Scepters

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “Yes, sir!” The younger sentry turned and ran toward the headquarters’ building. Alucius and Wendra kept walking.

  Ahead of them, the young lancer’s voice echoed through the post. “Majer! The colonel’s back! Big as life!”

  Feran was standing outside, watching as Alucius limped up to the headquarters. He shook his head. “Couldn’t you have found an easier way to spend time with her, sir?”

  Alucius laughed, as much at the dryness of Feran’s voice as anything else. “I didn’t plan it that way. I thought the traders were up to something. They were, and Wendra’s disappearance was connected to it. Once we get her settled in the quarters, I’ll fill you in on what happened.”

  Alucius caught sight of a familiar figure in the doorway. “Dhaghet…would you help my wife up to the quarters?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Wendra smiled at Alucius, an almost enigmatic expression, but one that was both warm and a warning to him not to reveal too much.

  “I’ll be up later,” he promised.

  “Do what you need to do.”

  Alucius nodded, watching as Dhaghet escorted her toward the steps to the upper level. Then he turned and walked into headquarters. Once inside, he made his way into the colonel’s study—his still, he imagined—and waited for Feran to follow.

  Feran shut the door.

  “Where have you been?” asked the older officer. “We found your mount in an orchard south of Salaan. A grower reported it. I was holding off reporting your disappearance.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” With a deep breath, Alucius settled into the chair behind the desk, happy to get off his feet.

  “Was this…the traders? Tarolt?”

  “It’s worse and more complicated than I’d thought. I started out tracking down Tarolt because I thought he had to have used Talent to steal from the Guard. He caught me off guard and locked me up, in a special way, and I got shot up some more…”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Feran asked dryly. His eyes narrowed, and he frowned. “The traders have Talent?”

  Alucius had thought out how he wanted to approach that question. “We had it backward. The traders are working with the Regent. They might even be controlling her, rather than the other way around. That’s why they don’t want anyone to win. Tarolt has more Talent than the prophet did. That’s how so many old traders died, and why all the others do what he wants. He’s got two or three others with Talent working with him. He probably used Talent to control Weslyn. That could be why he and Imealt tried to kill me.”

  “I wondered about that. It didn’t make sense,” Feran said slowly. “Not unless they knew you had Talent. You’ve always been a target. There have been more bullets aimed at you than at anyone else.” He paused, then asked, “Is it because you’re the only one who can stand up against that kind of Talent?”

  “I didn’t think so at first, but that just might be it.” Alucius offered a shrug. “You remember the traders with the silver wheel on their wagons?”

  “The ones who supplied the prophet? I thought that was Halanat and his son.”

  “It was. But Tarolt was the one behind it. He’s been controlling everything.” Alucius leaned forward slightly. “I was scouting out his place south of Salaan, but he’d been watching me, and they set up a trap. I guess I got too cocky. I ended up in a strange place with stone walls all around. The guards there weren’t as good as Tarolt and his men, but it took some time to get free, and then I found Wendra.” Those words were true in a sense, as true as Alucius dared to make them.

  “I won’t ask how you managed that.” After a pause, the majer asked, “What can we do?” He smiled, crookedly. “Knowing you, you’ve got a plan. And knowing you, you’d not be too happy with anyone who hurt your wife.”

  “I’m not. But I’m even angrier at what Tarolt has done, and all the lancers killed on all sides just so they can get more power and golds. We’ve got a war between Lanachrona and Madrien, and if we don’t do something, before long the Regent will be attacking all our companies in the north.”

  “You think that stopping Tarolt will help?”

  “More than you know.”

  Feran shook his head. “When you talk like that, it’s hard to believe otherwise.”

  “You’ve seen it. Weslyn did what they wanted. If we hadn’t come back when we did, what would have happened to the Iron Valleys?”

  “Nothing good. So…what do we do now?”

