Scepters (52 page)

“Good?
No. Better than all the alternatives? Yes.”

“You’re
being so optimistic again, Colonel.” Feran’s voice dripped irony.

“I
have to be. The Regent has figured out how to power those silver torques, and
that’s worse than anything in Lanachrona.”

“If
only those idiot traders in Dekhron had been willing to spend a few thousand
more golds five years ago… I’d wager that they still don’t understand.”

“You’d
win. Most of them are dead, one way or another.”

“Figures.”
Feran snorted. “Left us alive with a mess to clean up.”

They
rode on for a vingt and a half before seeing another force ahead, seemingly
smaller than the first, but also hurrying southward.

An
overcaptain rode forward, took one look at Alucius and inclined his head. “Permission
to pass, single file, sir?”

“Permission
granted, overcaptain,” Alucius replied.

Alucius
kept track as the two sets of lancers passed each other, and from what he saw,
the overcaptain had two companies with him.

Over
the next two vingts, they saw no more Southern Guards, except for the scattered
handfuls on ring road patrol. By the time Alucius and his forces neared the
coastal high road, it was still early morning.

Even
from the west side of the road cut overlooking the high road, Alucius could tell
that the Southern Guard encampment was deserted, except for scattered riders
and wagons. Cook fires were out, and even the main road fort looked to have
fewer lancers around and within the courtyard.

“They’ve
sent most everyone south,” Feran suggested.

“Where
they’ll arrive tired and suffer unnecessary casualties.” Alucius stretched in
the saddle. “We’ll take a break for a glass. Make sure everyone eats and that
the mounts are fed and watered. If you and the captains can weasel or beg more
supplies quickly, do it.”

“You’re
not thinking… ?”

“I
still think we can pull out some sort of a victory, but it won’t be easy, and
finding supplies later is going to be tough.”

“Getting
them any way is tough.”

“That’s
true,” Alucius agreed. “Break for a glass. No more than a glass and a half.” He
reined up, trying not to think about what lay to the southeast.

While
the three companies had taken a break and the officers had worked at getting
more supplies, Alucius had gone to see if Marshal Alyniat had remained. But the
marshal had reportedly headed southeast to direct the battles there, leaving
but a junior captain and some messengers to relay information.

Still,
well before midmorning, Alucius and his lancers were back in the saddle again,
this time headed east toward the other high road and its fort. They’d found
little enough in the way of supplies, except travel bread and more cartridges
for the Southern Guards. Another fight or two, and Fifth Company would be out
of ammunition, but Alucius would have to worry about that later.

The
stillness of the early morning had given way to a cool wind out of the
southeast, a wind that, for all its mildness, carried a hint of late fall or
winter rawness. On the entire stretch of ring road between the two major road
forts, they passed no one, except the handful of sentries. Most of them looked
worried.

After
another break for rations and water at the eastern road fort, also largely
deserted, they crossed the southwest high road and followed the ring road as it
curved southward. To the southwest, Alucius could see thunderclouds building.
The storms did not seem to be moving eastward but were hanging over the coast
that he had yet to see.

“You
knew they wouldn’t attack the road forts, didn’t you?” Feran asked after a long
period of silence.

“I
didn’t
know
. I just thought it was unlikely. The
Matrites don’t usually fight as well, but in my experience they also don’t make
obviously stupid attacks. Attacking the road forts first would have been both
obvious and stupid.”

“Are
you trying to become arms-commander of all Lanachrona?” Feran’s tone was
humorous.

“Legacies,
no! I just want to get rid of the crystal spear-throwers and head back to the
Iron Valleys. Sooner rather than later.”

“And
what if the Lord-Protector has another one of his ‘requests’? He doesn’t seem
inclined to let us go that easily.”

Alucius
groaned. “It would have to be awfully convincing to make me stay… or ask Fifth
Company to.”

“I’ll
remind you of that… Colonel.”

“I
have no doubts about that,” Alucius replied.

“Good.”
Feran grinned, but the expression faded quickly.

