“Majer Alucius, reporting to Marshal Alyniat, as ordered personally by the marshal.”
“Sir, let me see if he’s ready to see you.” The guard turned and relayed Alucius’s statement word for word.
“Have him wait.”
The words were muffled, but clear in intent.
Although he could sense no one inside the chamber with the marshal, Alucius ended up waiting more than half a glass. After his acts of the day before, he had half expected something like that, foolish as it seemed to him.
At the sound of a single rap on the inside of the door, the guard turned to Alucius. “He’s ready to see you, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Alucius opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
The marshal looked up from the table desk and the maps spread across it. “I’d have preferred to see you immediately,” Alyniat said with an open smile, and a sense of amusement, “but this is Lanachrona, and if I did not make you wait some, under the circumstances, every officer would be trying your techniques, Majer.”
“They might have some difficulty with that, sir. They’re not herders.”
Alyniat laughed. “That would not stop them from trying. And this morning was a good morning for games, because the reports from the scouts show that the Matrites will not reach the area within several vingts of the ring road before late afternoon.”
“Yes, sir. Have they seen the heavy wagons and the sand wagons that follow them?”
“I asked for that information. There are two such wagons. One is coming down the Fola road. The other is on the road from Zalt. They must have used another road to bypass our forces. The weapon on the Zalt road was used to take out half a company whose captain thought that he was attacking a Matrite supply caravan. I would have reprimanded him for not understanding the instructions, but since he’s dead, I’ll merely be passing on the information at officer’s call this morning. You will be here, and, for now, you’re a brevet majer-colonel.” Alyniat turned to his writing table and picked up the two collar insignia—a four-pointed star crossed with a single sabre. “Those are Southern Guard insignia, but I can only brevet you in the Southern Guard. The sabre point is to the outside.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You’ll perform to the rank, I’m certain.” Alyniat’s wry smile dropped away. “I don’t need details, but I’m presuming that, as with all your other accomplishments, you’ll need your force to get you to the point where you and some of your Northern Guards can actually do what needs to be done.”
“Effectively…yes, sir.”
“That’s one aspect of your demeanor you should keep, Colonel. There’s nothing saved by indirection, except confusion. Do you need any special supplies?”
“No, sir. We could use some extra grain for the mounts, if it can be spared. They’ve ridden a long ways in a short time. But…sir, I’ve done some scouting, and I have some concerns that the Matrites may not attack directly from the high roads.”
“That’s possible. Where do you think they might attack?”
“I don’t know all the possibilities, sir, but there’s a ridge some four vingts to the southwest on the ring road. The slope is flat enough, and the ground looks hard enough that they could attack from there.”
“Four vingts? I know the place. I have my doubts that they would move that far from the forts. They don’t just want the city. They want to smash us.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You have that doubting agreement, Colonel. I’ll make you a wager. You post a watch there, and I’ll wager that they’ll see nothing.”
“If I have your approval, sir, I’ll take that wager.”
Alyniat laughed. “I’ll tell the other colonels that you’ll be watching special areas for unusual activities. But…if we get attacked elsewhere, I want your forces ready to support or do what you need to do to take out the crystal spear-throwers.”
“Yes, sir. Except that we can only attack one at a time, and I can’t break off dealing with one crystal spear-thrower to deal with another.”
Alyniat frowned, then nodded, his fingers drumming on the table for several moments before he spoke. “I can’t gainsay that. I just hope we don’t need you in two places at once.”
So did Alucius.
“I’ll make sure that the majer of quartermasters takes care of the feed. You were out riding this morning. Did you find anything else that I should know?”
“Not yet, sir.”
“Report to me every morning until we move into actual fighting. Is there anything else?”
“No, sir.”
“You may go. Until officers’ call.”
“Yes, sir.”
Less than half a glass later, Alucius stood at the north end of the marshaling hall, in the front rank with two older majer-colonels, neither of whom he had met.
Alyniat stood in front of the close to fifty officers. He began speaking without preambles. “First…the Matrite forces were still more than fifteen vingts to the north as of midafternoon yesterday, and the latest reports show that they have moved less than five vingts southward…appears that both crystal spear-throwers are being moved…Colonel Alucius has joined our forces with three companies trained to deal with them…His force has ridden from Hyalt…defeated the prophet there and put down the revolt…only group so equipped, and can only deal with one at a time…will need to step up scouting as the Matrites approach…
“That’s all for the moment. Colonel Cyrosyr and Colonel Korynst—I’ll brief you each individually immediately after dismissal. I’ve already briefed Colonel Alucius.”
Just like that, Alyniat had announced that Alucius was one of the top three colonels in the force, without even directly saying so. The faintest smile crossed Alucius’s lips. Alyniat’s actions reminded Alucius that he had much to learn about the politics of lancer operations, but he wouldn’t worry about those aspects greatly—not until he’d dealt with the Matrites’ spear-throwers. If he didn’t find a way to destroy the two supremely lethal weapons, he certainly wouldn’t have to worry about the political aspects of anything.
