Darknesses (5 page)

Lyterna,
Illegea

D
eep
within the Vault of Lyterna,
two men stood before the wall—a creation
that few had seen over the past millennium, and one that fewer still would have
believed could exist, for it was both a relief sculpture and a mural, the
brilliant and varied colors seeping from within the very stone, rather than
having been painted over the marble. Yet the wall appeared to have been carved
from a single block of stone, for there were no lines that revealed joints.

The
scene depicted a squadron of twenty Myrmidons, each of the ancient enforcers of
justice seated upon his blue-winged pteridon, each pteridon flying below high
clouds, each pteridon’s beak of glittering blue crystal, and each Myrmidon
carrying a blue metal skylance. From each lance, a ray of blue light shone down
upon the ranks of an army drawn up upon the grasslands. And flames created by
those rays of blue light were consuming all the soldiers of that massive army.

The
younger man—the white-blond man in blue—studied the wall silently for a time
before speaking. “It is truly a work of art. So lifelike. So perfect. One could
imagine it had been created yesterday.”

“It
represents what was…and what might yet be, Aellyan Edyss,” replied the
white-haired councilor and guardian of the Vault. “If you have the will to make
it so.”

“If
I have the will?” Edyss’s voice was not shrill, nor querulous, but inquiring,
not quite humorously. “How should I present my will, then, to make it so?”

“Address
your desire to the wall, Aellyan Edyss, as directly as you can.”

The
younger man squared his shoulders and, eyes open, looked directly at the
ancient flight leader of the Myrmidons. He did not speak, but his figure
shimmered, silver-clad.

Abruptly,
a section of the wall silently swung back, revealing a passageway.

Edyss
looked at the dark opening, then at the older man. “A test?”

“All
life is a test.”

The
warleader inclined his head to the councilor. “If you would, Councilor?”

The
older man stepped through the oblong opening a yard wide and two high, and the
nomad warleader followed. Once Edyss had passed the opening, it closed behind
him, and the two walked in total darkness for a moment, until the councilor
flicked on a light-torch and then handed a second to the younger man.

At
the end of a marble-walled passage—also without seams—the two stepped into a
vast dark hall. Edyss pointed his light-torch upward. The narrow beam revealed
a smooth and flat stone ceiling, without detail, that looked to be more than
forty yards above. He turned the beam to the right wall, playing it slowly away
from him. The wall appeared to consist of featureless blue-tinged marble,
within which were set at regular intervals a series of recesses, each roughly
ten yards wide. Set back in each recess a yard was a flat expanse of what
appeared to be blue crystal. The crystal rose but five yards, and the space
above the crystal was empty all the way up to the high stone ceiling.

“If
I might ask…Honored Councilor?”

“It
is the Hall of the Last Myrmidons—or the first.” The white-haired man’s steps
echoed softly in the vastness as he turned toward the first recess on the
right.

Without
questioning, Edyss followed, until the two stood before the flat crystal.

“Shine
the light-torch and see what you will see.”

Aellyan
Edyss turned the light-torch upon the crystal wall. The crystal had looked far
darker in the dimness and from a distance, but it was almost clear, and only
lightly shaded with the merest hint of blue. On the left side was a small
alcove, set into the crystal itself, an alcove roughly the shape of a man, but
without any figure inside. Farther back in the solid blue crystalline mist,
embedded within it, was a shape, one with massive blue leathery wings folded
back, and with a long cruel blue crystal beak. The eyes were also of blue
crystal, and they glittered like gemstones—or the blued crystals that had
powered the lost skylances of the original Myrmidons. For all their glitter,
for all their stillness, they held a dark intelligence. Set just below the
thick neck and above the shoulders that anchored the wings was a blue leather
saddle.

“Is
this a mausoleum?”

“No.
Just before the Cataclysm, the head of the Myrmidons created this. The crystal
blocks the passage of time, of anything. When the crystal is dissolved, the
pteridon will be as alive as it ever was, waiting for his new master and rider.”

“How
do I release them?” Edyss turned to the councilor.

“You
must agree to bind yourself to the pteridon, as its master and rider, for so
long as you both shall live. That is all.”

“And
none have agreed to do that?”

“None
have united both Illegea and Ongelya before you, and there has been no need. As
the guardians of the grasslands, and the protector of the Vault, we do not wish
to see Lyterna fall under the Praetor and the iron bootheels of Lustrea—or the
Lord-Protector of Lanachrona. There may be another such as you, but he has not
come forward to claim the heritage, and you have.”

Another
item caught the attention of Edyss. “Is that…a skylance of the Myrmidons?” He
gestured to the shimmering blue length of metal set in a holder beside the
arrested figure of the pteridon.

