Cadmians Choice

ALECTORS OF
ACORUS

Khelaryt Duarch
of Elcien

Zelyert High
Alector of Justice

Chembryt High
Alector of Finance

Alseryl High
Alector of Transport

Samist Duarch of
Ludar

Ruvryn High
Alector of Engineering

Jaloryt High
Alector of Trade

Zuthyl High
Alector of Education

Brekylt High
Alector of the East [Alustre]

Asulet Senior
Alector—Lyterna

Paeylt Senior
Engineer—Lyterna

Shastylt Marshal
of Myrmidons

Dainyl
Submarshal of Myrmidons—West [Elcien]

Alcyna
Submarshal of Myrmidons—East [Alustre]

Dhenyr Colonel
of Myrmidons—Operations [Elcien]

Noryan Majer of
Myrmidons, deputy to Alcyna

Table Cities
[Recorders of Deeds]

Elcien [Chastyl]

Ludar [Puleryt]

Alustre
[Zorater]

Dereka [Jonyst]

Lysia [Sulerya]

Lytera [Myenfel]

Tempre [Patronyl]

Hyalt [Rhelyn]

Soupat [Nomyelt]

Dulka [Deturyl]

Norda [Kasyst]

Prosp [Noryst]

Blackstear
[Delari]

Faitel [Techyl]

Mykel leaned forward
on the ancient chair In the officers’ mess, finishing rubbery egg toast a good
glass before morning muster, thinking about how much more training his
battalion needed, and debating whether he should extend the mounted unit
maneuvers practice another week. Another ten days might help, if he canceled end-day
passes. He shook his head. That would be too hard on both mounts and morale. He’d
known that rebuilding Third Battalion would be difficult and take time, but he
had his doubts about whether he’d be allowed that time.

Captain Vield walked
through the doors to the mess and straight toward Mykel.

Mykel offered a
pleasant smile, although he distrusted the purposeful stride of the captain,
not personally, but because Vield was the colonel’s adjutant. The captain’s
aura was a golden brown that suggested a background in the Lanachronan fanning
district. Mykel silently warned himself, far from the first time, not to
comment on what the aura revealed. He kept reminding himself because his
growing sense of the depth of life and its ties to the land was so new, and he
had yet to get adjusted to it—or to know truly its extent. He’d always had an
extraordinarily good sense of aim with a rifle, but the seeing of auras was all
too recent. From what he’d overheard, that sort of talent was something like
what the alectors were supposed to have, and the last thing he needed was to
have an alector examining his abilities, not that anyone had ever suggested
that. Still... he had the feeling that concealing the ability was for the best,
especially where alectors were concerned.

“Majer, sir?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Colonel Herolt would
like a moment of your time before muster, sir. At your earliest convenience.”

“I was just
finishing, Captain.” Mykel stood, glancing around the mess. The plastered walls
had once been white, but time and decades of food preparation had turned them a
light beige. Even the yearly whitewash succumbed to the underlying beige within
a few weeks.

The only officer in
the mess from Third Battalion was Captain Culeyt, and he was eating with one of
his former comrades—an undercaptain from Fourth Battalion. Rhystan had not
eaten yet, nor had any of Mykel’s undercaptains.

Mykel could sense
Vield’s eyes following him as he left the mess. Since the campaign in Dramur,
Mykel had been far more aware of others’ feelings about him—or their
scrutiny—as a result of the life-sensing that was a complement to his vision
and not restricted to where his eyes focused. He crossed the stone-paved
courtyard in the light before dawn, making his way to the regimental
headquarters building.

The outer anteroom
was empty, and the door to the colonel’s study was ajar.

“Majer Mykel, come on
in. Close the door behind you.”

Colonel Herolt did
not rise when Mykel stepped into the study, but merely gestured for him to take
a seat. “How are you this morning? How are you coming with getting Third
Battalion back into shape?”

“We’re working at it,
sir.”

“I’ve noticed.”
Herolt paused. “I’d like to give you more time, but we don’t have it.” His eyes
fixed on Mykel. “We’ve received two sets of orders from Myrmidon headquarters.”

“Yes, sir.” Mykel
smiled politely, waiting. From the earlier conversation with the colonel when
Mykel had been given command of the Third Battalion, Mykel knew that whatever
mission was assigned to Third Battalion would be difficult.

“Fourth Battalion
will be going to Iron Stem to maintain order there after all the difficulties.
I had thought about sending you and Third Battalion, but the other requirement
seems particularly suited to your capabilities, Majer. Second Battalion is
returning from the grasslands, and reports permanent casualties over thirty
percent. Fifth Battalion is still operating out of Northport, and Sixth
Battalion is finishing up the relocation of the Squawts from norm of the Vedra.
That doesn’t leave me—or you—much choice.”

Mykel nodded,
waiting. A year earlier, he would have asked for details immediately and
inquired about the high casualties taken by Second Battalion. One thing he had
learned was that such inquiries would not be answered, and would only irritate
the colonel.

“Majer Hersiod and I
will be briefed by the Marshal of Myrmidons tomorrow about Iron Stem. It’s a
more delicate ... situation.”

“Yes, sir.” Mykel understood.
He didn’t like what Herolt was suggesting—that Mykel was lacking in finesse and
just about everything besides battlefield and anti-insurgent tactics—but there
was little enough he could or should say.

