Legacies (54 page)

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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

BOOK: Legacies
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“Anslym, you get saddled, too. I've got a task for you when you're ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

That left six men. Alucius stood with then, scanning the quiet courtyard with both eyes and Talent, but nothing moved.

Before long, the green troopers of Zerdial's group—a militia-sized squad, overlarge for a Matrite squad—were leading their mounts forward.

“Zerdial, take over guarding here.”

Alucius reclaimed Wildebeast, then returned to the front of the stable where the stable boy had brought forth the packhorses. He pointed to two of the troopers who stood by their mounts and who felt solid. “You two, each of you take a packhorse and follow me. Mount up outside.”

He turned, relieved to see Anslym returning with his mount. “Anslym?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I'm going to ask you to take two men and the other two packhorses back to the armory. Get a few more rifles, but mostly ammunition, and load them. Don't skimp, but don't overload them, either. I left the armory unlocked. Can you do that?”

Anslym nodded.

Alucius looked at him coldly.

“Yes, sir,” the trainee said quickly.

“Good. Load them and bring them back here. We're going for stores.”

The small stores room was off the side of the armory, and one of Jesorak's keys worked there, as well. If it hadn't, the lock was so flimsy Alucius probably could have pried it loose, but the key was quieter.

The ration packs in stores held food far less appealing than the normal Matrite fare, if still good and edible—dried meat, rubbery dried fruit, white cheese that could have substituted for building stones. But they were accessible without going back into the training center—and they were packed to travel.

Alucius made it back to the stables before Anslym did with the spare ammunition and rifles, and he waited, mounted, nervously scanning the courtyard, wondering why he had seen no more troopers or sentries.

Something moved to the south, and he had the rifle aimed before he realized that it was Anslym.

“Any problems?” Alucius asked.

“No, sir.”

Alucius eased Wildebeast to the outside front of the stables. “Get out here and mount up. Quiet as you can.”

The sounds of hoofs on the stones, and occasional grunts and whispers sounded like thunder to Alucius, and he kept scanning the courtyard, still quiet, even after both his makeshift squads were mounted.

Once everyone seemed there and mounted, he eased Wildebeast out to the head of the rough column, then turned to look back as he ordered, “Column forward.” A wave of dizziness swept over him, and he had to struggle to remain erect in the saddle. He was exhausted, but there was no time for resting.

The last man had actually ridden out of the gates and the entire column was moving northward toward the river road that would lead to the north-south high road, before Alucius could sense movement in the courtyard.

Why had it taken so long? He'd fully expected to have had to fire at least some shots—or had some fired at them.

Suddenly, he smiled. First, along the way, he'd taken out most of the sentries, one by one. And second, most troopers had learned not to question too much so long as things looked normal. No one had been running around or yelling or shooting. Perhaps the trainees had looked awkward, but they'd done what troopers did, and that seemed to have been enough.

Still…they had a long, long way to ride, with minimal supplies and no grain for their mounts, and no coin. Through the intermittent waves of dizziness that washed over him, Alucius studied the road ahead, the eternastone glow even more pronounced to him than ever before, despite the faint stars that flashed across his vision, stars that reminded him of how little rest he had had, and of how much he had asked of his body.

Was the greater glow of the ancient stones because he was more accomplished with his Talent, or because of what he had done in the underground chamber?

He kept turning his head and checking, but no one followed, not that he could see or sense, but he did not relax, even after the two close-to-militia-sized squads turned westward on the river levee high road, and then northward on the north-south high road. In the darkness, not surprisingly, they saw no one.

Once they were almost at the north end of the bridge crossing the River Vedra, a swath of darkness beneath the white eternastone of the high road, Alucius turned in the saddle and looked back at Hieron.

Even with his Talent-sense, there was no sign of the pink threads, the web that had centered on the Matrial's residence, and the deeper life web that filled the sky seemed a little brighter, a little more colorful. Was it? Or was he hoping it was? Or was it because it wasn't washed out by the garish purple-pink. He didn't know. He also hoped that the disappearance of the Matrial would add to the consternation and confusion more than proof of her death would have.

He turned and looked at the enternastone road ahead. They had a long journey ahead, and he was making it with largely untested troopers. He stifled a yawn. He had to stay awake for a time longer. He just had to. He steadied himself by putting one hand on the front rim of the saddle.

118
Northeast of Iron Stem, Iron Valleys

In the late evening, Royalt looked at the stove, cold and unneeded in summer, then at the two women on the couch to his right. Abruptly, he stood and, without a word, walked toward the front door.

Behind him, the two women exchanged glances.

“He's been like that every since he brought the flock in,” Lucenda murmured.

Royalt ignored the statement and stepped out onto the wide porch that faced east.

For a long time, he stood at the railing and looked into the night at the dark mass to the east that was the Aerlal Plateau. Then he went down the stone steps and walked south until he was clear of the house. There, he turned west and studied the stars, still without speaking.

In time, he returned to the porch.

Wendra and Lucenda stood there waiting. Neither spoke.

“Something's happened,” he said slowly. “I felt it at midday, and it's still there.”

“Are you all right, Father?” asked Lucenda.

Royalt laughed softly. “It's not me, daughter. The world's changed, and I don't know how, or what that change is, only that it's happened. There was a flash in my wristguard, pinkishlike, so bright it shone through my tunic. Then it was gone. I'd like to think it's something to do with Alucius, something good. I don't know. I thought, if I came outside, in the quiet, I'd learn or feel something.” He shook his head slowly. “It's the same as earlier. It's different, and I don't know how.”

“What about Alucius?” asked Wendra.

“How is it different? Can you even say how it feels?” pressed Lucenda, her words tumbling over those of Wendra.

