Alector's Choice (32 page)

Despite the long
flights to Elcien, on Quinti, Dainyl woke at dawn to the wind wailing outside
the windows. When he opened his eyes, Lystrana was awake and looking at him.

“You still sleep like
a child at times,” she said.

“That’s when I’m so
tired I forget to worry,” he replied, slowly struggling into a half-sitting
position. “The older I get, the more tired I have to be.”

“Breakfast won’t be
ready for a while, and you were going to tell me what the problems were in
Dramuria.” Lystrana propped herself up in the wide bed and looked directly at
him.

He understood why she
wanted to talk in their bedroom. “I was… except someone had other ideas.”
Dainyl grinned mischievously.

“Oh… I didn’t see
much protesting from a certain colonel.” Her eyes smiled.

They both laughed,
but only for a moment.

“What’s happening in
Dramur follows what you suggested last night, but there are things that don’t
fit. I’m certain that the marshal used Talent on the majer in charge of the
Third Battalion of Cadmians, so that he would issue foolish orders and keep his
captains from using their initiative…” Dainyl gave a summary of the events,
including the unmarked Cadmian rifles, the smugglers, the uniformed horse troopers
of the west, and the trooper who had been Talent-manipulated and committed two
murders.

“Is that all?” asked
Lystrana dryly.

“I wish it were. I’ve
also run into an ancient and her creatures—”

“A real ancient?”
interrupted Lystrana. “You’re sure? Of course you are. But…” She shook her
head. “There aren’t any mentions, even in the archives, and I’ve read most of
them.”

“A very real
ancient…” He went on to describe both his encounters with the soarer and her
words. “There’s a power there that’s frightening. It’s not just their power to
transport themselves places, either. I can see that. Their mirror seems
equivalent to a Table.”

“You said that the
creatures disappeared into the rock. I’d wager the soarer could do that as
well.”

Dainyl thought about
that. “I wouldn’t be surprised, but if they’re so powerful, why haven’t they
shown themselves?”

“There can’t be that
many, not compared to all the landers and indigens. The only ruins we’ve found
are in high and cold places. Even this tunnel is in the mountains, you said. We
don’t like either, and we’re the ones most likely to sense them.”

“Except for the
landers with Talent,” he said.

“They aren’t many of
them, and you know what the Views of the Highest says about that. There
wouldn’t be any if we could find them early enough.”

“That’s true.” Dainyl
paused, thinking about Captain Mykel for a moment.

“You think they’re
dangerous, even if there can’t be very many?”

“I do. I couldn’t say
why, though.” He paused. “I still can’t figure out what she meant by changing or
perishing, and not being a part of the world.”

“The second part is
true, dearest. We’re not really a part of Acorus, not totally. We’re linked
through the Tables back o Ifryn. Even if the Archon decides to bring the master
scepter here, our link to this world will be through it.”

“But they don’t
regard the landers and indigens that way.”

“No.” Lystrana
laughed sardonically. “They feed on some of them, though, it sounds like. It
could be that they :an’t do that to us.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re from
Ifryn, even if we’re born here. We’re different. The landers and the indigens
are partly Ifryn, but mostly adapted to and part of Acorus.”

That made sense to
Dainyl, but it left another question. “Why are they showing up now?”

“Maybe they aren’t,”
suggested Lystrana. “There have always been disappearances. Maybe this is one
of those times when an alector with strong shields encountered them.”

“Neither Falyna nor
Quelyt sensed them.”

“I’d wager that
they’ve always been around.”

“You think that the
Highest and the Duarches have hushed up reports about them?”

“It’s almost
certain,” Lystrana concluded. “There would be pressure to find them, and that
would divert resources and a great amount of lifeforce.”

“And that would not
please the Archon.”

“No. And, if it’s as
it appears, trying to root them out of high places would be most costly. When
there are so few of them, the Duarches are most likely just watching and
waiting for them to finish dying off. There can’t be that many left”

“I’m not so certain.
The soarers are somehow behind the miners’ escapes and attacks.”

