Soarers Choice (12 page)

“You
look weary, dearest.” Those had been Lystrana’s first words to him.

That
was one way of looking at it. Exhausted, furious, and frustrated at having to
explain what should have been obvious was another. He could see her own
tiredness, however, and he smiled. “I think you had a day every bit as long as
mine. I’m sorry I’m late.”

“We
should eat.”

He
offered Lystrana his arm, and they walked to the dining room, where Sentya and
Zistele were already bringing out the platters. The meal was chiafra —
mint-minced beef mixed with creamed white cheese and parsley, rolled in thin
pastry tubes and covered with a rich brown sauce — accompanied by steamed snap
beans and heavy sweet brown bread.

Dainyl
had a second helping, not realizing that he was so hungry because he’d had
nothing to eat since his early breakfast.

Lystrana
ate more sparingly, looking up after a time. “How long will the rain continue?”

“The
dispatch fliers say that the skies to the west of the bay are clearing, but
that there’s snow on the higher reaches of the Coast Range peaks to the north.
The ice is beginning to close in on Blackstear.”

“An
early winter, then.”

“In
the north, it would seem. It’s warmer than usual in Soupat and Southgate.”
Dainyl finished the last of his bread and looked toward the kitchen. “Sentya,
Zistele ... it was a wonderful supper. Thank you.”

“It
was the alectress’s recipe, sir.”

“We
just followed it.”

Dainyl
smiled at the murmured demurrals from the kitchen. “It was still excellent.”
‘Thank you, sir.”

After
the girls had cleaned up the supper and retired, Dainyl and Lystrana settled
into the front room with the two corner chairs.

“You
still look tired, Dainyl. What happened?”

He
leaned back in the chair and took a small sip of the Vyan Grande brandy. “You
first.”

Lystrana
put her feet on the stool. “Chembryt’s worried. Tariff collections are falling
off, and they shouldn’t be. We need more golds, not less. The engineers need
more materials and more fabricators. The Myrmidons have built one new compound
and enlarged another, and there are two new Cadmian compounds, one completed
and the other under construction. Those don’t include the costs of the repairs
at Hyalt or Tempre. Or the need for more guards for the Tables by all the
Recorders of Deeds.”

“Why
are tariffs falling off?”

“Most
of the tariffs are assessed on goods being produced for sale. People —
especially the landers and indigens — aren’t buying as much. And prices for
coal and coke and iron are higher because of the problems at Iron Stem, and
that means fewer people are buying iron, except for the engineers, and they’re
buying more, which costs the Duarches exactly at a time when we have less
revenue.”

“Maybe
people are worried. People don’t buy nearly so much when they are.”

“Why
would the landers and indigens be worried?” she asked. ‘Tempre is the only city
where there have been real problems, and what you did didn’t affect anyone
except a handful of alectors. Hyalt’s too small to make a difference.”

“It
could be that they feel that trouble is ahead.” He paused. “What else?”

“Chembryt
got a message from Ruvryn. He destroyed it. He only said that the High Alector
of Engineering was acting as if he were the Duarch, rather than a subordinate
who served at the Duarches’ pleasure. Then he asked me to draft a polite note
to Ruvryn for him to sign. The note said that, unfortunately, even the High
Alector of Finance could not create golds by fiat, not without ruining the
patterns of trade and commerce, and that any decision to raise tariffs would
have to be approved by both Duarches.”

“Someone’s
pressing Ruvryn to fabricate additional equipment.”

“It
sounds that way.” Lystrana sighed.

“Oh
... I have more bad news. Have you heard that a cliff or something fell into
Lake Vergen and created a surge downstream that wiped out the high road bridge
in the South Pass — and that part of the high road to Lustrea is likely to be
closed for months?”

“Why
now?” She shook her head. “That will only make matters worse.”

“Is
there that much trade that travels that far?”

“Not
that much. It’s generally unique goods, but they do bring in good tariffs.
We’ll lose many of those, or receive them later, and that’s in addition to the
repair expenses ... on top of everything else.” She forced a smile. “That was
my cheerful day. What about yours?”

“Interestingly
enough, mine also began with a request from Ruvryn.” Dainyl smiled wryly.

