Authors: L. E. Modesitt
Cadmians Choice (68 page)
“The more fool he.”
She did not answer,
but turned toward the entry foyer. Mykel followed.
Once in the foyer,
she stepped aside and nodded toward the heavy door.
He opened it, then
inclined his head. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome,
Majer.” Her words were cool, dismissive.
He stepped out onto
the outer landing. The doorman shied away, pressing himself back against the
wall.
Feranot led the roan
forward and handed the reins to Mykel, who mounted quickly, then looked back to
Rachyla, who had remained standing in the doorway. Their eyes locked.
She stepped back and
closed the door. But her eyes remained on him until the door separated them.
“Sir?” asked Vhanyr.
“We need to head
back. We have a few matters to take care of.” Such as figuring out how to deal
with the returning alectors without disobeying orders and without getting
killed.
And he had to figure
out why Rachyla had sent him an announcement that she was in Tempre, when it
was clear she still regarded him as an enemy. Did she seek to play him off
against the alectors?
He smiled
sardonically. That he would not put past her in the slightest.
Fhentyl stood waiting
as Dainyl’s pteridon set down north of the way station late on Quattri
afternoon. The flight had tired Dainyl, but not so much as he had feared it
might, although he was stiff.
Rather than hasten
toward the captain, Dainyl stretched and glanced around. Summer thunderclouds
had massed in the west, over the eastern slopes of the Coast Range in the
distance, but they often did in late summer. Seldom did much rain fall east of
those slopes, though, and that was why grazing around Hyalt had to be
controlled—one of the ostensible reasons for a regional alector, although the
simple and truthful reason was that it was where a Table was necessary to
balance the grid.
How many ostensible
truths concealed deeper reasons?
More than he’d
believed possible, Dainyl suspected as he finally picked up his gear and walked
toward Fhentyl.
The junior captain
stiffened slightly as Dainyl approached. “I admit, sir, I’ve been concerned.”
His nose wrinkled, as if the submarshal emitted a noxious odor.
“So have I. You can
sense the presence of the ancients, I take it?”
“Ah ... yes, sir.”
“That was one of the
reasons I was delayed. I inactivated the Table here in Hyalt. I also killed
Rhelyn and several of his assistants. The problem was that he wounded me with a
weapon of the ancients that drains lifeforce. It also ... well, you can sense
it if you look at my left arm. It should vanish in time.” Dainyl snorted. “It
wasn’t my doing.”
“How did you ... ?”
“That’s something I
can’t reveal, except that I learned a trick or two in Lyterna and elsewhere.
The Table can’t be reactivated except with certain equipment and supplies that
I’m fairly sure Hyalt doesn’t have. Have they made any attempts to leave? What
have your patrols discovered?”
“Things haven’t
changed much since you left. Not until this morning, anyway. That was when they
wheeled out two of those lightcannon behind Talent barriers. They took out
Huerlyn in second squad. The blast was strong enough that it destroyed his
skylance as well. The pteridon was singed a bit, but looks all right now. The
rest of the squad came in low and out of the northwest, the way you did, sir.”
Fhentyl smiled grimly. “There’s a large hole in front of the cavern entryway.”
“Have they increased
their use of the lightcannon?”
“No, sir. That’s
dropped off.”
“What about the
Cadmians? Have they reported any action?”
“They’ve reported
some night scouting. They lost several troopers the night before last, but they
claimed that they killed both rebels. I don’t know if others may have escaped.”
“Claimed?”
“Captain Rhystan sent
a package sealed up. His note stated that he had retrieved the enclosed
material and thought the submarshal would like to see it. He also said that
only one trustworthy scout and he had been privy to the material.”
Dainyl couldn’t help
wincing, even though it could have been worse.
“My thoughts also,
sir, but at least their officers are being thoughtful and loyal.”
“That’s true.” More
so than some of ours. “Tomorrow, we’ll take the compound, starting with the
building first.”
Fhentyl looked
puzzled.
“You’re wondering why
we didn’t start that way? Because they could have used the Table to bring more
crystals and components for the lightcannon. They could also have brought in
more rebel alectors. Now that they’re cut off...”
