Alector's Choice (38 page)

He watched as his men
stripped weapons and ammunition and dragged bodies to the side of the road. He
said nothing about the quick searches of wallets. He doubted if many of the
dead had jewelry of value.

Bhoral rode slowly
toward Mykel, reining up.

“Do you know how many
we lost?”

“Just one, sir.
Trooper from first squad—Onstyt. Three wounded, two from first squad, and one
from third. What about their wounded?”

“Put them on mounts.
We’ll take them back to Dramuria with us.”

“Some are hurt pretty
bad.”

“Do what you can.”
Mykel stopped. A single rider was headed toward them from the west. After a
moment, he recognized the scout, and raised his hand. “Jasakyt! Here!”

The third squad scout
reined up short of Mykel. “Sir!”

“Is someone coming
after us?”

“Not right yet, sir,
but the riders that circled round Fifteenth Company, they got back on the road
a vingt or so west of here. Thought I’d follow and watch for a time.” The scout
paused, then went on. “They joined a bunch more rebels, maybe close to half a
battalion’s worth. They’re all heading west. Not in a hurry, I’d say.”

“You think they have
a camp somewhere here?”

“Hard to say, but if
I had to guess, sir…”

“You’d wager that
way, and so would I,” Mykel con-eluded, turning to Bhoral. “Have them finish up
as quickly as they can. We need to get back to Dramuria. The overcap-tain needs
to know. The men and their mounts need quarters and decent food and beds.”

Most of all, Mykel
needed to talk to Dohark—if he even happened to be there.

For all Mykel’s
urging, twilight was giving way to night before Fifteenth Company finally began
to ride southward. The captives rode at the rear, with captured mounts carrying
all the captured rifles and ammunition behind them.

“Getting to be a
bloody mess,” Bhoral said quietly from where he rode beside Mykel.

“Likely to get
bloodier,” Mykel replied. “I worry about Seventeenth Company. They were
supposed to be patrolling that road.”

“Maybe the westerners
just avoided them.”

“With half a
battalion? Be pretty hard to do that on such a narrow road.”

“Could have lured
them north. Wasn’t there a message about that?”

“That was days ago.”
It could have happened, but that was another reason why Fifteenth Company was
riding back to the compound. The local Cadmians at the mine compound had walls
and plenty of ammunition. Third Battalion’s companies were scattered across all
of eastern Dra-mur, without that much ammunition, little warning, and no walls.

Less than a vingt
south of the battle site, Mykel began to smell the smoke—thick and acrid.
Through the growing dusk that was almost night, he could see reddish embers
ahead. Only because the wind was at his back had they not smelled the odors of
burning cots and huts.

He turned. “Bhoral!
Get those prisoners and their guards up front here. Right now!”

Even before he had finished
the order, Mykel could feel the unasked question and answered, “They burned
people’s huts and stables. I want whoever’s around to know that they didn’t all
get away. Bring them up right behind the outriders and me—with the rankers
guarding them.”

“Yes, sir.” Bhoral
turned his mount and rode toward the rear of the column. “Prisoners forward!
Captain’s orders! Quick as you can.”

Before that long, the
eight surviving captives lurched along in their saddles behind Mykel and the
outriders. Even under the cloud cover, the night didn’t seem all that dark to
Mykel as they neared the rows of burning cots and barns ahead. He could see
figures trying to salvage goods, struggling to tie up animals that had escaped.

“Riders!” called
someone.

“Cadmians! Headed back
with captives!” Mykel called back.

The first person he
saw was a graying woman. She knelt by an open gate between two stone pillars,
then looked up from an animal—a dog that had been shot—toward the oncoming
riders. Then her eyes took in the captives in blue, and she sprang to her feet.
She took one step forward before a wiry man appeared and laid a hand on her
arm. Both watched silently as Mykel rode past. He listened as he rode past them
and the smoldering remains of the cots and huts.

“… Cadmians… didn’t
stop them…”

“… killed a lot of
‘em… captured some… you saw…”

“… won’t rebuild my
cot and barn…”

The raiders had fired
close to a score of dwellings and outbuildings, but they hadn’t fired anything
else along the road. Mykel had to wonder what they had done in two days.