Even
in the dim light, Lystrana caught his expression, and a smile of ironic
bemusement crossed her lips.

“He
demanded three pteridon squads for a full week, to transport more than three
tonnes of equipment, material, and engineers from Ludar and Faitel to Tempre
and Hyalt — to repair the Tables in both places. That will require something
like between thirty-five and fifty round-trip flights. It also means burning a
great deal of lifeforce. If we use First Company, it means leaving no Myrmidons
to speak of in Elcien.”

“And?”

“I’m
going to have Seventh Company do most of it.”

“Is
that wise?”

“Well...
Seventh Company’s captain is Khelaryt’s youngest daughter. I don’t think Ruvryn
knows that.”

“I
didn’t know that,” Lystrana said.

“I
thought I told you. She was the one who brought up that Asyrk was senior,
because she wanted me to know that he was one of Alcyna’s plants from Ifryn.”

“That,
you did tell me, but not that she was his daughter.”

“I’m
sorry. I thought I had.”

“How
do you know she’s Khelaryt’s daughter?”

“By
what he revealed when I briefed him. Lyzetta got Asyrk — or someone — to write
him. She can’t because part of his shadowmatch conditioning — “

“
— blocks it. That’s why Captain Sevasya can’t contact him.” Lystrana shook her
head. “You didn’t know that when you gave her command of Seventh Company?”

“No.
I had no idea.”

“That
must have amused Khelaryt.”

“I
suppose so. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t even say she was his daughter.
He did acknowledge that she was of his heritage, and there is a resemblance.
The rest I could sense.”

“It
makes sense. Where else would they be safer?”

Dainyl
took another sip of the brandy.

“So
you minimized the danger from Ruvryn’s engineers — if they are indeed
engineers. What else happened?” asked Lystrana.

“I
had to go to Lyterna to see Asulet, and he warned me about the dangers of the
green, as if I didn’t have enough to worry about...” Dainyl recounted his visit
and his difficulties with the return translation. “... and I was in Dramur ...
and there’s no Table there.”

“Yes,
there was. Didn’t you say that there was an ancient mirror Table there? When
our Tables were blocked, you used theirs.”

“It
still bothers me — and just when I thought all that green Talent was fading,
I’ve got another dose of it, and Asulet tells me that I’m supposed to keep it
in check.”

“Dearest,
don’t complain ... You’re alive and well.”

“There’s
too much going on with the ancients — and with all the wild translations.”

“Ifryn
is coming apart, and it’s bleeding over into Acorus.”

“I
don’t understand why the Archon doesn’t move the Master Scepter before things
get even worse.”

“Maybe
he can’t for some reason.”

That
made sense. At least, Dainyl thought it did.

“Besides,”
added Lystrana morosely, “would you really want him to condemn all those on
Ifryn to die any sooner than absolutely necessary?”

“I
have to wonder about that. What would happen if he transferred the Master
Scepter earlier?”

“All
the Ifrits would die.”

“But
so long as some lifeforce remains, the indigens wouldn’t, would they?”

Lystrana
was silent for a moment. “A few might survive. For a while.”

Dainyl
looked down at his empty brandy snifter.

Dainyl
had barely looked over the morning muster reports from Captain Ghasylt on Tridi
morning when Wyalt knocked at his half-open study door.

“Another
urgent message, sir.” Wyalt appeared apologetic, his eyes not meeting Dainyl’s,
as he stepped into the study and handed the large envelope to the marshal.

“You
don’t have to look that concerned, Wyalt. You didn’t create the problem,
whatever it is.”

“No,
sir... I just... well, I’ve liked being part of First Company and
headquarters.”

“You’re
leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“Yes,
sir.”

“You’ll
do fine with Seventh Company. Captain Lyzetta is a good commanding officer. She
comes from a fine heritage, and she’s a solid Myrmidon officer. And you’ll get
to fly far sooner this way.”

At
that reminder, Wyalt smiled, if faintly. “I’d thought of that, sir.”

Dainyl
grinned. “Whoever your lady friend is, Tempre isn’t that impossibly far away,
and it’s likely that Seventh Company will be based there for a time.” That was
stretching matters, he realized, since Tempre was close to seven hundred
vingts. But considering that Dulka, where Seventh Company had been based, was
more than two thousand vingts in a straight flight, Wyalt’s lady love could at
least reach Tempre by sandox coach in a few days.

