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Authors: L. E. Modesitt

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BOOK: Scepters
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“With
so many companies in the southwest, I thought that might be the case.” Alucius
dismounted, somewhat stiffly.

“Do
you need—”

“I’m
just stiff from riding.” Alucius was stiff from riding, but his ribs were also
bothering him, and the brace on his forearm, under his sleeve and riding
jacket, was chafing his skin.

“I
should tell you that the ceremony will be one glass after morning muster on
Duadi—at the rear portico. It won’t take that long, and regular travel uniforms
are appropriate, but your men won’t need to saddle up. Just form on foot. If
you’d be there a quarter glass before they form up, I’ll let you know if there
are any changes.”

“That’s
fine. Is there anything else?”

“Not
right now, sir.”

Alucius
nodded and led the chestnut into the stables. When he had finished with
stabling and grooming the chestnut, more slowly than usual, he was the last to
join Feran and Captain Wasenyr outside the stable.

“I
took a moment to show the captains their quarters. I hope you—”

“That’s
fine,” Alucius said.

The
walk back to the main building was even longer than Alucius recalled,
especially carrying his own gear. Once inside the main building, Wasenyr led
the way up a wide stone staircase. “Both of your quarters are on the third level.
Yours are on the east end, Overcaptain Feran, and yours are on the west end,
Colonel. We’ll get the colonel settled first, if you don’t mind, sir,” Wasenyr
said to Feran.

“That
would be best.” Feran grinned at Alucius.

Alucius
wondered if he’d get the same quarters he’d had before.

At
the third level, they turned left, past a pair of Southern Guards with blue
braid on their shoulders, similar to that worn by Wasenyr. Wasenyr stopped at
the next-to-last set of double doors. He opened the door with a shining brass
key and handed it to Alucius.

The
foyer inside was tiled in blue and gold. Through a square archway was a sitting
room ten yards in width and fifteen in length, the long side containing three
wide windows that opened on a view of the Lord-Protector’s golden cream palace.
In the sitting room were a dark blue upholstered settee, two matching
armchairs, a carved cherry desk set against the north wall, with an equally
imposing and matching carved desk chair. Five wall lamps were spaced around the
chamber. In the center of the floor was a dark blue carpet bearing a design of
intertwined eight-pointed green stars outlined in gold.

Alucius
could see that the quarters were a mirror image of those where he had stayed
before, with few differences in furnishings or decor.

“The
bedchamber is over here…”

The
bedchamber was small only by comparison to the sitting room. It also had a view
of the palace, with a high triple-width bed and two matching armoires. Alucius
set down his saddlebags and laid the rifles on the weapons rack most
gratefully. Beyond the bedchamber was the bath chamber. The tub there was
carved out of a single marble block, with two spigots of shimmering bronze.

“I
assume you’d like your uniforms cleaned. If you let one of the orderlies know
after you get back from supper tonight, they can have them cleaned and pressed
before noon tomorrow.”

“That
would be helpful,” Alucius said politely.

“Majer
Keiryn will escort you to dinner in about two glasses.” Wasenyr glanced around.
“I believe… is there anything… ?”

“No.
You’ve been most helpful.” Alucius turned to Feran. The overcaptain’s face held
a bemused expression. “I’ll see you then. I’m sure your quarters will be
similar to these.”

“Oh,
yes, sir. Almost the same, except his look out to the east.”

Once
the two had left, Alucius walked back into the bath chamber and turned one of
the spigots, hoping the water was at least warmish. It was warm, but not hot.

He
took his time bathing and cleaning up, and laying out clothes to be cleaned
later. After a season on the road, he intended to take full advantage of the
amenities available.

Majer
Keiryn—the same Keiryn who had accomplished the same task once before, tall and
redheaded—arrived almost exactly two glasses later, accompanied by Feran.
Keiryn escorted them down two levels and to the eastern end of the headquarters
building to the exact same private dining room where Alucius had dined three
years earlier with Wyerl and Alyniat. The single circular table was covered in
a shimmering white linen, with blue linen napkins. Each of the four places was
set with silver cutlery, platters and plates of cream porcelain rimmed in gold
and blue, and with two goblets set before each of the four diners. On a side
table were several bottles of wine in the amber bottles.

“Marshal
Frynkel should be joining us shortly.” Keiryn paused.