“I don’t think a
handful of escaped miners presents that real a threat to the Duarchy,” she
said.

“No, they don’t. But
why are the marshal and the Highest behind the contraband arms? I just wish I
knew why.”

“They could be using
the miners as cover for their strategy to preempt trouble, couldn’t they?”
asked Lystrana.

“They might be, but
there’s more there. I just don’t know what it could be.” He shook his head. “As
soon as I take over and get rid of the officer who’s creating more trouble than
he’s solving, I get recalled here for consultations. They want things to get
worse in Dramur. And I’m not in a position where I can do anything. I have to
think that Tyanylt discovered something and didn’t like it.”

“You’re probably
right.” Lystrana frowned. “There’s no proof, except for the contraband rifles,
and the High Alector of Justice can claim they were part of a strategy to
preempt later trouble because, if the seltyrs were allowed to gather forces and
arms more slowly, they would have a broader base of support. They also might
start developing artillery.”

Dainyl winced.
Life-reinforced garments and Talent-shields didn’t work against artillery. “So
there’s no way you can go to your Highest or to the Duarch?”

“Not unless we find
out more,” Lystrana replied. “When do you meet with the marshal?”

“In about two
glasses, and I suppose I’d better start getting washed up and dressed.”

Left unsaid as they
climbed out of bed and into the chill air was the understanding that the
meeting with the marshal would not be likely to produce anything resembling
evidence.

In the end, Dainyl
had to hurry through dressing and eating, and because he couldn’t count on
getting a coach to the Myrmidon compound, he left early, and walked, trying to
think out what he could ask the marshal that was in character with what he was
supposed to know.

The snow of the
previous night had mostly melted, although the skies were still gray, and a
wind blew out of the northwest. Dainyl was more than happy to step out of the
raw morning and into the comparative warmth of the headquarters building, and
glad that he was early enough to warm up before his scheduled meeting with
Marshal Shastylt.

Before he headed to
his study, he stopped at the duty desk, where Undercaptain Zernylta looked up,
waiting. “Is the marshal in yet?”

“No, sir,” she
replied.

“I’ll be in my
study.” Dainyl nodded politely and walked down the corridor past the
still-vacant study of the submar-shal. The door to his own study was closed. He
opened it and stepped inside. The room was slightly musty, and there were
stacks of reports piled on his desk. The colonel frowned. Certainly, the
reports could have been sent with Quelyt or Falyna.

With a deep breath he
sat down and began to read. After less than half a glass, he almost wished he
had not.

Three of the reports
were actually reports he’d sent to the marshal, and someone had read them, but
there were no replies and no notations. The rest of the reports were the
standard quintal reports from the various Myrmidon companies across Corus.
Majer Dhenyr, the commander of the Fifth Company in Dereka, had reported the
theft of two more skylances and requested replacements. How could anyone steal
a skylance? They were either in their holders on a pteridon or stored in the
pteridon’s square, never more than a few yards from one of the
Talent-creatures. No one stole anything from a pteridon. They didn’t sleep, and
their claws and beaks were lethal. They were virtually invulnerable to anything
short of cannon—and there weren’t any cannon on Acorus, not that the alectors
of the Tables had been able to find. Besides, it would have been obvious if
anyone had used cannon.

Third Company in
Alustre had sent two squads north for reconnaissance around the

North Road

between Scien and Pystra, as
requested by the marshal. Dainyl couldn’t help frowning at that. Two squads for
recon? Why? Dainyl knew that the two local Cadmian companies there had been
scheduled for rebasing at Norda, but that should have been completed a season
earlier.

“Sir?”

Dainyl set the report
down and looked up at Zorclyt, who stood in the doorway.

“The marshal would
like to see you now.”

“Thank you.” Dainyl
stood and walked swiftly from his study to the door of the marshal’s spaces.

“Come in, Colonel.”

Dainyl closed the
study door behind him, then followed the marshal’s gesture and settled into one
of the chairs across the desk from the head of the Myrmidons.