The
messenger flushed, if but briefly. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Dainyl
watched as Wyalt left. While he would have liked Wyalt to remain in Elcien,
with the shortage of Myrmidon fliers, especially in Seventh Company, Lyzetta
needed Wyalt as a new flier far more than Ghasylt and headquarters needed a
messenger and driver.

Finally
he opened the envelope. The dispatch inside was from Colonel Herolt, commander
of the Cadmian Mounted Rifle Regiment based at Northa, immediately east and
north of Elcien. Dainyl skimmed the salutations and concentrated on the body of
the dispatch.

Fourth
Battalion, commanded by Majer Hersiod, has been deployed to Iron
Ste.
and based out of the Cadmian compound there. The
battalion’s mission has been to provide support to the local Cadmian forces in
maintaining order at the iron and coal mines, and the ironworks. Battalion
patrols have also provided security against large local predators. Over the
past week, concentrated assaults by local Reillies and other irregulars,
possibly including disgruntled and disguised miners, have resulted in
casualties totaling more than half the battalion. These armed assaults occurred
in coincidence with an unprecedented series of attacks by giant sandwolves and
other creatures ... Majer Hersiod and two captains are among the fatalities ...

Dainyl
looked at the dispatch. Behind it, there was another report as well. He laid
aside the Fourth Battalion dispatch and began to read the second dispatch.

Three
companies of Fifth Battalion, commanded by Majer Druvyr, had pursued a Reillie
irregular company and backed them into an indefensible position at the base of
the northern cliffs of the Aerial Plateau some thirty vingts east of Eastice.
While the majer prepared for an attack, a section of the cliff broke away, and
both the Reillies and all three Cadmian companies and their officers were
annihilated by the mass of ice and rock. Two Fifth Battalion companies remain
largely intact. Twenty-third Company remains on station in Klamat, while
Twenty-sixth Company continues to patrol sections of the high road between
Klamat and Northport...

After
rereading both dispatches once more, Dainyl set them on the desk, then looked
out through the window at the empty stone flight stage in the courtyard.
According to Asulet, the recently rediscovered creatures, the nightsheep, while
somewhat dangerous, tended not to be aggressive unless attacked. The sandwolves
were dangerous, but not to a well-armed and prepared Cadmian force. Had the
attacks been accompanied by the other predator, the one that Asulet said had
only been glimpsed in the past?

If
so, why were all these attacks and strange occurrences happening now? They bore
the mark of the ancients, although Dainyl doubted there was any concrete proof
of that. If the ancients had been responsible, surely they knew that the
problems they had created were minor and would change nothing. Yet the ancient
who had spoken with Dainyl had been absolutely certain that unless any alector
changed, and linked directly to Acorus, he would perish.

He
looked down at the dispatches. There was little to be done, not immediately,
about Fifth Battalion. All companies of the battalion had been scheduled to be
withdrawn to their headquarters within weeks. Fourth Battalion was another
matter. More than ever, the Duarchy needed iron and coal.

Slowly,
he nodded.

Third
Battalion. If anyone could deal with the ancients, Majer Mykel could. And,
Dainyl told himself, that assignment would also keep the majer away from other
alectors. He pulled a sheet of paper toward him, then began to write the orders
to Colonel Herolt that would send the majer and his battalion to Iron Stem.

He
hadn’t quite finished when Wyalt reappeared, this time bearing a smaller
envelope.

“Sir...
it’s from the Highest.”

Dainyl
nodded. “If you’d set it on the desk, Wyalt, please.”

Dainyl
finished drafting the Cadmian orders before he lifted and opened the envelope.
The message inside was simple. He was to report to High Alector Zelyert no
later than a glass before noon. Somehow, that was typical of Zelyert. Either he
didn’t care what Dainyl was doing, or he knew Dainyl was at headquarters.

That
gave Dainyl a glass to hand off the Cadmian orders to Zernylta in order to have
copies made for dispatch to the colonel and to take the duty coach to the Hall
of Justice.