Scepters (61 page)

Captain
Wasenyr did not dismount. “I leave you here, sir.”

“Thank
you, Captain.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Alucius
dismounted, handing the chestnut’s reins to a stableboy.

The
graying captain stepped down to meet Alucius. “Captain Alfaryl, Colonel.
Captain-colonel Ratyf asked me to escort you.”

“Thank
you.” Alucius was glad the captain had offered his name. “It’s been more than
three years, but you were my escort the last time, weren’t you?”

“Yes,
sir. I think so.”

Alucius
laughed. “You must escort hundreds of officers and others. This is but my
second audience.”

“That’s
more than all but the marshals usually get, sir.”

Not
having a ready reply to that, Alucius followed Alfaryl through the double stone
arches. Beyond the arches was a square vaulted entry hall that rose a good ten
yards overhead and measured fifteen yards on a side. Light poured through the
high clerestory windows on the south side. The polished granite floor was
inlaid with long strips of blue marble, creating a blue-edged diamond pattern.

Captain
Alfaryl led Alucius through the middle of three square arches into a corridor
that stretched a good forty yards. After less than twenty yards they turned
left into a short corridor, at the end of which was a set of high double doors.
In front of the doors stood four guards in blue and silver. Silently, the one
in the center opened a door, holding it as Alucius and the captain stepped
through. Just as silently, the door closed behind them.

Beyond
the door was a large chamber, with a number of settees and upholstered armchairs,
and with blue-and-cream hangings. Thick carpets, in blue and cream, stretched
over the granite floor. Several portraits hung on the light-wood-paneled walls.
All were of men, past Lord-Protectors. The chamber was empty, except for
Alucius, Captain Alfaryl, and the captain-colonel who walked toward them.

“Captain-colonel
Ratyf,” said Alfaryl, “Majer-colonel Alucius.”

“Ah…
yes. It is good to see you again, sir. The Lord-Protector is most looking
forward to seeing you. I will tell him you’re here.” The captain-colonel
vanished through a small doorway, then returned nearly instantaneously. “Do
enter, sir.”

Alucius
turned to Alfaryl. “Thank you.”

“My
pleasure, sir.”

Alucius
followed Ratyf’s gesture and stepped through the larger door in the rear of the
waiting chamber.

The
captain-colonel held the door and announced in a deep voice, “Colonel Alucius
of the Northern Guard.”

After
entering the audience hall, Alucius heard the door click shut behind him.

Nothing
had changed from the last time Alucius had been in the hall. It remained not
that much larger than the corridor leading to the waiting chamber, and the
goldenstone walls were draped with the same rich blue hangings, and
lighttorches were everywhere. The polished white marble floor was patterned
with the same blue stone as in the outer entry hall, but the pattern was that
of smaller oblongs.

“Greetings,
Colonel. Once more, you’ve accomplished the impossible.” The LordProtector
stepped away from the white onyx throne, whose high stone back rose into a spire,
at the tip of which was a shimmering blue crystal star.

“We
have done our best to accede to your requests, sir.” Alucius moved forward,
stopping short of the dais on which the slender darkhaired man in the severe
blue violet tunic stood.

“You
have apparently rendered me yet another service that I cannot fully repay on a
request of you that I cannot acknowledge in full—not publicly.”

“Neither
of us had a choice, sir. Not really.”

The
Lord-Protector Talryn smiled, spoke, his words carrying a trace of a laugh. “That
is one of the ironies of power and position. The greater each of these is, the
fewer real and wise choices there are, and yet there is the illusion that those
who have power and position have an immense range of choice.”

Alucius
smiled in return. “They do, sir. They have an immense range of choice to make
mistakes.”

Talryn
broke into a deep laugh. When he finally stopped, he shook his head. “When you
were on your way to Hyalt, I read Marshal Frynkel’s report about what occurred
in Krost. Later, your report on Hyalt was most revealing, and so were Marshal
Alyniat’s and your reports on the events that took place in Southgate.”

