“More than I’d like,” Feran admitted. “Would have liked to go back to Emal.”
Alucius nodded. So would he, but they’d been ordered to Dekhron.
Dekhron felt tired. That was the only way Alucius could have described the town. Once he might have called it a city, but half its streets were dusty packed clay, and only the area around the river piers contained even halfway-imposing structures.
The column turned westward and rode on, passing smaller dwellings. Now and again, a child looked up at the dusty troopers, and once, a mother dragged a youngster away from the dusty avenue.
Headquarters was a much larger version of Emal Post, clearly visible from several hundred yards away, with a stone wall enclosing a space almost half a vingt on a side, and stables, barracks, and officers’ quarters all of dressed limestone, with split-slate roofs on all the buildings, and stone pavement covering all the courtyard spaces. The two troopers at the front gate stiffened as they caught sight of the column riding down the avenue that paralleled the river.
Alucius rode forward, then slowed Wildebeast. “Overcaptain Alucius and four companies reporting as ordered.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alucius didn’t wait for acknowledgment, but just kept riding, gesturing for the rest of the column to follow. He had barely reined up outside the stables on the south side of the outpost when Colonel Weslyn appeared, followed by a captain and several squad leaders. The colonel wore a well-tailored and immaculate black uniform with the blue silk shoulder wedges. Alucius was all too aware of his worn uniform and the hastily mended rent in his sleeve.
“Overcaptain Alucius! Welcome back! You and your troopers have done the impossible.” Weslyn smiled broadly. “That’s what the Lord-Protector claims, and who are we to argue with the Lord-Protector?”
“It all depends on what you mean by impossible, Colonel.” Before Weslyn could answer, Alucius added, “We killed pteridons and their riders who used the ancient skylances, and we destroyed over seventy companies of nomads after the Deforyans were trapped and surrounded. The Landarch of Deforya awarded us the Star of Gallantry and reprovisioned us and sent us home. The Lord-Protector agreed, and here we are.”
“Indeed you are.” Weslyn offered another overbroad smile. “I imagine you are road-weary and would like to settle your men.”
“And our mounts.” Alucius looked back toward the end of the column at the supply wagons. “We do have some supplies left. Not many, but some that might be useful. They’ll need to be unloaded. I’m sure you have some troopers who could do that.”
“That we do.”
Alucius would have distrusted the colonel’s helpfulness, even had he not picked up the sense of anger and discomfort behind the pleasant words. He waited.
“Arms-Commander Wyerl has conveyed his appreciation of the tasks you accomplished and he has commended the Northern Guard. Once you have gotten your men quartered, and settled in the visiting officers’ quarters…As an overcaptain in charge of multiple companies, you rate senior officers’ quarters.” Weslyn paused, then went on. “Majer Imealt and I would like to take you and your officers to dinner, not just at the mess. You deserve better than that.”
“Thank you, sir. I think Captain Feran, Captain Koryt, and I would very much appreciate that.”
“Until then, Overcaptain, Captains. Captain Dezyn will help you and answer any questions.”
At the colonel’s nod, the slender blond captain stepped forward. Weslyn smiled broadly before heading back into the headquarters building.
“Sir…how many troopers…”
“One hundred and sixty-one, plus three squad leaders, ten wagoners, and seven wagons. And three officers. Also, ten spare mounts.” Except they hadn’t been spare until after the fight with the nomads. “We’ve got troopers assigned to three companies, but they came from four.”
“Yes, sir. The best barracks are the north ones, and they’re empty and clean…”
Alucius nodded.
It took more than a glass to get the mounts stabled and the troopers settled, and Alucius found himself escorted up the steps to the top level of the officers’ quarters by Captain Dezyn, carrying both rifles and saddlebags.
Dezyn looked at the pair of rifles, but said nothing until they reached the top of the steps. “You have your pick, sir, but the second quarters are the best.”
“I’ll take them.” Alucius hoped they would be clean, and the bed decent.
“Ah…sir. The colonel will meet you below in just over half a glass.”
