Soarers Choice (54 page)

“Thank
you,” murmured Dainyl as he stepped past her, maintaining his shields, as had
gotten to be a firm habit after the events of the past year.

She
closed the door behind him. Unlike Khelaryt’s study door, it did not click
warningly, but his boot heels did echo on the stretch of green and gold marble
floor between the door and the thick green carpet.

The
study was larger than the one Dainyl now had at the Hall of Justice, but by
only a third. The walls were paneled in golden oak, and rich deep blue hangings,
trimmed in crimson, framed the single window. The oblong table desk was also
oak, and clear of all papers, with two oak armchairs on one side and one
between it and the wall. On the paneled wall above and behind the single chair
was a painting of the Palace, a good two yards in width and little more than
half that in height, showing it from the north, as it might have appeared in
spring years before. Under the window was a single bookcase, filled to
overflowing with ledgers. The one window looked out into a small courtyard that
held little more than a white marble table and bench, and a raised green marble
planter three yards in length and less than one in width, holding low plants
with fading gold blossoms.

Chembryt
stood before the table desk, to the side of the chair nearest the window. He
inclined his head in welcome.

“I
appreciate your taking the time to see me,” offered Dainyl.

“You
do me the honor of calling on me, and it is always an honor to receive the High
Alector of Justice.”

“It’s
equally an honor to be received by the High Alector of Finance,” replied
Dainyl.

Chembryt
gestured to the chairs in front of the table desk, then seated himself in one.

Dainyl
took the other, turning it slightly so that he could look directly at the older
High Alector.

“If
I might note,” began Chembryt cautiously, “your Talent and shields bear a
certain tinge. Green, I believe.”

“Unhappily,
yes,” agreed Dainyl. “You might call that a combat injury. It occurred in the
Hyalt operation last harvest ...” He went on to explain how Rhelyn had used the
ancients’ Talent weapon against him, finally concluding, “I had hoped the
effect would fade, and at times it has seemed to, but then it returns. The
Duarches are both aware of it, and it has not seemed to trouble them.”

“It
does give you a dangerous aura, and that is not all unwelcome for the High
Alector of Justice, not in these days and times. I had heard you have been
receiving petitions ...”

“I
have. Necessary and informative as it is, it is also discouraging to see the
pettiness behind so many of them.”

“The
steers can be petty, and many are.” Chembryt laughed. “If we’re being honest,
though, I’d have to say that so are some alectors.”

“But
it’s usually not over golds.”

“No.
That’s true. It’s more likely to be over who controls what resources or what
land.”

“That
sounds very familiar,” suggested Dainyl. “That was what happened last year in
Coren and in a few other places.”

“It
will be a growing problem in years to come as there are more and more steers,
and more alectors. They only think of golds, and we want matters our way and
tend not to think of why they think of golds.”

“Why
is that, do you think?”

“They
have so many children. How could they not think of golds? They must feed and
clothe them, teach and train them.” Abruptly, Chembryt shook his head. “I must
confess that I miss your wife, not that I begrudge her the fortune and
recognition of being regional alector. She was the best chief assistant I ever
had. That’s saying quite a bit, you know.”

Dainyl
smiled. “I’ve known for many years that she was extraordinarily capable.”

“Everyone
thought that the only reason you became operations chief for the Myrmidons was
because Shastylt wanted whatever information she might pass to you — and
because you could rely on her.”

“I’ve
always been able to rely on her,” replied Dainyl. “Her judgment is excellent.”

“That
may well be, Dainyl, but it is clear from even casual observation that you have
more Talent-strength than did either Shastylt or Zelyert. Yet neither of them
recognized that. Nor did I when you appeared before the High Alectors not that
long ago. Now, even behind shields, you approach Khelaryt in strength.”

“Lystrana
counseled me early to develop shields first, and I did.” Dainyl shrugged. “I
found it useful.” He paused. “There is no way ... I would not wish to be
presumptuous or ingenuous ... but I have no interest in becoming Duarch. I have
even less interest in having Khelaryt replaced, or in seeing more power in the
hands of Samist or Brekylt.”

