Scepters (26 page)

“You
think that these duarchists have any connection with the Regent, sir?”

“I
don’t know,” Alucius replied, “but I’m sure that the Matrites will take
advantage of them any way possible. At the very least, I’d guess their weapons
are coming through Madrien. I don’t see where else they could come from.”

“Could
be more lancers or troopers in Hyalt than you’ve heard,” suggested Jultyr.

“That’s
why we won’t be heading all the way to Hyalt. We’ll take some of the back roads
and circle around the town. We need to see what we can find out before we
decide on a final strategy.”

“Sir…
how soon in that match before you knew you were a better blade than Majer
Fedosyr?”

“I
had some doubts about his ability,” Alucius said slowly, “when I heard that he
was opposed to using rattan wands.”

“He
never meant it as a practice match.”

“No.”

“You
knew that?”

“Not
for certain until I saw his sabre. Then it was pretty clear. He had it polished
and the edge ground to razor sharpness. That’s a duelist’s blade, not a working
lancer’s blade. Then, I had my doubts he’d ever really been a working lancer.”
Alucius forced a laugh. “I haven’t spent as much time in the field as you and
Feran have, but I know that, and that’s why I try to listen to experienced
officers and squad leaders. But all the years I have spent in service have been
in the field. I’m sure you notice which senior officers understand and which
don’t.”

For
the first time, Jultyr laughed, softly and briefly. “Yes, sir.”

Alucius
continued to ask gentle questions, continually reminding himself to allow the
captain time to reply and not to hurry him, trying also not to say too much
about his own past.

Tempre, Lanachrona

In
the indirect light of late afternoon, the three marshals sat in straight-backed
chairs upholstered in deep blue and trimmed in gold. Facing them across the
severe dark oak table desk was the Lord-Protector. The polished desktop was
bare.

“Why
don’t we know what is happening in Hyalt?” The Lord-Protector’s eyes traveled
from marshal to marshal, from Frynkel to Wyerl to Alyniat, before snapping back
to the arms-commander.

“We
have no recent information, sir,” admitted Wyerl.

“No
one has left Hyalt since the last of the traders and their families fled almost
a season ago,” added the blond Marshal Alyniat. “Not that we’ve been able to
find, under the circumstances.”

“And
you have sent no scouts?”

“We
sent several,” Wyerl said slowly. “None of them returned. While we would have
preferred to provide Majer Alucius with more information, it seemed imprudent
to keep sending men to their deaths for nothing. We have few enough good scouts
remaining as it is.”

“You
expect me to believe that no one has left Hyalt? In a season?”

“They
have blocked the roads, sir, and fortified those points. We told you that when
we discovered that had occurred. You told us not to send lancers to tear down
the barricades, but to leave that to Majer Alucius.” Wyerl glanced toward
Frynkel.

“Majer
Alucius has yet to reach Hyalt,” offered the balding marshal. “He is within a
day or two of the city, I would judge.” Both eyes blinked rapidly for a moment,
and Frynkel pressed the side of his palm against the right one.

“We
guess… we judge.” The Lord-Protector snorted. “We assume, but we do not
know
. How can we prevail when we know so little? We have
no Table. Your scouts cannot tell us what is happening in our own land, and
they cannot reach us with what is happening in Madrien until it is too late to
do anything.”

“That
is true, sir,” Wyerl replied. “Very true.”

“I
am supposed to rule without information? You are supposed to decide where our
lancers should be when we do not know where our enemies may be or how many of
them may be where?”

“We
know where the Regent’s forces are,” Alyniat pointed out, “and how many she
brings to bear in each area.”

The
Lord-Protector ignored the statement and turned to Wyerl. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow,
unless you wish it otherwise, sir.”

“All
I wish is your success—and that of Majer Alucius—so that we may return
Lanachrona to a land of not only prosperity, but peace.”

“Majer
Alucius is most likely to be outnumbered, sir,” Frynkel said quietly. “He could
be badly overmatched.”

“Thankfully,
that has not been a problem for him in the past, and we must hope that it will
not be one now,” Wyerl commented. “He has a very different style.”

