Soarers Choice (72 page)

Another
pteridon dived toward him ...

Dainyl
reacted... and kept reacting until, abruptly, there were but three remaining
black and silver pteridons. All three broke away simultaneously and flew
southward, trailed by four pteridons without fliers.

Dainyl
checked the distance — too far to catch them until they slowed for landing, and
that was likely to be in Ludar, two glasses later in the day.

After
slipping the skylance into its holder, he banked the pteridon and began to
search for any remaining officers. He did not see Ghasylt, but he did fly by
Undercaptain Ghanyr — if just high enough that the wing vortices did not
entangle — and called out, “Back to headquarters! Pass the word to First
Company!”

“Yes,
sir!” Ghanyr raised a hand in salute.

Dainyl
began to climb, looking for Fhentyl or another officer from Fifth Company.
Finally, he spotted the captain and winged into a bank, coming out beside
Fhentyl. “Return to headquarters!”

After
sensing the captain’s surprise, Dainyl realized that Fhentyl had not seen him
join the Myrmidons, but the captain nodded.

Dainyl
raised his arm in acknowledgment, then banked the pteridon back toward Elcien.

After
several moments, he glanced back over his shoulder. The remaining pteridons
were formed into two wedges, with two pteridons trailing. A quick count showed
thirty-one pteridons, one of them without a flier. Assuming that none of the
Seventh Squad pteridons guarding the Palace had been lost, the three companies
had lost more than a third of their strength, and the attackers had lost all
but seven out of something more than thirty.

In
less than a season, the Myrmidons had lost almost half their pteridons ... and
for what?

Fires
raged across the fields and woods around where the ground forces and
lightcannon had been, and thick grayish white smoke, with thinner areas of
black, billowed skyward. Dainyl scanned the bay below, but there was no sign of
the vessel that had been a column of flame — except for a rough oval of
floating items and a slick spreading across the gray-blue waters.

After
another quarter glass, as he neared the channel south of Elcien, ahead, he
could see the nine pteridons from Seventh Company still circling the Palace. He
altered course to intercept them. When he neared the Palace, he looked past it
toward the Hall of Justice — still enshrouded in the slimy purple
Talent-miasma. He kept his shields up, just in case one of the Myrmidons might
fire, but while he could sense skylances leveled at him, no one fired as he eased
toward them, both hands held high.

He
finally eased the pteridon toward one of the undercaptains, coming close enough
so that their wings would have interlocked, had Dainyl not been higher and
slightly to the rear, in order to call out his orders. “Return to headquarters!
Pass the word!”

After
a moment, the undercaptain replied, “Return to headquarters! Yes, sir.”

Dainyl
banked back to the west and brought the pteridon down in a steep descent. He
swept in over the southern wall, flared, and let the pteridon settle onto the
flight stage. For a moment, he remained in the harness.

Alcyna
walked at a measured pace from the headquarters building, then stopped and
waited several yards from the raised stone platform.

Carefully,
Dainyl released the harness and dismounted, then took the steps down the flight
stage.

“You
were victorious, I take it.”

“Only
after a fashion. We lost something like twenty pteridons and Myrmidons. By my
count, they had Second and Third Companies. Three of them escaped. There were
another four pteridons without fliers.”

Alcyna
looked at Dainyl. “You can’t destroy a pteridon with a skylance. Did they shoot
down their own pteridons with lightcannon?”

Dainyl
swallowed. In the heat of the battle, he hadn’t even considered that. “No.
Well... it’s possible that they might have hit some of their own. They were
heavy lightcannon. Each one was powered by a wagon full of lifeforce crystals
...”

Alcyna’s
white face turned even more pale. “You destroyed almost twenty pteridons?”

“I
didn’t seem to have much choice. They were trying to destroy ours, and they had
light-rifles in the air and on the ground.” Dainyl stopped speaking and watched
as the pteridons that had followed him began to land, one after the other.

“Neither
of the Duarches will be happy.”

Dainyl
agreed with her on that. Anything that pleased Khelaryt certainly wouldn’t have
pleased Samist, and the reverse was certainly true. Since neither had totally
triumphed, neither would be pleased.

