Alector's Choice (51 page)

The pteridon circled
back and began to descend toward the road junction. Mykel could see that it was
coming in to land. “I’d better go meet them.”

“Here, sir,” offered
Dravadyl. “Just take a moment. Let me bind that.”

Mykel waited until
the white bandage was around his arm, not too tightly, but enough to staunch
the blood oozing out, he hoped.

“Bhoral! Reform the
company and get a casualty report. I’m going to meet the colonel.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mykel urged the
chestnut forward, but only at a walk. He’d asked too much of his mount already.
Ahead of him the pteridon had spread its wide wings and settled in the wide
space where the two roads joined.

As he neared the
flying beast, which had folded its long blue wings, he saw that there were two
saddles on the pteridon. The forward saddle held a Myrmidon ranker. The second
saddle was empty, because Colonel Dainyl had dismounted and stood waiting for
Mykel.

With no messages from
Captain Mykel on Octdi, nor by two glasses after morning muster on Novdi,
Dainyl was concerned. The Cadmian scouts had reported more of the remaining
forces of the various seltyrs had joined and were withdrawing into the rugged
country to the north of the guano mine. None of the scouts had gathered any
information to indicate where Fifteenth Company was or where it might be
headed.

The mine was back in
operation, and guano was being carted down to the port, but that would last
only so long as the seltyrs’ forces remained to the north and east of the
mine—or if they were destroyed.

Dainyl stood in the
study that had belonged to the late Majer Herryf, considering his options. He
had to agree with Captain Mykel’s feelings that delay in dealing with the
rebels was unwise—that was how the overcaptain had presented it—but Dainyl
would have appreciated some message as to how the captain was proceeding. Then…
could Dohark—and the captain himself—have overestimated Mykel’s abilities and
underestimated those of the rebels? That had already occurred with two other
Cadmian captains—and landers did have a tendency to think they were more able
than they in fact were.

There was a knock at
the study door.

Dainyl turned to see
Captain Meryst standing there.

“Submarshal, sir?”

Dainyl motioned for
him to enter. Meryst did, his eyes reluctantly meeting those of the Myrmidon.
Dainyl could sense the apprehension there.

“You have something
to tell me, Captain?” Dainyl remained standing, looking down at the junior
officer.

“Yes, sir.” Meryst
squared his shoulders slightly. “We got some information from one of the squad
leaders. His younger brother brought it this morning.”

Dainyl waited.

“A company of
Cadmians rode into the grounds of the grower Fhezart yesterday afternoon. There
were some men in blue there. The Cadmians pulled up into a line and began
shooting. Then they rode after those who hadn’t been shot and cut them down
with sabres. After that, they burned the place.”

“All the buildings?”
asked Dainyl.

Ah… no, sir. Just the
villa. They left the other buildings. They took all the weapons and ammunition
and some supplies and put them in their wagons. Then they rode off. They left
the bodies where they fell.“

“Captain Mykel, I
would say. Where is this grower located?”

“East-southeast of
Enstyla, forty vingts from here.”

Dainyl nodded.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“People are going to
be upset at that. You just don’t ride in and shoot people.”

The Submarshal tilted
his head slightly. He said nothing.

Meryst shifted his
weight from one boot to the other and back again. He did not speak.

After the silence had
drawn out, Dainyl cleared his throat. “Let me see if I understand the reasoning
behind this. The locals revolt against the Code and against the Duarches. They
obtain contraband weapons, and they ambush and destroy two companies of
Cadmians. They use some sort of subterfuge to poison and kill a third of the
Cadmians in the compound. Then they assault the compound. Captain Mykel follows
some of them, catches them off guard, and shoots them. He rides down others and
kills them, too. He does not burn the entire estate, but only the villa
belonging to those who sheltered the rebels. What the rebels did was
acceptable, but what he did is not? Can you explain that to me, Captain?”

“They feel that they
are defending their land, sir.” Meryst stiffened.

