Legacies (48 page)

After seeing to Wildebeast, Alucius spent almost a glass in the northwest corner of the empty mess hall briefing Daafl, who'd been promoted to junior squad leader and moved from seventh squad to take over second squad. That taken care of, Alucius headed for the squad leaders' wing of the barracks, and then to the bay housing the squad leaders of the Fortieth Company and, more recently, those of the Twelfth Company. He needed to pick up his gear and move it to the visiting squad leaders' bay so that Daafl would have a bunk with the other Fortieth Company squad leaders.

As Alucius entered the bay, he saw Pahl and Brekka sitting on stools on each side of a footchest that held Pahl's leschec board.

They both looked up.

“Leaving tomorrow?” asked Pahl.

“Right after breakfast. Escorting the wounded stipended-outs and empty wagons back to Hieron. We're also taking some broken rifles and salvaged Lanachronan gear to the armory at Salcer.”

“They tell you more about where you'll be posted?” Brekka grinned as if he already knew the answer.

“Do they tell anyone anything until it happens?” Alucius countered ruefully.

“Well…if you're going to act like a senior squad leader, maybe they figured they'd better make you one,” Brekka suggested.

“I'm only a full squad leader. That means either an assistant senior squad leader in a company or something like being in charge of a messenger post or detail. Or something else I've never heard of. Just as it finally gets quiet here.”

“That won't last,” Pahl predicted. “A month, two at the most, and the easterners will be back. They don't know when to quit.” He smiled. “You may be back by then, too, with another company. They need fighting leaders.”

Alucius shrugged. “Anything's possible.” That he'd already learned. “I need to move my gear, and then find Captain Gerayn.”

“What squads are going with you?”

“They've two put together with about a third of what was left of Twenty-fourth Company. The overcaptain shifted the others into Twentieth Company.”

“They took a real beating,” Pahl pointed out.

“Almost as bad as Fortieth Company,” suggested Brekka.

Pahl ignored the comment and looked at the leschec board. “Do you really want to move your lesser alector there?”

“You're bluffing,” Brekka said with a laugh.

Alucius moved away, heading toward his bunk and footchest to pack his gear in his saddle duffel.

Behind him, he could pick up the murmurs the two leschec players thought were low enough that he would not hear.

“There's…something about him…Get the feeling that, cold as he is, if he's leading you, he'd take a blade or bullet for you.”

“…thought he did…once or twice…”

Cold? Alucius had never thought of himself as cold. He tried to be thoughtful, but cold?

“…seen it happen…saw some easterner slash at his arm, so hard. Blade shattered…”

“…nightsilk…you think?”

“…doesn't matter…sorry to see him go. Get a squad leader like that, and they send him somewhere else…talk about Zalt being important…only an overcaptain and they send away the good ones? Doesn't make sense.”

Alucius had the same feeling, except that he learned that some things that seemed to make little sense were senseless only from his point of view, not necessarily from someone else's perspective.

After three days, the convoy had passed Dimor and left the south branch of the River Lud, which wound more to the northwest before returning to a course largely parallel to the north-south high road. By midafternoon, the day had become hot enough that Alucius was sweating and had gone through two water bottles, despite the high hazy clouds that had turned the silver-green summer sky more silvery than green.

Captain Gerayn was the only officer with the convoy, and she and Alucius ended up riding beside each other more often than not.

“You were a junior squad leader for less than half a year, were you not? Before being promoted, I meant,” asked the round-faced tariff officer, brushing back one of the wisps of brown hair from her face.

“Yes, sir.”

“Overcaptain Catryn said that you have an excellent sense of the field, even in the fog of battle.” Gerayn looked ahead at the road, as if she were just making conversation.

“I just tried to keep track of who was attacking where and how many troopers I had and where.” Alucius tried to sound modest. He remained wary of the tariff officer, because she had traces of Talent, and he had to wonder if part of her job was to provide information for whatever screening he might be subjected to when he reached Hieron.

“I'm told that can be difficult in a battle.”

“It is,” Alucius replied, “but if you don't know where your troopers are, how can you lead them?”

“Undercaptain Taniti said that you could use a sabre with either hand.”

“I'm far better with my left,” Alucius demurred.

Gerayn laughed. “Do you always qualify everything good that someone says about you?”

