Authors: L. E. Modesitt
He
sat back listening, trying not to think of Wendra, or the ifrits, waiting for
his ale and food.
“Council’s
going to raise the road tariffs on the north highway .. .”
“About
time.”
“…
Praetor of Lustrea won’t like it…”
“…
he’s young… army got near wiped out by Aellyan Edyss two years back… can’t have
that many lancers now…”
“…
if he does… Council can just drop the tariffs… worth a try…”
“Right
about that… anything’s better ‘n more tariffs on us…”
Alucius
wasn’t sure, but the speaker who was concerned about tariffs looked to be a
merchant, rather than an landowner.
“Here’s
your ale. Be two.”
Alucius
handed over the coppers, and then took a slow swallow. The brew was heavy, a
darkish amber, but not bitter, and cool. He kept listening as he took small
swallows.
“…
need to be careful… say the Council wants to expand the lancers…”
“…
no reason… not these days…”
“…
why we need to be careful…”
“…oh…”
“Lord-Protector
all tied up with the Madriens… say they got a regent now…”
“Madrien
always been trouble…”
“…
wager it’ll be more now. Say… heard that daughter of yours…”
Alucius
lost the train of the conversation as the server returned again.
“Here’s
the fowl.”
“Maybe
you could help me.” Alucius handed over five coppers. “I just got here from the
west… Heard the Landarch was killed, and a Council’s running things. You know
who’s on the Council?”
The
server shrugged. “They say they’re all landowners. Don’t think anyone rightly
knows.”
Alucius
nodded. “Figured something like that. Thank you.”
She
offered a polite smile. “Let me know if you want another ale.”
“I
will.”
The
fowl was good, as were the plain noodles and bread that came with it, although
Alucius’s opinion of the fare might have been colored by his own hunger. Even
before he finished the last morsels, he found his eyes were so heavy that he
was almost nodding off at the table.
The
food and the warmth of the public room—and the exhaustion of days—left clearly
left Alucius feeling more than a little sleepy. He rose from the table and made
his way up to his room.
The
rifle remained where he had left it, and in addition to locking the door, he
slipped the bar standing behind it through the painted iron brackets to make
sure his sleep was not interrupted.
Then
he sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled off his boots and disrobed slowly. He
barely had pulled the covers up when sleep claimed him.
Northeast of Iron Stem, Iron Valleys
In
the early evening, the young man rode up the last part of the lane to the stead
house, a second unsaddled mount following his. Long before he reached the rail
at the base of the stairs, the older herder was standing there, bareheaded,
with the intermittent flakes of spring snow swirling around him.
“Sir…
I came as quick as I could.”
“You
talked to Alucius? You told him about Wendra?” asked Royalt.
“Yes,
sir.” Korcler swallowed. “He’s gone now, too.”
For
a long moment, Royalt just looked at the youth.
“I
didn’t do it, sir. I didn’t know what he was going to do.”
“We’ll
stall the mounts, and then you can tell us. Did you tell your folks?”
“No,
sir. I didn’t stop there. They… they didn’t want me to go to Dekhron. I
figured… I’d better tell you, first. Might not be going anywhere for a long
time, not after this. But I thought… someone… and now… it’s worse ‘n ever.”
Royalt
took the tether for the second mount and began to walk toward the stable.
Korcler rode slowly after the older man. Neither spoke until they were in the
stable and out of the wind.
“You
didn’t tell me your father had forbidden you to go to Dekhron,” Royalt said
after stalling the spare mount.
“He
didn’t say I couldn’t, sir,” Korcler replied. “I didn’t ask. He would have said
no. I knew that. And Alucius had to know about Wendra. He just had to.”
Royalt
took the saddle and racked it, then closed the stall. “We’ll finish here after
we go up to the house and you tell Lucenda and me everything that you know.”
“Yes,
sir.”
Royalt
closed the stable door and began to walk swiftly toward the house.
Korcler
had to stretch his legs to catch up. “You’re not mad at me, sir?”
“No,
Korcler. I’m not mad. Things could be a lot better, but I’m not mad.”
Once
they were inside the dwelling, Royalt ushered the youth into the kitchen.
There,
Lucenda set a mug of hot cider before him. “Have you eaten anything?”
“No…
ma’am. Not except for some biscuits and cheese Majer Feran sent with me.”
“I’ll
fix you something while you tell us what happened.”
“Alucius
is gone now, too,” Royalt said.
“How…
?” Lucenda’s mouth opened.