“Convenient
rationale,” Dainyl replied dryly. “Buy or take the land from those who once had
it. Because you now hold it, that entitles you to revolt against those who made
having the land possible, and to use any method at all. Those who are upholding
the Code, of course, can only attack the armed men who are revolting under
certain ‘honorable’ conditions.” He looked hard at Meryst. “Dramur would not
exist were it not for the Duarches. The seltyrs would have nothing. The Code
makes that quite clear. They have broken the Code. They are not entitled to
even the consideration that Captain Mykel has offered. I strongly suggest that
you recall that, Captain.” Dainyl forced himself to relax and to smile
understandingly. “I appreciate the information, and I very much appreciate your
conveying it to me. I realize that, as someone raised here in Dramur, this
entire revolt places you in a most difficult situation. It puts us all in that
situation, in different ways, and I trust you understand that. You do not wish
to be involved in this. Neither do I, Captain. I ask you to remember one thing.
All the seltyrs had to do… was nothing. No one was taking anything from them.
No one raised their tariffs. The only real problem was that prisoners were
escaping from the mine.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now”—Dainyl
shrugged—“we have to do the best we can, and the best course is to crush
resistance as quickly and absolutely as possible. Unless the seltyrs surrender
unconditionally and immediately, I intend to do so.”

“They will not do
that, sir.”

“That is
unfortunate.” Dainyl nodded. “Thank you, again.”

“Yes, sir. By your
leave, sir.”

“You may go.”

Dainyl watched the
captain leave. He could sense the anger and the frustration, but nothing Dainyl
could have said would have eliminated either. What bothered Dainyl most was the
fact that he’d had to mislead the captain. Either the Highest or the marshal
had appealed to the greed and fear of the seltyrs and arranged for them to
receive contraband weapons, suggesting that they would need them. With the
arrival of Majer Vaclyn and his heavy-handed ways, the seltyrs began to
prepare, and the Cadmians had reacted to that. In turn, the seltyrs had reacted
to the Cadmians, and now Dainyl had no options but to finish what Captain Mykel
had begun—because he certainly couldn’t reveal the duplicity and schemes of the
marshal and the Highest. Not and survive. There was also no point in revealing
those schemes until he was in a position to do something about them, because,
until he had some power over the marshal and the Highest, or some hard proof to
submit to the Duarches, all he would accomplish would be his own demise.

His lips tightened.
After a moment, he shook his head. He walked to the peg on the wall, took down
his flying jacket, and donned it, walking quickly from the study and the
headquarters building out into the courtyard.

Quelyt was waiting
beside his pteridon, the one wearing the second saddle for the day, since he
had the duty. “Submarshal?”

“Are you ready to
fly?”

“Yes, sir. Where to?”
After a pause, the Myrmidon asked, “Do you need us both?”

“Not today. We’ll see
if we can find our missing Cadmian company. Yesterday, they were some forty vingts
to the northeast. They’ll be moving to the northwest.”

“Anything we’re
looking for?”

“When we get to the
northeast, a burned out villa. There won’t be much smoke. It was burned
yesterday.”

“Could be some,”
Quelyt suggested. “It’s clear enough we might be able to see it.” He finished
checking the saddles and harnesses, then slipped into the forward saddle.

Dainyl mounted behind
him and adjusted the straps.

With a burst of
Talent energy, the pteridon leapt into the light wind, wings spread, and began
to climb, barely clearing the eastern wall of the compound. Quelyt continued
eastward directly into the wind for another vingt before turning northward.

As the pteridon
carried the two Myrmidons northward, Dainyl studied the narrow roads. There
were no large groups of riders on the roads, no lines of wagons, no large
pillars of smoke climbing skyward, and no Talent-sense of the ancients—or of
anything else except the pteridon. He couldn’t help but worry about the ancient
soarers. With only an understrength Cadmian battalion and two pteridons, if he
were to put down the revolt quickly, he didn’t need any interference from the
soarers.

After slightly more
than a glass, Dainyl caught sight of a black patch in an open area, farther to
the east than the course on which he had directed Quelyt.

“To the right!” he
called forward. ‘To that black spot.“

The pteridon made a
gentle, banked turn eastward. The crystal beak pointed directly at the black
spot. As they drew nearer, Dainyl could see faint lines of thin smoke still
rising from the blackened mass. He could also see that only one building had
been burned.

“Follow the road to
the east of the burned villa—the one that heads north.”

Again, Quelyt turned
the pteridon.

They had traced the
course of the road, at an altitude of around two hundred yards, for less than a
half glass when Dainyl sensed Talent, the same sort of greenish force that he
associated with the ancients—yet it was not the same, not exactly. The
Talent-trace vanished before he could pinpoint it, although it was generally to
the northwest.