  “We stop Tarolt and the handful around him. Most of the traders have just been controlled by Tarolt and Halanat. Halanat’s dead. We take care of Tarolt, and things will eventually settle down. But…we’ll have to be very careful. We can’t storm his stronghold the way we did with the prophet. It would take years for the Guard to recover from that, and the Lord-Protector might want both our heads—or at least our immediate resignations or dismissals. And we’d lose a lot of troopers to Talent, and we don’t need that, either.”

  “I can see that,” Feran said. “If it’s possible, I’d like to stay in service and alive long enough to collect a stipend.”

  “I’d like that, too. So…Wendra and I will do the dirty work—”

  “Wendra? She…you’ve got a child.”

  “She’s also a herder, and I need someone who can resist Talent and handle a rifle.” Alucius needed more than that, but that was as much as he was about to admit.

  Feran chuckled ironically. “Anything that needs two of you…”

  “Tarolt and his two assistants can use Talent up close, but not from a distance. We’ll take advantage of that. We’ll use Faisyn and first squad to keep them pinned inside so that they can’t escape.”

  “Then what?”

  “Tarolt and his people are holed up in a building just south of the orchard—it was an apricot orchard, wasn’t it, where you found the chestnut?”

  “All those fruit trees look alike to me.”

  “We’re just going to sneak in the underground entrance and flush them out.”

  “Just like that? You and Wendra?” Feran raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to stay in one piece this time, or is this going to be like the business with the prophet?”

  “It could be worse,” Alucius admitted.

  “Can’t we just…” Feran paused. “They were really behind the Regent?”

  “And Weslyn, and the attacks on Twenty-first Company when we were at Emal.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Three that I know of, but there could be more. They were training more people in using Talent. I don’t know where they came from, but they could use Talent.” Again, Alucius was stretching the truth.

  “How about two squads?”

  Alucius considered for a moment. “Two would be fine. I don’t like the idea of riding an entire company up to a trader’s building. Oh, and I need a mount for Wendra, and another rifle for her. I’ll pay for them, but she’ll need them.”

  “The man is trying to save his homeland, and he still thinks about not abusing his position.” Feran shifted his weight in the wooden chair. “Then, that’s another reason why I trust you when you tell me something strange like this. It also doesn’t hurt that you’re always right. Anyone who wagers against you loses.”

  “Not always. I did end up in the Matrite forces.”

  “True. But who else ever escaped, except the ones you brought back?”

  “There must have been some,” Alucius demurred.

  “When do you want to do this?” asked Feran.

  “Tomorrow morning, starting two glasses before dawn.”

  “I could have guessed. You’ve always had that herder habit of getting up early.”

  Alucius laughed, once. “I’d prefer to sleep later, but I need the darkness to set up things, and I worry about their bringing in more Talent.”

  “Tarolt can’t be just a trader.”

  “He’s not. But we’ll leave it at that.”

  “So long as you’re colonel, that’s fine by me.
”

  “So long as I’m the one explaining? I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to explain. But it doesn’t matter. We have to stop Tarolt before he does any more damage.”

  “With what he’s done already, that’s good enough for me. How do you want to approach his stronghold?”

  Alucius opened the drawer, looking for paper on which to sketch out his plan, and Feran eased his chair up to the other side of the desk.

  It was late afternoon by the time Alucius and Feran had finished working out the details, including briefing Faisyn on the particulars of the next morning’s attack. Alucius had only munched on some dry travel bread, and his stomach was growling as he walked up the steps to the commander’s quarters.

  He had barely closed the door when Wendra met him, draped in one of his tunics.

  “It was good to get washed up, but I just had to wash out everything I’d been wearing. I hope you don’t mind.”

  He eyed her appreciatively. “I don’t mind at all. Where’s Alendra?”

  “She’s sleeping in the second bedroom.”

  Alucius grinned widely.

  Wendra flushed.

  After a moment, they both laughed.

  153

  Early on Tridi morning, two and a half glasses before dawn, Alucius had finished his simple breakfast of bread, cheese, dried fruit, and water. So had Wendra, and she had just changed Alendra and strapped her into the carrypack.

