Scepters (66 page)

“That’s
easy for you to say. Word is already all over Dekhron that Weslyn was lining
his own pockets and that others might be involved. This… Colonel Alucius even
found a chest with three hundred golds in the strong room in Weslyn’s house.
How could he have been so stupid? Where does that leave us?”

“What
you do is have Halsant send a letter to the new colonel, welcoming him and
promising him the greatest cooperation in providing goods at the lowest fair
price, and suggesting that the colonel’s reputation for honesty and directness
will serve him well.”

“Within
weeks, he’ll see right through that.”

“He
may do so within glasses or days. What can he do? Call Halsant a liar? The
colonel is direct, but far from stupid. He will not do anything that is public
and direct without proof. If we do not provide it, he can suspect all he wishes,
but he cannot act, except to insist on better prices, and that should not be a
problem, not for the short time he will be colonel.”

“Weslyn
would take great comfort in your words.”

“You’re
not Weslyn, and you’re not in the Northern Guard. Every trader and factor, and
even the larger crafters, will be watching this Alucius. He’s too young. He’s
arrogant, and he’s a nightsheep herder. None of those traits will endear him to
those who must supply him and who are tariffed by the Lord-Protector to support
him and the Northern Guard. His high-handed search of Weslyn’s house will be
the first of many actions that will cause him trouble.”

“He
can do much damage in a short time.”

“That’s
to our gain. Already, people in Hyalt are beginning to murmur that the True
Duarchy doesn’t sound so bad considering the problems they have now. The same
is true in Southgate and Zalt, and Dimor and even Arwyn. If our new colonel
drives a hard bargain for supplies, that will increase the anger and unrest. If
he does not, he will lose favor in Tempre, because the Lord-Protector is
hard-pressed to find coins for his wars.”

“And
then what?”

“We
wait for him to make a mistake. Young and brilliant officers always do. That is
their greatest failing, and one that is inevitable. One cannot gain wisdom
except by making mistakes. Young and brilliant officers get promoted too
quickly and before they can make those mistakes where the consequences are not
so great.”

“Just
what mistake will he make? “

“What
particular mistake?” Tarolt smiled. “I have no idea, but it will be one that
lies in his failure to understand that brilliance and skill do not address
every problem. Sometimes, there is no substitute for subtlety and treachery.”
Tarolt paused. “Did you have something else?”

“Something
else…?” Halanat stood speechless for a moment. “Something else?”

“If
not, you should return to your own dwelling and consider how best to make the
new colonel look unbending and unsympathetic to the needs of the oppressed
traders and factors of Dekhron.”

Halanat’s
eyes lifted to the purpled orbs of the white-haired trader, then dropped. “Ah,
yes, sir.”

On
Quinti, Alucius and Feran spent much of the day just digging out information
and supervising the assembly of records from various places. Weslyn had clearly
tried to keep information as fragmented as possible so that he was the only one
who had access to everything. Again, that was just another indication that far
more was wrong than Alucius had yet seen, but there was so much information
that Alucius had decided to set that aside for a time and get back to assessing
the state of the Northern Guard as a fighting organization and determining what
he could do immediately.

By
Sexdi morning, Alucius and Feran were in the commander’s study trying to sort
out the strategic situation from dispatches and maps, outdated as they might
be. Alucius could only hope that he’d get updated reports from Majer Lujat in
the west. His dispatch to Lujat had offered his full support and his admiration
for Lujat’s effectiveness under difficult conditions.

Alucius
looked to Feran. “No wonder Majer Lujat is barely able to hold any positions.
Half of the officers are captains that Weslyn appointed over the past three
years. None of them had any real experience. “

“I
told you that,” Feran said.

“You
did. That was before I knew I’d have to fix the problem.”

“Makes
a difference, doesn’t it, most honored Colonel?”

“Yes,
it does, most honored about-to-be Majer.”

“I
haven’t said yes.”

“I
won’t take ‘no.’“ Alucius took a long deep breath. “Do you know any of the
senior squad leaders of those companies?”

“Some
of them.”

