Soarers Choice (70 page)

Dainyl
nodded for him to continue.

“Since
about midnight, we have seen absolutely no wild translations. I checked with
some of the other recorders. They haven’t seen any, either.”

A
chill ran through Dainyl. “You’re certain of that?”

“Yes,
sir.”

“Tell
me, Chastyl... have you noticed anything else out of the ordinary? Or the
absence of something normal?”

The
recorder pursed his lips, then tilted his head. His forehead furrowed. After a
moment, he replied, “Outside of that, I cannot say that I have, Highest.”

“If
you do, please tell me immediately — and thank you for telling me about the
wild translations... or rather, about their absence.”

After
the recorder left, Dainyl sat in silence. There were only three possible
reasons for the sudden elimination of wild translations, and all of them
suggested that the transfer of the Master Scepter was imminent, possibly within
the next day, if not already under way. Yet there was little more he could do,
beyond what he had already put in motion.

He
felt as though both his hands and legs were tied, or that he’d been chained in
an underground cavern with unbreakable Talent chains. No matter what he felt,
he couldn’t offer more evidence than he had, and couldn’t prove anything, and
he didn’t have the authority to order further action without effectively
becoming a rebel himself.

Finally,
he got up and walked to his chief assistant’s study.

“Adya
... make sure that the coach is standing by for me. I may need it at any time.”

“Yes,
sir.”

“Thank
you.” Dainyl returned to his study and looked at the ancient stone wall
opposite him. How had it all come to this?

Less
than a quarter glass later, Chastyl appeared at his door once more, this time
with a young and wide-eyed alector. “This is Balyt. He says he was sent from
Lyterna.”

Dainyl
gestured them both into the study.

Chastyl
closed the door carefully, but stood back as Balyt stepped forward.

“I’m
Balyt, Highest,” stammered the young alector.

“Yes?”

“I’m
the most junior of Myenfel’s assistants, and that’s why he sent me. They’re
fighting, sir. It’s awful. It’s all over Lyterna.”

“Who’s
fighting, and why are you here?”

The
young alector straightened. “Paeylt and the engineers tried to storm the upper
levels. Asulet blocked them and sent me to Myenfel through the hidden ways.
Paeylt’s killing all the old alectors and anyone who won’t pick up a
lightcutter for him. Myenfel’s got the Table chamber blocked, but he doesn’t
know how long he can hold it.”

Dainyl
rose. Maybe he could at least do something in Lyterna.

“Ah...
sir...”

“What?”

“Asulet
and Myenfel sent a message.” Balyt fumbled and pulled a folded sheet of paper
from his pale green shimmersilk tunic, extending it to Dainyl.

Dainyl
unfolded the sheet and read it. Then, short as it was, he read it again, his
eyes running over the words and letters.

Dainyl,
The time is upon us, and Paeylt will attempt to take Lyterna. Whatever you may
do, leave the Hall of Justice and do not attempt the Tables or come to Lyterna
until it is all over.

The
signature was that of Asulet, and Dainyl could even gain a Talent-sense of the
ancient alector tied to the words and paper.

“Did
either Myenfel or Asulet say anything?” pressed Dainyl.

“Oh,
yes, sir. Asulet did, sir.”

“What
did he say?” Dainyl was trying to control his exasperation.

“Ah
... sir ...”

“What?”
snapped Dainyl.

“Asulet...
he said that you’d better know what he meant... and that if you didn’t...”
Balyt’s voice trailed off.

“And
if I didn’t...?”

“Then
... then ... you deserved whatever happened ...”

Whatever
happened? Dainyl disliked those words. He looked at Chastyl. “Is there any
change in the Tables?”

“There
are more... Talent waves. At least, there were right after Balyt arrived.”

“Once
the Archon starts to transfer the Scepter... how long will it take?”

“I
cannot say. The translation would seem immediate, but time passes to others ...
outside the tube. It could be several glasses, or it might be longer. Days,
conceivably. I know of no records, Highest.”

“Go
check the Table right now and report back immediately.”

“Yes,
sir.” Chastyl scurried out, leaving the study door ajar.

Dainyl
turned back to Balyt. “Does Paeylt have any other weapons besides
lightcutters?”