The
white-haired guardian smiled. “It is. Each skylance can only be borne and used
by the pteridon’s rider. It draws its power from the sun and the world, but the
ancient texts state that it will take several weeks to regain its full
potency.”

“What
of…” Edyss frowned. “Do pteridons mate?”

“The
texts are silent on that, but I would judge that they do not, but are creatures
created by the ancients from beyond.”

“Not
by the Duarches or their minions?”

“The
Duarches used what they found, and they used it as wisely as they knew how, but
most was a legacy from the ancients. All that has endured is what they created
anew—the high roads, a few buildings—”

“Except
for these pteridons,” Edyss stated. “Are there any more?”

“Not
that we know. Just these twenty. You must use them wisely.”

“I
will do what I can. That is all any man can do.”

“That
is what the Legacy requires.” The councilor raised his hand. “We do not have
all the words of the Legacy, but these are those we do have.” He cleared his
throat and stated,

“In those ages, then,
will rise a leader,

who would reclaim the
glory of the past,

and more, as he would
see it, in the sun,

to make sure the dual
scepter will always last.”

“Is
there more?” asked Edyss, honest curiosity in his voice.

“There
is, but we do not know those words. They were writ in the stone, once, there.”
The councilor pointed his light-torch back to the wall above the passageway
through which they had entered the hall. “But long before we found this hall
the words of the two stanzas below the ones I recited were chiseled away. It is
said that the Legacy was a long work, with sections chiseled and spread all
over Corus, so that none would know all the words until Corus was once more
united.”

Aellyan
Edyss smiled. “Then we must begin.” He walked toward the man-shaped alcove. “Is
this the one for the leader?”

“It
is.”

Aellyan
Edyss stepped into the alcove, and the crystal block embracing the pteridon and
the skylance began to glow.

The
councilor swallowed and watched as the crystal shimmered, then dissolved into a
thick blue mist.

I
n
the chill of a Sexdi morning,
in the darkness two glasses before dawn,
the two squads rode quietly eastward from Emal, hoofs sometimes clicking on the
frozen clay, at other times crunching and packing the new snow that would have
been hoof deep, had it fallen more gently. Instead, the wind had swirled the
dry white powder into knee-high drifts in places, and left the road clear in
others. The gale that had buffeted Emal earlier in the week had died down to a
light but bitter wind out of the northwest, with but a hint of the
iron-acridness of the Aerlal Plateau.

While
he was wearing the fleece and nightsilk undervest, Alucius still wished he had
on his nightsilk skull mask. Instead, he wore the heavy black wool scarf and
carried two rifles, a perquisite of being the captain, since he knew that he’d
have little time to reload in the darkness—if they found the raiders.

The
patrol on Tridi had found nothing, not even any signs of tracks, nor had those
on Quattri and Quinti, but Alucius had decided that Twenty-first Company would
keep searching until they found those who had been traveling the back roads.
The patrols would also keep the company alert—and those troopers who weren’t
patrolling on a given day thankful for the comparative warmth and rest.

The
two squads with Alucius were second and third squads, and Anslym and Faisyn
rode beside Alucius, Faisyn on the left, Anslym on the right. The column was
already almost ten vingts east of Emal, within two or three vingts of the
hamlet of Tuuler. On the south side of the road, down a gradual slope, was the
River Vedra, its frozen surface also covered intermittently with swirled
snowdrifts.

Through
a darkness illuminated slightly more than normal by the half-disc of Selena,
Alucius continued to scan the road ahead, the frozen river, and the
snow-covered bottomland fields to his left—both with his eyes and his
Talent-senses.

“You
think we’ll find raiders this time, sir?” asked Anslym in a low voice.

“Sooner
or later,” Alucius replied. “Even if we don’t, the men will learn what a winter
campaign is all about.” He paused, then added, “Why do they need that? Most
everyone’s time will be up by next winter, but that won’t hold if the Iron
Valleys get attacked. The Council will extend terms and conscript more
recruits, and probably a third of your senior troopers will get pushed into
being squad leaders in other companies.”

“The
way things are going,” Faisyn said quietly, “that wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Because
the Council has reduced the number of companies in the militia?” asked Anslym.

“They’ve
always done that,” Alucius said. “Troopers cost coins. If the Council had
funded a militia large enough to warn off the Lanachronans, much higher tariffs
would have fallen on the large traders in Dekhron. Since the Council is largely
formed of such traders, the Council would not have passed an increase in
tariffs that took many coins from the larger merchants. If the Council tariffed
the small crafters and holds, they wouldn’t have the coins to buy the goods of
the large merchants. Either way, the merchants and traders who control the
Council lose coins.”