“We
can make Egyl a captain, if you think he can handle it, and if he’ll accept it,”
Alucius said. “Give him Seventh Company here, and, in a week or so, send them
to Sudon for training before posting them somewhere west.”

“Egyl
would be a good captain,” Feran agreed. “Faisyn could handle senior squad
leader of Fifth Company for a while, and they could train out of here. Wait a
few months and make him captain, and move Zerdial up to senior squad leader.”

“More
like a few weeks for Faisyn. We don’t have much time. That’s two companies.
That leaves sixteen, eighteen when we re-form the Nineteenth and Twentieth.”

“You’ve
got a couple of decent captains. Koryt still has the Third. And Cavalat with
the Sixth.”

“What
ever happened to Vanas?”

“Matrites
got him early on in that first campaign. Dysar sent the Thirteenth against
three Matrite companies.”

Alucius
looked at the Thirteenth Company roster. “Zaracar’s the captain now.” He went
through the stack of officers’ files, not all that many, and quickly leafed
through Zaracar’s file. “He’s another one that Weslyn appointed—just last year.
He’s from here in Dekhron.” Alucius wrote down the name and the company number
on the tally he was keeping.

“Haven’t
heard of him.”

“Is
Estepp still around?” Alucius frowned, then answered his own question. “I
thought I saw his name somewhere. The training company at Sudon, maybe?” He
went through the rosters. “Yes. I thought so. He’s still a senior squad leader.
He should have been made a captain years ago.”

“Maybe
he didn’t want to be.”

“And
maybe Weslyn needed someone to train lancers…”

“Good
lancers, but captains who aren’t that bright?” suggested Feran.

“That’s
what it’s looking like, isn’t it?”

“What
about Overcaptain Culyn?”

“He’s
not on any of the rosters, and there’s no file on him. The head of training at
Sudon is Overcaptain Dezyn.” Alucius paused. “I remember him. He was here at
Dekhron when we came back.”

“Oh…
the blond captain. He was like Yusalt—didn’t seem to know that much.”

Feran
and Alucius exchanged glances.

“Maybe
we should promote Estepp to captain and leave him in charge of training for a
while,” suggested Alucius.

“That
might be better. He knows what he’s doing. With the Regent still in power in
Madrien, we’re going to need more and better lancers.”

“We
aren’t going to get that many more,” Alucius pointed out. “Let’s hope Estepp
can keep giving us better ones. And some more foot troopers. Weslyn pared down
the foot to just three companies, and they’re all split into squads for basic
stationkeeping at the outposts.”

“They’re
useless that way.” Feran snorted. “Like a lot of those captains. It probably
took Yusalt years to figure out which end of a rifle to use.”

“He’s
a nice young man who has no business being in the Guard.” Alucius had
originally thought that Weslyn had just been trying to squeeze all the coin he
could from the Guard, but now he was getting a far darker impression, and one
that suggested to him that Weslyn had been used, either as a tool or directly,
by the ifrits to weaken, if not to gut, the Northern Guard. But that wasn’t
something he could say, not about the ifrits. “It’s almost as if he were trying
to destroy the Guard.”

Feran
nodded. “It looks that way. Do you think that the traders were paying him off?”

“There’s
not much doubt about that. It might be hard to prove, and we don’t know why.”
Even if the ifrits did want to weaken the Guard, why would they want the
Matrites running all over Dekhron? “It doesn’t make sense for them to weaken
the Guard so much that the Matrites would take over the Iron Valleys and
Dekhron.”

“Maybe
they don’t want either side to win,” Feran suggested. “So long as the righting
goes on, no one will be looking at how they operate.”

“That
does make sense.” In more than one way, Alucius realized. “But we can’t let
them keep doing it.”

“Stopping
them will be hard. You’re just the Guard commander. You’ve got your hands full
fixing the mess Weslyn left you.”

Alucius
grinned. “What do you mean by putting it on me?
We
have our hands full.”

“I
was afraid you’d say something like that, most honored Colonel.” Feran shook
his head.

“I
think the next item is your promotion. You’re getting the grief; you should get
the coins.”

Feran
snorted. “They’re not enough.”

