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Authors: L. E. Modesitt

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64

 

Mykel looked at the
bread and cheese in front of him. The cheese was white, hard, and not quite
rancid. The bread was stale enough that each bite sprayed crust crumbs. Beside
them was a green apple banana. Nothing looked appetizing in the dawn of a Septi
morning that was the last in winter, but very little food had looked appealing
in recent days.

Mykel was worried.
Not because anything had happened, but because nothing had. From the moment
Fifteenth Company had started patrolling in Dramur, they had run into problems
of one sort or another. Now, while the locals were no more friendly, no one
seemed to pay any attention to the Cadmians, and no one had fired a shot at any
of the squads in more than a week. People who had been shooting at Cadmians for
months just didn’t stop for no reason. Mykel hadn’t gotten any answers from
Captain Meryst, either, on his question about the crimes committed by prisoners
who were missing. He doubted he would. Still, it had been worm a try.

His thoughts drifted
back to Rachyla, as they often did. Was it just that he hadn’t seen an
attractive woman in months? He shook his head. She was striking, but not a
raving beauty. There was too much understanding, and too much confidence in
those green eyes, for most men to be comfortable with her. Was that why he was
drawn to her? He frowned. No. As he’d noted to himself before, there was
something else, something that he still couldn’t identify, that worried at him
even as it attracted him.

His lips curled into
a faint smile. Maybe it was just that she was dangerous.

He looked down at his
food. With a grimace, he peeled back the banana and took a bite. It was green,
and- edible, if barely. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Captain Meryst
enter the dining shed, look around, and head toward him. I Out of courtesy,
Mykel stood.

“I’d hoped to find
you before you left on patrol. I put in the inquiry along the lines you asked
about.” Meryst inclined his head. “How did you know?”

Although Mykel had
asked about the crimes committed by missing prisoners, he had no idea what the
other captain meant. “How did I know what?”

“Almost all of the
miners who disappeared in the mine, something like twenty-seven out of the
thirty where the jus-ticer had records, were the violent types.”

“Sentenced for murder
or beating someone up?” asked Mykel.

“Yes. How did you
know?” asked Meryst.

“I didn’t. I wanted
to know if there were any patterns as to why they vanished.”

“Almost looks like
the other miners just took care of them,” suggested the local Cadmian captain.
“They would have known.”

“It could be,” Mykel
admitted. “Or it could be that the dangerous ones were the ones most likely to
try anything to escape.”

“Either way”—Meryst
offered a faint smile—“I’d be interested in your thoughts on it sometime.”

“I’ll have to give it
some thought.” Mykel could sense that Meryst didn’t accept his explanations,
but the other captain wasn’t going to press, not in the mess shed with rankers
and squad leaders passing and listening.

After Meryst
departed, Mykel reseated himself and looked at the remains of breakfast.

“It doesn’t get any
better, sir,” called Dravadyl from an adjoining table.

“I could always
hope,” Mykel retorted.

Several rankers—and
Dravadyl—laughed.

When he finished
stolidly slogging through the cheese and bread, Mykel rose and made his way to
the stable shed, where he saddled the chestnut. He’d planned to ride the mine
road patrol with Chyndylt and third squad. He walked the chestnut out into the
cool sunlight, looking around for the third squad leader.

“Captain!” called
Bhoral. “The overcaptain sent us near-on a full wagon of ammunition. There’s a
dispatch for you with it.” The senior squad leader hurried across the dusty
stable yard.

“A wagonful of
ammunition?” Mykel took the dispatch from Bhoral’s extended hand.

“Must think we’ll
need it up here.”

Mykel was afraid of
that. He opened the dispatch envelope and began to read.

Captain Mykel—

Since you left
Dramuria, a number of events that bear watching have occurred. Some of the
seltyrs west of the MurianMountains have been training armed horse troopers. In
addition, we have just learned that a number of smugglers’ craft were sighted sailing
around the south cape almost a week ago. The vessels appeared to be
heavy-laden. Those vessels may be carrying more rifles and ammunition.

