Alector's Choice (60 page)

Dainyl nodded again.
“I can see the wisdom in that.”

“I thought you would.
Give my best to Lystrana, and do not strain yourself too much until you are
more recovered.”

Dainyl maintained a
pleasant smile on his face until he was well away from the Hall of Justice.

Mykel had barely
finished stabling the chestnut and hauling his gear to his room in the
officers’ quarters in the Cadmian headquarters compound in Elcien when he
turned to find a senior squad leader standing at the door.

“Captain Mykel, sir?”

“Yes?”

“Colonel Herolt would
like to see you, sir. At your earliest convenience.”

Mykel set down his
gear. He might as well see what the colonel wanted. It had been a long day,
already, after five days at sea, and a tedious unloading of all the mounts and
men remaining from Third Battalion, although far shorter, unfortunately, than
the loading out had been when they had left Elcien more than two seasons
before.

“If you’d follow me,
sir.”

Mykel followed the senior
squad leader across the courtyard and into the headquarters building, then to
the door of the colonel’s study, which had been left open.

“Captain Mykel,
reporting as requested, sir.”

Colonel Herolt, with
his iron gray hair and black eyes, looked up. “Come in and close the door,
Captain.” He motioned for Mykel to seat himself.

“Captain—or should I
say, Majer?—I have a report here from the Submarshal of Myrmidons, with an
endorsement from the High Alector of Justice.”

“Yes, sir?” Mykel
allowed himself to look puzzled.

“Do you know the
Submarshal of Myrmidons?”

“Submarshal Dainyl,
sir? Yes, sir. He took command of all operations in Dramur, sir.”

“How well do you know
him?”

“Not well at all,
sir. I saw him preside over a court-martial, and I briefed him on Fifteenth
Company operations—it couldn’t have been more than three or four times. I could
check on that, but that’s what I recall. He was injured in the last battle in
Dramur, and Fifteenth Company recovered him and provided cover.”

“You and Majer Dohark
most clearly impressed him.” The colonel stared at Mykel.

Mykel met the
colonel’s eyes. After dealing with the Submarshal, the colonel seemed far less
intimidating.

“I don’t like
promoting junior officers too soon. I like being ordered to do so even less. On
the other hand, both Majer Dohark’s reports and the Submarshal’s indicate that
your conduct and your accomplishments were all that stood between a successful
revolt and the destruction of the entire battalion.”

Mykel waited, sensing
that it was best to say nothing.

“I can see a certain
calmness and responsibility that was not there a half year ago. It might even
be enough to get you through.” Herolt sighed. “You understand that, once Third
Battalion is back to full strength and retraining is finished, you will be
ordered to handle the most challenging and unpleasant assignments?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you understand
why?”

“Yes, sir. To prove
that Third Battalion will receive no special favors or easy assignments, and
that any officer who receives early promotion not only earned that promotion,
but will have to continue to prove that it was earned.”

“Majer… what do you
intend to do with your senior squad leader?”

“Make him the
battalion senior squad leader, with particular emphasis on training and
retraining.”

“You would not
recommend him as an undercaptain?”

“No, sir.”

“Are there others who
might be considered in the future?”

“Chyndylt, the third
squad leader, would make a solid senior squad leader for Fifteenth Company. He
might make a good undercaptain, but I’d want to see him with greater
responsibility first.”

A faint smile
appeared on the colonel’s face. He extended a small cloth pouch. “Here are your
insignia, Majer. For all of our sakes, I wish you well. You will have to
continue in command of Fifteenth Company, as well, for several weeks, until we
determine your captains or undercaptains.”

“Yes, sir.” Mykel
took the pouch.

“Majer… I am curious
about one thing.”

“Sir?”

“Does a guano mine
smell as bad as everyone says?”

Mykel laughed.

After a moment, so did
the colonel.

For all the towering
halls of the Duarch’s palace in Elcien, Dainyl was escorted into a
comparatively small library, six yards wide and twelve in length. Oak shelves
filled with volumes lined all the inside walls, while the outside wall held
smaller sections of shelves set between the narrow floor to ceiling windows
overlooking the southern sunken garden.