As Shastylt looked
directly at Dainyl, the marshal’s violet eyes were intent, the thin-lipped and
wide mouth set in an expression of concern. The colonel had seen the marshal
use that look before, and rather than respond, he merely waited. At some point,
the marshal would speak, certain that his words would carry more weight after
the silence.

“You have handled the
situation in Dramur with care and with tact”—Shastylt paused, leaving his words
hanging before going on—“when many would have been tempted to act
precipitously. At times, it is best to let an infection come to a head, where
it is concentrated, rather than treat it with palliatives that will only
prolong the treatment and recovery.”

Dainyl nodded
politely. “I have watched closely over the years and attempted to learn how to
distinguish such differences.” What he wasn’t about to say was that he didn’t
believe a word that Shastylt said, and that the analogy was misapplied to the
situation in Dramur.

“Even when you have
some doubts about the wisdom of a policy suggested by the Highest, you seem
able to understand that you may not see all that there is to see.”

“The higher I have
been promoted,” Dainyl replied easily, “the more obvious that has become.”

Shastylt was the one
who nodded. “For such reasons, the Highest and I have decided that you are
indeed suited to be Submarshal of Myrmidons, particularly at this time. All
Myrmidons are well aware you have held every position from being the newest
ranker all the way up to being sub-marshal, and that will instill even greater
confidence in them.” Shastylt smiled, more professionally than with personal
warmth as he extended an enameled box, setting it on the edge of the desk
before Dainyl. “Here are your stars, Submarshal.”

“Thank you.” Dainyl
bowed his head slightly. “I will do my best to live up to all the expectations
and requirements of being your deputy.”

“I am most certain
you will. Tomorrow morning, you will be meeting with the Highest, one glass
before noon, and he will be briefing you on certain critical aspects of your
duties. These are matters of which only a few below the station of high alector
are aware. We also will be promoting Majer Dhenyr to colonel to take over your
previous position here at headquarters. As you may recall, he’s been in charge
of Fifth Company in Dereka.”

“I’ve read more than
a few of his reports,” Dainyl admitted. “I must admit that the last one I read
worried me greatly.”

“About the missing
skylances?” Shastylt nodded. “That has worried all of us. The lances are
essentially worthless without a pteridon, but how they were taken is more than
a little vexing. The majer and the senior regional alector have questioned
everyone who could possibly have been near the pteridon squares there, but so
far have turned up nothing. There have been more than a few matters like that
recently, and once this business in Dramuria is wound up, you may have to
undertake a more thorough investigation of some of them.”

“I have heard that
five alectors vanished in Dereka. Is that so, and part of the problem there?”

“It is, but I cannot
say more until after you meet with the Highest.” The marshal looked directly
and intently at Dainyl. “I would be curious to know what happened to Ma-jer
Vaclyn to cause him to lose such control. If you can explain, that is.”

“Yes, sir. No one can
look into the mind of a dead man, but there were subtle indications of his…
growing instability. He was an officer who did not have the ability to be
promoted beyond majer. He was a competent company commander, but his grasp of
greater tactics was limited. His captains have, over the years, quietly
remedied his deficiencies. This is something far more easily done in operations
against raiders than in the situation in Dramur—”

“How so?”

“In Dramur,” Dainyl
replied, “there is not one group of insurgents, but several. There are
smugglers, who wish to avoid Duarchial tariffs. There are the escaped miners
who, for superstitious reasons associated with the vanished ancients, will
often resort to near-suicidal tactics to escape the mines and attack the
Cadmian guards. There are former smallholders, forced off their lands by the
seltyrs and the larger growers. There was at least one seltyr who was so
alarmed by these combined factors that he had assembled his own company armed
with the contraband Cadmian rifles.” Dainyl paused. “Did you ever receive any
reply, sir, to your inquiries about the source of those weapons?”

“A reply, yes. One
that was helpful… not really. The High Alector of Engineering sent an inquiry
to Faitel and one to Alustre. More than a thousand rifles are missing from the
reserve storeroom in Faitel, but no one seems to know how and when it
happened.”