Darknesses (38 page)

O
n
Octdi morning,
Alucius woke early, his stomach growling. Not wanting to
wait for someone to tell him how and where to eat, he washed up and dressed
quickly, then set out to see if he could find someone who could tell him where
the officers’ mess might be—or where he could get something to eat.

He
decided to ask the formal guards stationed by the staircase, walking right up
to the pair and looking directly at the older one. “Where is the officers’
mess—or where I could get some breakfast?”

“Ah…that’s
on the first level, sir, halfway down the west end. They’ll serve for another
glass.”

“Thank
you.”

“Yes,
sir.”

There
was a brief conversation behind him, but so low that Alucius could not pick it
up without obviously stopping and eavesdropping. Finding the officers’ mess was
easy. Alucius just followed two young captains, if discreetly, and stepped up
to the long table behind which stood several orderlies. He listened, then, when
the others had taken their ale and platters, stepped up and ordered, “I’d like
egg toast, with the ham and biscuits. And the ale.”

The
nearest orderly looked at Alucius’s uniform. “Ah…Overcaptain?”

“That’s
right, Northern Guard. Here on orders.”

“Just
a moment, sir.” As he had with the captains, the trooper filled the platter and
handed it to Alucius with a beaker of ale.

“Thank
you.” As Alucius stepped away with the platter of egg toast, ham strips, and
some sort of biscuits and gravy, he could hear the conversation behind him.

“Don’t
know if he…”

“What
does it matter? ’Sides, if he’s the one, you want to tell him no?”

With
a faint smile, Alucius looked over the officers, then picked a graying
overcaptain sitting by himself.

“Would
you mind if I joined you?”

The
overcaptain appeared startled, then grinned. “No, I’d be most pleased. I didn’t
think any of us would get to talk with you. You are the one who took on the
nomads in Deforya?”

“Alucius—that’s
me.” He slipped into the chair across from the older officer.

“Paerkl,
that’s me. I’m here temporarily to provide information to the mapping
engineers.”

“Mapping
engineers?”

“They
rotate companies to do recon in places where we don’t have good maps. See if we
can find anything left from the Cataclysm—roads, artifacts—and then we bring
back information. So I’ve got a week to go over all my drawings and maps, and
then it’s back to Hyalt.”

Alucius
nodded, his mouth full of egg toast.

“Is
all that true about the nomads having more than a hundred companies and
pteridons?”

“Don’t
know about everything people are saying. They had over a hundred companies and
pteridons. There were maybe twenty-five companies of Deforyan Lancers, and we
had five companies. One Southern Guard, four Northern Guard, and Majer
Draspyr—Southern Guard—was in command.”

“Draspyr?
Was he the one who disobeyed Submarshal Frynkel and broke the mercs at
Southgate?”

“I’d
never met the majer before, and he didn’t talk about what he’d done before.”
Alucius tried to recall Draspyr’s appearance. “Fairly tall, blond, scar across
one cheek.”

“That’s
Draspyr. Or was. He didn’t make it, did he?”

“We
lost more than half the troopers, half the officers. He was one of those they
got. We came back with less than two companies out of five.” Alucius took a
swallow of ale.

“And
you were the senior officer left?”

Alucius
nodded again.

Paerkl
shook his head. “Pteridons, you said? You have any idea where they got those?”

“If
anyone knew, they never told me. The Deforyans didn’t believe that the nomads
had them—not until they flamed a couple of squads.”

“That
must have been something.”

“Not
something I’d like to do again.” Alucius paused, then said, “We rode here from
Dekhron, through Borlan and Krost. Seemed like all the posts were
understrength. Is that because of the Southgate campaign?”

“Mostly.
It’s over three hundred vingts from our old border with Madrien to Southgate.
Built up the fort at Zalt, but to hold the high road takes fifteen companies.
Minimum. Doesn’t count the push they’re making toward Fola.” Paerkl frowned,
momentarily. “You stopped at Krost, at the post there?”