On several occasions,
Seventeenth Company has reported heavy fire from the hills on both sides of the
road to the west and, at my request, is repositioning closer to Dramuria.
Because Fifteenth Company has often been involved in heavy action, I have
dispatched an additional ammunition wagon for you. Use the utmost caution in
any pursuit actions. Report by messenger if you encounter and observe any large
bodies of foot or mounted troopers.

Mykel read through
the short missive once again, nod-ling as he did before handing the dispatch to
the senior quad leader. He waited for Bhoral to read it

After several
moments, the older Cadmian looked up. Overcaptain’s worried, and he doesn’t
worry easy-like.“

“Have all the men
carry extra rounds on patrol, and find somewhere to put the wagon where it can
be guarded. Pull some men from each squad for guards.”

“Six men, I’d think,
sir. One from each squad, and two from third squad.”

Mykel grinned.
“Because I’m riding with third?”

“It keeps the numbers
equal, sir.” The hint of a smile ap- i peared at the corners of the senior
squad leader’s mouth.

As he rode toward the
ammunition wagon, Mykel glanced at the peaks to the west of the camp. Would
there be an attack from the west? Was water wet? Did nightwasps sting?

Even after he drew
the chestnut beside Chyndylt and waited for the remainder of third squad to
form up, Mykel continued to fret, both about Dohark’s dispatch and about
Meryst’s information.

Why would the
rock-creatures or even the soarers have wanted to feed on the most violent
prisoners? He couldn’t escape the feeling the soarers had a way of knowing
which men were dangerous, even if he had no idea how. The soarer’s words also
echoed in his thoughts—You must find your talent to see beyond the world… He
had no idea how to turn his talent for shooting better into a broader talent,
or even where to start—as if he even had the time to do so.

His fingers moved to
his belt, and the slit and hidden sheath that held the ancient knife. Had she
found him in the rocks above the mine because he carried the knife, or had it
been a coincidence? Did it matter?

“Third squad, ready,
sir!” Chyndylt announced.

“Head out!” Mykel
glanced back at the squad, then at the road ahead.

65

 

While he waited for
the marshal on Septi, Dainyl moved his papers and gear to the study that had
been Tyanylt’s. That took less than a glass, because Dainyl had never had many
personal effects in his study and because everything that had been the former
Submarshal’s had long since been removed. Then he went through the remainder of
the reports that had piled up in his absence. For all the pages from the
Myrmidon and Cadmian companies across Corus, there was surprisingly little new
or detailed information.

An older report
addressed one question. The closure of the Cadmian compound in Scien had been
postponed until the coming spring when the snows ceased and the weather would
be more suited to riding horses along the

North Road

to Pystra and south to Norda, where
the existing compound was being enlarged to take another two companies. There
still wasn’t any information on why the Scien compound was being closed or the companies
relocated to Norda—or about the need for the earlier Myrmidon winter recon
flights. The Twenty-third Cadmian Mounted Rifles from Alustre was being
permanently relocated to Lysia. There was no explanation, except that the High
Alector of Justice had ordered the move. Why Lysia? Although it was a seaport,
it was another compound more than a little out of the way, well southeast of
Prosp, and more than eight hundred vingts from Alustre by road.

At the request of the
High Alector of Engineering, Seventh Company had sent a squad of Myrmidons to
Coren for aerial reconnaissance of the town and forest fires. A battalion of
Cadmians was en route from Alustre to deal with the revolt and unrest.

Another revolt? In
yet another isolated locale? All Dainyl knew about Coren was that it was one of
the few areas authorized for logging and lumbering and that the raw timber was
sent down the river to Alustre. Why Seventh Company? The Myrmidons in Lyterna
were far closer. Dainyl shook his head. It was winter. Between the storms, the
cold, and the height of the mountains in the Spine of Corus, a direct flight
was difficult, if not impossible, until late spring, and there were neither
Myrmidon nor Cadmian outposts or compounds anywhere close to Coren.

Dainyl kept reading,
trying to catch up on everything that he had missed.

Even though he had
started right after morning muster, by two glasses past noon, he still had not
read half of the reports he had dug up from the files and stacked on his new
desk.