“I
had wondered ...”

“Wonder
no more.” Dainyl laughed. “I’m a Myrmidon, and I prefer to avoid indirection in
all its forms. Lystrana could tell you that, if she has not already.”

“She
has mentioned that.” Chembryt pursed his lips. “How did you manage for Lystrana
to be appointed regional alector?”

“I
asked. I actually asked for her to become regional alector in Tempre, but she
was offered Dereka. The choice was hers.”

“So
she said.”

“I
could not ask her to do that which was not in her interest and nature.”

“I
can see that.” There was a silence.

“What
information might I provide?” Chembryt’s eyes held a twinkle. “That you have
not already discovered?”

“How
did Ruvryn manage to conceal the diversion of enough golds to produce over five
thousand Cadmian rifles to ship to indigens and landers across the western half
of Corus?”

Chembryt
pulled at his chin. “You phrased that inquiry in a rather interesting fashion,
and one that supposes that such rifles were in fact produced and diverted.”

Dainyl
laughed. “I’ve already documented over three thousand. Ruvryn has avoided any
direct answer, and it appears that neither Shastylt nor Zelyert wished to dwell
on the matter. At least, I never received a satisfactory explanation. Why, I
cannot say, but the fact of the production and diversion is not up for
question. Nor is the production of a number of portable weapons based on
road-building equipment that were used against Myrmidons by Regional Alector
Rhelyn. Both of those bring up the question of how such enterprises were paid for.”

“Simply
put, the funds were requested for other purposes, in a number of accounts that
had been inflated for years. When we discovered the irregularities, we
originally supposed that the diversions had gone entirely into the heavier
lightcutting weapons, especially after the unfortunate events involving
Zestafyn. Until she was given some clues, even Lystrana could not deduce what
was occurring, and then only after looking at the internal records of the High
Alector of Engineering.”

“Was
Zestafyn only what he was supposed to be?”

Chembryt
smiled. “That is another interesting question. You might wish to clarify it.”

“I
have the feeling that he was more. Otherwise his wife would not have been able
to kill herself with a weapon she did not have, supposedly in sorrow over his
death, but in fact even before she could have known about it.”

“It
is rumored that she was not unfamiliar with those connected to the Archon, but
there was never any proof. I assume that is what you were asking.”

“I
said I was poor at indirection,” Dainyl replied with a laugh.

“What
else would you like to know?”

“I
think you have been more than kind,” Dainyl said, “and I will save other
inquiries for the time when I know enough to ask.” That was more true than
Chembryt would have guessed, Dainyl judged, and he did not wish to admit too
much ignorance, nor to press at the moment. “I thank you for your kindness.”

“And
I appreciate your forthrightness. Khelaryt is fortunate, indeed.”

“I’m
fortunate that he is Duarch.”

“We
both are.” Chembryt rose.

Dainyl
stood, and the two High Alectors laughed.

Since
he did not have to receive petitions on Octdi, Dainyl spent the first few
glasses of the morning going over the master ledgers of the High Alector of
Justice. He learned little, except that the golds allotted to the Cadmian
Mounted Rifle Regiments had been decreased each year for the past three years.
There was a discretionary account for the High Alector of five thousand golds,
but no details on the expenditures. On what had Zelyert spent five thousand
golds every year? Or had he?

He
finally summoned Adya and had her sit down at the table in his private study.

“The
High Alector’s discretionary account — on what are those funds spent?”

“The
Highest is only accountable to the Duarches for such a discretionary account.”

That
told Dainyl less than nothing, since any of the High Alectors were accountable
only to the Duarch to whom they reported. “Are there any records of that
account?”

“I
do not know, sir. Luftyne would be the only one who could answer that.”

At
that moment, there was a knock on the study door.

“The
Marshal of Myrmidons is here, sir,” offered Patrylon.

“Have
her come in.” Dainyl stood and looked at Adya. “We’ll finish this after I talk
to the marshal — and bring Luftyne.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Behind
the pleasant tone, she was worried. That, Dainyl could sense, but not why.