“We
did.”

“Was
Captain-Colonel Jesopyr there?”

“He
was. He’s the post commander, is he not?”

“For
the moment. He’s got enough time for a stipend. Imagine he’ll be honored at the
arms-commander’s next awards dinner in Tempre. Good man. Liked serving with
him. Old style. Appreciates a talented enemy more than an inept friend. He’s
also not one who tells you what you want to hear, then slips a knife into your
gut while hugging you.”

“There
are always those kinds. We had some in the militia before we became the
Northern Guard. More worried about a half-silver than a trooper’s life.”

Paerkl
shook his head, then took a last sip from his beaker of ale. “The fewer the
better.”

“Did
you ever run across a Majer Ebuin?”

Paerkl’s
slight stiffening told Alucius more than the overcaptain’s words. “He’s the
number two at Borlan. Under Captain-Colonel Yermyn. They think alike, I’m told.
Don’t know either personally.”

“Even
after he said something,” Alucius offered, “I couldn’t be sure what he meant.
But he was most courteous.”

“Courteous.
Good word.” Paerkl eased back his chair. “Glad to see you, and hope everything
goes well. Lord-Protector ought to give you some sort of reward. Good to see
that a fighting officer gets recognized. Doesn’t happen enough.” Then, with a
smile, Overcaptain Paerkl was gone.

No
one joined Alucius as he finished his breakfast. Nor did anyone approach him as
he walked back up to his quarters. He debated going exploring, but he had no
idea where to look for what—or even what he might need to find. He also
suspected that, before long, someone would be looking for him.

About
that, he was right. A young captain Alucius did not recognize was pacing back
and forth in the corridor outside Alucius’s quarters.

“Overcaptain
Alucius?”

“Yes?”

“I’m
Captain Deen. Majer Keiryn detailed me to be your aide while you’re here in
Tempre.” The captain offered an embarrassed smile, and the expression matched
his inner chagrin. “But I didn’t get the orders until this morning.”

“It’s
not a problem. I was hungry and went and found the officers’ mess.”

“Ah…which
one?”

“The
one on the first level. I followed some captains.”

“Ah…we’ll
need to show you the one for senior officers. That’s where they expect you.
It’s on the other side of the first level. When you weren’t here…I checked with
them, but they hadn’t seen you.”

“I
had a solid breakfast,” Alucius said.

“That’s
good. You’ll likely have a busy few days here in Tempre.”

Alucius
raised his eyebrows.

“Captain-Colonel
Omaryk—he’s the head of the planning staff—he has requested that you brief him
on the nomads, and on the abilities of the Landarch’s forces, as well as on the
high road through the Upper Spine Mountains. Then, Captain-Colonel Dytryl—he’s
mapping—has you scheduled for two glasses this afternoon. And, of course,
you’re the guest at the senior officers’ dinner at midday…”

“My
orders mentioned the Lord-Protector…” Alucius ventured.

“Oh,
yes. That’s on Londi. He doesn’t have audiences on the end days, and he
couldn’t possibly meet with you until you’ve briefed everyone, and on Decdi the
arms-commander is having you to his residence. Submarshal Frynkel wanted to
meet you privately, and having you two to supper was the easiest way to handle
that over the end days. He said that you had valuable knowledge about the
southwest highway and the Matrites…”

One
thing that the Lord-Protector was getting was information. But was that all?

Alucius
would just have to see.

Prosp,
Lustrea

T
he
man in the uniform
of a Praetorian engineer worked quickly on the device
laid out on the makeshift workbench. He stood in the harvest warmth of the
workroom outside the chamber that held the first newly built Table of the
Recorders in more than a millennium.

The
device resembled an antique gunpowder pistol in general shape, but the design
was far more ancient, with the barrel a crystal discharge formulator, and the
butt holding the crystal light-charges. The engineer’s fingers moved deftly,
and he silently finished his work, screwing the plates that doubled as
handgrips and light collectors into place. Then he straightened and slipped the
weapon into the holster on his left side.

