Rhystan or Fabrytal had been, and their companies had been successful in killing the beasts without additional Cadmian casualtie
s.
…The most common attacker resembles a large black mountain cougar, but it is far larger, a good two yards in length. It is extremely swift. Concentrated rifle fire was required to bring down the three beasts that have attempted to attack the Cadmians on quarry duty. Once each was killed, within a fraction of a glass, the carcass began to smolder, and then burst into flames. Only ashes were left. The other predators were large birdlike creatures, purple-blue, with long beaks that appeared crystalline. These appeared from nowhere to attack Seventeenth Company as it patrolled northwest of Hyalt. If these creatures, which resemble miniature pteridons, strike a Cadmian, the bird, the Cadmian, and his mount burst into intense flame. In addition some appear to use something like a venom on its beak. One Cadmian was slashed with the beak and died in less than a quarter glass from the poison….
To date, losses to the flying creatures total six Cadmians. There have been no casualties from the attacks of the giant cats….
At the sound of creaking cart wheels and axles, Mykel took a last look at the dispatch before carefully folding it and slipping it into his uniform tunic. Then he set aside his makeshift writing desk and stood to wait for Poeldyn.
The cart creaked to a halt several yards short of Mykel. The swarthy craftmaster swung off the driver’s seat of the cart, still holding the leads.
“Good afternoon, Craftmaster.” Mykel stepped forward.
“Afternoon, Majer. You know there was another one of those cat creatures at the quarry this morning?”
“I had not heard about this morning. I trust Fourteenth Company took care of it.”
“That they did. It was a close thing, though. Makes it hard for the men to concentrate on the work. They say the pay’s not enough for that.”
“I imagine some would say that, Craftmaster.” Mykel found himself both surprised and inwardly amused to hear himself using words his father had said more than once. “Still…they’re getting close to what is paid in the quarries at Faitel, and I don’t know of anyone else needing stones in Hyalt.”
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