“He’s
the only one in Tempre right now?” asked Alucius. “The only marshal?”

“Yes,
sir. Really one of the few senior officers here. Marshal Alyniat took most of
the senior colonels, too. You’re probably the third-ranking officer in Tempre
right now, behind Marshal Frynkel and Majer-colonel Dytryl.”

And the youngest colonel in Lanachrona
, Alucius reflected…
so long as he held the rank.

“The
marshals aren’t promoting many majers to colonel?” asked Feran.

Keiryn
frowned, tilting his head slightly, pausing before he replied, “No. I think
Colonel Alucius is the only promotion I know of in the last year. I know that
Marshal Frynkel noted that when he received the dispatch from Marshal Alyniat.”
Keiryn offered an embarrassed smile. “I shouldn’t have mentioned that, but… it
is true.”

“I’m
sorry I’m late,” came a voice from the doorway as Frynkel stepped into the
small dining room. “I lost track of time.” The marshal smiled as warmly as
Alucius had seen. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you both, especially
you, Colonel.”

Alucius
could sense that, pleased as Frynkel was, the marshal seemed almost more
relieved than pleased.

“I
had to send a message to the Lord-Protector confirming your safe arrival and
telling him about the ceremony on Duadi.” Frynkel gestured to the table. “Please
be seated.”

As
soon as the four officers were gathered around the table, a single orderly
appeared and immediately poured a pale amber wine from one of the bottles into
the smaller goblet in front of each officer.

Frynkel
lifted his goblet. “To our guests.”

“With
our gratitude for your hospitality,” Alucius replied, lifting his own goblet.
Feran lifted his as well.

The
orderly vanished, then reappeared to set a small plate atop the one before each
diner. On the small plate was a pastry no more than the width of three fingers.

“Cavern
mushrooms in pastry. Very delicate and tasty,” offered Frynkel, taking a bite
after speaking.

Alucius
wasn’t sure that he didn’t like the flaky pastry better than the filling, but
even the mushrooms were better than cactus or prickle.

Frynkel
began to speak. He did not look directly at Alucius. “I’ll need to meet with
you tomorrow, Alucius, but that’s almost a formality. Still… debriefings are one
of those necessities.” He smiled. “It’s a pity, in some ways, that you’re here
in winter. You’re used to colder winters than ours, of course, but the gardens
aren’t in bloom, and the river’s far too cold for sailing…”

To
Alucius, it was more than clear that Frynkel was both fulfilling a duty and
avoiding discussing anything bearing on what had happened in Hyalt or around
Southgate. Given Alucius’s own tiredness and sore muscles, that was probably
just as well.

He
sipped the wine and listened.

Chapter 101

Slightly
after midmorning on Lundi, Alucius sat in a comfortable wooden armchair on the
other side of a table desk, behind which sat Marshal Frynkel.

Frynkel
looked across the desk at Alucius. Once again, his eyes were dark-rimmed, and
the right one twitched. Absently, the marshal pressed against it with the side
of his palm. “You’ll be meeting with the Lord-Protector at the fourth glass
past noon tomorrow. Captain Wasenyr will escort you.”

“Yes,
sir.”

“It
was his request. He has been most impressed with your accomplishments.” Frynkel
paused. “For all that you did, we’re far from winning the war against the
Regent of the Matrial. I gather you understand that.”

“We’ve
regained the territory that was lost. Perhaps more,” suggested Alucius.

“The
Regent of the Matrial is still a problem. We suggested a truce. She refused.
Her answer was that she will continue to fight until Southgate and all of the
south and Harmony and all of the north are returned. She also demanded ten
thousand golds in reparations, to be paid immediately.”

“Madrien
never held Southgate.”

“That
doesn’t seem to matter to her,” Frynkel paused. “What do you know about this
Regent?”

“Almost
nothing.”

“We
know less than you do,” Frynkel said. “That’s even if you know nothing beyond
your time in Madrien. She was a marshal named Sulythya, and everyone else
decided to obey her. We don’t know why. Do you?”

“You
know I escaped Madrien when the Matrial vanished and the torques failed. The
Regent or someone under her has managed to re-power some of those torques.”

Frynkel
fixed his eyes on Alucius. The tic in his right eye twitched more rapidly. “That’s
something you know as a herder?”

Alucius
nodded. “If I get close to them, I can feel them.”