“They
never are. Now… about that promotion…”

In
midafternoon on Septi, Dhaget rapped on the doorframe to Alucius’s study.
Alucius looked up from the draft of the Northern Guard reorganization plan he
and Feran had worked out. “Yes?”

“This
just came, sir,” said Dhaget, extending an envelope.

“Thank
you.” Alucius took the envelope and opened it.

Dhaget
slipped back out of the study.

The
envelope held a formal dispatch, with a small square of paper folded inside the
dispatch. Alucius read the short dispatch.

Colonel
Alucius—

In
Captain Dezyn’s absence, I am reporting that the training company at Sudon has
been informed of the change of command in the Northern Guard. I have informed
all squad leaders and trainee lancers, and we await any orders that may be
forthcoming.

The
signature was that of Estepp.

Alucius
nodded and unfolded the second sheet. It had but a few words and no signature.

We’re
behind you. Take care of this group of brigands like you did the last.

His
smile was rueful. Those words were the Estepp he recalled, but the formal
dispatch was all that Captain Dezyn would see. Of that, Alucius was certain. He
was also certain of the message that Estepp was sending. He pocketed the second
and unsigned note. Feran would certainly want to see it.

He
glanced out the window at gray skies that seemed to be lifting. He hoped so.
Then he went back to the plan on his desk. The plan itself wasn’t that complex,
but figuring out which transfers to make in what order and what officers’
resignations to ask for first were still things he needed to work out. He had
decided that he wanted to complete the reorganization in two steps. He’d
thought about doing it all at once, but Feran had pointed out that having more
than half the companies without captains or captains in transit at one time was
likely to be too unsettling.

Then,
too, he still had to deal with the logistics problems. Although Sanasus had
implemented a new set of ledgers, reconciling the accounts was going to take
days, if not weeks.

Another
knock on the door interrupted his concentration, and he looked up.

“Sir…
there are some folks to see you.” Fewal was grinning as he stood in the door. “I
thought you’d want to know. They’ve come a fair piece.”

Alucius
could see a feminine figure, holding an infant, and an older man. He scrambled
to his feet and through the doorway past Fewal, who was still smiling broadly.
For a long time, how long he couldn’t even tell, Alucius held Wendra and his
daughter. He could sense how three lifethreads almost intertwined in a swirl of
green. His eyes blurred, and she reached up and brushed away the tears.

“I’m
so glad you’re here,” he murmured in her ear.

“I’m
so glad you’re safe.”

Kustyl
cleared his throat.

Alucius
flushed as he released his wife. Tears streaked her cheeks as well as his.
Alendra merely gurgled.

“Couldn’t
tell that the man missed you or anything,” Kustyl observed.

Wendra
said, her voice low, “Do you have quarters here? Grandpa Kustyl said you did. I
can go up there and feed Alendra. You need to talk to Grandpa. He says it’s
important.”

Alucius
nodded. “Fewal… if you could escort my wife to the quarters…”

“Yes,
sir. I’d be pleased to.”

Alucius
and Wendra exchanged smiles before she stepped back, and Alucius nodded to the
older herder. “I understand you have some information for me.”

“That
I do, Colonel. That I do.” Kustyl’s eyes twinkled, and there was the slightest
emphasis on the word “colonel.”

Alucius
watched for a moment as Wendra left, then stepped into his study. Kustyl
followed and closed the door. Alucius gestured to one of the chairs.

“Hope
you don’t mind if I stand, Alucius, but it’s been a long ride, and I’m not so
young as I used to be.”

The
younger man laughed. “Not if you don’t mind if I sit. I’m still sore in places.”
He eased into the chair behind the desk.

“Wendra
didn’t say, but you were hurt pretty bad, weren’t you?” Kustyl’s eyes narrowed.

“I
didn’t tell her in my letters. Feran said no one thought I’d live.”

“And
you’re walking around now.”

“Nightsilk
helps.”

“Some.”
Kustyl smiled. “She brought you new sets of nightsilk undergarments. And a new
vest. Said even nightsilk couldn’t keep taking the beating you gave it.” He
studied Alucius. “You almost look old enough for this job. Gray hair helps.”
Then he smiled. “Anyone any younger, the troubles’d kill’em.”