Cadmians Choice (17 page)

“Yes, sir.”

“If there are any
more arguments or disturbances here in Dulka, I will hold you directly and
personally responsible—immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” The man’s
eyes lowered, and he swallowed.

Sledaryk stood by the
outer door, waiting.

“Back to Myrmidon
headquarters, Undercaptain.”

“Yes, sir!”

Beneath the formality
of Sledaryk’s response, Dainyl detected a vague sense of satisfaction.

They had made it all
the way back to the corner tower and had started across the Myrmidon compound
before the undercaptain spoke again.

what Happened, sir”.’“

“You heard, Sledaryk.
That’s what happened. Majer Faerylt apparently thought he was far better than
he was, and far more important.” The last sentence was certainly true enough. “I
want to speak to all the officers. Immediately, and I don’t care where they
are.”

“Yes, sir.”

While Sledaryk passed
the word, Dainyl seated himself in the commander’s study, behind the desk that
had once been Majer Faerylt’s, his eyes taking in everything in the chamber in
turn. There were no personal artifacts, not that he could see. Not a one. He
might have missed a small item that had personal significance to the late
majer, but it was clear that Faerylt had not been a sentimental or overtly
prideful officer—and that suggested arrogance to Dainyl.

“Sir?” offered
Sledaryk from the study door. “Everyone’s here.”

“Come in.” Dainyl
stood, waiting, surveying the four junior officers as they entered the study
and stood facing him. Finally, he spoke. “For the record, I am Submarshal
Dainyl. I’ve been conducting unannounced inspection tours all across Corus.
When I went to meet Majer Faerylt and the RA, I discovered the majer had
murdered Alector Kelbryt, and I was forced to kill him in order to stop him
from doing the same to me.”

None of the four
looked surprised.

Dainyl waited, once
more, before speaking. “I’ve met Sledaryk and Weltak. I don’t recall meeting
any of you before. If I have, please excuse me. Matters have been rather. ..
intense here.” He looked at the female undercaptain.

“Lyzetta, sir. I’m
the junior undercaptain. Klynd is the senior undercaptain.”

Dainyl shifted his
gaze to the officer beside her. “Is that correct, Klynd?”

The man looked
squarely at Dainyl. “Yes, sir.”

“Then, for the
moment, you’re the acting commander of Seventh Company. Once we’re done here,
choose someone to act as squad leader in your place.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dainyl surveyed the
four, slowly, both with his eyes and his Talent-senses. “What is so important
to keep from a submarshal that both a majer would attack me and an RA?” He
sensed surprise from Lyzetta and Weltak, but none of the four spoke. After a
moment, he went on. “I can see that acting Captain Klynd and Undercaptain
Sledaryk are not surprised and have some thoughts along those lines. Now ... we
can draw this out, and I’ll find out, and be even more displeased, or you two
can explain and make the process far less painful.”

Sledaryk paled, while
Klynd moistened his lips.

They exchanged
glances, and Sledaryk nodded to his senior.

“It’s like this,
Submarshal,” Klynd began. “When the High Alector of the East assigned his son
as the regional alector three years ago, that’s when Submarshal Alcyna promoted
Faerylt to majer. With the new RA and the majer being close, we started getting
more supplies. Not a lot more, but before that, we got what we needed. The
majer said we’d be needing reserves. Sure enough, the summer before last, the
RA hired the locals to begin building a new compound for us. It’s almost
finished. Looks like there’s room for more than two companies. Last year, they
added to the Cadmian compound out on the high road and transferred another two
companies of Cadmians here.”

“Do you know where
the Cadmians came from?” Dainyl didn’t recall any such transfer crossing his
desk. He could have checked if he’d been at headquarters, but that would have
to wait.

“No, sir. No one
said.”

“Why did you think
this was strange? Did you think the majer was hiding something?”