The Duarch sat behind
a desk piled high with books. Even seated, he was a towering presence, with
shimmering black hair and deep violet eyes. Talent radiated from him. As he
caught sight of Dainyl, he smiled, but did not stand. When Dainyl bowed, he
could feel a warmth issue from the older alector.

“Submarshal, I am
pleased that you could come to brief me on what has happened in Dramur. Please
sit down. Both the High Alector of Justice and Marshal Shastylt have spoken in
glowing terms about your success there.”

“We did what was
necessary, Most High.” Dainyl took the chair toward which the Duarch had
gestured.

“I trust that there
was not too great a loss of lifeforce?”

“More than I would
have liked,” Dainyl admitted. “Over a thousand rebels, and half of the Third
Cadmian Battalion.”

“That is not good.”
The Duarch frowned. “Not good at all. We must be making all possible efforts to
expand lifeforce so that we will be ready to host the Master Scepter. The
Archon must choose Acorus. We have accomplished so very much under the most
adverse of conditions, and for that, he must find us the worthy ones, as we
are.” A broad smile appeared, then vanished. “All is judged on lifeforce mass,
yet today’s measurement does not always reflect what it will be tomorrow or
next year. Nor what a world will be or could be.”

Dainyl kept his own
expression pleasant and waited.

“The marshal tried to
explain why there was a revolt, but I must confess that his explanation lacked
a certain… cohesiveness. There is enough food; there is enough shelter; and
there seemed to be enough golds to satisfy the greedier of the landers. We had
neither increased levies on the seltyrs nor imposed greater controls on them.
Ingratitude, while universal, does not provoke rebellion.” Another warm smile
followed his words. “Could you make it clearer?”

“I will try.” Sensing
the more pointed feelings concealed by the smile, and the danger of being
caught between the Duarch and the High Alector of Justice, Dainyl composed
himself. “The landers and indigens are split into two areas, those east of the
mountains and those to the west. The guano mine is on the east side of the
mountains, and the golds that come from it go to those in the town and some of
the eastern seltyrs. For reasons that remain unclear, all the seltyrs decided
that they needed weapons—”

“Unclear to whom?”

“To me, Most High. I
talked to a number of those close to the seltyrs, and all suggested that they
believed that an unarmed seltyr is without honor. This is a belief that has
existed for some time, but has never been reported. Why, I have not been able
to discover.”

“Go on.”

The seltyrs used
golds to persuade smugglers to bring them Cadmian rifles…“

“Who permitted that?”
The Duarch’s voice turned cold, and a perceptible chill filled the library.

Dainyl could sense a
strong Talent force, as strong as that of the High Alector of Justice, if not
stronger. “No one, as I understand it. They paid the smugglers to bribe an
assistant engineer to divert weapons reported as flawed and scrapped. He was
punished and executed, but not before the rifles and ammunition had been
shipped to the seltyrs.”

“Always the golds.
The landers and indigens, they think of nothing but golds, nothing at all. The
steers are worse than spoiled children. Acorus would have long since died
without us, and they cannot see that. Pardon me, Submarshal. Please continue.”
The sense of chill dispersed, although the Duarch did not smile.

Dainyl went on to
describe what had happened, in plain terms, with the first attack by Seltyr
Ubarjyr, then the sniping at the Cadmians and the uprising by the Jyohans.

“You did not impose
discipline?”

“I was ordered to
observe only, unless the Cadmians failed…” Dainyl went on to explain the
increasingly erratic behavior of Majer Vaclyn as well as the lack of
understanding by Majer Herryf. “… Once I assumed command, under the conditions
laid down by the marshal, immediate discipline had to wait until the military
situation was resolved, because the Cadmians were under attack by more than
twenty companies of the seltyrs. Despite being vastly outnumbered, and with
only two pteridons, we crushed the revolt. Once that was accomplished, we restructured
the Cadmian command in Dramur so that the local commander will be able to
control matters in a fashion that will not destroy any more lifeforce.”

