Scepters (69 page)

Behind
him he heard the sentries.

“…
Colonels wife… pretty woman…”

“…
herder like him… she can run a stead alone… rifles there aren’t for show…”

“…
heard tell she was as good a shot as him…”

“…
tough folk up north…”

“…
could use more of ‘em, especially now.”

He
could use more of just about everything, Alucius reflected, except crooked
factors and ifrits—and inept captains. He made his way back to his study.

Once
in the study, cold because the coal stove in the main part of the headquarters
building had not been fired up for the day—and would not be until he did, since
Decdi was end day, when lancers had a day off, except in the field—he sat down
behind the desk, thinking over what lay ahead.

He’d
promoted several senior squad leaders, and now Egyl was the captain in command
of Seventh Company. Feran had taken Egyl and Seventh Company, as well as the
two Southern Guard companies, to Sudon, with another promotion order for Estepp
to captain and the order dismissing Captain Dezyn. Seventh Company would stay
there for some intensive training. Fifth Company, with Faisyn as senior squad
leader, had remained at Dekhron to support Alucius.

Alucius
still hadn’t received any word from Majer Lujat on the situation in northern
Madrien, and only about half the northern and western outposts had reported
back. So far, thankfully, the reports had been positive and seemingly
appreciative of the change in command. That would not last, not if the Northern
Guard had to deal with an attack by the Matrites, not when supplies and effective
officers were both low.

He
took a deep breath and looked at the stacks of paper and charts before him. He
could only hope that Sanasus was almost finished setting up the new ledgers and
revamping the accounts and disbursing systems.

Lunch
ana Duadi passed without incident—and without dispatches from anywhere. Alucius
and Sanasus checked the inventories of everything against the ledgers, then
began to go over the ledgers line by line, sorting out what they calculated had
been paid to various crafters, growers, and factors, and what had been recorded
as being paid. They’d gone back only two seasons, and the discrepancy was far
larger than Alucius had originally thought—more than a hundred golds in four
months. At that rate, Alucius calculated a difference of two hundred fifty
golds a year. If Weslyn had been diverting that much, where were the other five
hundred or so golds that had been “overcharged” in the past four years? Had
they gone to Halanat?

He’d
brought in Agherat late on Duadi, and the old usurer had clucked and mumbled
and muttered, then found almost ten more places where Weslyn had concealed
overcharges. “Never liked him. Too friendly. Kind that smiles while he cuts
your purse.” Those had been Agherat’s only words about the late colonel.

After
the usurer had left, Sanasus and Alucius had both taken deep breaths.

Alucius
might suspect, but the more they looked, the clearer it was that there was no
evidence within the Northern Guard records that pointed to misdeeds—except by
Shalgyr and by Weslyn. Alucius had no doubt that others were involved—or that,
barring some mistake or disclosure, he’d never find proof of his suspicions.

Feran
returned to Dekhron on Tridi, striding into headquarters in midafternoon and
settling into the chair across from Alucius.

“How
was Sudon?” asked Alucius.

Feran
grinned. “Captain Estepp said you were the only colonel who’d dare to make him
a captain. He also said that he’d even volunteer to take a company against the
Matrites, if you needed it.”

“Dezyn?”

“He
should have been waiting with a letter of resignation.” Feran laughed harshly. “Instead,
he asked when he’d be promoted to overcaptain because all the heads of training
had been overcaptains before.”

“How
did you break it to him?”

“Not
well. I told him that he was lucky you hadn’t assigned him personally to a
suicide attack against a crystal spear-thrower, and that he could consider
himself fortunate to be able to resign, rather than being dismissed or
court-martialed for incompetence.”

“He
protested, of course. That kind always does.”

“Not
for long. I’d made sure Estepp was promoted first, and called him in.” Feran’s
grin widened. “I’ve never heard such a detailed listing of incompetence. Never
heard one so well presented, either. I did ask Estepp to write it up and send
it here.”

“To
you, I hope. As deputy commander.” Alucius handed Feran a sheet of parchment
and a set of insignia. “It’s official, now. You are number two.”