“That’s why you went
to Tempre.”
“We had problems
there, too, as Hyksant can tell you. Fahylt threw in with them, or he was
trying to build his own power base. He actually formed his own mounted rifles
like Cadmians. Majer Mykel wiped them out. He’s holding the RA’s building until
the Duarches decide who to send to replace Fahylt. Or, the Archon forbid, send
Fahylt back.”
“You think they
would?”
Dainyl knew all too
well that was possible if he weren’t successful quickly, but he just shrugged. “That’s
not our problem. Ours is the rebels remaining in Hyalt.” He glanced to the
southeast. He was slightly surprised that Alcyna or Majer Noryan hadn’t shown
up with a pteridon company, but it could be that his own efforts at secrecy had
delayed Alcyna’s ability to react. He hoped so.
“I’m glad you’re
back, sir. You’re certain the arm ... ?”
“I’m almost at full
strength. Let’s get something to eat, and then we’ll go over the plans for
tomorrow.” Field rations or local produce, whatever it might be, he was hungry
enough to eat it.
He started toward the
way station. Despite what he’d told Fhentyl, he was tired, and he had the
definite feeling that his troubles were only beginning.
Fhentyl and Dainyl
stood to the south of the way station, in the cool sunlight just past dawn on
Quinti morning. The haze in the eastern sky was more pronounced and promised an
even hotter and drier late summer day. In the time Dainyl had been in Tempre,
almost all the grasses on the hillsides and rolling plains had turned gold, a
harbinger of harvest season, less than two weeks away.
“We need barrels of
oils that will burn, even tallow, fats, whatever we can get,” Dainyl said. “We’ll
need all the sulfur and pitch that you can find. If you can find arsenic or
other poisons, that would be even better.”
Fhentyl presented the
quizzical expression that Dainyl was beginning to dislike.
“We need to get them
out of there,” Dainyl went on. “That means making the place uninhabitable for
them, or for most of them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“There are openings
on the top where they had those lightcannon firing out through slits. Liquids
can flow down through openings.”
Fhentyl nodded.
“Once the liquids are
there, what happens if we use a skylance to turn them into flame? And if we
keep pouring liquids down there? Remember, they’ve had to keep things sealed up
somewhat. Fifth Company will use sky-lances to help seal anywhere that smoke is
seeping out. After a time, it should get hard to breathe in there.”
The junior captain
swallowed. “They’re alectors... and you’re going to treat them ... like vermin?”
“They are vermin.
They’ve fired on the Myrmidons of the Duarchy, and they’ve killed part of your
company. Do you have a better idea, Captain?”
“No, sir.”
Dainyl could tell
that Fhentyl was less than happy, but then, before the rebellion was crushed,
more than a few alectors weren’t going to be happy. “Would you like to lead the
first assault into those caverns on foot—without doing something like this?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you have any
better ideas about dealing with them? We’ve had them holed up in there for a
week, and more than half that time has been without a Table.” Which means they
think someone is going to rescue them.
Fhentyl’s eyes
shifted away from Dainyl, but he did not reply.
In short, you don’t
like what I’m planning, but you don’t have any other ideas except wait and
hope, and that isn’t going to work. Waiting would only magnify the problems
Dainyl and Fhentyl faced, something that Fhentyl clearly didn’t understand.
“What would you do if
another Myrmidon company attacked us?” Dainyl asked.
“Myrmidons shouldn’t
be fighting Myrmidons, sir.”
“That’s true. But
regional alectors shouldn’t be attacking Myrmidons, either.”
The other problem was
that Fhentyl had become a captain so recently that, while he could conceive
theoretically of rebellion and subversion, accepting either as a reality was
proving extremely difficult for the junior officer.
“Yes, sir.”
Dainyl forced a
concerned expression onto his face. “I understand. It’s a difficult situation,
but we just have to make the best of it, and we need to get on with matters. It’s
going to take all of today, and probably tomorrow to set this up.” That was
optimistic, but Dainyl knew he was running out of time. Yet trying a direct
assault, even with skylances and pteridons, would create horrible casualties,
and might create exactly what the rebels wanted— riderless pteridons that they
could coopt, one way or another. “Go ahead and start trying to gather the
materials. Have the local factors and merchants use their own wagons to
transport the barrels and amphorae to a staging point east of the complex. I’ll
contact Captain Rhystan and have the Cadmians set up to receive all of that. We’ll
also need nets and some strong canvas so the pteridons can lift them to the
clifftop above the cave area.”