86
Sexdi was much the same as Quinti had been, with no sign of the Matrites from the ring road. Alucius checked his maps and sent Waris, Elbard, Rakalt, and Bakka to check the ring road for other possible Matrite attack points. None found others as promising as the one Alucius located, but they did not go farther east than the intersection with the road to Zalt. While a second major attack might well take place farther east, he could cover only so much of the ring road from where they were stationed. He could only hope that any obvious movement of even more Matrite lancers and the spear-throwers would precede such an attack. The reports that Alyniat provided indicated that the bulk of the Matrite forces remained near the two main high roads.
That could and would change, Alucius was convinced, but until it did, he saw no point in moving his own forces blindly. They could use a day of not riding, and so could their mounts. In the meantime, he also established a scouting pattern and rotation for the ridge area, then worked out a rough pattern of attack—if the Matrites did as he thought they might.
As Alyniat had wagered, the main Matrite force moved slowly down the high roads toward Southgate, so slowly that, by sunset on Sexdi, the main body was still on the coastal high road, a good seven vingts north of the ring road. A slightly smaller Matrite force was on the southwest high road six vingts northeast. Had Alucius been planning an attack of the sort he had envisioned, the Matrites were close to where he would have been. So far as Alucius could determine, there was no absolute proof that the Matrites would attack either as he had expected or as Alyniat had, but Alucius was wagering that the Matrites would not begin with a direct assault.
While the two other senior colonels had small rooms in the road fort, Alucius had decided to sleep in the field, where he could rouse and move his forces quickly.
His plan was based on what he had seen and learned years before.
The spear-thrower had felt totally dead until it was put into operation, and that meant that Alucius couldn’t count on using his Talent against it until the Matrites powered up the weapon. He didn’t know when that might be, but it was likely that wouldn’t happen until the weapon was close to the ring road. He hoped his guesses were correct. He’d planned his attack that way, although the details of what he intended were not something he was sharing, beyond telling his officers and squad leaders that there was a special attack force. He wasn’t saying that he was the attack force.
On Sexdi evening, he’d gone over the contingent battle plans with his officers until he was certain they understood. He hoped they did, but he was uncertain about Deotyr.
He finally drifted off into sleep, a restless sleep.
In time, he struggled awake, only to find himself in a hall, one with pink marble walls, tinged with purple, walls with half pillars of goldenstone set at regular intervals. Above him was an arched ceiling of the same pink marble. So precisely were all the stones set that he could detect neither joints nor mortar. He looked down. As he somehow had known, octagonal sections of polished gold and green marble composed the floor, with each section of green marble inset with an eight-pointed star of golden marble.
When he looked up, the walls had shifted.
Alucius’s eyes flicked from one wall to another, but he was alone in the chamber, a chamber without wall hangings…or doors…or windows. He whirled, but there were no exits behind him, either.
Had he gotten into the chamber through a Table? He did not see or sense one anywhere.
The walls shifted once more, inward, leaving the chamber far smaller, less than seven yards long and three wide. He stepped forward and glanced back over his shoulder. Nothing had changed. There were still no doors anywhere.
The walls shifted yet again, leaving the chamber less than four by two and a half yards, with the ceiling less than a yard above him.
He lifted his arms to touch the cold marble walls. Before he could lower them, the walls pressed in, forcing his hands inward toward his body, leaving him standing in a space more confined than a cell, with hard stone inexorably contracting toward him.
He reached out with his Talent, to find an escape, but could sense nothing but stone, hard stone that went on endlessly beyond the immediate surface of the marble walls.
Sweat poured down his forehead. He had to get out…somehow. He had to—
Alucius bolted upright in his bedroll. Despite the cold night air, he was sweating, almost feverishly. He blotted his forehead, then quickly extended his Talent.
Was someone attacking? Had the sentries been affected?
His breathing slowed as he understood that, for the moment, all was quiet, and that only Lanachronan forces were gathered nearby.
Why the dream now? Because he felt even more trapped by events?
He took a long slow breath. He needed to relax, to get some sleep. Tomorrow, or the next day, he’d have a battle to fight, and he wouldn’t do well without rest.
He lay back on the bedroll, trying to think of calming thoughts, of the stead…and of Wendra. That didn’t help, because he began to worry—about her and Alendra, and he had the growing feeling that he might not be able to make it back to Iron Stem before Alendra was due. Nothing was going as he had hoped—or anyone had planned. The knowledge that wars usually went that way didn’t help either, not as he tried to find sleep.
87
A horn sounded somewhere, as if both distant, yet nearby. Alucius turned over in the bedroll, trying to shut out the sound.
“Sir!”
Alucius struggled out of the depths of exhaustion. “What…?”
“Majer…Colonel, I mean. Bakka sent word that there’s a bunch of Matrites moving toward that ridge. Says there’s a company or more and some wagons.”
Alucius bolted into a sitting position. “What time—”
“It’s maybe two glasses before dawn, sir.”
“Wake up the captains and have them rouse everyone. They need to be ready to ride in a quarter glass.”
“Yes, sir.”
