Soarers Choice (39 page)

“Those
are the dangerous ones.”

Not
wanting to discuss that particular matter further, Dainyl turned. “I need to
get ready.”

“Of
course.”

They
began to walk down the hill.

“How
is Lystrana doing in Dereka?”

“I
have no idea, except that she arrived safely and the recorder was pleased. I
haven’t exactly had access to a Table here.”

Alcyna’s
laugh was rueful. “I’m sorry. Sometimes, it seems ... you know what I mean.”

“We
take the presence of Tables for granted.”

“We
couldn’t hold even Corus together without them.”

“We
may not be able to even with them,” Dainyl replied sardonically.

When
they reached the station area, Dainyl found Ghasylt talking with Lyzetta.

“...
hands-on commander ... knows what a pteridon can do ... what it can’t...”

Both
looked up.

“Captain
Ghasylt, is Halya available for a short flight... with a passenger? I have one
more tactic I’d like to try.”

“Yes,
sir. I believe she’s ... over there. Halya!”

In
less than a quarter glass, Dainyl was standing beside Halya’s pteridon,
explaining. “We’re going to lift a large boulder very high in the sky, after
twilight, but while there’s light in the sky, and then we’re going to drop it.
You have a good
i.e.
of how much your pteridon can
lift, I take it?”

“Yes,
sir.”

“Then
we should get airborne. We’ll head toward the sinkhole valley to the north,
just to the east of the high road. There we’ll see which boulder looks best.
Then, we’ll head north and circle west, climbing as we go. I’d like to be at
least two thousand yards up before we start to come south over the RA’s
complex.”

“We
can do that, sir.”

Dainyl
was more than a little amused by the alectress’s cheerful confidence.

At
the supply valley he had Halya’s pteridon pick up the largest and most
spherical boulder that she felt confident the creature could carry. Even so, he
had to wince at the Talent/lifeforce draw that it took for the pteridon to get
into the air and slowly climb out.

They
continued to climb for a good four vingts before Dainyl called forward. “You
can swing back south now.”

“Yes,
sir.”

At
two thousand yards above the rocky hills to the north and west of Soupat,
Dainyl could sense that the pteridon was close to its limits. He waited until
the battered buildings came into clearer view, the stones golden red in the
indirect light diffusing from the setting sun.

“A
touch more to the right!”

The
pteridon banked ever so slightly.

“Just
a bit more.”

The
pteridon centered on a course that would carry them directly over the center
building, the one that held both the lightcannon and the Table.

From
what Dainyl had seen earlier, they were above the range of the heavy
lightcannon, even assuming that the defenders had a way to aim it directly
overhead. That was the advantage that using altitude to accelerate impact
weight had. The disadvantage was that Dainyl’s Talent only extended perhaps
fifty yards below them, but what he planned was to have the pteridon release
the boulder and guide it through a Talent-tube pointed at the main structure.

It
couldn’t hurt to try, and it might shake up the defenders, even if it failed.

As
they neared the buildings, the blue-green beam of the lightcannon stabbed
toward them, but only creating a faint bluish haze that did not quite reach the
pteridon. As quickly as it had appeared, it vanished.

“A
little longer!” Dainyl called. “Have the pteridon release it when I call
‘Drop!’“

“Yes,
sir.”

Dainyl
began to form the Talent-tube he needed — and the pteridon dropped a good fifty
yards before stabilizing in flight.

“Sorry,
sir! Don’t know what happened.”

Dainyl
did, but he could explain later. “Keep it level for a few moments longer.” He
was trying to mentally gauge the arc toward the building, taking into account
their own momentum.

“Drop!
Now!”

Dainyl
could feel himself pressed into the saddle by the combination of stress on his
Talent-tube and the upward movement of the pteridon when it lost the drag of
the boulder.

He’d
tried to impart a Talent-affinity in the boulder, as well as guiding it, in the
few instants before it was out of his Talent range.

From
far beneath, he could sense an effort at a Talent shield. Then a puff of dust
rose on one side of the building, and stones cascaded down onto the ground.

“You
hit the building, sir!” Halya exclaimed. “You hit it.”

