“Colonel Alucius?”
“Yes.”
“Marshal Frynkel sent us out to meet you. Your quarters and barracks are arranged, and Captain Wasenyr will be briefing you on the ceremony.”
“Ceremony?” asked Alucius.
“Yes, sir. All three companies will receive the Lord-Protector’s unit commendation.”
Alucius could sense Jultyr’s concealed amusement.
“They don’t give many of those, sir. That’s because it comes with two weeks’ pay for every lancer as a bonus.”
“That’s good to know,” Alucius replied. “Lead on.”
As the four lancers swung in front of the banners at the front of the column, Alucius turned to Jultyr and shrugged.
“We were cheap at the price,” Jultyr said dryly. “Still, the men will appreciate it. They’ll make sure to pay it before we get any replacements.”
Alucius couldn’t help smiling at the veteran’s assessment.
The sun was low in the west, shining through a hazy sky and offering only slight warmth by the time the four lancers escorting Alucius and the three companies turned off the high road and then onto the Avenue of the Palace.
Looking down the Avenue and through the space between the two green towers that dated back to the Duarchy, Alucius could see across the River Vedra to the southernmost part of the Westerhills. Unlike the northern Westerhills, where the trees were junipers and pines spread widely on rocky and sandy ground, the trees north of Tempre were mixed pine and softwoods growing far more closely together.
As they neared the palace itself, with the stone-walled gardens of the Lord-Protector on their right, the lancers turned right on the avenue fronting both the palace and the headquarters complex of the Southern Guard. Behind both structures to the north was a long ridge that extended to the river in the west and well into the distance to the east. There were no structures on the top third of the ridge.
Alucius, getting more sore by the moment, shifted his weight in the saddle as they neared the gray granite walls of the Southern Guard headquarters, modest in size against the low hills directly behind the gray buildings. As before, when he had been in Tempre, there were but four guards flanking the gateposts. The guards looked up briefly, possibly surprised to see such a long column of riders. Behind them, the main headquarters building rose four stories, with clean gray walls looming over the paving stones that covered the space inside the walls. The exception was the small walled garden set forward of the squared-off portico that was the main entrance.
The four lancers rode around the east side of the building and into the rear courtyard, a space cut out of the hillside, with the stables to the right, and barracks and quarters behind, but forward of a stone wall that rose almost fifteen yards. They continued turning, toward the portico that marked the rear entrance. Standing on the steps above the mounting blocks were several figures in Southern Guard uniforms. As they rode closer, Alucius recognized Marshal Frynkel, but not the captain with him, nor the lancers behind the two officers.
The lancers reined up, and Alucius ordered, “Column, halt!”
Frynkel stepped forward. “Colonel Alucius, Overcaptain Feran, Captain Jultyr, Captain Deotyr, and all the lancers of the Fifth, Twenty-eighth, and Thirty-fifth Companies…welcome to Tempre and Southern Guard headquarters. Your efforts can truly be said to have been critical in saving Lanachrona, and for that you will be recognized and rewarded at an official ceremony on Duadi. Later, Captain Wasenyr will go over the details with you.” Frynkel inclined his head to the dark-bearded young captain standing back and to his left. “On behalf of the Lord-Protector, I wanted to welcome you all to Tempre.” A nod from the marshal clearly ended the welcome.
Alucius inclined his head. “We thank you, Marshal, and the Lord-Protector. We are pleased that we have been of service.”
Frynkel stepped forward. “Colonel, I would appreciate the honor of your company and that of Overcaptain Feran at supper this evening.”
“We would be pleased.”
“Good. Captain Wasenyr will fill you in.” Frynkel’s smile was pleasant, but Alucius could sense the tiredness behind the expression. “I’ll let you get your men and yourselves settled.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The lancer escorts urged their mounts into a slow walk.
“Forward,” Alucius ordered.
Once the three companies were drawn up outside the stables, Wasenyr and three squad leaders met them.