“Probably, sir. There are always those who are better. At least, that's what I've found.” And no matter how good he might be, Alucius had already learned that sometimes it didn't matter. That had been how he'd been captured, and his handling of the Fortieth Company had been unnecessarily foolhardy because he hadn't realized that Overcaptain Catryn had been a better tactician than Alucius had ever thought.

“Most people as young as you are haven't learned that,” Gerayn observed.

“They probably would have if they'd been where I've been,” Alucius suggested. “Having other troopers trying to kill you does sharpen your reflexes and wits.”

“I wonder.” Gerayn fingered her chin. “You speak Madrien now as if you were born to it. How did you manage that?”

“I listened, sir.” All the time and very carefully, he reflected, knowing that, even so, listening wasn't really the total answer. Before she could ask another question, he spoke. “You're a tariff officer, sir, and that one time when I was in charge of a squad that escorted you, you spoke of the seltyrs of Southgate. Could you tell me more?”

“We certainly have time,” she replied with a smile. “Where should I begin? Perhaps with what has happened most recently.” The captain cleared her throat. “Seltyr Benjir is the most powerful of the seltyrs who rule Southgate. The seltyrs are the heads of the ten or so most powerful families. Most of their power lies in their trading networks, and their ships. They also all have their own fighting companies, loyal to the individual seltyr, and not to Southgate. Seltyr Benjir is a very shrewd man. He understands that if Southgate falls to the Lord-Protector, most of the seltyr families will have to flee, probably to Dramur, where they will be heavily tariffed until they lose much of their remaining power. If they do not flee, they could lose both lives and property. On the other hand, if Madrien takes Southgate, only a handful will lose their lives, but all will lose their power and property, especially their power over women. And if Dramur should invade and capture the city, then over time, quietly but surely, they will lose lives, property, and power. So the seltyr has been playing Dramur against Lanachrona for years.”

“And not Madrien?” Alucius let skepticism creep into his voice.

Gerayn laughed. “Once or twice, he has suggested to the Matrial that it would be more in her interest to have Southgate independent than controlled by either Dramur or the Lord-Protector.”

“Which would be worse? For Madrien?”

Gerayn shrugged. “Dramur would harm Madrien less, but the women in Southgate would suffer even more than they do now.”

Alucius recalled Hassai, and the cooper's wife who had fled Southgate, as well as some of the other merchants in the marketplace at Zalt. And Dramur would be worse?

“Is Seltyr Benjir old?”

“He is not a young man, but he has a good ten or fifteen years of vigorous life ahead of him, or so I have been told. As seltyrs go, he is more fair than most, and that angers many. There have been several attempts on his life.”

“Because he is fair?”

“No one really wants fairness, squad leader. Those who have little want more, and they claim that it is right and fair that they should. Those who have much claim that their prosperity and power come from their abilities, and that also is fair. Those who would be even-handed anger both those who have little and those who have much.”

Alucius decided against asking whether Gerayn thought the Matrial was fair. “I suppose it's always been that way. Does that mean that some of the seltyrs would support Dramur or Lanachrona?”

“There is one who comes from a Dramuran family, and who might prosper under Dramuran rule, but the rest would fall quickly. None would do well under the Lord-Protector, but they all fear each other, almost as much as outsiders.”

Southgate sounded worse than Madrien or Lanachrona, but then, what he heard came from a Matrite woman officer. Still…women fled Southgate, and they did not flee Madrien, from what Alucius knew. He almost snorted, considering that men could not flee Madrien, not without almost certain death.

“You look amused, squad leader.” Gerayn leaned back in the saddle for a moment.

“Surprised, and not surprised. You make it sound as though the seltyrs all know that they are doomed, and yet they will do nothing to change.”

“No one who has power will give it up easily,” Gerayn pointed out. “Even you would rather be a squad leader than a trooper, would you not?”

Alucius laughed, although he would far rather have been a herder than either, and he wanted the herding way of life to last, although he worried that it might not, caught as the Iron Valleys seemed to be between Lanachrona and Madrien.

“So are the seltyrs any different?” asked the tariff officer.

Alucius didn't answer the question. It needed no answer. But Gerayn had given him another answer as well.

