Alector's Choice (23 page)

Duadi was a cloudy
day, although the clouds were high, and a cold wind, chill for Dramur, whistled
through the fields and scattered woodlands. Mykel rode beside Chyndylt, as he
had for the past week, after the efforts on the mining road had quieted that
area. With that success, Mykel had hoped that he would hear little from the
majer. He had been mistaken.

Majer Vaclyn had not
been totally pleased. He’d sent a short dispatch that asked Mykel if it had
been necessary to tie up the road for over a glass and keep the miners from
working when the mine was already suffering from lowered production. He also
suggested that Mykel should have recaptured at least some of the attackers.

Mykel had sent back a
polite reply, in which he noted that it was difficult to allow the prisoners to
travel a road under fire from rebels hidden above the road in the rocks, but
that he would attempt to do better, should the situation occur again. He’d had
to stay up late in the tiny cubicle in the rundown auxiliary barracks near the
mine to write up his response, as well as a more detailed account of both
actions. He had also written a second copy for his own records.

Because matters had
continued to remain quiet on the mining road, Mykel had been accompanying
Chyndylt and third squad on patrols of the lanes in the lower hills east of the
mining camp. Chyndylt had earlier reported that the squad had been taking
sporadic fire every day, but that they had never been able to get close to the
snipers. Whoever had been firing always chose places where they couldn’t be
seen.

By the end of another
week’s patrols, with Mykel accompanying the squad, matters had improved
somewhat While two of third squad’s rankers had been wounded, enough to send
them back to Dramuria, the squad had killed three snipers. Mykel had killed
two, although it was only clear to third squad that he had taken out one of
them, and that was fine with him. He would have been happy if he hadn’t been
credited with any.

He had sent back a
brief report with the wounded troopers in which he noted that one rebel had
lived for a few moments after being shot, but all that questioning could get
from the dying man was that more rifles would come “from the west” to add to
those stolen from the Cadmian compound. That was as much as any rank-and-file
rebel would know, Mykel surmised.

Earlier, just past
midmorning, someone had fired at the squad, but from a more distant rise,
without hitting anyone, and had used the lane to escape. Mykel had seen no
sense in pursuing, not when it might have led into a trap. The rest of the
morning had been quiet, except for an occasional jibe from holders.

One had stood behind
a tree and called, “Found any real rebels yet?”

The murmurs from the
squad as they had ridden past the holder’s cot had been worrying to Mykel.

“… mouthy bastard…”

“… like to shoot
him…”

“… not the one being
shot at…”

Mykel could see both
sides. He didn’t see any real rebellion. The shooting at troopers hadn’t
happened until after

Third Battalion had
arrived. The Cadmians hadn’t shot anyone who hadn’t shot at them first, and
they were getting tired . of being targets. So was Mykel, but he wasn’t the one
who could change the orders. If he protested or ignored them totally, he’d end
up court-martialed and flogged, with someone else succeeding him and carrying
out the same orders.

“There’s another cot
up there,” said Chyndylt. “Three men working on a trestle, looks like they’re
doing something to a chimney.”

“I don’t see anything
like rifles.” Mykel continued to survey the road and the surroundings, as did
the scouts, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

As the squad neared
the square stone house, with faded yellow shutters, the two bearded
stoneworkers turned, watching the squad. Neither said anything.

From one of the
windows came another voice. “There go the brave Cadmians. They shoot because
they can’t speak. Brave, brave, Cadmians.”

“Hush…” That was a
woman’s voice.

“I won’t. They don’t
do any good, just kill good men who were sent to the mines because they were
poor. Or because they angered the seltyrs. Ride on! Ride on, brave Cadmians.”

Mykel winced. At
least, the idiot had enough sense to stay out of sight.

The unseen woman said
something, and the man did not taunt the passing squad again.

The last of third
squad was a good hundred yards past the cot before Chyndylt spoke. “I’d wager
he wouldn’t dare to say that face-to-face.”

‘That’s not a wager
I’d take,“ replied Mykel.

“Why are they so
angry?”

“They don’t want us
here. They think that we’re tools of the seltyrs and the growers.”

“But… the majer
killed one of the seltyrs, and Fifteenth Company destroyed his private arms
force. If the seltyrs had their way, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Things like facts
and truth don’t change people’s feelings,” replied Mykel.

Another glass passed,
and, as noon approached, ahead Mykel saw a gray-haired man carrying stones,
apparently to extend a low stone wall that paralleled the lane. The man fitted
each stone, then turned to a pile behind him for another. As the squad neared,
the man stopped and watched.