“Could
she repower them all?”

“I
don’t know,” Alucius admitted. “It took me by surprise.”

“Hmmm.”
Frynkel frowned. “Does Marshal Alyniat know this?”

“He
might. He might not. I didn’t recognize what the feeling was until I was on the
way back to Tempre,” lied Alucius. “So I thought I’d tell you.”

“Convenient,”
suggested Frynkel.

“You
have to remember that I wasn’t in very good shape after those battles, and I
wasn’t thinking my best,” Alucius pointed out. “We did destroy the crystal
spear-throwers.”

“Yes…
Marshal Alyniat did note my circumspection in giving you only verbal orders for
that,” replied the marshal.

“I
thought that our best efforts would be to handle what the regular Southern
Guard could not, sir.”

“Your
initiative was commendable.” Frynkel’s laugh was almost a bark. “You’ll be
better off in Dekhron, Colonel.”

“If
that is what the Lord-Protector wishes, Marshal.”

“I
doubt any of us
wish
that, Colonel. We all recognize
that your presence in Dekhron is necessary so long as Madrien remains a threat.”

Both
Lanachrona and Madrien were threats to the Iron Valleys, Alucius thought, but
Madrien was the greater and more immediate danger. “Is that the only threat?”

“Candidly…
no,” admitted Frynkel. “We’ve received reports that the young Praetor of
Lustrea is rebuilding his forces. It’s likely that he will make an effort to
annex Deforya within the next year or so. Or the grasslands of Illegea and
Ongelya—or all three.”

“If
he chooses to do so, and the Lord-Protector does not send any support, he will
succeed.”

“Do
you think we should aid Deforya?”

“Not
so long as the landowners hold power. They cannot control the people except
through water and fear, and they will not spend the coins necessary for an
effective fighting force. Nor will that force ever be well commanded.”

“Water?
How does that control the people?”

“All
the water in Deforya comes from the great ancient aqueducts. Whoever holds the
aqueducts controls the water. Without water…” The point was obvious to Alucius,
so obvious that he’d seen it as a fresh overcaptain years before.

“I’m
glad to know that you agree with the Lord-Protectors decisions.”

“I
did not know the Lord-Protector’s decision,” Alucius said mildly, wondering why
Frynkel had such an edge behind his questions. “How could I? I only know what I
saw when I was there.”

“You
took a great deal upon yourself,” Frynkel suggested.

Alucius
did not reply for a time, considering. Finally, he replied. “I had few choices.
Even before I reported to Marshal Alyniat, there were colonels trying to order
me around, trying to waste my forces on what would have been useless attacks or
defenses.”

“Useless?
The defense of Southgate was useless?”

“No,
sir. Direct attacks on any force with a spear-thrower or any defenses against
one, unless you happen to be behind a thick stone wall, are useless.”

“And
you didn’t attack directly, Colonel?”

“No,
sir. We used stealth to obtain an explosive result.” What Alucius said was
true, but not in the way he hoped Frynkel would take it.

“How
did you manage that?”

“As
I wrote you, sir.”

Frynkel
pressed his twitching eye with his left hand. “Ah, yes. Your report. I should
get around to reading that.”

Alucius
was confused. Frynkel was lying about the report. But if he had read it, why
would he say he hadn’t?

“How
dangerous are you to the Lord-Protector?” questioned the marshal.

Alucius
laughed. “I’m not at all dangerous to him. He’s the only real chance we herders
have to keep our way of life.”

Frynkel
nodded. “How dangerous are you to the Southern Guard?”

“Not
at all. Though some senior officers might feel otherwise.”

“A
number apparently do. Colonel Hubar protested your highhanded actions. Colonel
Sarthat has demanded that you be stripped of rank and executed for assaulting a
senior officer.”

“I
never even raised a hand against the colonel,” Alucius said.

“He
claims you used some herder skill to throw him to the floor and break his nose.”

“Exactly
how many Matrites did Colonel Sarthat kill? How many crystal spear-throwers did
he destroy? How many bullets did he take?” Alucius’s words turned icy. “You
suggested, sir, that you and Marshal Alyniat and the Lord-Protector needed
results. You requested, and you promised. I kept my word. I delivered. How many
of those who have complained have delivered?” Alucius’s eyes blazed.

BOOK: Scepters
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