“I
do not see it as different,” replied the Lord-Protector. “He fights only when
he must, and then he does his best to destroy all of the enemy so that he does
not have to fight them again. Had we been able to do that in Madrien, we would
not now be fretting about where and when the Regent will strike.”

None
of the three marshals responded, but waited for the Lord-Protector to speak
again.

After
the silence had dragged out, he stood. “If you would continue to keep me
informed… You may go.”

“Yes,
sir.” The three marshals rose as one.

After
they had left him alone in the study, the Lord-Protector turned and walked to
the window gazing to the northwest at the twin green towers, a legacy of the
Duarchy.

“Have
rulers always had to act knowing so little?” he mused half aloud into the empty
room.

There
was no answer.

For
another week—ten long days—Alucius and the three companies rode, almost due
west for the first five days. The next five days, they rode south on the
eternastone road that ran from Tempre in the north to Hyalt in the south. The
night after heading south, Alucius had once more dreamed about the chamber with
the walls closing in, and again he woke up sweating. Clearly he felt hemmed in,
but there was little enough he could do besides being aware and doing his best.

On
Quattri, just as the sun had almost reached its zenith, Alucius realized what
had been nagging at him for the past few glasses. They had seen no one heading
north the entire morning. Not a soul. While the road was supposedly less
traveled than many others, it was part of the trading “square” of high roads
that linked the five major cities in western Lanachrona.

On
either side of the high road was a vingt or so of low scrub brush, little of it
over knee-high. Each bush or plant was surrounded by an empty area of reddish
sand. To the east, the brush gradually gave way to rolling grasslands, but the
harvest tan grass was sparse, and in places the brownish red soil showed
through. To the west were hills that rose no more than fifty to a hundred yards
above the high road. A patchwork of reddish sand, brush, and junipers covered
the slopes.

The
last Southern Guard way station had been two days earlier, manned by but a half
squad, and Alucius had his scouts out not only on the eternastone road ahead
but also on the few side roads. Another set of scouts paralleled the main road,
riding through the scrub brush roughly half a vingt to each side. Not a single
scout had seen anyone since they had broken camp that morning.

“This
is a trading road, isn’t it?” Alucius asked Feran, riding beside him.

“They
say it is.”

“We
haven’t seen any traders or anyone at all. There were more people on the road
from Salaan to Dereka.”

“You’re
saying that there’s trouble ahead.” Feran laughed. “We knew that already.”

“It’s
not just trouble, but the kind of trouble. Everywhere else where I’ve been
around fighting, people move. Some flock in to make a quick coin, and some
flee. Marshal Frynkel couldn’t provide any information about this revolt. No
one has found out anything since the first traders fled, and that was more than
a season ago. Just how likely is that?”

“Likely
or not, honored Majer, that’s the way it is.”

“Exactly.
But it means we need to know more before we go charging into Hyalt.” Alucius
looked at the road ahead and the lancer scout who was headed back toward
Alucius at close to a gallop.

Alucius
turned to his left, looking at Dhaget, one of his three courier/ messengers. “Send
back word for all the companies to halt and have Captain Deotyr and Captain
Jultyr join me.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Alucius
turned back toward Feran. “Have Fifth Company halt and take a break.”

“Fifth
Company! Column halt!”

“Company
halt!” Egyl echoed Feran’s command.

Both
officers waited until Waris reined up short of them.

“Sir…
there’s a barricade ahead. It’s a pile of stones and logs on both sides of the
road, and a log set on a post so it can block the road. Troopers, or something
like ‘em, in maroon tunics.”

“Did
they see you?” asked Alucius.

“Don’t
think so, sir.”

“How
far ahead?”

“Three
vingts, give or take a few hundred yards.”

“How
many troopers were there?”

“Looked
to be a half squad or so. They had some merchant’s wagon. Didn’t see the
merchant, though. Also had maybe ten mounts saddled and ready to go.”

Alucius
frowned. “Call in the other scouts. Station them on the road a vingt to the
south to stand watch for now. Then report back here.”