His eyes avoided
Mykel’s as the captain rode past.

“Brave, brave
Cadmians…”

The words were just
loud enough to be heard. Mykel hoped no one else did. But hoping probably
wasn’t enough. For a moment, he debated, then eased the chestnut aside and
started to turn to head back toward the rear of the squad.

Crack! Crack!

“Third squad! Turn
and hold!” Mykel snapped.

He finished wheeling
the chestnut. When he looked back, less than ten yards away, a figure lay
slumped over the knee-high stone wall. It was the gray-haired man.

The last four
Cadmians had halted on the lane just forward of the fallen man. As Mykel rode
toward them, past the rest of the squad, he had no doubts that the holder was
dead.

“What happened here?”
demanded Mykel, reining up. “Who shot him?”

There was no answer.
Mykel’s eyes hardened, and he began to look over the last four Cadmians—Rykyt,
Jonasyr, Polynt, and Mergeyt.

Polynt looked at the
captain with some concern, but not at all nervously. Jonasyr didn’t look at
Mykel at all.

The squat and
dark-haired Mergeyt swallowed.

“Yes, Mergeyt? Did
you shoot him?”

“No, sir. Polynt did.
The fellow said we had to be brave to kill honest folk. Told us to go back
where we came from. Then, he looked at Polynt. Maybe he said something. Maybe
he didn’t, but Polynt plugged him.”

For all the
nervousness Mergeyt displayed, Mykel knew the ranker was telling the truth.

“What happened,
Polynt?” Mykel asked.

“Mergeyt shot him,”
replied the tall blond ranker. “The old fellow called him useless as a teats on
a boar, and worse-smelling than bat dung.” Polynt looked directly at Mykel
without any nervousness at all.

“I didn’t!” Mergeyt’s
voice rose almost to a squeak.

Mykel turned to
Jonasyr. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, sir. I
was looking up front. I just heard the shots. Polynt and Mergeyt were riding
back of us.”

The captain knew what
Rykyt was going to say before the angular and weathered lander ever did.

“I heard ‘em talking,
sir, but not who said what. Then there were shots.”

Mykel wondered… if
they just buried the body? No. With his luck, someone would find the man, and
then he’d be facing a flogging to the death. How… ?

He almost hit his own
head as he realized he had the answer. Before he said a word, his own rifle was
out. “Polynt! Mergeyt! Hand your rifles to Rykyt. Both of you. Butt first.
Now!”

“Yes, sir.” Polynt
handed over his rifle easily, almost casually.

Mergeyt’s hands were
shaking as he did.

“Rykyt, check the
magazines.”

“Polynt’s weapon’s warm,
sir. Two shells missing.”

That was as he
suspected. “What about Mergeyt’s rifle?”

“Cold, and fully
loaded, sir.” Rykyt’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Polynt.

“There’s a mistake,
sir. Mergeyt switched weapons on me.” Polynt projected complete sincerity.

“We’ll see about
that. We’ll have a hearing. I think the Myrmidon colonel’s still in Dramuria.
They’re pretty good at finding things out.” One way or another, Mykel needed to
get some other officer besides Majer Vaclyn involved. He looked at the other older
ranker. “Jonasyr. See if there’s anyone in the cot over there.”

There was no one else
in the cot, and the signs were that no one else lived there.

So the dead holder’s
body went with them, and Mykel dreaded making the reports, but there was no
safe way to hide what had been done, and no way to justify it—not that didn’t
leave him open to even greater risk and punishment.

Slightly past
midafternoon on Duadi afternoon, after returning to the mining barracks
briefly, Mykel rode south to Dramuria with third squad. He left Fifteenth
Company under Bhoral, with instructions to continue the same patrols, except
for the area that third squad had been covering. No one was to patrol there.

The ride to the
Cadmian compound in Dramuria took more than two glasses, and Mykel brought the
squad in the smaller east gate, where they would not visible from the
headquarters building. Since Majer Vaclyn seldom inspected or visited the
stables or the troopers’ barracks, Mykel had a good chance of working matters
out as he planned. It was worth the attempt.

Before he left the
barracks area where third squad was quartered, Mykel gave specific orders to
Chyndylt. “Keep third squad together. Keep Polynt under guard, and don’t let
anyone talk to anyone until I return, or until you get direct orders from
someone senior.”

“That bad, sir?”

It was probably
worse, but Mykel wasn’t about to say so. “Not if we handle it right.”

When he reached the
headquarters building, he eased in-side and looked along the main corridor. He
didn’t see Ma-jer Vaclyn. He made his way to the duty desk.