Alcyna
stepped into the small study and inclined her head. “Highest...”

“You
can close the door.” Dainyl gestured to the chairs. Alcyna took one.

“This
is a very modest study.”

“Your
study has a far better view,” he replied with a smile. “I assume there’s a
problem, since you hurried here.”

“Yes,
sir. We got a message from the Cadmian commander in Iron Stem. It was addressed
to you as Marshal of Myrmidons. I took the liberty of opening it.” Alcyna
placed the dispatch on the table. “There was an earthquake and a flood. The dam
west of Iron
Ste.
burst, and the ironworks has been
almost totally destroyed. Nothing else was severely damaged.”

“The
ancients,” said Dainyl.

“How
can you surmise that? He never mentioned them.”

“An
earthquake and a flood that destroy only the ironworks? In one of the towns
closest to the Aerial Plateau, where there have been increasingly frequent
reports of the ancients’ creatures? When Ruvryn has been pressing for
production of more iron and copper?” Dainyl frowned. “You better send a
dispatch to both Duarches and to Ruvryn ... if you haven’t already. Just the
facts, and nothing about the ancients ... but note that it is unusual for
damage to be so severe in one area while yards away there was little.”

“I
left Zernylta to draft them while I briefed you. I’ll add that observation.”

“Ruvryn
will try to blame us, either for lack of timely warning or for being the cause
of the problem. It might be best if you told him you were sending the message
on the chance that he had not already heard from his engineers. Oh ... if you
have not already considered it, send a note thanking Majer Mykel for his
thoughtfulness in keeping you informed.”

“I
had thought to do so.” She frowned. “I cannot say I have ever seen a Cadmian
dispatch directly to the Myrmidons, even a copied dispatch.”

“He
is the only Cadmian officer I know who ever has.”

“Trusting
a Cadmian can be dangerous, sir.”

“No
more dangerous than trusting Samist or Brekylt. Besides, receiving and
encouraging information is not quite the same as trusting.”

Alcyna
nodded, if dubiously.

“Have
you heard anything from Submarshal Noryan?”

“No,
sir. But it is not likely that he would have received your orders yet.”

That
was all too true, and there was little to be done there until Dainyl knew how
Noryan would react. Or Josaryk, for that matter, still in Lysia, presumably.

“What
do you recommend we do about Iron Stem?” asked Dainyl.

“Send
two pteridons from Tempre on a reconnaissance.”

Dainyl
nodded. “Also have them check the Vedra at Dekhron. Is there anything else?”

“When
will you release the Myrmidons from duty in Blackstear?”

“Whenever
you can spare enough pteridons. for two or three days to ferry five or six
alector guards up there — assuming we can find any.”

“I
can spare two trainees more than the squad of Myrmidons. Can you find three
more guards, sir? If so, we can ferry them up in the morning, weather
permitting. At dawn.”

“Plan
on it, then. I’ll talk to Chastyl.” Dainyl smiled. “Is there anything else?”

“Not
at the moment, sir.” Alcyna returned the smile.

Once
Alcyna left, Dainyl walked to the Table chamber looking for Chastyl, but only
Diordyn, his assistant, was there.

“When
he returns, tell the recorder I need a moment with him.”

“Yes,
sir.”

He
returned to his study, only to find Adya standing in the corridor with a wiry
alectress who carried two ledgers, one heavy and thick, and the other slim.
From the dark purple of her aura, Dainyl judged she was possibly the oldest
assistant serving the High Alector of Justice.

“This
is Luftyne, sir,” said Adya.

“Highest.”
Luftyne bowed.

“
‘Sir’ will do.” Dainyl closed the door and walked to the table, seating himself
and waiting for them to sit down.

“How
might I serve you?”

“There
is a discretionary account of some five thousand golds ...” Dainyl waited.

“That
is the amount for the year, Highest. At the moment, the balance is slightly
over five hundred. That is not unusual, since it is so close to the end of the
financial year.”

“Is
it possible to determine where the golds in the account went?”