“They’re
not like the ones the Myrmidons sometimes carry, sir. They’re bigger, like
rifles, and the light-flame is blue-green. It’s much stronger.”

Had
Paeylt been the one who developed them? He could have gotten or brought the
designs from Ifryn.

“Who
was winning?”

“I
don’t know, sir. Asulet had done something that blocked Paeylt from the upper
levels, and that was why Paeylt was killing anyone who wouldn’t tell him what
Asulet had done. That’s what Myenfel said. But no one knew what he’d done. Even
Myenfel didn’t.”

That
gave Dainyl some hope.

Chastyl
burst back into the study. “Highest... I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Like
what?” Couldn’t anyone describe what was happening?

“The
whole Table is flashing, between brilliant purple and black-purple.”

Dainyl
jumped to his feet. “It’s time to clear the Hall of Justice ...” Before he
could say more, a wave of blackish purple washed over him, and the entire Hall
of Justice strobed between purple and green, and then between black and purple.

Diordyn
pounded on the door to the study, then burst inside without waiting for an
acknowledgment.

“Highest!
They’re moving the Master Scepter! No one should use the Tables! The flashes
from the Table killed the guards.”

Dainyl
rushed into the corridor. “Clear the Hall! Get everyone out of the Hall. Right
now! Leave everything!” Adya appeared instantly.

“Adya.
Get everyone out of here and out of the Hall of Justice above. Don’t tell
anyone up there why. They’re moving the Master Scepter, and the Table’s giving
off killing Talent. Send a message to the Duarch. You take it personally to
Bharyt, not the Duarch. Tell him that the Archon has started to transfer the
Master Scepter.”

“Me,
sir?”

“You.
I’ve got to get to Myrmidon headquarters!”

After
those words, Dainyl bolted for the stairs, sprinting up and out of the Hall and
down the stone steps to the coach, barely noting that the sky was a cold but
clear silver-green.

“Myrmidon
headquarters! As fast as you can!” He jumped into the coach and closed the door
behind himself, all in one motion.

As
the coach clattered down the boulevard toward Myrmidon headquarters, Dainyl
found himself worrying more about Lystrana than what was happening in Elcien —
although she was certainly far safer in the RA’s complex in Dereka than she
would have been in the Duarch’s Palace. He also found himself looking out the
coach window into the clear silver-green sky to the south, seeking the
pteridons that would surely be headed toward the Duarch’s Palace.

As
soon as the coach came to a stop outside Myrmidon headquarters, Dainyl was out
the door. “Stand by here!” he called to the driver over his shoulder as he ran
up the steps of the building.

He
burst through the doors and into the front foyer before the duty desk.

“Highest?”
asked Undercaptain Yuasylt.

“The
marshal?” Dainyl didn’t finish the question. He could sense Alcyna hurrying
down the hallway toward him.

Alcyna
stopped in midstride as she saw Dainyl.

“The
Archon is moving the Master Scepter,” he said. “The Tables are throwing off
killing energy. We’d best expect an attack anytime.”

“It’s
already under way. I sent a messenger to the Hall.”

“I
was already on my way here. Go on.” Dainyl motioned for her to continue.

“The
patrols have already reported a force of sandoxen and unmarked coaches moving
toward us from Ludar. There are heavy wagons as well, and alectors in black and
silver. They’re less than fifteen vingts away. There’s a formation of
pteridons, circling to the south, east of the bay, and the two ships to the
south-southwest are making full speed for Elcien.”

Dainyl
forced himself to take a slow deep breath. From all that, it was clear that the
attackers hadn’t known exactly when the Master Scepter would be moved, or they
would have timed their assault to the exact moment.

After
a pause, he asked, “What have you planned?”

“Once
the ships get closer, Seventh Company will deal with them. Captain Lyzetta has
developed something special. Fifth Company will deal with the ground forces,
and First Company will lead the attack against the pteridons, possibly with two
squads from Seventh Company, as well as the others once they’ve sunk the
ships.”

Alcyna
made it sound so simple, and so easy.

Dainyl
almost laughed, realizing that when he’d been submarshal and marshal, he’d done
the same. “How close are the ships?”

“A
quarter glass in flight time.”

“Have
Lyzetta take them out now.”