  “You’re wearing nightsilk?” asked Alucius.

  “I told you I was. That’s why I washed it yesterday.”

  “Are you sure you can use the rifle with her?” asked Alucius.

  “I’m sure.” A tinge of exasperation colored Wendra’s voice. “The carrypack holds her out of the way, and it’s nightsilk. I’m used to it. I’ve ridden the stead and shot sandwolves with her. I’ve even killed a black sander and one of those pteridons…”

  Alucius hadn’t realized that the wild translations had continued to track Wendra. She’d never said a word.

  “…Besides, it will take two of us. You’ve gotten hurt every single time you’ve gone against the ifrits by yourself. And I’m not leaving Alendra. Don’t even suggest it.”

  “She’d be safe here,” Alucius ventured.

  Wendra looked directly at him. “For how long…if anything happens to either of us? I can’t help you if I’m worrying about her, and you can’t do this without me. We have to do it together.”

  “I could detail a squad.”

  “How much good would they be against those ifrits?”

  Alucius decided against saying more. “We’d better head down to the courtyard.” He slipped on the nightsilk riding jacket. With the vest under his tunic, he trusted that his body was as well protected as possible. Wendra was wearing his lighter nightsilk riding jacket, with the bottoms of the sleeves rolled up. He just hoped that they wouldn’t come under rifle fire from the ifrits.

  He picked up both his rifles and slung the saddlebags over his shoulder. All that was inside were packages of travel fare, as well as two belt water bottles. All the cartridges in his belt and in the magazines of his rifles and Wendra’s rifle were already infused with dark lifeforce, but they needed to do the same for the rifles of the lancers who would be accompanying them.

  Alucius waited at the door for Wendra and Alendra, then closed it behind them. It thudded shut with a heavy dullness.

  Dhaget had their mounts saddled and waiting, but after putting the saddlebags in place, Alucius took a moment to check everything before slipping the rifles into their cases. Wendra had already mounted by the time he finished. As the two squads began to form up in the darkness, Alucius and Wendra began to infuse the cartridges of first squad with lifeforce darkness.

  “That’s not tiring you, is it?” he asked.

  “Dear…I’m fine.”

  Alucius winced. Somehow, it was different with Wendra accompanying him. She was more capable than most of the lancers, if not all of them, and yet…he couldn’t help worrying.

  “If I fussed over you,” she whispered quietly, leaning toward him, “the way you are over me, you’d have removed my head a good glass ago.”

  He flushed, glad that it was dim enough in the courtyard that she could not see. “I’m sorry,” he finally replied, in a low voice.

  “You don’t have to be sorry. Just don’t do it anymore.”

  Alucius couldn’t help smiling.

  Faisyn reined up, less than three yards away. “First and second squads are present and ready, Colonel.”

  “Thank you, Faisyn. I’d like to say a few words to them before we head out.”

  “Yes, sir.” Faisyn turned his mount. “Listen up. Colonel’s got a few words for you!”

  Alucius urged the chestnut forward, then reined up, waiting for the last murmurs to die away before speaking, using a touch of Talent to boost his voice and project absolute conviction. “As some of you may know, I was on a mission for the Lord-Protector, trying to find out some things. What I discovered is that a trader here has Talent, just like the prophet. This trader was the one who trained the prophet, and he was the one who corrupted Colonel Weslyn. They’ve been working to weaken the Northern Guard so that the Regent can move into parts of the Iron Valleys. This morning, your job is simple. You’re to make sure that no one escapes from the trader’s stronghold. These people are like the prophet’s lancers. They’ll keep coming and try to kill you until they’re dead. They’re about as evil and as low as anyone can be, and they’ve done just about everything they can to weaken the Guard and get you and the other lancers killed off so that they could make a few golds. We’re going to put a stop to it. When we get where we’re going, senior squad leader Faisyn will deploy you so that you can cover all the entrances to the stronghold. Under no circumstances are you to leave your group. That’s all.” Alucius turned to Faisyn. “Let’s head out.”