In cool night air, three figures looked eastward, watching as Selena rose over the rim of the Aerlal Plateau. Once the full orb of the moon cleared the plateau, Royalt turned to face the wooden platform, set on a low rise west of the stone dwelling of the stead. The two women followed his example.

The herder said nothing. He squared his shoulders and faced the platform and the body that lay upon it.

Abruptly, a spike of light flared from the platform, a beam that fluoresced both black and green, yet not mixed, nor of either color alone.

Royalt's eyes followed the light. Then the light spear vanished—as had the figure and the platform upon which she had been placed.

For a long moment, Royalt remained looking, before he lowered his head. His rugged frame shook for a moment before he finally straightened.

The open lands remained silent, as if even the endless wind had ceased in recognition of what had occurred.

After a time, the younger woman looked to Lucenda. “She hung on for so much longer than…” Wendra's voice broke.

“I'm glad you've been here,” Lucenda said. “You'll be able to tell Alucius. When he returns. One way or another, he'll return to you.”

“You keep saying that he's alive. How do you…how can…?” Wendra shook her head.

“Herders can tell.” Royalt's eyes dropped to the silver wristguard with the seamless line of shimmering black crystal that circled it.

“The wristguard?” Wendra asked.

“That and Talent.”

“Why doesn't Alucius have a wristguard?”

“He does,” Royalt replied. “It's in the house, along with the ring.”

Lucenda raised her eyebrows.

“She should know,” Royalt said, before turning back to the younger woman. “A herder and his wife are linked in more ways than one, and the longer they're together, the stronger that bond is, and it extends in a lesser way to children and grandchildren. That's why Veryl hung on for so very long, until she knew Alucius would be coming home soon.”

“He is?” Wendra asked. “He is? How…?”

“It won't be that soon, but he will, one way or another.”

This time, Wendra shivered, understanding all that the words meant.

Royalt smiled faintly. “I'll see you two in the house. I need to check the lambing shed.”

With those words he was gone, leaving Lucenda and Wendra standing on the empty rise.

Wendra swallowed, realizing all of the implications of the older man's words, and she turned to Lucenda. “How long…?”

“He's strong, Wendra. It could be two years, three, perhaps longer, but in the end the dark ties will not be denied.”

“But you?”

“Ellus was not a herder born, and neither was I, for all that I am the children of herders, and we did not have that long together. Yet we had long enough that I would have no other. It happens that way, sometimes.” Lucenda turned away from the younger woman. “We should head back to the kitchen. Father would like some hot cider. He won't ask, but he'd like it.”

Slowly, Wendra followed Lucenda, back toward the lights of the stead house.

Salcer was less than a half day away at the pace the convoy was making, but Alucius felt impatient, as if he were being pushed, or told to keep moving. Yet no one had said anything, and it was just past midmorning, which meant that they would make Salcer well ahead of schedule.

Was it that he knew he had to find a way to escape? He almost shook his head. He could have escaped weeks before—except that merely deserting and trying to find his way back to the Iron Valleys was no answer, not when both lands well might regard him as a deserter. And he certainly didn't want to become a mercenary for the Lanachronans, which was the only task besides herding in which he had skills others would pay for. He had to find a better way—and he didn't have that much time left, he feared. Every time he looked at the green scarf, now in his saddlebags, he was reminded.

As he pondered, Alucius leaned forward in the saddle and studied the eternastone high road ahead. In the distance to the north, he could barely make out the shape of a southbound resupply convoy, with several companies of troopers, headed toward them. The road patrol he had sent out had not reported back to confirm that the convoy was Matrite, but the grayness Alucius sensed with his Talent told him that the troopers had to be Matrite, not that he expected anything else so close to Salcer.

“Those must be the reinforcements for Zalt,” suggested Captain Gerayn, riding to the left of Alucius.

“They may well be, sir. I can see wagons as well, and one looks overlarge.”

“If they have supplies, so much the better. They'll need more after harvest, with all the damage to the fields.”

Before a quarter glass had passed, one of the road patrol troopers rode back southward. In time, he reached Alucius and the captain, and swung his mount alongside Alucius.

“Captain, squad leader, sirs, the captain of the convoy requests the right of way. She has an overlarge and heavy wagon.” The trooper inclined his head to Gerayn, then to Alucius.