The
boulder had struck the building, but had missed the lightcannon, either because
his aim had been inaccurate or because the defenders had managed to shield the
weapon. His smile was rueful. From the altitude from which they’d dropped the
boulder, he should have been happy to have gotten even close to the building.

Like
it or not, First and Seventh Companies were going to have to continue the
close-in and tiresome business of lofting and bowling heavy boulders at the
buildings on the ridge until the defenders surrendered, fled, or died.

“Take
us back down to the patroller station, but keep us well away from that
lightcannon!”

“Yes,
sir!”

The
pteridon continued south for almost two vingts, only gradually descending until
they were well south of Soupat. Then, Halya circled eastward in a swift
descent, coming in and flaring at the
e.g.
of the
flat sandy expanse to the east of the patroller station.

Once
the pteridon folded its wings, Dainyl unfastened the harness and dismounted.

“Sir...
?” offered Halya.

“Yes?”
Dainyl looked forward at the Myrmidon, who was inspecting her skylance.

“My
skylance is exhausted, but we didn’t use it.”

“No.
That sometimes happens when the pteridon is having trouble drawing lifeforce.
That was also why when I used Talent to try to guide the boulder, we lost
altitude.” Those were both reasons why Dainyl wasn’t about to suggest repeating
the effort — or that anyone else try it.

“Oh
... tell Captain Ghasylt that you’re not to fly for the first glass tomorrow.
It will take your pteridon that long to recover.”

Halya’s
eyes widened slightly. Then she nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Dainyl
turned and began to walk — slowly — toward Alcyna, who was waiting near the station.
He was as exhausted as the pteridon was.

By
Novdi morning, Mykel did manage to walk to the officers’ mess for breakfast,
although his legs were unsteady by the time he seated himself.

One
of the orderlies hurried over. “Sir? Cider? Ale?”

“Both.”
He smiled. “They seem to work better together.”

As
the ranker hurried toward the kitchen, Culeyt and Fabrytal turned from the side
table.

“It’s
good to see you up, sir,” offered the undercaptain.

“It’s
good to be up.” Unsteady as I may be. Mykel suspected that Fabrytal worried
because Mykel had been riding with Fifteenth Company just before he had
undertaken his less than successful effort against the snipers.

The
ranker orderly returned with two mugs. “Here you are, sir. Breakfast’ll be here
soon, sir.”

“Thank
you.”

Before
Mykel had taken more than a single swallow of the ale, Rhystan stepped into the
mess. “Might I join you, sir?”

“Please
do.”

“You’re
still pale,” Rhystan said quietly as he eased his chair into place across from
the majer.

“I
feel pale, but I’m stronger, and it’s important for everyone to know I’m on the
mend.” Mykel kept his own voice low. Why he felt that way, he couldn’t have
explained. “How have the attacks by the sandwolves and sanders been going?”

“More
of them,” admitted Rhystan, “but I passed on your advice to the other officers
and made sure they told their squad leaders. The squads are doing better. The
inholders are losing some livestock, but not as much, and we didn’t lose any
men yesterday.”

“You
think it will get worse.”

“I
do. The outholders have been quiet, but that won’t last, either.”

“What
about the miners and workmen?”

“No
one’s saying anything.”

“The
Reillies?”

“The
scouts report that they’re still meeting. The locals say it takes almost a week
for the burial ceremonies, and another two or three days to select a successor.
The Squawts have a council meeting or whatever they call it on Duadi.”

“That
gives us some time.”

“You
mean,” Rhystan parried, “it gives you time to recover. It’s not enough. It’s
going to be weeks, if not months, before you can use that arm again.”

“I’ll
just have to use my brain more.”

“I
believe I suggested that, sir.”

Mykel
caught the humorous glint in Rhystan’s eyes. “You did. I’ll even write up your
evaluation with a commendation for providing invaluable advice.” He managed a
grin.

“I’ll
take that, sir. I’d appreciate it even more if you make sure you’re around to
do the writing.”

“I’m
working on that. Have we had any dispatches or orders from the colonel or from
the Marshal of Myrmidons?”

“Nothing
yet, but we won’t get another sandox coach here until...”

