Cadmians Choice (69 page)

It took Dainyl a
quarter glass in climbing down the slope before he stood a mere three yards
from the target slit, but behind a chunk of redstone.

“Ready?” Dainyl
called.

“Yes, sir,” Hyksant
called back.

“Start with a barrel
of oil! A bit at a time.”

“Coming, sir.”

Although his pteridon
was on the cliff above, it was close enough to recharge the skylance he held.
He lifted the weapon and waited.

His eyes went
skyward, where third and fourth squads circled. Third squad waited to begin
sealing vents, fourth squad to attack any sign of rebel activity.

A stream of oil began
to flow down the channel. Within the first few barrels of oil was some of the
sulfur Hyksant had been able to discover and retrieve from Hyalt, although most
was in the brimstone that would come later. Dainyl forced himself to wait, just
to allow the oils to keep flowing, while he let his Talent monitor their
progress down into the large central chamber that lay below the staircase and
landing on which the one lightcannon had been mounted.

A quick flash of
light flared from somewhere below Dainyl, and a pteridon wheeled and swooped,
its flier triggering bursts from his skylance in returning fire. The pteridon
rose and passed directly over Dainyl before climbing farther skyward.

Dainyl checked the
oil flow with his Talent, then turned back up toward first squad. ‘The liquid
brimstone! Now!”

The shadow of one of
the second squad pteridons crossed Dainyl, and he watched as the pteridon, a
large boulder in its crystalline talons, flew out from the cliff and released
the boulder. Dainyl could hear the impact easily as the boulder crashed onto
the slightly slanted roof of the stone building that stood a good hundred yards
to the east of the cliffs and the cavern complex.

Another pteridon
followed the first. This time, the Myrmidon ordered a release too early, and
the chunk of redstone slammed into the side of the second and highest level.

Dainyl turned his
attention back to the vitreous channel and the gooey sludgy ooze that crept
past him to the battered slit that afforded access to the tunnels and chambers
below.

After a quarter of a
glass, when close to a barrel of brimstone was oozing downward inside the
complex, Dainyl triggered the lance, aimed directly at the point where the oil
dripped from the overhang and into the space in the slit. Yellowish flame flared,
and black oily smoke. Dainyl extended his shields, with just enough force so
that the smoke and flame triggered by the lance had no place to go but down,
following the mixture of oils into the caverns below.

He held the shields
so that the flames did not creep back up the channel and so that the smoke was
forced downward and into the alector’s spaces.

Dainyl had calculated
that the oils and brimstone used so far might burn for as long as half a glass.
Then they would have to begin the process again. After that, he would have to
start using the skylance to heat the channel and melt tallow and fats to burn,
and he would still have to hold the shields.

What he planned was
long, hard, and tedious. It also might result in far fewer Myrmidon casualties.

Above him, the second
squad pteridons continued their circling bombardment, picking up boulders where
they easily could to the north and west of Dainyl, then swooping down on the
freestanding building, and releasing their loads.

He glanced at the
building. Already a good third of the tile roof was smashed, and he could see
several of the roof timbers already where the tiles had been battered away or
crushed.

Dainyl kept working
on firing the oils and brimstone and forcing them into the caverns. Even from
where he was working, the stench was close to unbearable.

Abruptly, one of the
circling pteridons of fourth squad swooped, lance flaring, then another. One
pteridon did not follow the others, but merely circled. Without a Myrmidon, it
would follow the squad until Fifth Company returned to Dereka. Then it would
not rise into the sky until a new Myrmidon became its flier.

A thin line of smoke
issued from the cliffside to the south of Dainyl, and within moments, the third
squad Myrmidons began to make passes over the area. It took two passes by the
entire squad before the plume of smoke dwindled away to the faintest haze.

Another bombardment
run by second squad, and even more of the roof timbers of the outbuilding had
been revealed, and in several places, there were gaping holes in the roof.

Dainyl turned and
called up the slope. “Hyksant! Take the keg of brimstone and hit the timbers on
the outbuilding!”