“I don’t know, sir,”
Klynd replied. “The thing is that in thirty years, we never got extra supplies,
not unless we had extra flights or something. Certainly, no one said anything
about a new compound. Then, the High Alector of the East visited two times a
year ago, and three times last year. I’ve never seen one before. It could be
because his son was the RA, but the two of them met with the majer every time.
The majer and the RA spent lots of time together. Usually, company commanders
only meet occasionally with RAs or High Alectors. After that, there was the
trouble in Coren last winter. Sixth Company out of Lyterna was the one first
assigned to overfly that. We heard that before Captain Elysara could even get a
squad airborne, the Highest of the East went to someone in Lyterna, and next
thing we knew, the marshal changed the orders, and we were on the way. Sixth
Company could have gotten there a day earlier.”

“Even in winter?”

“You don’t have to
fly over the Spine. You take the midvale valley and pick up the river heading
east. Unless there’s a storm, it’s an easy flight.”

Dainyl hadn’t known
that, but every company had local knowledge. “You were the ones who discovered
the timbering against the Code?”

“Wasn’t that much,
sir—a patch maybe a quarter vingt on a side. Understood they killed some
patrollers over it.”

“Was there any
evidence of earlier timbering?”

Klynd shrugged. “Might
have been, but not anytime recently. There were two or three patches where the
tree growth looked younger, but I’m not a forester.”

Dainyl was getting an
even more unsettled feeling. He turned to Sledaryk. “Were you in charge of the
overflights at Catyr last winter?”

Sledaryk frowned. “Yes,
sir.”

“The initial reports
indicated overlogging, followed by rains, a mud dam, more rains, and a flood.
Is that correct?”

“Pretty much, sir.”

Dainyl could tell
that the undercaptain wasn’t telling everything. “Captain Klynd has suggested
he could find just a small bit of overlogging. The area at Catyr had to be much
larger for there to be that much flooding. How did you miss the logging?”

“We were never
assigned to fly near Catyr. Not for the last two years, maybe longer. Not a
single squad, sir. You can check the flight logs, sir. We weren’t told not to
fly there, but no one got assigned there.”

Dainyl managed to
keep his expression pleasant. What had been going on in Dulka? More important,
what had been behind it all? “Was there anywhere else you would have expected
to patrol where you didn’t?” His eyes went from one junior officer to the next.

“No, sir.”

“No, sir...”

In the end, even
after another glass of questioning and discussion, Dainyl had discovered little
more than had been revealed in the responses to his first questions. The squad
leaders just didn’t know any more.

He’d be staying in
Dulka for the night, perhaps longer. He was too tired to chance another Table
translation, not when recorders could apparently attack him during such a trip,
brief as it was. He’d also definitely need to set Talent alarms to ensure his
sleep wasn’t interrupted fatally. He just hoped he could eat and get some rest
before something else went wrong. He had no doubts that it would. He just didn’t
know when.

Midafternoon on Londi
had come and gone before Mykel had Third Battalion settled in the Cadmian
compound outside of Southgate on the northeast road. Since he had not seen the
post commander yet, he crossed the paved courtyard, trying to ignore the fine
reddish sandy soil drifted into corners everywhere. Although he blotted his
forehead, the sweat there was more from his own hurrying to ensure everything
was in order than from the heat of the day. That might well change by the time
late spring arrived. Mykel didn’t want to consider still being in Southgate by
full summer. He headed for the small headquarters building set twenty yards
inside the south gate, a gate with hinges that shined only where casually
visible, and with rust elsewhere else. Mykel doubted it had been tested or
closed in years.

The door to the
headquarters was ajar, and a patina of fine sandy dust had drifted across the
gray tiles of the foyer. Beyond the second archway was an open hall, with two
desks, one vacant. At the other sat a senior squad leader who did not look up
until Mykel was less than two yards from him.

“Majer Mykel to see the
post commander.”

The senior squad
leader rose, not quite languidly, eventually assuming a pose approximating
attention. “Yes, sir. Overcaptain Sturyk has been expecting you, sir. This way,
sir.” His steps toward the commander’s study were as leisurely as his bearing.

The study door was
open, and Mykel stepped inside, immediately closing it, and ignoring the
momentary frown on the overcaptain’s face. Sturyk had whitish blond hair,
threaded with silver. His narrow face was tanned, and his bearing distinguished.
He was doubtless at least fifteen years older than Mykel. He rose even more
slowly than had the senior squad leader.