“You
rushed that.”

“No.
I should have done it within the first day, but I dated back to then, so you’ll
get paid for it.”

Feran
shook his head. “You do know what lancers think is important.”

“I
hope so. Put on the new ones.”

“Here?”

“Here.”

Feran
took off the overcaptain’s bars.

Alucius
looked at the majer’s insignia on Feran’s uniform collar. “Those look good.
Unlike some of us, you look old enough to be a majer.”

“That’s
another legacy I have to bear,” Feran snorted.

“You’ll
handle it fine,” Alucius insisted. “Better than I do.”

“Not
better. Differently. We make a good team.”

“As
a team,” Alucius began, “we still have to figure out how to strengthen all the
companies in the west. We haven’t heard from Lujat.”

“He’s
cautious. He’s probably gathering information on his own, to make sure that you’re
really in charge.”

Alucius
hoped so. Again, he was hoping too much.

By
Quinti morning, dispatches were flooding in from all the outposts and
companies. Alucius walked into Feran’s study and handed several more to the
majer. “I think these are the last. It’s almost as if they’d all cross-checked
with each other.”

“They
probably did. Once they saw senior squad leaders getting promoted and Weslyn’s
flunkies getting sacked, they decided it was real. Estepp sent a note with his
report on Dezyn’s incompetence. He got a note from Sawyn—he’s senior squad
leader with Twelfth Company—wanting to know if you were really colonel.”

“You
think Sawyn… ?”

Feran
shook his head. “Senior squad leader is where he belongs. He can get anything
done, but he’s never had an idea of his own in his life. Captains sometimes
have to think.”

“I’ll
be glad when we get the last of the new officers in place.”

“Except
that’s when they’ve got to get to work.” Feran glanced at the reports. “Are you
finished with all that work on the ledgers?”

“We
had to go back over things after everything that Agherat pointed out, but we
did find a number of other discrepancies. Sanasus has some loose ends, but it’s
done. At least, everything that we could do.”

“And?”

“We
figure—it’s a guess—but we think Weslyn diverted close to twelve hundred golds.
Who got the other eight hundred or so… who knows? The house was only fifty
golds, and even with that matched pair of his and the carriage…”

“Only
fifty golds for a house? Imagine that. I’d have to save every copper for three
years. And that’s at the munificent pay of a majer…”

“Then
there was the wine. Agherat told me some of the bottles cost a gold apiece.
There were two hundred and five bottles.”

“A
mere hundred golds more,” suggested Feran. “That leaves seven hundred. You
think it was Halanat?”

“That’s
my guess, but there’s not too much I can do. There’s not a shred of proof.”

“That
hasn’t stopped you before.”

“Not
knowing why, what they did with the golds, or the reasons just might stop me.”
Alucius cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’ll have to be careful. I’ve got to meet
with this Traders’ Council tomorrow. They’ve suggested some place called the
White Bull.”

“An
old tavern on the river. That’s not so bad. Things have quieted down. If you
don’t accuse anyone, they’ll probably stay quiet.”

“That’s
what bothers me. I get a cordial letter from Halsant, promising cooperation.
Sanasus says that we’re getting solid and lower bids for flour and feed. It’s
as if nothing ever happened.”

“You
think something is about to happen?”

“Yes.
They could be waiting to hear what I have to say, or they could already be
planning something.” Alucius paused. “What did you think of Majer Lujat’s
report?”

“He
thinks the Matrites are waiting for warmer weather to attack.”

“So
do I,” replied Alucius. “I just hope we can get those companies reinforced, and
the new captains have time to get settled and ready.”

“That’s
already happening. We’ve got good lancers. You wouldn’t believe the difference
in Seventh Company under Egyl even in a few days. We can send them out to
Wesrigg in a week, and they’ll be a big boost.”

“When
does Estepp think we’ll have enough trainees to reestablish Nineteenth Company?”

“Midspring.
I’ll need until then to find the seasoned squad leaders, and a nucleus of
decent lancers from other companies.”