“Galya! Stand by!”
Hyksant relayed the order.

The petite Myrmidon
slipped into the silver saddle.

Her pteridon grasped
a keg, then burst skyward, before gliding eastward away from the cliff.

Dainyl watched. The
keg struck one of the exposed timbers, close to the ridgeline, and brimstone
oozed across the timbers and began to drip below. Dainyl lifted his lance and
concentrated. It took two bursts before a section of the roof burst into flame.

Galya continued to
circle the building, her skylance at the ready.

In moments, the
entire upper section of the building was in flames. The Myrmidons of second
squad had stopped their bombardment and took over the patrol above the
building, while Galya returned and landed her pteridon on the cliff above
Dainyl, rejoining the rest of first squad.

Dainyl forced himself
to shift his attention back to the vitreous channel. “Another load of
brimstone!”

“Yes, sir.”

As he waited for the
black and gooey mess to slide and ooze down to him, Dainyl studied the
situation. Before long the rebels would have to leave the outbuilding, assuming
that any remained there. Once that was resolved, he could devote his full
energies to the tunnel complex below.

Despite the mounting
heat, both from the sun and from the fires below and behind his shields, the
brimstone coming down the channel was sluggish. Dainyl triggered the lance
briefly, targeting the section of the channel below the brimstone, and the
heated stone seemed to help, but it seemed to take forever before the first of
the black mass reached the lip of the channel.

Dainyl had to swallow
hard not to choke on the smoke that escaped as he shifted his shields to allow
all the brimstone past them and to fall, flaming, into the slit that had
widened under the impact of flame and shields. He still found himself coughing,
and close to choking, wishing for the slightest breeze to blow the noxious smoke
that had escaped his shields away from him.

There was no breeze,
and even the wingbeats of the pteridons of third squad, passing overhead on
their continuing efforts to seal the vents and slots of the complex, did not
generate enough movement of air to reach Dainyl.

With a rumbling
crunch, part of the roof on the naming building collapsed.

Within moments, two
figures in black and silver ran from the building. The first made it a good
hundred yards before being flamed by one of the Myrmidons from squad four—the
second less than fifty.

A lightflame flared
from the building, narrowly missing the second fourth squad pteridon as it
recovered from the attack on the fleeing rebels. The three circling fourth
squad Myrmidons all fired at the building. Because the main entry was on the
east side, blocked from Dainyl’s view, he couldn’t see exactly what happened.
He just heard the explosion and watched part of the east side of the redstone
building sag away from him.

He forced his
concentration back to the brimstone he was flaming and forcing downward into
the tunnel complex. He thought he sensed more deaths from the burning building,
but he continued his efforts to force the smoke and gases downward.

The stones of the
southwest corner of the redstone building crumbled, and then the rest of the
structure began to settle in upon itself. Three more rebel alectors ran from
the structure and were flamed down. Dainyl had the sense that there would not
be any more rebels emerging from the ruins.

He turned his full
attention back to forcing fire and brimstone into the tunnels. Before long,
black and gray smoke began to seep, then pour out of the main front entrance to
the cavern complex. Dainyl could not see the recessed archway directly, but the
increase in smoke suggested that someone had opened the main doors.

One of the squad four
pteridons swooped down, and the Myrmidon fired her lance into the entrance. The
amount of smoke decreased, but not entirely.

A line of light
flashed up from the entrance to the cavern section of the complex, but by the
time one of the Myrmidons from fourth squad reacted, the weapon had been
retracted well inside the stone archway.

“What’s in the
channel is all that there is, sir!” called Galya from the clifftop.

“Thank you.”

Dainyl waited until
the last of the tallows and oils flowed past him, and he eased them through his
shields and let them drop, flaming, into the holocaust he sensed building in
the rock-walled tunnels below.

Then he finally
released his shields, thankful he had not been required to use all his
abilities and strength there, took his lance, and began to climb back up the
rocky incline to where his pteridon waited.

Galya greeted him as
he paused at the top.