He
turned and walked across the courtyard, not that he really had anywhere to go
at the moment, not with the Table in the Hall of Justice pouring out a purple
miasma of deadly Talent, but he didn’t wish to note which faces were among the
missing, particularly those from First Company.

Inside,
the duty desk was held by Doselt, the administrative squad leader.

“Highest,
sir?”

“First,
Fifth, and Seventh Companies have returned. Casualties were high. The marshal
will be able to fill you in.”

Dainyl
turned and walked down the corridor to the empty study that had been his when
he’d been submarshal. He left the door slightly ajar and sat down behind the
empty table desk.

He’d
tried to keep it all from coming to what had just happened. He’d warned
Shastylt. He’d warned Zelyert. He’d warned the Duarch and kept him informed.
He’d stopped Rhelyn and Fahylt. He’d kept more than half of the Myrmidons in
the east loyal. And what had Khelaryt done?

The
High Alector of Justice looked out the window in the direction of the Palace.

Some
time after Dainyl had entered the empty submarshal’s study, perhaps a half
glass later, Alcyna stepped into the study and quietly closed the door.

“We
lost Ghasylt and Yuasylt, Lyzetta and one of her undercaptains, and two of
Fhentyl’s undercaptains.”

“I’m
sorry about that,” Dainyl replied quietly.

“I’ve
done a quick debriefing,” Alcyna went on. “According to Chelysta, Ghanyr, and
Asyrk, you destroyed all the lightcannon and light-rifles and something like
twenty pteridons. By yourself. All by yourself. All by your frigging self.”

“I
didn’t keep count,” Dainyl admitted. “I tried not to get our Myrmidons into the
mess. It would have been much better not to be on the defensive, but Khelaryt
wouldn’t respond. I had to do something.”

The
marshal shook her head. “You went after Brekylt, didn’t you?”

“In
both Alustre and Dulka.” He laughed ruefully. “I didn’t have a pteridon. They
do make a difference.”

“For
you. Not necessarily for everyone.”

There
was a sharp and hard rap on the closed door.

“Marshal!
Highest! There’s a messenger here from the Duarch.”

Alcyna
and Dainyl exchanged glances.

“You
said he wouldn’t be pleased,” Dainyl finally said, standing.

Alcyna
opened the door.

Doselt
stood there. “He doesn’t look happy.”

“Let’s
go see what it’s all about,” suggested Dainyl.

As
he and Alcyna walked down the corridor toward the entry foyer, Dainyl looked
toward the front entrance, where a green dispatch coach waited.

The
alector who awaited them wore dark green. His face was grim, and his eyes
twitched. He did not look at Dainyl as he stepped toward Alcyna. “Marshal...
you are summoned to the Palace immediately — “

Dainyl
stepped forward. “No. The marshal acted under my orders. If there is a summons,
I will take it.”

“But,
Highest...”

“I
will accompany you. I will be most happy to explain matters to the Duarch, but
I will not have my subordinates summoned and questioned for my orders.”

The
alector glanced across the faces of the Myrmidon officers. His shoulders
slumped. “As you wish, Highest.”

“I
need a moment with my officers,” Dainyl said. “Wait. I’ll follow you in my
coach.”

After
a moment of hesitation, the messenger nodded, then turned.

Once
he was out of the building, Dainyl faced Alcyna. “If anything happens to me,
fly all the Myrmidons to Lyterna and place yourself under the command of
Asulet. If he has not survived, then you will be the senior alector. Take
control of Lyterna and defend it.”

“Do
you know what you’re doing?” asked Alcyna, her voice low.

“No.
I know what I should have done, and I know what I won’t do. Widespread use of
lightcannon will destroy Acorus and all of us. Unless he changes his mind,
Khelaryt is unwilling to accept or understand that. He is more worried about
pteridon fighting pteridon than about a weapon far more deadly and dangerous.”
And I still don’t understand why.

“He’ll
kill you.”

“He
may, but he needs to hear what is, not what he wishes to hear, and a good
Myrmidon offers his best judgment.” Dainyl walked toward his still-waiting
coach.