“Turn more to the
northwest.”

“Coming northwest,
sir.”

Another quarter glass
passed before Quelyt turned in his saddle. “Fighting up ahead, sir. South side
of that long valley.”

“Drop a little and
get your lance ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

The pteridon lost
another hundred yards and continued | westward almost down the center of the
valley that the Cad-mians had patrolled for the arms smugglers. Below to the
left was the road that ran along the top of the bluff forming the south side of
the valley.

Dainyl sensed another
flash of greenish Talent, far closer, and he leaned to the left, studying the
road, making out two mounted forces. Even from two hundred yards above, Dainyl
could make out the difference in uniforms between the maroon and gray of the
Cadmians and the bright blue and green of the rebels.

“A little lower!”

As Quelyt swept down,
Dainyl could see that whatever the Cadmians had done, the rebels were getting
the worst of it and were breaking off the fight. J

“Circle back and
flame the riders in blue, the ones riding I eastward and trying to escape!” I

“Yes, sir!” A grim
satisfaction filled Quelyt’s voice. I

Dainyl could also see
a handful of rebels riding west- I ward, but those would have to wait. i

The pteridon banked steeply
and dropped into a dive, centering itself on the road and coming down to less
than fifty yards above the road as Quelyt aimed the skylance.

A long burst of blue
flame flared over the more than two squads of riders, and then the pteridon was
past the section of road that held only soot and ashes.

“There were some
rebels headed west,” Dainyl said.

“We can get them,
too.”

This time Quelyt
climbed slightly before bringing the pteridon into another tightly banked turn
that brought the pteridon onto a westward heading. They swept over the Cadmians
and in moments were closing on the fleeing rebels. A quick burst from the
skylance was enough.

“Now what, sir?”

“Can you set us down
somewhere west of the Cadmians?”

“Need a wider place,
sir. Let’s see.”

Yet another tight
turn followed.

“Right at the road
junction,” Quelyt finally said. “Plenty of room there.”

The pteridon flared
and landed on the road. A brief cloud of dust rose, then began to settle.

“You stay mounted.
Keep the skylance ready,” Dainyl ordered. “I need to talk to the captain.”

“We can do that,
Submarshal.”

Dainyl unfastened the
harnesses and dropped to the road. His legs buckled slightly for a moment. He
supposed he’d never again get as used to flying as he had been as a full time
flying Myrmidon. After stepping well away from Quelyt and the pteridon, Dainyl
waited for the captain. He kept a pleasant smile on his face as Captain Mykel
rode toward him, hard as it was. The bare hint of a greenish aura surrounded
the captain, the unmistakable sign of emerging Talent. Stronger Talent would
have blared forth or been hidden behind shields. He should deal with the
captain immediately, or soon, at least.

Yet… Mykel was the
only captain in the battalion who seemed to know what he was doing and who was
able to do it. Dainyl had been ordered to end the revolt quickly, and ending it
would take longer, perhaps far longer, without the captain.

Mykel reined up a
good three yards back from the sub-marshal. He inclined his head in respect.
His uniform was bloody, and one arm was roughly bound.

“Captain Mykel.”

“Colonel…” The
captain paused. “I’m sorry, sir… have you… do the stars mean you’re a marshal?”

“Submarshal.”

“Yes, sir.
Submarshal.”

“You seem to have
been most effective in dealing with the rebels,” Dainyl offered.

“You and the pteridon
were more effective, sir.”

“It’s going to take
both Myrmidons and Cadmians. I heard that you attacked a company yesterday
while they were in bivouac on an estate. Was that report accurate?”

“There were two
companies. We killed more than a company. The rest scattered. I had the villa
burned. Not the outbuildings. That would have hurt the retainers more than
anyone else.”

“Was pursuing the
rebels your idea or Overcaptain Dohark’s?”

Mykel smiled
uneasily. “I requested permission to undertake the pursuit after they had
attacked the compound. Overcaptain Dohark granted my request.”

“With some
trepidation, I would wager.” Dainyl laughed.

“Sir… you’d have to
ask the overcaptain about that.”

“I did. He was
worried about losing Fifteenth Company. Did you think about that?”

“Yes, sir. Every time
we’ve lost badly has been when we fought on their terms. Sitting and waiting
would have been fighting on their terms.”

“What would you
suggest now, Captain?”