“I
would that I could enjoy and utilize your services here in Tempre, but, for
many reasons, that would not be wise. Lanachrona is too old and the Southern
Guard too traditional for a colonel of your directness. Nor would the Iron
Valleys or the Northern Guard be well served. They need you, and I need you
there.” The Lord-Protector extended an envelope, then a pair of insignia. “You
are hereby promoted permanently to majer-colonel in the Southern Guard, and
colonel in the Northern Guard. The Lord-Protector’s acceptance of Colonel
Weslyn’s request to be stipended is enclosed, along with your orders and
appointment as commandant of the Northern Guard. Your orders allow you to make
any and all changes you deem necessary within the structure of the Northern
Guard, but they do not provide you with any additional powers of conscription,
nor do they change my standing order against conscription of herders…”

“Sir…”
Alucius stopped. The Lord-Protector was right.

“Do
you have any thoughts or requests?”

“Yes,
sir.” Alucius did have thoughts, one in particular.

The
Lord-Protector’s eyebrows rose. “Yes…”

“I
believe that the Northern Guard headquarters should be moved from Dekhron,
While Lanachrona and the Iron Valleys were contending with each other, that
placement was sensible. I fear that for the years to come, the greater threat
will be in the west.”

“You
think Iron Stem, perhaps?” A smile curled into the corners of the
Lord-Protector’s mouth.

“Yes,
sir. If that would seem too self-serving, then I would suggest Wesrigg. There
is already an outpost there. But Iron Stem would be better, because it is the
junction of the two high roads, north and west.”

The
Lord-Protector nodded. “I can see that. Would you move the entire Guard from
Dekhron?”

“Yes,
sir. For many reasons.”

“That
will cost golds, Colonel.”

“Yes,
sir. It will. At first. Later, it will be less costly. Far less costly. And I
have another request.”

“Another?”
The mock astonishment was colored with amusement.

“I
would like an order closing the dustcat establishment in Iron Stem.”

This
time, puzzlement appeared on Talryn’s face.

“I
would close every such establishment anywhere. It is a filthy and degrading
addiction.” Alucius shrugged. “That would not work. It would only crop up
elsewhere. But requiring Gortal to move his establishment from Iron Stem will
disrupt some of that trouble… and I would not wish that establishment near the
Northern Guard.”

“How
would you handle that?”

“If
I have the authority, it will occur.” Alucius’s voice was cold.

“You
may have the authority for both—with a single proviso. You may not announce
either until after the turn of spring. We will discuss, if by dispatch, how to
make these changes, and you and Marshal Frynkel will work out the details.”

Alucius
nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Have
you any other official requests?”

Alucius
caught the slight emphasis on “official.” “No, sir.”

“Then,
you have my leave to return to Dekhron as you see fit, but no later than a week
from now. You will take both Southern Guard companies, with some replacement
lancers, and I would appreciate your efforts at ensuring they get training.
Once you are certain that you have full control of the Northern Guard, you can
detach those companies and send them back to Tempre.” Talryn offered the
quickest of grins. “You can also promise them a month of furlough once they
return. Now…” The Lord-Protector reached back and lifted a bell, ringing it gently.
“I have my own request.”

“Sir?”

“My
consort and wife, the Lady Alerya, has requested that you join us for an early
supper. I believe you were informed of the supper, but not by whom the request
was made.” Talryn rose and announced to the seemingly empty audience hall, “The
audiences are concluded for the day.”

Alucius
followed the Lord-Protector into the chamber off the audience hall, up the
private circular stairs to the upper level, and out into a hallway. Across the
archway from the stairs was a set of double doors, before which were stationed
two guards.

Talryn
opened one door, but gestured for Alucius to step into the private foyer before
following. On the other side of the foyer and through an archway, in the
sitting room on the love seat set between two end tables, was a young woman.
She held a small child, barely more than an infant, in her lap. She rose as
Alucius and the Lord-Protector entered the room.

“Colonel
Alucius, this is my wife and consort, the Lady Alerya—and my son Talus.”

Alucius
bowed to the slender young woman who carried the child, perhaps six months of
age, already with the dark brown hair and eyes of his sire. “Lady.” He
straightened.