They
rode south on the ring road for four glasses before reaching the southeast high
road and another near-deserted Southern Guard encampment. After a half-glass
break, they continued southward for close to another two glasses, to the
outskirts of an encampment centered on a small road fort—a circular stone
structure no more than ten yards in diameter and with walls not quite three
yards high.

A
young-faced captain was stationed north of the encampment, mounted, with two
lancers beside him. One held a thin sheaf of papers.

“Column,
halt!” Alucius ordered before riding forward, the late-afternoon sun slanting
into his eyes.

“Sir?”

“Colonel
Alucius, with the Fifth Northern Guard and Twenty-eighth and Thirty-fifth
Southern Guard.”

“Yes,
sir.” The captain looked at the lancer with the papers.

“Black.”

“The
black area is yours, Colonel. Straight ahead and then downhill to the right.
You’ll see the black banners on poles. There should be rations and water
barrels there.”

“Thank
you.”

After
they had passed the captain, Feran turned to Alucius. “I don’t like it when
they’ve got everything organized this way. It makes me feel like they’ve got a
surprise I won’t like. More than one.”

“They
probably do.”

“You’re
being optimistic again, Colonel.”

“Comes
from my cheerful nature.”

As
they headed down the long and gradual slope westward from the ring road,
following a path recently created by hundreds of mounts before them, both
officers could see the open space marked out with four poles, each with a strip
of black cloth. On a ground cloth were what looked to be some form of rations.
Five large barrels were also set out at intervals. A single Southern Guard was
stationed there.

Alucius
had barely reined up at the edge of the area, and had not even had a chance to
dismount, before he saw Roncar riding toward him. The lancer’s narrow face
showed both concern and relief. “Sir!”

“What
is it, Roncar?”

“Marshal
Alyniat wants to see you. Right now, sir.”

“Where
is he?”

“He’s
in the tent, sir, there on the hill, just below the fort. He said that he
wanted to see you as soon as you arrived.”

Alucius
turned the gray.

“Remember,
Colonel,” Feran called. “A very good reason.”

“I’ll
remember that, Overcaptain.”

Roncar
eased his mount up beside Alucius. “The Matrites are only about five vingts
south of here, sir. They hold the entire ring road from there to the ocean, and
they’ve been moving north a few hundred yards at a time. They’ve used the other
spear-thrower, and they haven’t lost many lancers. The marshal’s scouts say
that they haven’t moved toward the city, but they could at any time. After you
smashed the crystal spear-thrower in the west, the companies he sent west have
kept the ring road there, so there’s not much danger yet of being attacked from
the north and west on the ring road.”

“Thank
you. Do you know what the Southern Guard casualties are?”

“No
one’s saying, sir. Besides the two companies that they lost on the ridge, I’ve
heard words that Colonel Cyrosyr and his force of six companies had been wiped
out almost to the last man. Less than two squads remaining.”

That
didn’t surprise Alucius, but he had hoped that they wouldn’t have to deal with
the spear-thrower immediately. That hope appeared less and less likely.

He
reined up short of the lancers surrounding the tent, dismounted, and handed the
gray’s reins to Roncar.

An
undercaptain stood beside the guards. “Colonel Alucius?”

Alucius
nodded. “We just rode in.”

“The
marshal’s in the tent, sir. Just go on in. He said to send you in whenever you
got here.”

“Thank
you, Undercaptain.” As Alucius stepped past the lancers, he caught the
slightest whisper from the lancers well to the side.

“…see
all the blood…”

“…
you expect? That one’s a fighting commander…”

Stupid
commander as well? Alucius wondered as he lifted the tent flap and stepped
inside into an area no more than three yards by four.

Alyniat
was sitting on a stool before a small table strewn with maps. A lock of hair
more silver than blond fell across his forehead, and the circles under his eyes
were deep and black. He looked up from the maps at Alucius, taking in the
bloodied uniform.

“Sir,”
Alucius said.

“You’ve
made decent time, Colonel. I received your report about destroying the crystal
spear-thrower and the annihilation of four to five Matrite companies.” Alyniat
paused. “I hate to sound ungrateful, but… couldn’t you have found some way to
capture it, Colonel? It would have been so much more useful to us that way,
especially under the circumstances.”