  “Colonel’s detail, form on the colonel.”

  Four lancers rode forward, headed by Dhaget and Fewal, moving in behind Alucius and Wendra. Once they were in position, Alucius urged the big chestnut toward the gates. Wendra kept pace.

  “Squads, forward! Silent riding! Silent riding!”

  The small force rode through Dekhron, toward the River Vedra bridge. Outside of insects, and the occasional squalling of a stray cat, or the barking of a dog, the loudest sound was that of hoofs on the street, a clicking that sharpened once they turned onto the eternastone high road north of the bridge.

  Selena had set shortly after sunset, but the tiny green disc of Asterta was close to its zenith as Alucius reached the midpoint of the bridge. Was that a sign? With a wry smile, Alucius dismissed it as mere coincidence.

  Few as the lamps were in Dekhron, by comparison, Salaan was totally dark, and Alucius had to rely on both his Talent and his herder’s nightsight to pick out the side road leading toward the Table building—and the scepters within. All the time, Asterta stood high in the predawn sky, symbol of the ancient goddess of war, a tiny, bright green disc shedding little light.

  As Alucius led his force away off the side road and westward along the lane toward the eastern end of the orchard that bordered the Table building, the faintest trace of gray had begun to appear above the eastern horizon. They had ridden only a few hundred yards down the lane when Alucius turned in the saddle and whispered, “Faisyn!”

  “Sir…”

  “Here’s where we leave you. You know what to do. Don’t let anyone get close to you and the men, and don’t let them escape. If you shoot someone, leave them where they fall.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Alucius turned the chestnut to the south, leading the way across the meadow toward the dip in the hillside. Tarolt’s Table building was almost a vingt to the southwest from the point he and Wendra had picked out. When they reached the base of the low hills, Alucius guided the chestnut up the swale, extending his Talent sense, trying to seek out the ley lines beneath the clay and rock of the hillside.

  Halfway up,
he reined the chestnut to a halt. “This is as close as we can ride.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  After he dismounted, Alucius handed the chestnut’s reins to Dhaget, while Wendra handed those of her roan to Fewal. Alucius took both his rifles from their cases, then looked up at Dhaget. “This could be over in a glass, or it could take half a day. If you see anyone coming from the building to the west, shoot them. Otherwise, just wait.”

  “Yes, sir.” Dhaget’s voice held a slight question.

  “We’re going to try to enter through a hidden underground entrance. You can’t do it unless you’re a herder or have Talent.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Alucius looked to Wendra and Alendra. Their daughter was awake, peering through the predawn dimness, but making only slight gurgling sounds.

  “We’ll walk up a ways.”

  Wendra nodded.

  After about thirty yards, Alucius stopped. “Can you feel them?” He hooked the second rifle to the makeshift clip on his belt.

  “I think we’re close enough.”

  “We’ll try to come out on the east end of the Table room, and you’ll have to be ready to fire the moment you can…If we don’t have time to reload, we drop under and come back here.”

  “I’m taking whichever side I’m on, and you’re taking the other?”

  “That’s right.”

  Alucius concentrated on letting a Talent-probe weave through the ground beneath him, seeking a firm contact with the misty blackness of the ley lines beneath. As he probed, he was ever more aware of Wendra’s presence. He brought up the rifle into a firing position, knowing that he would emerge in that same position. Wendra followed his example.

  Alendra gurgled happily.

  “There…” he murmured, as his probe touched and linked to the darkness below.

  “Me too.”

  Alucius felt himself merging with the blackness beneath and with the hillside as he dropped down toward the ley line. He could sense Wendra and Alendra as well, even as they reached the chill darkness that they would travel such a short distance. Above them was the purpled hard blackness of the ifrit’s translation tube, and ahead were the maroon and green of the Table and the purple pinkness of the scepter and the portal it created. The silvery barrier wavered before him, and he could make out two ifrits beyond the Table.