He
walked toward the archway into the chamber that held the Table, nodding at the
Praetorian Guard who stood at the outer doorway.

As
Vestor shut the door to the Table chamber, the sound of masons and carpenters
working on finishing the rooms in the outer circle died away. He walked to the
single table desk set against the wall and lifted several sheets of parchment
from it. Then he turned. His eyes ranged over the the waist-high black lorken
cube as he stepped from the desk and up to the Table. There he looked down at
the mirror surface and concentrated.

The
ruby mists swirled, then dropped away, revealing the face of an
alabaster-skinned and violet-eyed man, who smiled.

Vestor
nodded, then set the first sheet of parchment on the surface of the table. It
vanished. He repeated the process with the second and third sheets. After the
third sheet vanished, he stepped back and took a deep breath, then blotted his
sweating forehead. His entire body shivered, and his chest was heaving as
though he had run a vingt at full speed. A moment passed, and he walked slowly
to the stool beside the table desk, where he seated himself.

All
the images that had appeared in the Table had also vanished, leaving a clear
mirror that reflected the heavy beams overhead.

A
lucius
walked quickly toward his quarters,
half-listening to Captain Deen.

“…and
when the logistics staff was reorganized—that was because Majer-colonel
Hurgenyr took his stipend right before the Lord-Protector’s father died—his
successor there thought I might be of more use on the mapping staff. But
Captain-Colonel Dytryl doesn’t want any junior officers on the staff, just
cartographers and older junior officers who came up through the ranks and who
have been stationed all over Lanachrona…Luckily, Marshal Wyerl thought I’d be
useful to Majer Keiryn…”

“I’m
sure you’re quite valuable in making sure that officers like me and others get
where they’re supposed to be—”

“That’s
what Keiryn said just the other day, even gave thanks to the One Who Is, but
you know that it’s really a privilege to be on staff here at headquarters. My
father’s pleased. You know he was a majer-colonel in charge of river logistics,
and my cousin, well, really, my father’s cousin’s daughter, she’s the
Lord-Protector’s wife and consort. We all keep hoping it won’t be too long
before she has a son. Anyway, the majer even said it would be a shame to send
me out to a company…”

Alucius
opened the door and stepped into the foyer of his quarters. “If you’d just wait
here in the foyer. I’ll only be a moment. I need to gather some notes.”
Escaping to the bedchamber, Alucius closed the door behind him and took a deep
breath. Then he checked his saddlebags for the few notes on his travels that
had survived and might be of interest and use when he was briefed—or debriefed
by Captain-Colonel Omaryk.

As
he straightened up, he glanced out the twin bedchamber windows, catching sight
of the Lord-Protector’s palace.

He
paused, sensing something he had not sensed in a while, and really looked at
the palace. The feel of the purple-tinged blackness flowing upward from
somewhere in the Lord-Protector’s palace was so clear that he wondered why he
hadn’t felt it before. Because he hadn’t been looking? Because he’d been
preoccupied and hurried from place to place?

He
took a long look, concentrating. The blackness had the same evil overtones as
had the pinkish purpleness that had come from the crystal in the Matrial’s
residence. Was that why he had been warned in Dereka? Was the Lord-Protector
like the Matrial?

Even
as Alucius watched, the blackness faded. So, he reflected, whatever caused that
sense of evil was not continuous the way the purple crystal had been. But that
made it even harder to determine what to do. He couldn’t very well watch the
palace every moment, especially not when he was meeting with so many officers,
then gallop over there, even with his concealment abilities, and try to find
who or what was creating the purplish black.

With
a deep breath, he slipped the few sheets he had inside his tunic and turned to
rejoin Captain Deen.