“Colonel,” offered the bearded captain, “the squad leaders will show your companies what sections of the stables are assigned, and the barracks areas. Once you’ve taken care of what you need to here, I’d be pleased to escort you and your officers to your quarters.” A lopsided smile followed. “You may have noticed that we’re somewhat under-staffed here from the way things were in the past.”
“With so many companies in the southwest, I thought that might be the case.” Alucius dismounted, somewhat stiffly.
“Do you need—”
“I’m just stiff from riding.” Alucius was stiff from riding, but his ribs were also bothering him, and the brace on his forearm, under his sleeve and riding jacket, was chafing his skin.
“I should tell you that the ceremony will be one glass after morning muster on Duadi—at the rear portico. It won’t take that long, and regular travel uniforms are appropriate, but your men won’t need to saddle up. Just form on foot. If you’d be there a quarter glass before they form up, I’ll let you know if there are any changes.”
“That’s fine. Is there anything else?”
“Not right now, sir.”
Alucius nodded and led the chestnut into the stables. When he had finished with stabling and grooming the chestnut, more slowly than usual, he was the last to join Feran and Captain Wasenyr outside the stable.
“I took a moment to show the captains their quarters. I hope you—”
“That’s fine,” Alucius said.
The walk back to the main building was even longer than Alucius recalled, especially carrying his own gear. Once inside the main building, Wasenyr led the way up a wide stone staircase. “Both of your quarters are on the third level. Yours are on the east end, Overcaptain Feran, and yours are on the west end, Colonel. We’ll get the colonel settled first, if you don’t mind, sir,” Wasenyr said to Feran.
“That would be best.” Feran grinned at Alucius.
Alucius wondered if he’d get the same quarters he’d had before.
At the third level, they turned left, past a pair of Southern Guards with blue braid on their shoulders, similar to that worn by Wasenyr. Wasenyr stopped at the next-to-last set of double doors. He opened the door with a shining brass key and handed it to Alucius.
The foyer inside was tiled in blue and gold. Through a square archway was a sitting room ten yards in width and fifteen in length, the long side containing three wide windows that opened on a view of the Lord-Protector’s golden cream palace. In the sitting room were a dark blue upholstered settee, two matching armchairs, a carved cherry desk set against the north wall, with an equally imposing and matching carved desk chair. Five wall lamps were spaced around the chamber. In the center of the floor was a dark blue carpet bearing a design of intertwined eight-pointed green stars outlined in gold.
Alucius could see that the quarters were a mirror image of those where he had stayed before, with few differences in furnishings or decor.
“The bedchamber is over here…”
The bedchamber was small only by comparison to the sitting room. It also had a view of the palace, with a high triple-width bed and two matching armoires. Alucius set down his saddlebags and laid the rifles on the weapons rack most gratefully. Beyond the bedchamber was the bath chamber. The tub there was carved out of a single marble block, with two spigots of shimmering bronze.
“I assume you’d like your uniforms cleaned. If you let one of the orderlies know after you get back from supper tonight, they can have them cleaned and pressed befo
re noon tomorrow.”
“That would be helpful,” Alucius said politely.
“Majer Keiryn will escort you to dinner in about two glasses.” Wasenyr glanced around. “I believe…is there anything…?”
“No. You’ve been most helpful.” Alucius turned to Feran. The overcaptain’s face held a bemused expression. “I’ll see you then. I’m sure your quarters will be similar to these.”
“Oh, yes, sir. Almost the same, except his look out to the east.”
Once the two had left, Alucius walked back into the bath chamber and turned one of the spigots, hoping the water was at least warmish. It was warm, but not hot.
He took his time bathing and cleaning up, and laying out clothes to be cleaned later. After a season on the road, he intended to take full advantage of the amenities available.