“Thank you for reminding me.” Alucius forced a smile. As tired as he was, he dreaded having dinner with the colonel, but his tiredness was probably why the colonel was insisting—and including Koryt and Feran. “Would you mind telling Captain Feran and Captain Koryt?”
“No, sir. I’d planned to.” Dezyn opened the second door off the balcony. “The key is on the desk, and linens are already here.”
“Thank you.” Alucius stepped inside and closed the door.
The room was clean, and larger than any quarters Alucius had seen in the Iron Valleys—a good six yards by four, with a double-width bed, a large writing desk, twin wall lamps, an armoire, a weapons rack, boot trees, and an attached washroom. But then, he’d never been put in senior quarters before. That worried him—almost as much as having dinner with the colonel.
All he really wanted to do was get back to Wendra and the stead. He had been able to handle—if barely—nomads and raiders and battles. What he hadn’t been able to best was golds and intrigue, and he worried that somehow getting back to the stead and his wife was going to be far harder than it seemed, even if he didn’t know why.
Slowly, he hung up his gear and undressed, before walking to the washroom.
It took the full half glass just to wash up and clean off his uniform as well as he could.
After dressing, he rebelted his sabre and walked to the door. He took a deep breath and stepped out into the late afternoon. The colonel and a dapper majer with smooth black hair and deep blue eyes were waiting at the base of the stairs up to the senior officer’s quarters. Feran and Koryt had already joined them.
Weslyn nodded to the majer. “Overcaptain Alucius, this is Majer Imealt.”
Alucius inclined his head. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine, Overcaptain. Tales of your exploits are already legend.”
“I fear that I could not live up to any such tales,” Alucius demurred. “I’m just a herder who’s tried to do his best.”
“Would that we had more such.”
“You don’t mind walking a few yards, do you?” asked the colonel. “I had thought we would go to Elyset’s. The board says it’s the Red Ram, but everyone calls it by her name. I sent someone over to have her hold the large corner table for us.”
“You know where it might be best,” Alucius replied. “So long as it’s not too far.”
“It’s close, and very friendly,” Majer Imealt added.
“I take it that it was a long ride back,” commented Weslyn, walking beside Alucius and leading the way toward the smaller south gate, an archway in the wall, guarded by but a single trooper, large enough only for those on foot.
“More than two weeks. We had to stop a few days at Fort Senelmyr. Both the men and the horses needed the rest.” Alucius offered a head-shake. “I didn’t realize how barren it is to the east. There’s nothing there.”
“It is a long road, I’ve been told,” Weslyn said. “How did you find the Lanachronan majer?”
“He was a bit doubtful at first, but, in the end, we got along well. I’d say he was a good officer. He was just unlucky enough to be caught in the wrong place in the final battle.”
Weslyn was right about one thing. The Red Ram was less than a hundred yards south of the post, an old redstone building set on the corner, with ancient and narrow windows. Elyset met them at the door. The graying proprietress smiled professionally at the colonel. “The corner table’s ready for you, Colonel.
”
Alucius could sense that she didn’t care much for Weslyn, smile or not, and that the colonel knew it and didn’t care.
“Thank you, Elyset.” Weslyn gestured to Alucius. “This is Overcaptain Alucius. He’s the one who led the force that turned back the nomads.”
Alucius smiled and inclined his head, projecting warmth and friendliness. “We did what needed to be done. I’m pleased to meet you.” He grinned. “What’s the tastiest thing you have tonight?”
Elyset laughed, as Alucius hoped she would. “He’s a real trooper, Colonel!” She turned to Alucius, and said in a lower voice, “there’s some quail. Girls won’t tell you, but tell ’em I told you.”
“I’ll tell them.”
Weslyn repressed a frown and forced a smile. “I told you he was.”
Alucius nodded toward the two captains to the right of Majer Imealt. “So are they. Couldn’t have done it without them.”
“Let’s get you seated.” Elyset moved away from the officers, leading the way toward the corner beside a cold hearth covered with a wicker screen. “Here you go.”