The
captain was waiting, smiling, in the foyer. “That didn’t take long,
Overcaptain. Now, we’re headed down to the planning staff. That’s
Captain-Colonel Omaryk…was one of the first appointments that the new
Lord-Protector made, that is after Marshal Slayern’s unfortunate death and
after stipending off Marshal Retyln, when he chose Marshal Wyerl as
arms-commander…then brought Omaryk from Borlan…”

Alucius
tried to listen intently as he accompanied the young captain down to the second
level and eastward along the main corridor.

Within
moments, Alucius was stepping into a small conference room.

Captain-Colonel
Omaryk was rail-thin, with freckles, and a long face. He nodded to the empty
chair across from him. “Please have a seat, Overcaptain. This is Majer Kurelyn.
He heads one of the analytical sections. He also writes well and quickly.” A
faint smile crossed Omaryk’s face.

Alucius
seated himself and waited.

“Let’s
dispense with unnecessary formalities. As I understand your background, you
have traveled the midroad from Soulend through the Westerhills, and the
innercoast road all the way south to Zalt. You are also familiar with the
southwest high road from the former Lanachronan border to Zalt. Your latest
duties carried you from Senelmyr to Dereka, then south to the end of the
Barrier Range, and then back to Salaan and thence to here. You are well
familiarized with Matrite training and tactics, and you are possibly more familiar
with the tactics and capabilities of both the Illegean nomads and the Deforyan
Lancers than any other officer in Lanachrona. Are those reasonably correct
suppositions?”

“With
some qualifications, sir.”

“What
are those qualifications?”

“There
may have been other officers who have been to Dereka, sir. I’m not familiar
with them, but I just don’t know.”

“What
about the Matrites?”

“I’m
more familiar with their tactics and training than anyone in the Northern
Guard. I don’t know about the Southern Guard.”

“That’s
better…” Omaryk paused. “Were you ever debriefed on the Matrites by your
superiors in the Northern Guard?”

“Only
by Colonel Clyon. I don’t know what he did with the information.”

“Neither
do we. Let’s begin with the Deforyan Lancers. First, I’d like your overall
impressions of the Lancers and your understanding of their command structure.”

“According
to what I was told by various officers, the Deforyan Lancers consisted of
twenty-five companies…” Alucius went on to report everything that he had
learned or overheard, but not necessarily all that he had surmised.

“You’re
suggesting that the Deforyan Lancers are overofficered, and that the abilities
of those officers are marginal at best.”

“Yes,
sir. That might be charitable.”

“Do
you have any examples of why you think this is so?”

“When
we were at Black Ridge…” Alucius explained the retreat of the Deforyans and
their abandonment of the cooks.

“You
don’t think that was a wise decision?”

“No,
sir. We would have had to retreat in time, but we had a superior physical
position, from which we could inflict greater casualties. Had the Deforyans
done what they had stated, they could have inflicted even heavier losses on the
nomads when they tried to reach the main road. The Lancers made no effort, but
hurried back to Deforya. Then they let themselves be encircled in the main
battle.”

“You
were not encircled?”

“No,
sir. Their attack was massive, but not tight. I ordered my troopers into a
tight wedge, and we fought through their forces, then regrouped and cut hundreds
of them down from behind. They also disregarded even the reports from their own
officers about the pteridons.”

“And
what happened?”

“The
nomads encircled them, and then the pteridons flamed the center of the
Deforyans, and cut down the outside until we could bring down the pteridons and
break through the encirclement.” That was generally true, if simplistic,
Alucius felt.

“You’ve
simplified that some, I believe, Overcaptain.” The faint smile crossed Omaryk’s
face. “Since you’re not the question, however, we’ll go on. What orders did you
or the Deforyan companies receive prior to the attack outside Dereka?”

“We
were lined up on the ring road, but there were never any direct orders given
once the attack began. So I took the initiative.”

“None?”

“No,
sir.”

From
there the questions became more and more detailed, dealing with everything from
Deforyan marksmanship to the numbers of captains and overcaptains, and their
backgrounds, even with the officers’ café and the roads and aqueducts serving
Dereka, and the placement of orchards and fountains along the high road.