“Majer... you are
Majer Mykel, sir?”

Mykel could sense the
older officer’s consternation at discovering his superior was more than a
decade younger. Even Sturyk’s lifeforce thread had contracted slightly. “The
same, Overcaptain.”

Sturyk offered a
smile, belatedly. “You must excuse me, Majer. When I heard Third Battalion was
being sent here, I had assumed I would see Majer Vaclyn. How is he?”

Mykel returned Sturyk’s
smile with one he hoped was sympathetic, gesturing for the other officer to
resume his seat. “The strain of the campaign in Dramur took a heavy toll on the
majer. He began to think everyone was his enemy, and in the end, he even
attacked a senior alector.” Mykel settled into the chair across the desk from
Sturyk.

“Oh, dear. He was
such a perfectionist. I can see where that could happen.”

Vaclyn had been a
perfectionist about the wrong things, but Mykel wasn’t about to get into that. “I
ended up witfi the field command there, and was confirmed as the commander of
Third Battalion by the Submarshal of Myrmidons and by Colonel Herolt.”

“For such experience,
you wear your years well, Majer.”

“I entered service
young, Overcaptain, and I’ve seen my share of action.” Mykel smiled more
professionally. “Since I didn’t see you when we arrived, I thought I would find
you and let you know the details of my mission and the requirements that it
will place on you and the Cadmians here.”

“I’ve already made
the adjoining study available for you, sir. It’s the same size as this one.
They’re the largest in headquarters, and the visiting barracks and stables were
made ready last week.”

“I saw that, and
we.appreciate that. What about the two companies of trainees?”

‘The last of mem
arrived on Novdi. They’re quartered in me trainee barracks in the southwest
corner.”

“What can you tell me
about them?”

Sturyk shrugged. “Recruits
are hard to get in Southgate. Cadmian duty is regarded as barely a step above
being a deckhand on the most decrepit of fishing boats or idng a day laborer in
the granite quarries to the north. Half are minor malefactors—petty theft and
the like— and the other half are desperate in one way or the other. You’ve got
two or three decent squad leaders, and a fresh captain and a barely promoted
undercaptain. Both of them are honest and originally came from the Hyalt
region, but not from Hyalt itself. They were detached from other companies and
sent here.”

Mykel hadn’t expected
any better. He did hope that the two officers were not only honest, but
competent. “We only have a month before we ride out, and that means a full
training schedule Londi through Novdi, starting tomorrow—”

“Ah ... Majer....”

“Yes?” replied Mykel.

“We ... ah .. . there
are no duties on Novdi, except for the duty squads, of course. That has always
been the policy in Southgate.”

Mykel understood, in
yet another way, why he had been sent. He was likely to have problems in
getting Sturyk’s active cooperation without some form of coercion. The compound
commander had a routine, and it doubtless worked well for the garrison and
policing duties generally assigned.

“Overcaptain, I’m
certain your policies have worked well for the situation here, but I’ve been tasked
with a difficult situation that requires whipping less than raw recruits into a
semblance of Cadmians, and that will require nine days a week, perhaps all ten.”

“The policy here has
been longstanding, Majer. I’m sure you understand the difficulties involved in
changing—”

“I’m not ordering a
direct change in your policies,” Mykel replied politely, “only in those areas
where Third Battalion requires support.”

“Majer ...” Sturyk
shrugged helplessly.

“Having all of Novdi
in a nonduty status may be the longstanding Southgate policy,” said Mykel
evenly, “but that is not what is set forth in the regulations. At the very
least, Novdi morning is a duty period, and we will be using Novdi, perhaps even
Decdi, as necessary, in order to have these men ready in the time required by
Colonel Herolt and by the Marshal of Myrmidons.”

“That timetable, sir,
I fear, is unrealistic.”

“It may well be,
Overcaptain Sturyk.” Mykel smiled pleasantly. “Would you like to write up a
report and submit it to me stating why the timetable is unrealistic?”

Sturyk’s petulant
frown vanished as he swallowed. “I think not, sir.”

“Then I will report
to Colonel Herolt that you believe we can meet the timetable, if we use Novdis
for training. I’d like a brief note from you agreeing with me.”