“There’s
another thing,” Faisyn pointed out. “Conscripts don’t get paid much for the
first year.”

“So…the
Council waits until everyone knows there’s a problem, then conscripts more
troopers?” concluded Anslym.

“And
they hope that the experienced companies can hold off whoever attacks until
they can train and bring in more conscripts,” Faisyn said. “That’s why the
colonel could persuade the Council to keep Twenty-first Company. Our pay is
less than that of any other company with as much experience.”

“We’re
about to earn it,” Alucius pointed out. In the stillness and the winter cold,
his Talent reached farther, and he’d been sensing something ahead. He’d finally
been able to determine that somewhere ahead were riders—more than the ten to
fifteen whose tracks Twenty-first Company had seen almost a week earlier.
“There’s a hint of mist or fog over the river to the east, and I think there
are tracks there. I can’t be sure yet, but I think we’re going to run into
those riders.” Alucius looked through the dimness first at Anslym, then at
Faisyn.

“What
do you want us to do?” asked Faisyn.

“We’re
less than a vingt from Tuuler. You know the back lane on the north side of the
town?” Alucius asked the older squad leader. “The one that goes to the north
and right below the bluff?”

“Yes,
sir.”

“You
take third squad on that lane. It joins the river road about a vingt east of
the hamlet. It’s likely the raiders will probably have passed you coming west
by the time you get there. If there are tracks on the river road showing that,
you turn west and follow them. You’ll need to be ready. If they haven’t reached
you, you wait well back until they do pass, or until we come east on the river
road. We’ll set up an ambush in Tuuler. If we’re successful, the stragglers
should come back toward you. If you can, make sure none of them escape.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Alucius
turned in the saddle toward Anslym. “We’ll take second squad into Tuuler—all
the way through the hamlet to the eastern side, just short of the low rises on
the road there. Half the squad will set up with you on the southwest side, and
the other half will be with me. There’s enough snow that the raiders should
stand out against the white, even before dawn. We’ll set up an angled cross
fire and charge them.” Alucius smiled, grimly, although he doubted either man
could fully see his expression in the dimness.

“Charge—”
Anslym broke off his involuntary exclamation.

“There
are two possibilities,” Alucius replied. “They’re truly raiders, and they’ll
ravage our people. Or they’re someone else’s troopers posing as raiders. If we
can catch them by surprise, do you think it’s a good idea to let either one
go?” He paused. “I’m going up to talk to the scouts.” Alucius urged Wildebeast
forward.

Behind
him, Faisyn laughed, softly. “That’s what captains are for, Anslym. That’s what
they get the golds for. If he’s wrong, he has to face the colonel. Even if he’s
right, and I’d never wager against him, he’ll have to explain.”

As
he drew his mount up toward the two scouts acting as the vanguard, Alucius knew
that Faisyn had said what he normally wouldn’t, in an effort to make things
clear to the younger squad leader before they encountered the raiders.

“Sir?”
asked the younger scout as he saw Alucius ease up beside him.

“Karstyn,
I want you to move out to a good vingt on the main road. Be quiet. We’ve got
reports of raiders, and there are signs that they may have crossed the river.
If you see or hear anything, move back here, but silently. If you don’t hear
anything, wait for us at the crossroads in the middle of Tuuler, and watch all
the dwellings and shops.”

“Yes,
sir.”

“Waris…Squad
Leader Faisyn will tell you where he wants you to go. Third squad will be
circling north of Tuuler. Check with him.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Alucius
turned Wildebeast and headed back toward the main column, swinging back in
ahead of the two squad leaders. After Faisyn passed his instructions to Waris,
and the scout headed out, Faisyn and Anslym and their squads rode silently
behind Alucius, the only sounds those of hoofs on stone or frozen clay, and the
occasional
whuff
of a mount.

Another
quarter glass passed before second squad reached the first holding on the
western side of Tuuler. Alucius turned. “Faisyn…the lane heading north around
Tuuler is just ahead. Swing off from the rear when we pass.”

“Yes,
sir.” With a raised hand, the older squad leader turned his mount back toward
third squad.

After
he passed the lane, Alucius looked back several times, as if to make sure of
the squad’s movements, although he Talent-sensed the departure of third squad
as clearly as if he had seen it in broad daylight.

“Anslym.”
Alucius motioned for the squad leader to join him.

“Sir.”