“Yes,
sir.”

While
Alucius waited for the other two officers to join them, he took out the map
from the top of his left saddlebag and unfolded it, studying it and checking
distances, looking up and comparing what the map showed to what he saw, as he
had done periodically for the last several days.

“
Sir? “ offered Jultyr, riding up and halting on the edge of the road beyond
Feran.

“There’s
a roadblock ahead. When Deotyr gets here, we’ll go over the next steps.”

“Yes,
sir.” Jultyr nodded.

Within
moments, Deotyr reined up beside the other captain.

Alucius
lowered the map. “The scouts have reported a fortified roadblock about three
vingts ahead, with half a squad of mounted armsmen. There’s no way to tell yet
if they’re actually trained lancers. We could take this barricade, possibly
without many casualties. But we’d still be more than twenty vingts from Hyalt,
and they’d know that we were here. I’d rather they didn’t know until we’ve
learned more, and until we can make an attack with the advantage of surprise.

“We’re
going to head back north for about five vingts. We passed a road, more like a
trail, back there. It runs south between the hills just west of us and another
line of higher hills farther west. We’ll only take it far enough to find a good
bivouac. Then, we’ll start scouting in earnest. I’ll tell you now, but you also
need to make sure that the scouts know it. The Southern Guard lost a number of
scouts here. So, at first, I don’t want your men trying to get too close. I’d
rather have sketchy information than none.”

Deotyr
glanced to Jultyr, then back to Alucius.

“You
have a question, Captain Deotyr?”

“Not
exactly, sir. Ah… it’s just… wouldn’t they know the back roads?”

“I’m
certain that some of them do. But they’re expecting any lancers to come
straight down the road. The way the roadblock is set up, it’s not a defense
against a company of lancers. If there are any defenses, those defenses are
farther south. The barricade is set up so that even if we did manage to capture
everyone there, it would be obvious from a distance that it had been overrun. I’d
rather not announce our presence over a roadblock and ten or twenty men.”

“Ah,
yes, sir.”

“If
you’re right, Captain,” Alucius went on, “and you well may be, we could run
into larger forces on the back roads. Now… we know that they’re somewhere and
armed. Right now, do they know we’re here?”

“No,
sir, probably not, sir.”

“Not
yet, I hope,” Alucius replied. “So, if we run into another force on the back
roads, who has the advantage of surprise?”

Deotyr
nodded, if grudgingly.

“If
our scouts are good, we might even be able to set up an ambush for them.” And
if he and the companies were lucky, Alucius added to himself. “Twenty-eighth
Company will take the lead on the way back to the side road, and I’ll be riding
with you. Overcaptain Feran and Fifth Company will ride rearguard, just in case
we have been spotted. Once we find a defensible bivouac, we’ll send out scouts,
possibly for several days.”

Alucius’s
eyes went from officer to officer, ending with Deotyr. “Is that clear?”

“Yes,
sir.”

“Then
let’s get moving.” Alucius gestured to Waris, who had reined up a good five
yards away. “Is there any sign of the rebels?”

“No,
sir. Everyone’s where you ordered.”

“Have
half of them hang back and watch the rear, and you and Elbard move up with us.
We’re going north, then west. After you tell the other two, you two join up
with me, and I’ll brief you on what we need.”

“Yes,
sir.” Waris eased his mount away.

At
least, the scouts weren’t second-guessing him. Alucius kept a smile on his face
as he turned the gray and rode back along the road with Captain Deotyr.

Alustre, Lustrea

The
slightly stocky, dark-haired traveler, flanked by two Praetorian guards, bowed
to the man who sat in the unadorned silver chair on the dais. “Honored Praetor
Tyren.”

“You
provided most interesting materials, stranger.”

“Waleryn,
Praetor. Lord Waleryn of Lanachrona.”

“Why
are you here?”

“Because
my brother fears me, and a ruler who fears his brother is not one that it is
wise to remain close beside.”

“And
I should trust a man who would betray his brother? If indeed you are that man.”