Fhentyl nodded
reluctantly.
Dainyl refrained from
mentioning that the rebels had no incentive to surrender. Fhentyl was having
enough difficulties in accepting the situation.
Less than a glass
after dawn, Fifth Company was formed up north of the Hyalt way station, each
Myrmidon beside a pteridon, except for Fhentyl and Dainyl, who stood a distance
apart. While Sexdi and Septi had been hot, the haze and still heat that
surrounded the alectors indicated that Octdi would be even hotter. For all that
it had taken three days to organize the attack, Dainyl was glad in one respect,
because he felt almost recovered from the lifeforce-draining wound inflicted by
Rhelyn.
“Fifth Company, ready
to fly, sir. Third squad is already in position, guarding the barrels and kegs.”
Fhentyl’s voice conveyed a notable lack of enthusiasm.
Dainyl had to wonder
if a friend or relative of the captain might be trapped in Hyalt. It didn’t
matter, not now. “I’ll take first squad to the flat above the caverns, and we’ll
replace third squad. Third squad will take the first passes at sealing off
vents that we haven’t already sealed. Second squad is to have its pteridons
drop heavy boulders on the roof of the outbuilding until there’s a hole big
enough for the brimstone. Fourth squad needs to keep the rebels from bringing
out any of the lightcannon.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’re not taking any
prisoners until after we’ve captured both areas. We don’t have any way to
restrain them. We don’t have enough Myrmidons to watch them, and they’ll escape
from the Cadmians.” The ones here under Captain Rhystan, anyway.
“I understand, sir.
No prisoners until we hold the area.” Fhentyl sounded even less happy than he
had a few moments before.
Dainyl was glad he
had a rationale for his action, because, after what he’d already experienced,
he had no intention of letting any of the rebels live, not if he could help it.
They’d destroy everything that the Duarches had built, and they’d do it in
years, rather than generations.
“Let’s lift off.” He
gave a quick nod before turning and striding across the open space to his
pteridon.
He mounted quickly,
then looked to Hyksant and raised his arm. Lift off... straight ahead.
The pteridon was
airborne, wide blue wings beating strongly, climbing steadily to the southwest.
Before long, below and to his left, Dainyl could make out the Cadmian company
set up on the ridge, standing by in case there might be any stragglers or
escapees from the forthcoming attack. The men and their mounts cast long
shadows in the early sunlight.
Ahead lay the
regional alector’s complex, seemingly deserted, although Dainyl could sense
lifeforce within, even from more than a vingt away. Lower... to the cliff
top... from the north...
“First squad! Follow
the submarshal!” Hyksant’s voice carried through the stillness of the morning
air. “Hold off landing until third squad lifts off the cliffs.”
Dainyl’s pteridon
settled onto a narrow rocky ridge directly to the north of the assembled array
of barrels and kegs. He dismounted and, after climbing over a small jumble of
rocks, walked around two scrubby junipers and toward third squad.
“Undercaptain ...
thank you for standing by here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You understand your
next assignment?”
“We’re to circle and
wait for you to start creating smoke. Then we make passes across the cavern
area, using the hills as cover until the last moment, and employ our lances to
seal whatever places where the smoke comes out.”
Dainyl nodded
acknowledgment. “You may lift off.”
“Yes, sir.”
The submarshal
watched the five pteridons rise. Then he turned and made his way back to his
own pteridon, where he retrieved the skylance and began to make his way down
the rocky incline, staying in sight of the vitreous channel crudely carved and
formed by Talent and skylance over the previous two days. It led to the mostly
blocked highest slits where a lightcannon had been used earlier by the rebels.
At the top of the channel, two Myrmidon rankers from first squad waited with
the kegs, barrels, and the three barrels filled with brimstone, a thick gooey
mass of pitch, heavy oil, and sulfur.