“You
remember the drills on single targeting? We’re going to do that here. Your
men—you’ll take the right file, and I’ll take the left one—will be lined up in
a partly concealed position on the southwest side of the road. Your troopers
are each to take aim at a different raider, the northernmost trooper to the
northernmost raider. If they’re in a double column, they’re to fire at both men
in that rank, the nearer one first. We’ll be firing from more of an angle, but
we’ll be doing the same thing. Pass the word, then report back. Make it clear.
We won’t have time to go over this later.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Second
squad was nearing the crossroads that served as a square and center of Tuuler
before Anslym rejoined Alucius.

“All
set, sir.”

“Good.”

Karstyn
appeared out of the dimness, riding toward the two at the head of the column.
“Sir…all quiet, except at the shop on the left ahead. They’re up awful early.”

Even
more than a glass before dawn, Alucius could see glimmers of light through the
shutters of the small shop that served Tuuler as a dry goods store, factorum,
and chandlery, glimmers that indicated lamps had been lit. He could also sense
that at least two people were awake in the shop. “Too early for honest work.
Anyone out? Any riders?”

“No,
sir.”

“Good…and
thank you. Fall in behind us, for now.” Through his Talent, with second squad
far closer to the raiders, Alucius could discern that the strangers were riding
in a double column, with even files and ranks, trooper-style. That alone told
him that they weren’t common raiders, if they were raiders at all.

Past
the center of Tuuler, the scattered dwellings were dark, and Alucius could
smell only the faintest hint of woodsmoke or coal smoke, a good sign that those
in the houses had not yet risen.

On
the eastern side of the hamlet, the road followed the river, curving slightly
south, rising ever so sightly, just enough to conceal riders on either side.
The oncoming raiders were less than two vingts away.

Alucius
leaned toward Anslym. “You see that orchard there on the right? Station a
trooper beside each tree, as close to it as he can get while mounted. They
won’t be able to see the orchard because of the rise to the south, not until
they get within about a quarter of a vingt. But don’t have your troopers fire until
I give the order.”

“Yes,
sir.”

“Rifles
ready, Anslym. Pass the word.”

“Rifles
ready…”

“Now…right
file with you, left with me.”

“Second
squad, left file, to the captain. Right file to me,” Anslym ordered.

“Second
squad, left file, follow me,” Alucius commanded.

The
nine troopers followed Alucius off the road and toward a low shed. He reined up
behind the shed and went down the line, explaining.

“We’ll
wait behind the shed until the last moment. Then, at my command, we’ll ride out
and do a quick wheel and fire, single-target style, first man at their first
rank, second at their second…”

“Yes,
sir.”

Alucius
stationed himself at the head of the single file, where he could remain mounted
and appear to be peering around the corner of wooden shed. To the left of the
single file, to the north and toward the Plateau, another hundred yards away,
was a house, but he doubted that those inside, even if they heard and saw the
troopers, would be likely to raise any alarm.

Before
long, the faint sound of hoofs slipped through the darkness, a sound Alucius
alone could hear, and a confirmation of what his Talent-senses had already
revealed.

“Stand
ready,” he hissed.

Another
fraction of a glass passed, and the raiders neared the orchard.

“Column
forward.” Alucius kept his voice low, waiting until all his troopers were clear
of the shed. “Wheel in place. Second squad! Fire at will!” Alucius projected
both his voice and a sense of command.

The
chill air cracked apart under the almost simultaneous volleys from the north
and southwest of the road. The militia force fired a good three volleys before
a single lighter series of
cracks
came from the
raiders.

As
the voids of death and the agony of the wounded raiders swept over Alucius, a
grim smile flicked across his lips. The glass after glass of training had
clearly paid off.

“Withdraw!
Back!” The command was in the Lanachronan dialect. That scarcely surprised
Alucius.

Once
he was certain that the raiders had turned, he eased Wildebeast back toward the
road.

“Second
Squad! Re-form!”

“Re-form
on the captain!”

Alucius
quickly reloaded with the speed of long practice and habit. Still, quick as the
squad was, the last of the surviving raiders had vanished over the crest of the
river road before second squad began the pursuit. That was fine with Alucius.
There was no sense in riding into the volleys from third squad.

As
second squad rode past the ambush site, Alucius made a quick and rough count of
the dead—ten or eleven, and one raider dying. Once they dealt with the
remaining raiders, they’d have to return and claim mounts and weapons, and deal
with the bodies.

Less
than two vingts past the rise, there was a swirl of men and mounts, outlined
against the snow of the bottomland fields, with the sound of metal against
metal and only a few reports from rifles. Most of those still mounted were the
militia troopers, but the remaining raiders fought with a quiet ferocity.

“Sabres
at the ready!” Alucius ordered. “Charge!” He had his own sabre in his left
hand, although he was equally adept with it in either hand, unlike the rifle,
where firing left-handed was definitely superior.