In the mild chill of the dry night air, under a clear sky with only the greenish half-disc of Asterta in the heavens, Alucius pulled on his boots, checked his nightsilk vest, and then pulled the nightsilk skull mask into place. His men had seen it before, and he’d need it with what he planned. He gathered his rifles, saddled the gray, mounted, and rode toward the area where the companies would form up.
Feran was already there.
“You think this will work?” asked the older officer.
“Until we try…I can’t say.”
Feran laughed softly. “It had better, because if it doesn’t, I’ll be in charge, and there’s no way I want to explain to Alyniat. Or Weslyn.”
At the sound of riders, both Northern Guard officers turned, expecting Jultyr and Deotyr, but an unfamiliar captain in the blue of the Southern Guard appeared, outlined by the torch carried by the lancer riding with him. “What’s going on here?”
Alucius rode forward until the light fell on him. “We’ve gotten word that our target’s moving into place. Once we’re certain, we’ll be letting the marshal know.”
The officer’s eyes took in the insignia, but his eyes lingered on the skull mask. “Ah…yes, sir, Colonel. Sorry to bother you, sir.”
“I understand, Captain. Carry on.”
“Yes, sir.”
No sooner had the watch captain disappeared into the darkness than Jultyr rode up, followed by Deotyr.
“We don’t have much time,” Alucius began. “The plan is the same as we discussed last night. We’ll move into position and wait for them to begin the attack. Then the attack group will move on the crystal spear-thrower. If the group is successful, the spear-thrower will fail. That’s when you get the order to attack the forces around the weapon.”
“Sir?” asked Deotyr.
“Why attack, if it’s not working? Because they could fix it, and we’d be in the same position in another few weeks or months, and they’d have even more lancers surrounding it. We need to capture it or make sure it’s destroyed. That’s why we have half a squad carrying gunpowder. Now…when we get to the ridge we’re taking down, and that’s not the one where the Matrites are coming up, remember, we’ll go in this order—Fifth Company, Twenty-eighth Company, and Thirty-fifth Company. That’s the way we’ll form up now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Despite Alucius’s impatience, it was almost a tenth of a glass before the three companies were on the ring road, climbing the western segment, and heading west through the darkness.
They had traveled slightly more than a vingt, Alucius judged, when Waris appeared out of the darkness.
“Sir!” The scout eased his mount beside Alucius.
“Yes, Waris?”
“Like you thought, sir. They put four companies on the coastal high road, where that dirt road leaves the high road.”
“What about the rest?”
“They look to be headed south, even past the ridge.” Waris’s voice contained puzzlement.
“That far south?” asked Feran.
“It could be an ambush,” Alucius suggested. “The Matrites attack farther to the south, as if trying to take the city…”
“And when the marshal tries to shift his lancers…?” suggested Feran.
“The spear-thrower takes care of them. Or they could just be trying to take the city and using the spear-thrower as a way to keep the Southern Guard from reaching them directly. If the marshal doesn’t use the ring road but the high road, the Matrites take the ring road, and then all the Southern Guard is trapped inside the ring road.”
Alucius turned to Fewal, who had been riding behind him with Dhaget and Roncar. “You ride to the fort. Try to get the message to Marshal Alyniat that the Matrites are moving to attack here with the crystal spear-thrower and that another force is continuing southward outside the ring road. Tell him that we’re moving against the spear-throw
er, but that will take all our forces.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once Fewal had left, Alucius turned back to Waris. “You and Rakalt head down the narrow ridge, the one we’re taking. Halfway down, short of where we’ll move into the gulch, and keep an eye out.”
“Yes, sir.” Waris urged his mount away from the column and was joined by Rakalt a hundred yards ahead, beyond the lancers’ clear sight in the darkness, but not beyond Alucius’s vision or the range of his Talent.
As he kept riding westward, Alucius let his Talent study the darkness to the north and west. He stiffened in the saddle, not because of the weave of lifethreads from all the lancers on both sides, but because of what he had not expected. Fine pink threads from the Matrite forces soared to the north, in the direction of Hieron. While Alucius had the feeling that not every Matrite lancer wore a silver torque, there were enough that the combined luminescence of those evil-feeling pink threads seemed to cast a purplish pink light. That pinkish cast was unseen and unfelt, except to those who could see it with Talent.
As with the first time he had truly seen not only lifewebs, but torque-threads filling the sky, Alucius was silent for a long moment, taking in the subtle weave that filled the entire darkening skies with the warp and weft of intertwining lifewebs, webs that somehow never touched. Against the soft rightness of the living web, the purplish pink was shudderingly wrong, an oppressive chain weighing on the lifethread of each man or woman who wore a collar. Alucius half wondered how he had survived such a collar for so long.
Feran cleared his throat. “You’re worried about something. What?”
Alucius smiled wryly. He’d betrayed too much in his surprise. “There’s a feeling out there.” He knew that he had destroyed the crystal that controlled the torques—and the Matrial. Or rather, the destruction of the crystal had destroyed the Matrial. Had the Regent rediscovered that secret and created another crystal?
“And what exactly is that feeling?” asked Feran.
“They’ve repowered the torques, the silver collars of the Matrial. I can feel it from here.”
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