Royalt turned to Wendra. “He's still alive and well. Beyond that…I cannot say.” Then he looked at his daughter. “It's as if an unseen darkness had been lifted, a darkness none of us knew was there.”

“An unseen darkness? It's a Talent thing?”

“More than that, I feel.” He fingered his chin. “Tomorrow, I may ride over to see Kustyl and see if he felt what I did.”

“Are you sure…I mean…”

“You're worried about the dark ties. No…this is different.” Royalt smiled, an expression that was simultaneously hopeful, wistful, and worried. “This is different. The dark ties are stronger, and yet not so heavy, either, but that is not it. Not at all.”

Lucenda and Wendra exchanged glances.

Royalt looked back at the darkness of the plateau, again, without speaking.

119

In the gray light just before dawn, Alucius studied the all-too-casual bivouac.

He'd had the men ride only three glasses the night before, a time sufficient to take them across the River Vedra and far enough north that they could find a place to make camp in the wooded hills leading to the pass through the Coast Range without getting too far off the high road. And, he had to admit, that had been as far as he could have gone without falling out of the saddle. At the end, he'd been holding on to the saddle rim with one hand all the time. After a short night's sleep, he didn't feel that much better.

“All right! Form up on foot!” He projected both voice and Talent-backed authority. “With your sabres!”

He stood quietly until he had the two squads in formation—a decent formation, if not outstanding. Then he spoke. “We're going to have to fight. We can't spend as much time training as I'd like. But we will go through sabre blade exercises every morning, and we will practice wheeling to a firing line a few times every morning. That practice just might save your life.

“We have to travel four hundred odd vingts to reach the border, and that's by the high road. Do you want to get slaughtered on the way? Or to be, if you're lucky, one of a handful to slink home? Or do you want to be able to get there with the fewest casualties and with your heads held high?” His eyes raked across the trooper trainees. “If there's any one of you who thinks he can do a better job…just step forward.”

No one did.

He paused. “All right. You've got a quarter glass to eat—if you want to. That ration pack has to last you all day. Then we'll start the sabre exercises on foot. After that, we'll mount and do a series of wheeling maneuvers, and then we'll get on the road. Dismissed.”

“…still a friggin' squad leader…”

“…quit flapping your jaw…”

“…want to go home?”

Alucius repressed a sigh.

He hoped that they could make good time on the road, but he knew that, before long, he'd have to find either better forage, or grain, or both for their mounts. All the time now, they'd have to watch for messengers and trained Matrite companies out to stop them.

He did sigh, then.

120

In the late afternoon of the second full day of their ride north from Hieron, Alucius could tell that both mounts and men were tiring. They had passed only two traders' wagons, both headed southward, and neither trader—one a woman and the other a man, seemingly a Deforyan, with his red jacket—had done more than nod at the troopers. Was Deforya the only outside land that traded in Madrien? Alucius still didn't understand all the trading rules, but he knew that the reasons existed—somewhere. Just as he still didn't understand why the sprite and the soarers had helped him, but knew they had their reasons. Was it just because he had been the only one to destroy the pink-purple crystal? Would he ever see another soarer, except from a distance?

Because he needed to concentrate on the tasks at hand, he pushed the thoughts away and looked at Zerdial, riding beside him. “We should be looking for some place near the road to stop. There should be a way station somewhere ahead, and, with luck, there won't be any troopers on the road right now.”

“Why do you want to stay on the high road, sir?” asked Zerdial. “Some of the men had wondered.”

“And they asked you to find out if their squad leader had a reason, or if I happened to be less than thinking?”

Zerdial looked down.

“Because it's the fastest way to get where we're going. Also, it's the fastest way for the Matrites to send a message or troopers. That's why we've been camping beside the road and setting guards. If they do send a messenger, we can stop him from getting word to any companies to the north. And we can travel faster, for a while anyway, than can any companies coming after us.”

Zerdial looked unconvinced.

Alucius smiled. “Zerdial…what do you think is happening in Hieron and elsewhere in Madrien?”

“Happening?”

“For more than a hundred years, men in Madrien have worn those torques. They've had to do what the women with the control belts wanted. Do you think that an arms commander is going to risk sending a company of troopers out of Hieron after us right now?”

“Then why do we have to worry at all?”

“There's something called the auxiliaries. They're mostly women, and they're all trained, and some of them are very, very good. I saw them wipe out five companies of Southern Guards. They won't know that we're coming—unless a messenger gets in front of us. While the Matrite officers probably won't risk sending a regular company out of Hieron after us, it won't be long before they will risk sending a messenger. And that message will tell the auxiliaries and companies stationed on the northeastern borders that we're deserters. We don't need to face that, or any forces that we can avoid. When we get to Arwyn, we're going to have to go through there late at night, and quickly. Then, we'll only have to worry about whatever forces they have set up as perimeter guards. Near the Westerhills.”

“Perimeter guards? I thought the Matrites were in the Iron Valleys, weren't they?”

“There were so many attacks in the south that they had to pull back,” Alucius said. “They pulled out of the Iron Valleys, for now, anyway. Since the torques don't work, it will be a while before they attack again, but I wouldn't count on it being more than a few years.”

“But you said…” Zerdial's voice contained more than a little confusion.

“Right now, there will be a lot of confusion, and some men will probably try to even things with women who have been overzealous. But the fact is that life isn't bad for most people in Madrien, and when everything settles down, I don't know that much will change. I could be wrong, but I think that in time the Iron Valleys will have exactly the same problems we had two years ago—enemies to the west and enemies to the south. The ones to the south may be more dangerous, but you can never tell.”

Alucius smiled. “Whatever may happen, right now, we need to find a place to stop. Send out a couple of your best scouts to replace the ones there now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alucius nodded in response. The first two days had not been bad, but the next ones were likely to be more difficult.

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