“Is Majer Vaclyn in?”

“No, sir,” replied
the squad leader. “He left a few moment ago. He said he wouldn’t be that long.”

“Thank you.”

Mykel couldn’t find
Captain Meryst, but Captain Benjyr was in his study in the headquarters
building.

“What can I do for
you, Captain?” asked Benjyr.

“I need a moment with
Majer Herryf. Is he around?”

“He might be…”

“It’s important that
he and Majer Vaclyn know something, but if Majer Herryf doesn’t know about it,
and I report to Majer Vaclyn…”

“I think he’s still
in his study.”

Mykel followed the
other captain down the corridor.

“Sir,” said Benjyr,
opening the study door slightly, “Captain Mykel of Fifteenth Company would like
a few words with you.”

“Have him come in.”

Benjyr smiled at
Mykel. “Good luck.” His voice was low.

Mykel stepped into
the majer’s study. The door clicked shut behind him.

‘This is rather
unusual,“ began Herryf. ”You report to Majer Vaclyn. For whatever it is, I
should send you to him.“

“Yes, sir. I’m not asking
you to do anything. Something happened that I thought both you and Majer Vaclyn
should know. He stepped out, and the duty desk didn’t know when he’d be back. I
thought that you might be able to counsel the majer if you knew.”

Herryf frowned.

“Let me explain, sir.
Fifteenth Company has been taking a lot of sniping. I’ve sent two men back here
wounded in the last week…” Mykel quickly summarized what had happened, then
went on. “… we’re being called outland Cad-naians, and everyone thinks you’ve
been pushed aside. We won’t be here forever. We never are on deployments, and
it seemed to me that you’d have to deal with the results of what we do.”

“That is most
considerate of you, Captain, but it would have been less trouble for all of us
if your man hadn’t shot a Dramuran.”

“There’s one other
problem, sir. The Cadmian who did the shooting is a Dramuran. He’s one of two
in my company.”

“I’m not sure how
that changes matters, Captain.”

“It may not. If
Polynt is executed, that’s two Dramurans dead, and Third Battalion killed them
both. It is a difficult situation. I even have to ask if the man who shot the
holder might have fled Dramur and might have had a grudge against the holder.”

Herryf frowned. “Why
would you think that?”

“There were words
exchanged, and it seems strange that, just from nowhere, a ranker would shoot
someone. Polynt denies it all, of course. The thing is, if it is a grudge
shooting, then that’s one thing, and it ought to be handled as a case of
murder. If it’s not, then you and Majer Vaclyn both need to know that all of
this taunting on patrols is having an effect.”

“Are you sure that it
doesn’t reflect lack of supervision, Captain?”

“Every company in
Third Battalion has been sniped at, sir, but Fifteenth Company has taken more
attacks than anyone.”

“Are you hoping that
this is something local?”

“I don’t think it is,
sir, but I don’t know. There’s no real way for either me or Majer Vaclyn to
find out. You could, and that would make sure this is handled in the proper
fashion.”

“I can see your concerns.
You also don’t want to be blamed for a failure that’s not in your control,
either, I imagine.”

“I’m responsible, one
way or another, sir. I’d just like to limit the damage.” Mykel tried to convey
both sincerity and concern. “I had thought, with a Myrmidon colonel here, there
might be something he could do… but that decision rests with you and Majer
Vaclyn.”

There was a knock on
the study door. “Captain Benjyr, sir. Majer Vaclyn has returned. I told him you
might need a few words with him. He said that he’d await your pleasure.”

Herryf smiled faintly
and stood. “Lead the way, Captain.”

“Yes, sir.” Mykel
offered a half bow and turned, stepping out of the study. He could only hope
that he could present matters in a way that restricted Majer Vaclyn’s actions,
but much of that depended on Herryf. He knew he could not trust either majer to
act fairly unless it was in each’s interest to do so, and he had to set matters
so that they saw matters in a similar light.

Majer Vaclyn’s mouth
almost dropped open as he saw Mykel, but he merely nodded as Majer Herryf
followed Mykel into the small study.

“Majer,” Mykel began,
“I was looking for you, but you were out, and, since the matter I was seeking
you for also involved Majer Herryf, I sought him out while I was waiting for
your return. As you know, Fifteenth Company has been patrolling the mine road
and the surrounding area in an effort to capture rebels. We have taken sporadic
fire for weeks now…” Mykel went on to explain exactly what had happened with
the third squad patrol. “Because this matter will affect both of you, and
because—”

“Who knows about
this?” snapped Vaclyn.