When he finally
turned his mount off the mine road and onto the spur road leading to the
compound, through a break in the clouds he could see the small green disc of
Asterta. “Warrior goddess,” he murmured under his breath, “we did you proud
today. Lots of bodies.” Not that he be-lieved that the smaller moon was a
goddess, but it helped to vent some of his frustration.

The compound gates
were open, but there was a full squad of local Cadmians stationed in the towers
and just outside.

“Fifteenth Company!”
Mykel called. “Returning with captives for resupply.”

“Hold there!”

“Send someone out and
check, and make it quick!” snapped Mykel. “We’ve got wounded men and captives,
and it’s been a long ride.”

A squad leader and
two rankers advanced gingerly, holding rifles.

Mykel snorted. “If
we’d meant trouble, you’d all be dead, and we’d already be inside the gates. If
you’d stand aside…”

The squad leader
looked up at Mykel. He swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

Mykel heard more low
comments as he rode through the gates.

“… captives…
westerners…”

“… knew they were up
to no good…”

If everyone knew
that, Mykel reflected, why hadn’t anyone told them? Then, Rachyla had, in a
way. He wondered if she were still all right.

The sound of hoofs on
stone echoed through the night. There were few words between the Cadmians, a
sign that most were exhausted.

As they neared the
stables, Mykel turned to Bhoral. “Have Alendyr and second squad take the
captives over to the prisoner’s barracks. We’ll let the locals sort that out.”

“Good idea, sir.”

Mykel hadn’t even
dismounted when a ranker hurried through the darkness toward Fifteenth Company,
stopping short of the column. “Captain Mykel, sir? Are you there?”

Mykel could see the
ranker plainly. Why couldn’t the man see him? “Right here.”

The ranker turned.
“Sir. The overcaptain would like to see you right now.”

Mykel glanced toward
Bhoral. “More calls of duty. I’ll check back with you. Make sure that all the
men get their weapons cleaned and they get washed up before they sack out.”

Bhoral chuckled.
“They’ll love that.”

“Tell them I’m
meeting with the overcaptain, and that I’ll be in a piss-poor mood by the time
he gets through with me. Tell them whatever you have to…” Mykel dismounted,
handing the chestnut’s reins to Fioryt, the closest Cadmian.

He followed the
messenger through the darkness of the courtyard to headquarters. One thing was
certain—his night vision hadn’t suffered. Everything else had, though.

Dohark sat behind the
desk in the study that had been Majer Herryf’s. Before him was a large map. He
looked up tiredly as Mykel stepped through the doorway, then gestured. “Close
the door. Might as well use this study. Colonel’s gone, and Herryf’s not real
helpful.”

Mykel shut the door,
then stepped toward the desk and slumped into a chair across from the battalion
commander. Dohark looked more tired than Mykel felt.

“You look like shit,
Mykel,” offered the overcaptain.

“So do you, sir.”

“Tell me why you’re
here, when your station is at the mine.”

“Two rebel companies
attacked the mine compound last night. We drove them off, killed more than
thirty. This morning we found a squad spying on us, and we killed something
like eighteen of them—”

“I got your reports
and the prisoners. They didn’t seem to know much.”

“No one does.” Mykel stifled
a yawn. He was tired. “We interrogated the captives, enough to learn where they
were going to rejoin their captain. We set up an ambush. Pretty much wiped out
one of the companies. At least, we left seventy bodies on the road. We brought
back the rifles and ammunition, and some extra mounts. All the rifles are new
Cadmian pieces. My scouts found at least three more companies to the west of
the mine road, maybe four. They were riding west. I didn’t bother with bodies
when I could have been outnumbered five to one. I also thought you ought to
know.”

“Five to one?”

“Four and one makes
five,” Mykel said. “There might be more. We didn’t finish up until close to
dark. Oh… the western bluecoats burned a score of cots north of Dramuria.”

“I got word on that when
we got here earlier tonight. We got tied up with snipers on the smuggling road.
Didn’t lose many men, just three, captured a small boatload of ammunition last
night. Five cases. Then we started south. It’s a long ride back here. It’s a
long ride anywhere on this frig-gin‘ island.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How much of your
company do you have left—that can fight?”