The door opened, and the
marshal stood there.

Dainyl jumped to his
feet. “Sir.”

“Sit down, Dainyl.”
Shastylt closed the study door and settled into the chair across the desk from
the Submarshal. “I can see you’ve been busy.”

“I was trying to
catch up on what had happened.” Dainyl reseated himself.

“You never will.” The
marshal laughed, once, harshly. “I never have, not on everything. I apologize
for being late. Matters with the Highest took longer than I had thought. We
have to make a quintal presentation to both Duarches next week.” Shastylt
offered a rueful smile. “Matters are not what we would like, and there are
certain to be questions.” He gestured toward the stack of reports. “You’ve
found some of them, I’m sure.”

“Has anyone
discovered anything more about the problems in Hyalt and Dereka?”

“We’ve isolated the
wild Talent in Hyalt, and our Myrmidon squads are closing in. That’s likely to
be finished in a matter of weeks, if not days. As for Dereka… nothing else has
vanished, and no one can explain how the skylances vanished.”

“What about the
missing alectors?”

“They’re still
missing, with no signs of where they went. They left everything behind.”
Shastylt shrugged. “They were all on the Table contingent there, but they were
off duty.”

“First the skylances,
and now alectors,” mused Dainyl.

“We’re leaving that
problem to the senior alectors at Lyterna.”

Dainyl got the
unspoken message. “I was reading the reports. What can you tell me about what
happened in Coren?”

The older alector
offered a disgusted snort. “It’s another instance where the regional alectors
haven’t paid any attention. So long as the timber came downriver, they thought
everything was fine. The locals didn’t like the rules on how and when and where
to log, and some of them started forest fires…”

“So that they’d have
even fewer trees to log? And more restrictions?”

“Sometimes, steers
don’t think. The local indigens killed the patrollers, or most of them, three
weeks ago. We finally heard about it last week. The first time there was any
sign of trouble, either the Myrmidons or the Cadmians should have been called
in. In the end, we’ll lose forests and lifeforce mass, a bunch of indigens, and
some Cadmian troopers.

Much better to see
things in advance, the way you’re handling Dramur.“

Dainyl wasn’t so sure
he was seeing anything that much in advance in Dramur, or that the marshal and
Highest wanted him to do so. “It doesn’t always work out that way.”

“No, it doesn’t. I
wish I didn’t have to send you to Lyterna right now, but some rules we just
can’t break, even for convenience. You know, that’s one thing that gets people
into trouble. They bend the rules because they’re pressed or because it’s
inconvenient, and then the next time it’s easier, and before long there aren’t
any rules, and matters are worse than they would have been if they’d just put
up with a little inconvenience.” Shastylt smiled.

Dainyl easily sensed
the lie. The marshal wanted him in Lyterna. Dainyl doubted that Shastylt was
that enthusiastic about Dainyl learning more. Was that because Dainyl had gotten
a grasp on what was happening in Dramur? Or because he had been about to, and
neither the marshal nor the Highest wanted that to happen? “The rules become
easier and easier to ignore.”

“Exactly. Principles
do matter, and which principles you act on and which you don’t are equally
important.” The marshal stood.

Dainyl rose to his
feet as well, waiting.

“Now… tomorrow,
you’ll take your two Myrmidon escorts with you. Fly the southern route, and
stop in the way station at Syan. Be sure to enjoy some of the good wine while
you’re there. Asulet is expecting you in Lyterna, and he’ll be the one training
you on the use of the Table for travel and providing you with the Submarshal’s
briefing and background. After they’ve had a day’s rest, two if it’s been a hard
flight, you can dispatch the pteridons back here. You’ll be able to return by
Table, of course, right to the Hall of Justice. You’ll find that to be a great
convenience at times.” Shastylt smiled wryly. “Only at times. We still have to
deal with problems in places like Dramur and Iron Stem. Now… if you’ll excuse
me, I need to prepare some calculations.“

“Yes, sir.”

After the study door
closed, Dainyl stood behind his desk, motionless, thinking.

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