“I
know. They don’t travel here on the end-days.” Mykel smiled as the orderly set
the breakfasts before him and Rhystan. “I have to say that it looks good.” But
then, after not being sure that he’d recover from what he’d been through,
anything looked good.

He
took another swallow of ale.

Octdi
evening had been warm enough, but the wind rose through the night, and by Novdi
morning a hot gale was whipping sand at the buildings and the pteridons. When
Dainyl looked outside, he could barely see the outline of the stables. Whether
he liked it or not — or Zelyert and the Duarches did — until the wind and
blowing sand subsided, no one was going to fly anywhere.

Before
long, other officers joined him, and Dainyl, Alcyna, Ghasylt, and Lyzetta stood
in what had been a very compact squad room. The chairs were too small for
comfortable sitting, except perhaps for Alcyna, but Dainyl knew she would never
sit while others stood.

“This
isn’t good,” offered Alcyna. “Sandstorm or not, they can still use the Table.”

“They
aren’t too likely to go anywhere, are they?” asked Ghasylt.

“They
could build up their forces and try to take another Table,” the submarshal
replied.

“That
would be harder. All the other Tables have been warned,” Dainyl said. “I don’t
like it, either, but there’s little enough we can do about it.”

The
thin walls of the building shuddered, and more grains of fine sand seeped
through the cracks around the shuttered windows and slowly tumbled down, adding
to the small piles growing on the floor against the outer wall.

“This
is winter,” Dainyl said. “I can’t imagine what it’s like in the summer.”

“I
don’t wish to, thank you,” replied Alcyna.

“The
sand won’t hurt the pteridons,” added Ghasylt. “They could use the rest.”

Although
it was more a recharging of lifeforce, Dainyl knew, Ghasylt was basically
right.

“Seventh
Company’s, too,” added Lyzetta. “I need to check with the squad leaders. I
think we got in a little local food last night.”

“That’d
be good,” added Ghasylt.

Both
captains departed, Ghasylt slightly after Lyzetta.

“She
reminds me of someone,” murmured Alcyna. “I can’t say whom, though. I feel I
should.”

“That’s
not surprising,” replied Dainyl, “given how few alectors we have on Acorus, and
how many you’ve met.”

“How
diplomatic of you, Marshal. By the way, has it occurred to you that there’s no
one really in command of the Myrmidons?”

“It
has. I’d hoped this would be over somewhat sooner, and one of us could return
to Elcien.”

“You
also didn’t want me to remain in Elcien with Zelyert,” suggested Alcyna. “I can
see that, but what about the other companies? Don’t you worry that he’ll send
orders to them directly?”

“That’s
possible, but Majer Keheryl will plead necessity to avoid them, and Fifth
Company is too far away to react immediately. Sevasya won’t do anything against
the interests of Khelaryt, and Captain Elysara will consult with Asulet.
Besides, I have my doubts that Zelyert will want the Myrmidons to do anything until
he knows what will happen here.”

“Can
this be the same officer who sought obedience to authorized orders from all
Myrmidons?” Alcyna’s voice was light, almost but not quite mocking.

“Exactly
the same. I’m just having more difficulty in knowing what an authorized order
might be.” And what it might cost us all.

“There’s
nothing worse than uncertainty in command,” parried Alcyna.

“Except
absolute certainty that’s wrong. That was what Shastylt offered.”

“You’re
suggesting something close to treason, Marshal.”

“I’m
suggesting nothing. I’m still obeying orders. But I can’t help but wonder about
the infallibility of a system that knows that thousands of alectors will have
to die for a small number to live, and that has known that it must be so for
thousands of years — and has done little to avoid it.” Dainyl shook his head.
“I’ve known it, too. It’s different when you see them die, and when you’ve even
killed some of them.”

Alcyna
looked squarely at him. “If you had been in charge of the Myrmidons who took
Soupat Table, no one would have been able to do anything until it was too late.
You’ve known who Noryan was for seasons, but you let him be. There are others
as well, knowing you. You respect courage and ability. Those who are fleeing
Ifryn now generally lack both foresight and ability, and courage alone is
merely stupidity.”