“You look hot, sir.”

“It is hot down
there.” He glanced to Hyksant. “We’re going down. Now!”

“Yes, sir!”

Dainyl mounted the
pteridon, checked everything, then raised his arm. “Lift off.”

“First squad, lift
off. Follow the submarshal!”

Dainyl concentrated.
Down ... as close to the cliff as possible . . . north of the entrance . . .
The pteridon banked and then swept down, heading southward, then flaring, and
coming to a halt less than twenty yards north of the entrance from where smoke
seeped into the noon sky.

Dainyl vaulted down
to the sandy ground, skylance in hand, and hurried forward to the corner of the
cliff, just short of the recessed archway cut into the stone. There he waited
for the remainder of first squad to rejoin him.

Galya appeared next,
then Hyksant, and the other two.

“You need to use the
lances sparingly, and against anyone you can.” He added quickly, “Without
hitting me.”

Skylance in hand, he
rushed” around the corner, triggering the lance at the doorway at the end of
the short tunnel.

A blast of Talent
energy sheeted around him, blocked by his shields. He triggered the skylance
for a second brief burst, and then a third, moving forward toward the
Talent-shielded doorway that was half-ajar and from behind which gouts of
brimstone smoke intermittently puffed and then died away, before streaming out
again.

Another burst of
Talent energy, not quite so strong as the previous blast, smashed at him, the
impact on his shields slowing him. He fired again, trying to use his Talent to
bend the energy around the corner. He sensed another death and fired again,
this time with his sidearm, using the same technique.

A figure jumped to
one side, holding a silvery dagger that Dainyl recognized too well. Two
skylance blasts flared past Dainyl and converged on the rebel. The ancient
sword-lance fell to the stones.

Dainyl crashed into the
door full-strength, forcing it back.

More lightbeams
flared back and forth, and Dainyl felt a Myrmidon behind him die.

He fired his sidearm
again, and for a moment, there was stillness. He could sense no one nearby and
slipped past the open door in to the entry hall, not more than five yards
square behind the door. It was empty. Several separate piles of silver and
black alector’s uniforms and boots lay scattered across the stones.

The stench of
brimstone was almost unbearable.

Dainyl smiled coldly,
then used a set of partial screens to press the smoke and gas back down the
corridor. Behind his shields, he moved forward, but he no longer sensed anyone
nearby.

The huge hall or
meeting room to his right was empty, filled with the remnants of brimstone and smoke.
Silver and black tunics, boots and clothes lay everywhere.

Dainyl halted, then
turned to Hyksant. “I don’t think there’s anyone left, but take the rest of the
squad and check. Be careful.”

“Yes, sir.” The
faintest smile crossed the undercaptain’s lips.

“Don’t say it,”
Dainyl said, knowing what Hyksant was doubtless thinking about a submarshal who
led a charge against a half-fortified entrance. The only problem was that only
Dainyl had shields strong enough to do it. Still, if someone hadn’t flamed dithe
rebel with the sword-lance...

He turned quickly and
headed back to the entry area. The ancient weapon lay against the stones on one
side of the outer entry tunnel. He picked it up carefully, sensing the cruel
power in it, a hunger for... what? The lifeforce of alectors?

Should he keep it? He
shook his head. Every alector who had tried to use it was dead. Dainyl didn’t
care for those odds.

“What is it?”

Galya’s words roused
him from his consideration.

“A deadly ancient
weapon. Find somewhere to tuck it away for now. Better yet, bury it, and don’t
tell anyone where. Even the slightest cut can be fatal to an alector, including
whoever carries it.” He set the weapon on the waist-high narrow stone ledge, a
stone wainscoting. “Wrap it in something, too.” He paused. “I thought...”

“The undercaptain
detailed me to you, sir.”

Dainyl started to
nod, then caught sight of an alcove just inside and partly hidden by the door
he had earlier forced. He stepped forward and eased the door away from the
stone. Just inside the alcove were two of the lightcannon, sitting on small
handcarts.