“To
the Palace.” Dainyl was tired, almost exhausted, when he climbed into the coach
and closed the door. Yet the summons to the Palace was an order, and one that
obviously indicated that the Duarch was displeased. But why? Because of the
losses the Myrmidons had taken in repulsing the attack and destroying most of
the attackers? Or because Dainyl was supposed to have let them destroy Elcien
without a fight in order to avoid pteridon fighting pteridon?

He
sat back on the hard bench seat and closed his eyes for a time, just gathering
himself together. Then, as the coach neared the Palace, Dainyl looked to the
Hall of Justice, pardy because he wondered how long the transfer would take and
partly because he worried about the conflict within Lyterna, yet there was no
way to discover how Asulet and Myenfel had fared against Paeylt without the use
of the Tables.

He
still recoiled from the purpleness around the Hall, stronger than before, yet
paradoxically, he could sense a stronger presence of the blackish amber-green
of the ancients beneath and around it.

Do
you dare? Did he not dare?

He
extended a Talent probe — one of green — to that well of lifeforce/Talent,
touching it, but not drawing from it. Not yet.

He
held that tie after the coach halted in the entry rotunda and he stepped out
and through the archway into the entry foyer. He also held full Talent shields.
The messenger had to run from the dispatch coach to catch up to Dainyl, then
abruptly stopped behind him in the foyer.

The
functionary who greeted Dainyl was not Bharyt, but a younger alector — the
stern-faced Moryn. “Highest...” His eyes flicked to the messenger.

“I
intercepted the summons,” Dainyl stated firmly. “The marshal acted under my
orders, and I will see the Duarch. If he is displeased with my actions, he can
summon the marshal later.”

After
the briefest of pauses, Moryn replied, “He will see you in the conference room.
This way.”

Dainyl
nodded and followed the functionary down the long columned hallway.

Moryn
opened the door. “He will be with you shortly, Highest.”

Dainyl
had his doubts about that and settled into one of the chairs. He waited a good
half glass before the door from the private library and study opened.

Khelaryt
stepped into the conference room. Talent and anger swirled around him, but he
closed the door gently, if firmly.

Dainyl
stood, inclining his head slightly. “Most High.”

The
Duarch took two steps into the room and stopped, looking down on Dainyl.

“I
am less than pleased with you, Dainyl. Why did you not bring the news about the
transfer of the Master Scepter personally? Why did you decide whom I would
summon?”

Dainyl
eased away from the chair and the table. “Because Elcien was under attack, sir.
I could do nothing about the Master Scepter, and two companies of pteridons
loyal to Samist, two ships fitted with lightcannon and loyal to Alseryl, who decided
to betray you to Samist, and sandoxen and lightcannon under Ruvryn — they all
were headed here to attack Elcien.”

“All
because you angered the Duarch of Ludar, and Brekylt and the other High
Alectors. That was your doing.” Despite the dark reddish purple of the anger
roiling within the Duarch, his deep voice was mild.

Dainyl
strengthened his tie to the black amber-green beneath Elcien.

“And
you continue to employ that improper Talent.”

“I
have always supported you and the Duarchy, no matter what the nature of my
Talent may be,” replied Dainyl calmly. “Even when others have not.”

“Did
I give you orders to attack? Was that support? Did I tell you to sacrifice
scores of pteridons? Was that support?”

“We
did not attack, sir. We defended Elcien against attack. We would have lost even
more pteridons by not responding.”

“Why
did you fight pteridons against pteridons?” asked Khelaryt.

“I
was not aware that we had any choice, sir.”

“The
responsibility of the High Alector of Justice is to avoid such wasteful conflicts.”

“I
thought that was your responsibility, sir. By refusing to see what has
developed, and by refusing to act against disloyal High Alectors when you had
the power to do so, you ended up with only me supporting you. These events have
angered you, and now you wish to take that anger out on me.”

“You
were supposed to stop the disloyalty. You failed me and the Duarchy.”

Dainyl
just looked at the Duarch. “I did not fail you, Khelaryt. I may have failed the
Duarchy.” Had the Archon selected Khelaryt as a figurehead shadowmatched and
conditioned not to use force just so that there would not be a violent war? Was
that how Dainyl had failed? In not understanding the true power basis of the
Duarchy?