Herolt smiled again. “There
are armed groups in the south similar to the Reillies, and they have been
causing trouble in the hills west of Hyalt.”

Hyalt? That was about
as far as one could get from anywhere, even more isolated in some ways than
Dramur, Mykel reflected.

“The leader and the
worst of the troublemakers were handled by a Myrmidon squad several weeks ago,
but the others have gone to ground and scattered throughout the region. This is
similar to what you encountered in Dramur, but on a smaller scale. You should
be able to handle it, while completing your retraining and rebuilding Third
Battalion.”

“Do we have any
information on the troublemakers, sir?”

“Very little. The
High Alector of Justice believes that stronger local control is necessary in
the area, and part of your deployment will require that you facilitate the
rebuilding of a local Cadmian garrison there. There was only a small local
garrison there. It was scarcely more than a patroller outpost, and the rebel
elements wiped them out.

“Third Battalion will
take a transport ship to Southgate first. There you will oversee the remainder
of the training of two companies going to Hyalt. They’re locally recruited
Cadmians. The officers and squad leaders will come from the contingent in
Southgate, but you will be in charge, Majer. You will continue training them on
the ride to Hyalt. You’re expected to arrive there around the first week of
summer. While you are pacifying the rebels, you will supervise the rebuilding
of the garrison in a larger and more permanent locale and install the local Cadmian
cadre there. You’re to have Third Battalion ready to ride out a week from
Octdi. You’ll embark from the Elcien pier....”

Mykel listened as the
colonel went on to outline the schedule and the details of the embarkation
plan.

“... and now you know
what I do, Majer.” Herolt stopped and looked at Mykel.

“Do we know to what
degree the locals supported the rebels?”

“The local merchants
and crafters were the ones who reported the rebel activity and who requested
assistance in establishing a large local patrol force. The High Alector was
reluctant to create a large locally controlled peacekeeping force, and that’s
why a local Cadmian garrison will be established.”

Mykel kept an
attentive expression in place, walling away his consternation. The ride from
Southgate to Hyalt would take between two and three weeks. Spring had begun two
weeks earlier, and that meant he would have less than a month to work with the
new Cadmians before they began the ride to Hyalt—and that was if Third
Battalion embarked on the Duarches’ transport within the week. Hyalt didn’t
sound that different from Dramur, except that he wouldn’t have to deal with a
prison mine and independent local seltyrs. But then, he suspected there would
be something else. There always was.

As the most junior battalion
commander, he had known that he would get the least-agreeable deployments and
duties, but more than half the rankers in Third Battalion were little more than
recruits themselves, and three of his company commanders were junior
undercaptains.

“I did mention the
sort of duties that would fall to Third Battalion, Majer, did I not?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have any
other questions?”

That was a
perfunctory question, Mykel knew, because the colonel had already indicated
that he had provided all he knew—or would say. Still... “If you obtain any
additional information or briefing materials, sir, I would very much appreciate
being able to study them.”

“Anything we get,
Majer, you’ll certainly see.” Herolt smiled and stood. “I’m expecting Majer
Hersiod, to tell him about his assignment to Iron Stem.”

With a nod, Mykel
slipped out of the colonel’s study and made his way to the north wing of the
building and his own, far smaller study. He did not see Hersiod, and that was
probably for the best. He also hadn’t liked the almost casual way that the
colonel had dismissed the high casualties inflicted on Second Battalion,
although the grassland nomad brigands were reported to be far better horsemen
than the mounted rifles. In the past, from what he recalled, the Myrmidons had
dealt with them, but it was clear that had changed, and he doubted he would
find out why any time soon, because Third Battalion would have left Elcien
before Second Battalion returned and the colonel wasn’t about to answer
questions from Mykel that didn’t pertain to Third Battalion. Not for the first
time, Mykel wished that he had access to one of the rumored Tables of the
alectors, the ones that were supposed to show what happened anywhere on Corns.

While he waited for
his officers, Mykel unrolled the maps until he found the one that showed the
southwestern areas of Coras, from Southgate to Soupat and north to Krost and
the west to Hafin. After unrolling the map and securing the corners with lead
map weights, he took out the calipers and measured the distance from Southgate
to Zalt and then north to Tempre and back south to Hyalt. Six hundred twenty
vingts, roughly, or more than two long weeks, at least twenty days on the road.
Given that, he could understand the need for a larger permanent garrison in
Hyalt, but he had to wonder why one had not been established earlier.

As always, Rhystan
was the first to arrive.

“Good morning, sir.”
Rhystan’s deference had concerned Mykel at first when he had first taken
command of Third Battalion. Rhystan had been senior to him when they had both
been captains, but Mykel hadn’t been about to argue when the Marshal of
Myrmidons and the High Alector of Justice had promoted him to majer over
Rhystan. The senior captain in Third Battalion, Rhystan commanded Sixteenth
Company.

“Good morning.” Mykel
gestured to the center chair across the desk.

“Swerkyl said that
the colonel received a dispatch early this morning—well before breakfast,
delivered by pteridon.”

“You know things
before I do.” Mykel laughed easily. “Did Swerkyl know what was in it?”

“He never does. He
just assumes the worst.” A wry smile appeared on Rhystan’s thin lips, then
vanished. “How bad is it?”