“Before
they do anything?” Alcyna raised her eyebrows. “Do we know — “

“Can
we risk waiting?”

The
marshal gave a brisk nod. “If you’ll excuse me, sir.”

Dainyl
nodded, then walked to the back of the foyer and through the door to the rear
courtyard. From there, he surveyed the pteridons on their squares, and the
Myrmidons standing by, waiting for orders.

Alcyna
crossed the courtyard.

Dainyl
watched as she spoke to Captain Lyzetta, then stepped away.

Shortly,
two squads of pteridons lifted off, led by Lyzetta. Four of the Talent
creatures carried slings. In those slings were large metal cylinders that
radiated Talent energy. Dainyl felt limited and helpless, just watching, but
what else could he do now, except watch?

Alcyna
walked back across the courtyard to Dainyl. “I’d prefer to wait until their
pteridons commit, and until we see how Lyzetta’s scheme works.”

“Do
you know what’s in those cylinders?”

“I
can’t claim I understand totally. She said that it combines something like a
lightcutter with Lifeforce-coated crossbow quarrels and Talent-boosted blasting
powder.” Alcyna smiled ironically. “She said she got the
i.e.
from you.”

From
him? “It’s supposed to sink the ships?”

“She
didn’t say. She just said that they should take care of the ships.”

Dainyl
looked southward, but the pteridons were out of sight.

“You
actually look worried, Highest,” offered Alcyna.

“I
am.”

A
single pteridon swept in over the southern wall, flared against the north wind,
and settled onto the landing stage. As he accompanied Alcyna toward the raised
stone stage, Dainyl recognized the flier — Vorosylt from First Company’s second
squad.

Vorosylt
had dismounted, but remained beside his pteridon. “Marshal... Highest... the
pteridons are forming and heading northward toward Elcien. They’re about twenty
vingts south right now.”

Less
than a third of a glass away, thought Dainyl.

“How
many?”

“More
than a company. Might be two.”

“Stand
by, Vorosylt,” ordered Alcyna, “Captain Ghasylt and all of First Company will
be lifting off in a moment.” She turned, but the captain had clearly seen the
incoming scout and was running across the courtyard.

“Marshal,
do we lift off?” asked Ghasylt as he halted before Alcyna, looking down on her.

“This
moment. Intercept and destroy the attackers.”

“Yes,
sir!” Ghasylt turned, loping across the courtyard toward his own pteridon,
waiting on the first row of stone squares. “First Company! Lift off by squads!
First squad!”

Alcyna
hurried toward the west side of the courtyard, directly toward Fifth Company.
She had not covered ten yards when the pteridons of first squad rose, springing
into the air and spreading their blue leathery wings, climbing out northward
into the wind and then banking into an eastward turn over Elcien before heading
southward. Once all of First Company was airborne, Fifth Company followed. In
less than a tenth of a glass, only two squads of pteridons remained in the
headquarters courtyard-^both from Seventh Company.

Alcyna
and Dainyl stood beside the empty flight stage.

“I’m
holding the last two squads for a bit, to see where they’re needed,” offered
Alcyna. “If we don’t get a report in a quarter glass, I’ll send them to defend
the Palace.”

Dainyl
could feel Talent forces of some sort from the south, and he turned. Scattered
quick lines of blue and blue-green light flashed skyward.

“Lightcannon
... those must be coming from the ships,” said Alcyna.

Dainyl
snorted. There was the proof he had not been able to provide, proof that
Alseryl had defected, proof that Samist and Brekylt were working together
against Khelaryt. Both he and Khelaryt had been so worried about pteridons
versus pteridons — and now look what they had.

He
and Alcyna stood by the flight stage ... waiting.

They
could have waited inside, out of the chill, but to Dainyl that wouldn’t have
felt right.

“Why
did he let it happen?” Alcyna looked at Dainyl.

“Khelaryt?”
Dainyl shook his head. “I can only guess that he was so worried about the
lifeforce losses from direct fighting against them that he hoped they’d feel
the same way. I’ve warned him about it. All the lightcannon and light-rifles
show that they don’t care.”

“I’ve
known that about Brekylt for years. Khelaryt should have.”

How
many alectors should have known over the years? A dull muffled boom rumbled out
of the south, and the walls of the compound and the buildings shook.