Alucius
was glad that he had Feran as his deputy because he’d been able to leave the
military organization side of things to the older officer while he concentrated
on unscrambling the logistics and disbursement mess, although he had doubts
that all the questions would ever be resolved.

The
White Bull was indeed an old tavern, on the river and less than a quarter vingt
west of the high road and the ancient eternastone bridge over the River Vedra,
set in the middle of a block of even older structures. The wooden front had
been slathered with so many coats of brown that the paint doubtless had more
strength than the wood beneath. The windows were clean, but the panes were
blued with age, except for the handful that had been replaced. Fewal and Roncar
rode with Alucius, but remained mounted outside the tavern as he walked in.

About
twenty men sat at the tables in the public room. All looked at Alucius. No one
said a word. Alucius took several moments to survey the group before he finally
spoke.

“I
appreciate the chance to meet with you. I’m afraid that I don’t know any of
you. At least, I can’t say that I recognize any of you, and if I should, I must
apologize.”

The
sandy-haired and heavyset man who walked forward to greet Alucius looked far
older than the thirty years suggested by Kustyl. He carried the aura of
purpleness that bespoke some ifrit contact, an aura stronger even than that
which had surrounded Colonel Weslyn. His eyes scanned Alucius before he spoke. “I’m
Halsant. I suppose… well, normally Tarolt would be doing much of the talking,
but he couldn’t be here today.”

“I
see. Do you know why he couldn’t?”

“No,
Colonel. I don’t ask other factors their business.”

Alucius
offered a smile. “I wasn’t suggesting that. Sometimes, people explain why they
can’t be places. I certainly wasn’t prying. If the honorable Tarolt didn’t say,
then that’s his business, and I certainly respect that.”

Halsant
nodded. “There have been stories of all sorts about what’s happening with the
Guard…”

“That’s
one reason why I suggested that we meet. Another reason is that the militia and
then the Northern Guard have been so closely tied to the traders and factors in
Dekhron.” Alucius turned slightly so that he faced all the traders. “I don’t
know if Halsant shared what I wrote, but I was asked by the Lord-Protector to
become colonel because an inspection of the Northern Guard last year had
revealed some serious problems.” He took the sheets of paper he had had
prepared and laid them on a large circular table to his left. “These are some
papers outlining what we’ve discovered so far. When you have a moment, feel
free to look at them.” Alucius paused, hoping that someone would ask a question
or move and look at the documents. He really didn’t want to do all the talking
to a silent audience.

“Some
folks are saying that you were ordered to take care of Colonel Weslyn, just get
rid of him.”

Alucius
shook his head. “I was sent from Tempre to replace the colonel. The documents
on the table show that there were no orders and no hints to do him harm. The
Lord-Protector had accepted the colonel’s resignation—”

“Weslyn
didn’t resign.”

Alucius
smiled pleasantly. “That was a polite way for the Lord-Protector to allow the
colonel to save face. If the Lord-Protector had wanted to be harsher, he could
have dismissed the colonel or ordered a court-martial for malfeasance.”

“We
liked the colonel. He was a friendly sort,” offered a dark-haired man to the
rear of the group. He seemed to bear little trace of the ifrit purple aura.

“I’m
certain that you did. He was a pleasant man. But the colonel never fought in a
pitched battle, and he never commanded lancers in battle, and it has been clear
to battle-tested officers in both the Northern and Southern Guard that it was
time for a change. As most of you should know, I did not seek this position. I
only accepted it under duress, and at the personal request of the
Lord-Protector. I accepted it because the war with Madrien is far from over,
and because the Iron Valleys would suffer greatly with the Guard in the condition
left by Colonel Weslyn.”

“Why
did you have him shot?” That came from another factor, a ginger-bearded and
balding man.

“I
didn’t. He shot me. Only after he and Imealt fired at me did my men return
fire. I was unarmed at the time. There were more than ten witnesses, and a
number of them were not my men, but the colonel’s.”

“He
must have had a reason.”

“He
did. He was afraid that if I survived, he’d be punished after I discovered his
crimes.”