“The people in this
room, sir, and third squad. No one else. The holder lived alone. That was
another reason why I returned immediately with third squad. Polynt is under
restraint in the barracks at this point, and the squad is under orders not to
talk to anyone about the matter.”

For several moments,
there was silence.

Then Vaclyn turned to
Herryf. “Majer… you have had more time to consider this, and you’re more
familiar with the local situation. What do you think?”

Herryf smiled
politely. “I think your captain was very wise in considering what the local
implications might be, particularly with a Myrmidon colonel observing us. His
immediate referral to us speaks well of your example and oversight, Majer.”

Mykel managed to keep
his face impassive. Herryf saw a definite advantage in not having Mykel made an
example, but where was the local Cadmian majer headed?

“As you may not
know,” Herryf continued, “I had raised the matter of the rebels with the
Marshal of Myrmidons and Cadmians sometime ago. I had requested the authority
and golds to establish another company. That request was… deferred. Then, your
battalion was deployed here. For these reasons, for either one of us to hold a
court-martial over the officers and men involved could be seen as less than
impartial.”

“You are suggesting
that we request the colonel act as justicer, then?” asked Vaclyn.

“He has that
authority, and as an observer, he has even more impartiality.”

“That does have
merit,” reflected Vaclyn.

“Since the incident
did occur with Third Battalion, of course,” Herryf added, “I could not make
such a request, but I would be pleased to concur and add my strong
recommendation. My very strong recommendation.”

“The recommendation
will be ready in the morning, Majer,” Vaclyn replied. “I appreciate your
counsel and support.”

“If we do not act
together,” replied Herryf, “we may well suffer separately. If there is nothing
more?”

“Not at the moment.
Captain Mykel and I will need to discuss the details.”

Herryf nodded. “Thank
you, Majer… Captain.”

Once the study door
closed, Vaclyn looked hard at

Mykel. “Why did you
even bring this here?” The majer’s voice was low and did not conceal both anger
and displeasure. “You could have handled it there.”

“No, sir. The holder
was an older man, with lands. People know him. You can’t keep eighteen troopers
quiet. Not when the guilty one is trying to blame his riding mate. I’d just as
soon have shot Polynt myself, but then every trooper in the company would be
asking who I’d shoot next”

“You think you were
so smart, in making sure Majer Her-ryf knew.”

“Sir, the whole
compound would know within a day if I tried to keep it quiet. He was here when
I came looking for you. He had to know that I’d been on patrol. He’s not
stupid.”

Vaclyn’s hand blurred
toward his belt.

Mykel knew what was
coming, and he also knew that Va-clyn wasn’t aiming to kill or injure—unless
Mykel moved.

Thunk! The throwing
knife vibrated from where it had embedded itself in the doorframe behind and to
the left of Mykel’s ear.

“Captain…” Vaclyn’s
voice oozed menace. “I do not like games. I do not like schemes. What does it
take to make that point to you?”

“Sir… I am trying to
do the best I know how. It is hard on the men, being shot at from-cover day
after day, and having the locals make cracks and comments all the time. We’re
protecting these locals from escaped prisoners and brigands, and they think
we’re the enemy. Majer Herryf pointed out that all the Cadmians are considered
as less than impartial, and with Polynt being from Dramur, if you or the majer
find him guilty, lots of people here would say that he was a scapegoat, that we
picked the one of the few Cadmians from Dramur to blame. By referring it to the
colonel, you avoid that. No one questions an alector—”

“It’s still a game.”
Majer Vaclyn smiled coldly. ‘This time… this time… you just might be right.
Unlike the last time. Since this was your idea, you write the first draft of
the request. I’ll expect it here in my study in less than two glasses. Is that
clear?“

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh… one other
matter. I’ve let things cool off in Jy-oha, but I’ll be sending Thirteenth
Company off on Quattri to make sure things don’t go back to the way they were.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Write up that draft.
Make it good, Captain, very good. After that, you will also draft a report,
just the way you told it to us. Tonight. Majer Herryf and I will see Colonel
Dainyl in the morning. You and your squad are to remain within the compound
until this is resolved. You may go, Captain.”

Mykel left. He did
not look at the knife in the doorframe. He’d heard about the majer and his
knives, but this was the first time he’d been a target—even as a warning.
Matters were definitely not good, but they could have been far worse. Still… he
had a long night ahead of him. He also wondered how long it would be before the
majer found some way to bring him before a court-martial—and why the majer was
out after him.