Majer Keiryn—the same Keiryn who had accomplished the same task once before, tall and redheaded—arrived almost exactly two glasses later, accompanied by Feran. Keiryn escorted them down two levels and to the eastern end of the headquarters building to the exact same private dining room where Alucius had dined three years earlier with Wyerl and Alyniat. The single circular table was covered in a shimmering white linen, with blue linen napkins. Each of the four places was set with silver cutlery, platters and plates of cream porcelain rimmed in gold and blue, and with two goblets set before each of the four diners. On a side table were several bottles of wine in the amber bottles.
“Marshal Frynkel should be joining us shortly.” Keiryn paused.
“He’s the only one in Tempre right now?” asked Alucius. “The only marshal?”
“Yes, sir. Really one of the few senior officers here. Marshal Alyniat took most of the senior colonels, too. You’re probably the third-ranking officer in Tempre right now, behind Marshal Frynkel and Majer-colonel Dytryl.”
And the youngest colonel in Lanachrona, Alucius reflected…so long as he held the rank.
“The marshals aren’t promoting many majers to colonel?” asked Feran.
Keiryn frowned, tilting his head slightly, pausing before he replied, “No. I think Colonel Alucius is the only promotion I know of in the last year. I know that Marshal Frynkel noted that when he received the dispatch from Marshal Alyniat.” Keiryn offered an embarrassed smile. “I shouldn’t have mentioned that, but…it is true.”
“I’m sorry I’m late,” came a voice from the doorway as Frynkel stepped into the small dining room. “I lost track of time.” The marshal smiled as warmly as Alucius had seen. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you both, especially you, Colonel.”
Alucius could sense that, pleased as Frynkel was, the marshal seemed almost more relieved than pleased.
“I had to send a message to the Lord-Protector confirming your safe arrival and telling him about the ceremony on Duadi.” Frynkel gestured to the table. “Please be seated.”
As soon as the four officers were gathered around the table, a single orderly appeared and immediately poured a pale amber wine from one of the bottles into the smaller goblet in front of each officer.
Frynkel lifted his goblet. “To our guests.”
“With our gratitude for your hospitality,” Alucius replied, lifting his own goblet. Feran lifted his as well.
The orderly vanished, then reappeared to set a small plate atop the one before each diner. On the small plate was a pastry no more than the width of three fingers.
“Cavern mushrooms in pastry. Very delicate and tasty,” offered Frynkel, taking a bite after speaking.
Alucius wasn’t sure that he didn’t like the flaky pastry better than the filling, but even the mushrooms were better than cactus or prickle.
Frynkel began to speak. He did not look directly at Alucius. “I’ll need to meet with you tomorrow, Alucius, but that’s almost a formality. Still…debriefings are one of those necessities.” He smiled. “It’s a pity, in some ways, that you’re here in winter. You’re used to colder winters than ours, of course, but the gardens aren’t in bloom, and the river’s far too cold for sailing…”
To Alucius, it was more than clear that Frynkel was both fulfilling a duty and avoiding discussing anything bearing on what had happened in Hyalt or around Southgate. Given Alucius’s own tiredness and sore muscles, that was probably just as well.
He sipped the wine and listened.
101
Slightly after midmorning on Lundi, Alucius sat in a comfortable wooden armchair on the other side of a table desk, behind which sat Marshal Frynkel.
Frynkel looked across the desk at Alucius. Once again, his eyes were dark-rimmed, and the right one twitched. Absently, the marshal pressed against it with the side of his palm. “You’ll be meeting with the Lord-Protector at the fourth glass past noon tomorrow. Captain Wasenyr will escort you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It was his request. He has been most impressed with your accomplishments.” Frynkel paused. “For all that you did, we’re far from winning the war against the Regent of the Matrial. I gather you understand that.”
“We’ve regained the territory that was lost. Perhaps more,” suggested Alucius.
“The Regent of the Matrial is still a problem. We suggested a truce. She refused. Her answer was that she will continue to fight until Southgate and all of the south and Harmony and all of the north are returned. She also demanded ten thousand golds in reparations, to be paid immediately.”
“Madrien never held Southgate.”
“That doesn’t seem to matter to her.” Frynkel paused. “What do you know about this Regent?”