“That is right.” The
Duarch nodded, then looked at Dainyl. “Do you think that they truly believed that
they could prevail? Against the Myrmidons?” An expression of calculation
dominated the Duarch’s face, especially the violet eyes that darkened. “You did
not mention the lost pteridons.”

“Both pteridons were
lost. That is true. Two of the ancients appeared just as the pteridons attacked
the last of the rebels.”

“You did not wish to
mention that?” The Duarch’s pleasant smile dropped away, and Dainyl could sense
a chill coldness.

“I admit that I did
not,” Dainyl admitted. “I had not realized that the ancients were present so
far south, or that they were so powerful, and that was my oversight and
failure.” At the word “failure,” Dainyl could sense the coldness projected by
the Duarch vanish, and that mystified him.

The Duarch laughed,
once, a sound that mixed rue and humor. “You are the first Submarshal—or
Marshal—ever to enter this study and admit that he failed at something.” After
a moment of silence, he asked, “Are there other failures you might admit?”

“I am certain that
there are aspects of what happened in Dramur that I could have handled better,
Most High. Unfortunately. I don’t have the range of knowledge that you and the
High Alector of Justice have. So I doubt I could identify what those might be.”

“You’re sounding like
Shastylt. Please don’t. As for the failure to tell you about the ancients and
pteridons, that is something that I will take up with the marshal directly.”

Dainyl didn’t like
that at all.

“Oh… I won’t mention
you. We’ve lost too many suddenly, and you couldn’t have had anything to do with
that. Please continue.”

Dainyl decided to
risk more directness. “I still don’t really know what sparked this revolt. We
stopped it, and we’ve taken steps that I think will preclude it from happening
again, but I could be mistaken.”

“We all could. For all
that, you have not told me everything, Submarshal.”

“No, Most High. We
would be here for days were I to do that. I will be happy to answer any
questions you may have, now or in the future, or to provide more details about
anything.”

“At least you are more
honest than many. What else should I know?”

“I would say that the
revolt shows that we face a delicate balance between the need to keep from
spending lifeforce and in maintaining order among the landers and indigens.
They will easily squander lifeforce as though it meant nothing, because to them
it means nothing. They think only of either amassing golds or controlling other
landers and indigens. If we do not step in, as we did in Dramur, they could
easily destroy more lifeforce than we did. Yet to keep them from doing worse,
we also spend more lifeforce than we would prefer, especially with the transfer
of the master scepter not that many years away. Yet we cannot explain the
importance of lifeforce in a fashion that would mean anything to the landers and
indigens, not without revealing our own needs and vulnerabilities.”

The Duarch’s face
twisted, and Dainyl could sense… something… a conflict… but that vanished
within a fraction of an instant.

“Yes, that has always
been a difficulty, and yet, we must prepare for the transfer, whatever the
cost, because if we do not receive the Master Scepter, our future will be in
the hands of those on Efra, and they calculate even more than those who claim
to serve me. You have told me what I need to know.” There was a sense of
sadness, followed by another smile and more warmth. “I understand that you and
Lystrana are expecting a child.”

“Yes, Most High.”
Dainyl wondered exactly what the Duarch had needed to know, but he wasn’t about
to ask. He was relieved to have gotten through the briefing.

“A wonderful thing.
Wonderful. She will be old enough to behold the transfer of the Master
Scepter.” The sense of chill returned. “Do be careful in what you believe of
Shastylt and Zelyert, Dainyl. They do not see everything, although they think
they do. Be most careful.” Another smile appeared, with the same warmth as
earlier. “You may go. Thank you.”

Dainyl stood and
bowed. “I am at your command, Most High.”

“So you are.”

Dainyl stepped toward
the library door, and it opened. Two alector guards appeared, walking beside
him, escorting him back to the entry foyer, with its high-arched dome, as they
had escorted him from it. He felt like running, but he kept walking, flanked by
the silent guards. The palace, for the first time in all the years he had been
in it, felt confining, as though the walls would fall in upon him.