“A little less than
fourscore. Some of my earlier wounded might be well enough in another week or
so to rejoin the company.” Mykel paused, then asked, “Have you heard anything
from Seventeenth Company?”

“No. Have you?”

“No. That’s why I
asked. They were supposed to be patrolling the west road. When I found out
there were five-odd companies that came down the road…”

“Could be Heransyr
had enough sense not to engage them.”

“It could be,” Mykel
agreed politely.

“You don’t think so.”

“I don’t know. The
other thing that really bothers me is that these bluecoats can’t fight. Why are
they sending them over here to get killed?”

“Maybe they didn’t
know they couldn’t fight,” Dohark said quietly.

Mykel sat there for a
moment. He’d never considered that possibility.

“They can get
reinforcements. We can’t,” Dohark pointed out. “Not for a long while, anyway.
We’ll have to scout the western road and protect Dramuria. I’ve called .
Sixteenth Company in from the north. They should be here tomorrow. I’ll also be
suggesting to Majer Herryf that he either station both Cadmian companies at the
mine or pull everyone out.” Dohark laughed harshly. “He won’t. He might get by
with it because the walls there are high and thick.”

Mykel nodded.

“As for you, Mykel.
You look like shit. I’ll bet your men do, too, or you wouldn’t have brought
them back. We can’t afford exhausted troopers, or captains. Get some sleep, and
check in with me in the morning.”

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“The same goes for
exhausted overcaptains, sir.”

Dohark laughed,
briefly. “You get some sleep, and I’ll get some. Now… get out of here, so I can
finish figuring out something, and we’ll both get to sleep sooner.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mykel eased out of
the study, realizing that Dohark was using it because the Myrmidon colonel was
gone—and because Dohark didn’t expect him back soon. He shook his head, then
slipped out of the building and into the cool night air. He did not head for
quarters, but to the officer’s cell that he hoped still held Rachyla.

The guards looked at
him. One opened his mouth.

Mykel looked back,
hard. “I won’t be long.”

“Ah… yes, sir.”

As always, they held
their rifles ready as they unlocked the cell and let him enter.

Rachyla turned from
the desk where she had been writing in the dim light of the lamp hung on the
wall. She did not rise from the stool. “It’s rather presumptuous of you to come
so late. What if I were asleep?”

“I would have left.”

She studied him
before speaking. “You have blood all over your neck.”

“You were right.”

“What does that have
to do with the blood. Have you been out slaughtering more helpless and
untrained men?”

“Yes. We ambushed two
companies of bluecoats after they had burned out cots and dwellings north of
Dramuria.”

“After? How brave of
you.”

“We’d fought our way
out of one ambush the night before. That was where your equally noble bluecoats
tried to massacre the mine prisoners.” Mykel managed, somehow, to keep a dry
tone to his words, rather than the anger he felt. “We’d already fought another
skirmish earlier in the day. In the last fight, since we were outnumbered more
than two to one, we were the ones to spring the ambush. And no, I don’t feel
good about it. But… you were right. They were all from the west.”

“And they wounded
you.”

Mykel laughed,
ironically. “No. They didn’t. Someone hit a tree beside me, I was hit by a big
splinter. I pulled it out. I didn’t even know I was bleeding.”

For a moment, she was
silent.

“How many large or powerful
seltyrs are there west of the mountains?” he asked.

Rachyla cocked her
head, then said, “Twelve. There are only twelve of the west, as there are only…
were only twelve of the east. Some of the growers in the west hold more land
than some of the seltyrs in the east, but they are not seltyrs.”

“Thank you.” Mykel
forced himself to breathe easily.

“Why did you say I
was right?”

“You said—you hinted,
rather—that the seltyrs of the west might be a problem. They are. There are at
least four companies east of the mountains.”

“So… you will kill
them all, too.”

Mykel wanted to break
through her composure, almost to scream at her that she didn’t understand, that
he didn’t like slaughter, didn’t want to kill so many men. “Perhaps.”

“If you do not, the
Myrmidons will.”