“She shall have it,” Gerayn affirmed.

Alucius studied the road and the shoulder ahead. From what he could see, the shoulder was broader and more firm close to a vingt ahead where the roadbed was level with the crest of a gentle rise. “I'd suggest that we pull over on the shoulder by that rise ahead, sir.”

“That would be good, squad leader. Order it.” Gerayn turned to the patrol trooper. “Tell the convoy captain that we will be pulling over ahead there on the rise.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once the trooper had turned and was riding back northward, Alucius swung Wildebeast back south. First, he told the squad immediately following, “We'll be pulling over and taking a break on the shoulder on the right side where the road and rise meet, about a vingt ahead.”

“Yes, sir,” replied the junior squad leader.

Alucius continued riding southward, informing the wagon drivers, and then the squad following the wagons, before turning and returning on the left side of the road to rejoin Gerayn.

When they reached the rise, Alucius turned Wildebeast to face those following him. “Onto the shoulder, and stand down. Forward squad, you may dismount and stretch your legs.” Later, he'd have them remount, and let the rear squad dismount.

Once the entire short convoy was on the shoulder, he dismounted, then took a long swallow of water, and watched. The captain dismounted, but did not bother with drinking any water, but then, Alucius reflected, she was a southerner.

When the southbound convoy was a half vingt to the north, Alucius remounted, as did Gerayn.

“Forward squad, remount!” After that order, he rode past the three wagons and gave the command for the rear squad to stand down.

Then he rode forward and waited with the captain. A full company of horse led the column heading southward, with a vanguard of one squad, followed by an undercaptain and a senior squad leader, then by the remaining nine squads.

The undercaptain inclined her head to Gerayn as she rode past. “Captain.”

“Undercaptain.”

Behind the squads rolled a six-wheeled wagon with the oversized axles, rumbling over the eternastones toward them. Although a worn black tarpaulin covered what was in the bed of the wagon, the brown uniform of the man sitting beside the driver and the shape of the load told Alucius what the cargo might be.

He turned to Gerayn. “If you would excuse me for a moment to greet an old acquaintance?”

An expression between amusement and curiosity crossed the captain's face, but she nodded.

Alucius eased Wildebeast forward toward the oversized wagon, then swung his mount to ride beside the engineer, who looked up, startled.

“Engineer Hyalas?” Alucius was surprised that he had remembered the man's name. He was also surprised at the apparent vividness and strength of the purple-tinged pink Talent thread that seemed to flow northward from the engineer's torque.

“Yes?” Hyalas's voice was wary.

“Squad Leader Alucius, sir.” Alucius gestured toward the huge six-wheeled wagon. “Is that the rebuilt crystal-spear thrower?”

“What do you know about that?” Hyalas's eyebrows lifted, and he seemed more curious than offended.

“Once I helped you transfer the parts after the time when it exploded in the north.”

“Oh…” Hyalas nodded. “This is a better version. The Southern Guards will find that out.”

“That's good.” Alucius had thought about asking why the device wasn't headed northward and decided against it. “The companies in Zalt could use some help, sir.”

“You came from there, I take it?”

“Yes, sir.” Alucius turned and nodded to the captain who rode up. “Captain, sir.”

“Why are you here, squad leader?”

“I'd helped the engineer before, captain, and I'd just wanted to tell him how welcome his work would be.”

“You've told him, I take it?”

“Yes, sir.” Alucius nodded, and eased his mount onto the shoulder.

He watched as the unknown captain rode over to Gerayn, spoke briefly, and then rejoined the resupply convoy.

After five standard-sized supply wagons passed, and then the last of the additional two horse companies, Alucius rode back to join Gerayn.

“You knew the engineer?” asked Captain Gerayn. “I hope you did, because I told Captain Ulayn that.”

“I'd done work for him, sir,” Alucius admitted.

The captain laughed. “As a captive, I'd wager.”

“Yes, sir.” Alucius let himself grin.

She shook her head. “You're a dangerous man, squad leader.”

Not so dangerous as he needed to become. That was clear. Alucius feared that he was far from dangerous enough, but so long as he was not thought that dangerous, unlike the unfortunate engineer, that might be an advantage.

He hoped so. He also hoped he could discover why he suddenly felt that his time was so short—and that he could do something about it.