The majer and the colonel moved to seat themselves in the armless wooden chairs on each side of Alucius. While he might have avoided it, he decided to be oblivious to the maneuver.
Lagging slightly behind the others, Feran caught Alucius’s eye and raised his eyebrows. Alucius returned the gesture with the slightest of nods at the moment when the colonel and majer were seating themselves. Feran grinned, then wiped the expression from his mouth.
“What’ll you swells have?” asked the server, a woman neither young nor old.
“What do you have?” asked Imealt.
“You know the drinks. Tonight…there’s stew. Always stew. Lamb cutlets, and the Vedra chicken with the heavy noodles. And lymbyl.”
“Lymbyl with the good red wine,” Imealt ordered.
Both captains chose the chicken with ale, and the colonel had the lymbyl with ale. The server looked at Alucius.
Some folk couldn’t get enough of lymbyl, but Alucius had never liked the eel-like fish. “The ale…and…ah…Elyset mentioned something about quail…”
“Might be some. Let you know.” With that, the server was gone.
Imealt turned to Koryt. “You’re commanding the Third and Eleventh Companies?”
“What’s left of them, sir. Fifty-seven troopers in all.” Koryt waited.
“You said you had something like a hundred and sixty men left out of four hundred?” Weslyn inquired of Alucius, almost absently, as if he had to ask something.
“That’s about right. About a third of our losses came in the Barrier Range, after the Deforyans withdrew and left us holding Black Ridge. The rest came after we fought clear and got back to Dereka and had to defend the city. Aellyan Edyss had somewhere over a hundred companies. And the pteridons.”
“Pteridons?”
Alucius could sense the colonel’s surprise, and that bothered him because he’d already mentioned the pteridons. Hadn’t the man been listening? “We didn’t find out about that until we met the Southern Guards at Senelmyr. We were all worried when Majer Draspyr told us.” Alucius decided against mentioning that the pteridons had routed the forces of the Praetor of Lustrea. “That was one reason why they wanted the Northern Guard. We carry heavier rifles, and they thought that anything that was good against a sander might be better than what they had against a pteridon.”
“I gather it was,” Weslyn suggested.
“Not as good as we’d have liked, but we managed.” Alucius picked up the beaker of ale the server had set before him and took a slow swallow.
“I understand that you and the Deforyans routed the nomads, and they returned to Illegea.”
“Not exactly, sir,” Feran replied before Alucius could. “The nomads tried to encircle everyone. The overcaptain used a tight formation, we broke free. Let us shoot down the pteridons and catch the blue bastards from behind.”
“Blue…”
“Oh, the nomads wore blue breastplates,” Feran replied. “We killed so many that the Landarch covered his courtyard wall with them. Deforyans aren’t all that good.”
“Ah…” Imealt glanced at Koryt. “You haven’t said much, Captain.”
“Not much to say, sir. Captain Feran had it right. Without the overcaptain, we’d have been slaughtered. Instead, we did the slaughtering. Lost a lot of troopers, but they lost a lot more.” Koryt took refuge behind his beaker of ale.
“The dispatch from Marshal Wyerl said that the nomads brought over a hundred companies against you.” Weslyn’s voice conveyed polite doubt.
“I don’t know the exact number,” Alucius admitted. “But the Landarch recovered something like six thousand breastplates. There could have been more, but that’s how many he had attached to the walls.”
“Quite an accomplishment,” Weslyn replied. “No wonder the Lord-Protector wishes to see you…”
“Here you go!” The server slid platters in front of each of the men.
Alucius noted that he had gotten his quail. He waited only until the others had theirs before cutting and taking a bite. He was hungry, and the fowl was tasty—and tender.
For a brief time, no one talked, but it wasn’t long before Weslyn finished a sip of his wine and looked once more at Alucius. “It’s a very rare honor, even in Lanachrona, to be summoned to the Lord-Protector.”
“I’d heard that.”