“Almost nothing.”
“We know less than you do,” Frynkel said. “That’s even if you know nothing beyond your time in Madrien. She was a marshal named Sulythya, and everyone else decided to obey her. We don’t know why. Do you?”
“You know I escaped Madrien when the Matrial vanished and the torques failed. The Regent or someone under her has managed to repower some of those torques.”
Frynkel fixed his eyes on Alucius. The tic in his right eye twitched more rapidly. “That’s something you know as a herder?”
Alucius nodded. “If I get close to them, I can feel them.”
“Could she repower them all?”
“I don’t know,” Alucius admitted. “It took me by surprise.”
“Hmmm.” Frynkel frowned. “Does Marshal Alyniat know this?”
“He might. He might not. I didn’t recognize what the feeling was until I was on the way back to Tempre,” lied Alucius. “So I thought I’d tell you.”
“Convenient,” suggested Frynkel.
“You have to remember that I wasn’t in very good shape after those battles, and I wasn’t thinking my best,” Alucius pointed out. “We did destroy the crystal spear-throwers.”
“Yes…Marshal Alyniat did note my circumspection in giving you only verbal orders for that,” replied the marshal.
“I thought that our best efforts would be to handle what the regular Southern Guard could not, sir.”
“Your initiative was commendable.” Frynkel’s laugh was almost a bark. “You’ll be better off in Dekhron, Colonel.”
“If that is what the Lord-Protector wishes, Marshal.”
“I doubt any of us wish that, Colonel. We all recognize that your presence in Dekhron is necessary so long as Madrien remains a threat.”
Both Lanachrona and Madrien were threats to the Iron Valleys, Alucius thought, but Madrien was the greater and more immediate danger. “Is that the only threat?”
“Candidly…no,” admitted Frynkel. “We’ve received reports that the young Praetor of Lustrea is rebuilding his forces. It’s likely that he will make an effort to annex Deforya within the next year or so. Or the grasslands of Illegea and Ongelya—or all three.”
“If he chooses to do so, and the Lord-Protector does not send any support, he will succeed.”
“Do you think we should aid Deforya?”
“Not so long as the landowners hold power. They cannot control
the people except through water and fear, and they will not spend the coins necessary for an effective fighting force. Nor will that force ever be well commanded.”
“Water? How does that control the people?”
“All the water in Deforya comes from the great ancient aqueducts. Whoever holds the aqueducts controls the water. Without water…” The point was obvious to Alucius, so obvious that he’d seen it as a fresh overcaptain years before.
“I’m glad to know that you agree with the Lord-Protector’s decisions.”
“I did not know the Lord-Protector’s decision,” Alucius said mildly, wondering why Frynkel had such an edge behind his questions. “How could I? I only know what I saw when I was there.”
“You took a great deal upon yourself,” Frynkel suggested.
Alucius did not reply for a time, considering. Finally, he replied. “I had few choices. Even before I reported to Marshal Alyniat, there were colonels trying to order me around, trying to waste my forces on what would have been useless attacks or defenses.”
“Useless? The defense of Southgate was useless?”
“No, sir. Direct attacks on any force with a spear-thrower or any defenses against one, unless you happen to be behind a thick stone wall, are useless.”
“And you didn’t attack directly, Colonel?”
“No, sir. We used stealth to obtain an explosive result.” What Alucius said was true, but not in the way he hoped Frynkel would take it.
“How did you manage that?”
“As I wrote you, sir.”
Frynkel pressed his twitching eye with his left hand. “Ah, yes. Your report. I should get around to reading that.”
Alucius was confused. Frynkel was lying about the report. But if he had read it, why would he say he hadn’t?
“How dangerous are you to the Lord-Protector?” questioned the marshal.
Alucius laughed. “I’m not at all dangerous to him. He’s the only real chance we herders have to keep our way of life.”
Frynkel nodded. “How dangerous are you to the Southern Guard?”
“Not at all. Though some senior officers might feel otherwise.”
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