For
some reason, Alyniat’s phrasing of “under the circumstances” grated on Alucius.
“I’m sure
it
would have been, sir,” Alucius replied.
“It’s not designed to be captured.”

“Not
designed to be captured?”

“I
can’t explain, sir, but it’s like… like gunpowder shielded by flame. You break
through the flame, and the gunpowder explodes.”

“Use
the equivalent of water, perhaps…”

“I
can only try.”

“If
you don’t capture one, only destroy them, what’s to prevent them from building
more?”

“It
takes years to do that, sir, and I understand it’s most costly. If they even
can.”

“Even
can?” Alyniat raised his eyebrows.

“The
last time one was destroyed, there was only one engineer who knew enough to
re-create it. It takes special equipment. I don’t know if he is still alive.”

“Are
you certain you can’t find a way to capture one?”

Alucius
considered for a moment. Was there any way he could have stopped the device?
Just stopped it? Finally, he spoke. “I couldn’t find any way with the first
one. I’ll certainly keep that possibility open, sir, when we try to deal with
the second one.”

“I’d
be most grateful if you would. Our losses are not inconsiderable.”

“Where
is the second one?”

“Oh…
about five vingts south of here, moving toward us. We’re trying to slow them
down with rifle fire from behind berms and the like, but the terrain here is
far flatter than on the west side of Southgate. As you know, attacking it
directly is foolish and fatal. They’re advancing up the ring road with it as a
spearhead. They haven’t sent companies into Southgate yet, but if they can
reach where we are now, we’ll have to consider pulling out of Southgate.”

“As
soon as the men get something to eat, and the mounts get some feed and water,
we’ll head south,” Alucius said.

“That
might be for the best.”

Best
for whom? It might be best for the Lanachronans and perhaps the people of
Southgate, but it wasn’t likely to be easy on Alucius and his forces. “Yes,
sir.”

“Colonel?”

“Sir?”

“We’ve
lost enough lancers that, even if you do destroy another five Matrite companies
and the spear-thrower, no one will be calling you a hero.”

“Sir…
I came here because I was asked to come. I didn’t come to be a hero. And, sir,
I didn’t ask for that the last three times I’ve bailed out Lanachrona. Good
day, Marshal.” Alucius turned and slipped out of the tent. As he mounted the
gray and rode back toward his companies, he knew he shouldn’t have reacted so
strongly, but all he wanted to do was to destroy the spear-thrower and return
to the Iron Valleys. Even being colonel of the Northern Guard would be a
pleasure compared to dealing with the politics of Lanachrona and the Southern
Guard. And if his reaction to Alyniat made sure he wouldn’t be colonel… well,
that was fine, too.

He
was still seething when he reined up near Feran and dismounted, slipping the
feed bag for the gray into place—a feed bag that Feran had thoughtfully
readied.

“You’re
angry,” Feran observed. “What happened?”

“The
marshal suggested that even if we destroyed another five Matrite companies and
the crystal spear-thrower, we wouldn’t be heroes. He also wanted to know why we
couldn’t capture the weapon, rather than destroying it. ‘That would have been
so much more useful, Colonel.’“ Alucius’s mockery of Alyniat’s words was edged.

“And
you still want to go after it?”

“If
we don’t destroy it, we’ll end up in a worse mess, and one that will have us
fighting for our lives across the Iron Valleys, possibly in weeks, certainly in
months.” Alucius lifted his water bottle. It was empty. “Legacies! I need to
refill the water bottles and get something to eat. How soon can we move out?”

“As
soon as your water bottles are full and the gray has some water,” Feran
replied. “Waris was nosing around, and the rumors are that the Matrites are
less than five vingts south and moving forward behind the spear-thrower.”

“That’s
what the marshal said.”

“Sir!”

Alucius
turned. A lancer rode toward him bearing a small keg. The lancer was Skant.

“Got
a keg. Used to have ale, but I drew the water myself.”

“Thank
you, Skant. I appreciate that.” Alucius looked to Roncar. “Did you have a
chance to refill your water bottles?”