“And you are representing the Northern Guard—all of us, so to speak. It’s at a time when golds are short here in the north…”
“They’ve always been short,” interjected Feran dryly.
“Ah, yes. That they have, but perhaps with the performance that you all have achieved the Lord-Protector might look upon us more favorably and more wisely than did the Council…”
Alucius wondered if it were possible to have looked less wisely than had the Council.
“…future assignments…promotions…all those hang in the balance at present…
As Weslyn continued to talk, pressing Alucius to provide favorable information to the Lord-Protector, Alucius took in two traders, one round-faced and in a dark blue tunic, and the second, white-haired and in black, who sat at a wall table less than three yards away. Although they talked to each other, and ate, they also listened, often intently. Alucius made a point of not looking at them, even as he wondered why they were interested—and what exactly they wanted. More than once, he could feel their eyes on him.
“…important that the Lord-Protector can believe that the Northern Guard is trustworthy as well as effective…”
For the rest of the meal, Alucius mainly listened—and ate—and tried to keep from yawning too often, tired as he was.
No one spoke much on the way back to the post.
Outside the visiting officers’ quarters, Colonel Weslyn offered last words. “I’ll see you all in the morning, after the regular muster, but you and your men are excused from that.”
“Thank you,” Alucius replied, waiting and watching until the colonel and the majer left.
After that, Alucius made sure that Egyl and the squad leaders knew that they and the troopers did not have to muster, although, if they wanted to eat, they’d still have to get up early. Then he climbed the steps to his room. Even before he had done more than loosen his sword belt, there was a knock on the door to Alucius’s quarters. Alucius could sense Feran even before he opened the door and motioned for the other to enter.
“What do you think?” asked Feran, glancing back at the closed door.
“Weslyn’s worried. The traders don’t trust him; the Lord-Protector doesn’t trust him. I’d be worried too.”
“You think they’ll still send Fifth Company to Eastice?”
“Not immediately, I’d guess. They’ll have to consolidate companies. They might merge Twenty-first Company and Fifth Company—if they let me go back to being a herder. If they do that, I’d guess you’d get—we’ll all get a month of furlough, then light du
ty for a month, and then they’ll send you someplace like Wesrigg for a season…”
“And then to Eastice?”
“Or Soulend for an attack on Madrien,” Alucius suggested.
“You’re always so cheerful. You really think they’ll let you go?”
“I worry about it,” Alucius admitted. “I worry a lot.”
“How could they hold you?”
“Threaten to raise tariffs on nightsilk, or on the stead lands. Or the Lord-Protector could just order me to stay.” Alucius shook his head. “Just what could I do if they did any of that?”
“You couldn’t.”
“Exactly.” Alucius paused. “But, if it comes up…and I can, I’ll see what I can do for you and Fifth Company.”
“You don’t—”
“Who else? I’d rather have you with Fifth Company—and Twenty-first.” Alucius stifled a yawn.
“You’re tired.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“Get some sleep.” Feran smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
After Feran left, Alucius disrobed slowly. What could he do? What should he do? And he still didn’t know why the spirit-woman had shown him the mural in Dereka, but he feared what might happen when he found out.
83
Alucius had spent most of the morning working with the clerks at Northern Guard headquarters to arrange for the back pay of troopers, since his stocks of golds—those sent to the companies before leaving Emal—had run out at about the time he had been recovering from his wounds in Dereka. Then, he’d had to argue over sending the two-gold payment to the families of the dead—the golds supplied by the Landarch—because he didn’t have the records of families with him. Even Majer Imealt had sided with him on that, but that could have been because the golds weren’t coming out of the Northern Guard’s treasury.
After that, he’d had to arrange for replacement uniforms and gear, then write out the letters and appointments necessary to promote Egyl to senior squad leader and four other experienced troopers to squad leader. By that time, it was almost noon.
Immediately after the midday dinner, Alucius slipped back to his comparatively capacious quarters and wrote a letter to Wendra, knowing that at last he had a chance to get word to her.
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