Alerya
looked straight at Alucius, then she inclined her head… and smiled. “I thought
as much. It was not a dream, was it?”

Alucius
debated. “No, lady, but it is best treated as one. Healing by herders is not
well thought of.”

Talryn
looked at Alucius. “You…”

“I
could have denied it, and who would have known?”

“But…
so many could benefit…”

Alucius
shook his head. “ So few… it takes much time and energy. It cannot be done
often, and it is often not successful. You have treated fairly with the Iron
Valleys—and the herders. Far more fairly than have the traders of Dekhron. Call
it the reward you most deserved, and I am pleased to have been able to have
done so.”

The
Lord-Protector was silent, clearly both relieved and angered simultaneously.

“He
has given more than he has received, Talryn. Far more. Do not ask more. Ever.”
Alerya’s voice was soft, but Alucius could sense the steel behind it.

Talryn
laughed, softly and ruefully. “My commander of the north and my consort. Truly,
I am well served.” He inclined his head to Alucius. “My lady is correct. I can
never fully repay you, but I will heed you. I do ask that you do not leave me
bereft of your advice.”

“Mine
is no better than that of many,” Alucius replied, “but I will do as you
request.”

Talryn
laughed again. “It is better that I do not request, but allow you to use your
judgment.”

“Before
we dine, I have but one question of a prying nature,” Alerya offered, “but I
must ask.”

Alucius
couldn’t help but respect the Lord-Protector’s consort. “I will answer as I
can.”

“Talus…
did you… ?”

“No.
I healed you. That was all. I had hoped.”

“Thank
you.” Alerya’s smile was broad.

Alucius
could sense a great relief from Talryn, and for that he was grateful for Alerya’s
question.

“Should
I ask how you managed that?”

“You
can ask, sir, but I can only say that it was tied in with the Recorder.”

“We
should eat, Talryn, before Talus gets terribly fussy.”

Alucius
looked at the boy, and the slightest wave of sadness swept over him. He had not
yet even seen Alendra.

“We
should indeed.” With a smile, the Lord-Protector turned toward a set of open
doors that revealed a small dining room.

As
he entered, Alucius could not help but see that it was set for only three, and
he was placed on one side, while Talryn and Alerya sat at either end. Alerya
still held Talus, who was making a determined effort to grasp and gnaw on the
blue linen cloth that covered the table.

“This
is a personal supper,” Talryn said. “No Lord-Protectors or colonels.”

“And
no tactics.” Alerya took a sip of wine as soon as the steward poured it. “I
trust you will not mind, but I will eat and drink as I can, else I may get
little nourishment.”

“Go
ahead, my dear.”

“Please,”
added Alucius. “You spend much time with him, I see.”

“Most
of every day. I have seen too many children raised by servants and tutors, and
then parents wonder why their child shares none of their values and
understandings.” She took another sip of the red wine. “I am most fortunate
that my lord understands and that this is something we can do.”

“You
can do,” Talryn said.

“You
spend much more time with him than did your sire with you.”

“You
set a good example, my lady,” Talryn laughed.

“Talryn
has talked about herders and the north. Would you tell me what it is like,
truly like, to be a herder?”

Alucius
smiled. “I can tell you what I feel, and some things. To tell it all would take
far longer than we have.”

“Tell
what you can, if you would.”

“There
is a feel about being a herder, and about the land and the nightsheep. One of
my first memories was when I saw a ramlet who had been abandoned, and I
persuaded him to take a bottle. I was very young, perhaps four or five…”
Alucius continued with the story of Lamb, still slightly amazed that he was
having a private supper with the two.

The
noon sun was mostly obscured by a hazy sky, and a bitter wind blew out of the northeast
from the Aerial Plateau as Alucius and his companies neared the southern edge
of Salaan and the scattered huts of the small holders who scrabbled out an
existence on the dry ridges south of the River Vedra. The trip back had been
long, and the only thing that Alucius could say for it was that he had
healed—mostly, although he still wore the brace on his right forearm—and that
no forces and no Talent-creatures had attacked them.