“I
told him about Wendra. I gave him what you wrote, sir, and he read it. He
turned real coldlike. I almost didn’t want to talk to him. Then he helped me
stable and groom the mounts and took me up to his quarters and gave me stuff to
eat. He wrote something to Majer Feran. I knew he was writing something. Then he
rode off. He wouldn’t let me come with him. He said he’d be back that night.”
The young man paused. “Except then… he said if he wasn’t, I was still to come
back and tell you, sir.” The youth’s look was almost defiant, but his eyes
skittered away from Royalt.
“He’s
gone after Wendra,” Lucenda said. “It has to be. She’s the only thing that
would make him do that. But… how does he know where she is?”
“I…
I don’t think he does, ma’am,” Korcler said. “He told me he couldn’t tell me
where he was going because he didn’t know.”
“It
has to be something to do with Tarolt.” Royalt frowned.
“That’s
it,” Korcler said.
“What
do you mean, young fellow?” asked Royalt.
“Well…
he didn’t come back. Even the next morning. So I went and found Majer Feran and
told him. Alucius left him a note. I don’t know what it said. The majer said it
was Guard business, but then he sort of smiled, and asked me if the colonel had
mentioned the name Tarolt. I told him he hadn’t and asked who that was. He said
he was a trader, and the only one of the old traders left after Halanat’s
death. Maybe I should have asked more, but that was all he said.”
“He
said Halanat was dead?”
“Yes,
sir. Clear as could be.”
“So
Alucius thinks Tarolt had something to do with this,” mused Royalt. “But he’s
vanished, too.”
“Yes,
sir.”
“He’s
alive.”
“He
said Wendra was alive and healthy. He said whatever it was happened in the
morning, but he didn’t know what it was.”
“He
didn’t tell you where he was going?”
“No,
sir.”
“This
won’t do Alucius much good as colonel,” said Lucenda.
“The
majer said that everyone knew sometimes the colonel went off and did things for
the Lord-Protector, and he’d suggest that was what happened.” Korcler took
another swallow of the cider.
“Can’t
purchase friends like that,” offered Royalt. “Feran’s putting his head on the
block and hoping no one’s nearby with an axe.”
“I’m
sorry, sir,” Korcler said. “Didn’t know as I’d be… causing trouble. I just
know… he’d want to know about Wendra. He would.”
Both
Lucenda and Royalt nodded.
Alucius
woke with the first light slanting through the small third-floor window of the
Red House. He yawned and rolled over carefully, then swung himself into a
sitting position on the edge of the bed. Sleep and food had definitely helped.
His eyes no longer burned, and while he was still sore in places, he was better
than he had been.
He
still had no idea where Wendra was, or how to proceed, and he certainly had no
idea exactly how to deal with the ifrits… or how he could even get back to
Dekhron safely. Whatever he did, or could do, he would need to eat before he
set out, and he would also need some small items, if they weren’t too
expensive—a water bottle that he could hook to his belt and some travel food.
He knew he could not get ammunition for the heavy Guard rifle—not in Dereka.
That had been a problem when he and the Northern Guard had been in Deforya
before.
After
dumping the water in the basin out the window and refilling it with what
remained in the pitcher, he washed up. Then, as he was dressing, he checked his
wallet. While he had added coins after getting paid the day before, he hadn’t
planned on traveling all across Corus. Still… he had two golds, six silvers,
and five coppers left—more than enough for what he needed in the way of food
and lodging and some modest supplies… for a short time.
Like
it or not, he was going to have to try to become more proficient in using the
Tables or portals, but if he started in Dereka, at least he’d have somewhere he
could come back to without having to confront an ifrit. At least, that was what
he hoped, but he certainly wasn’t certain, not after discovering the power of a
full ifrit in confronting Tarolt.
The
sky outside his small window was a grayish silver green when he unbarred and
unlocked the door. He left the rifle concealed and locked the room behind him.
Breakfast
in the public room consisted of egg toast, so brown it was almost burned, with
a berry syrup, two thick slices of tough ham, and a mug of ale. It cost him
another four coppers, but he wasn’t about to attempt any explorations on an
empty stomach.
More
than a glass later, he left the inn and began to walk southward along the main
boulevard. The morning was cool, not quite chill, with but a light wind blowing
out of the north. While the west side of the street was not empty, there were
far fewer vendors than there would be later in the day. Most of those seeking
to do business with the vendors were older women. Several glanced at him and
the heavy rifle he carried, but most paid him little attention.
A
block southward, he found a small store, not quite a chandlery, but one with
provisions and even a belt water bottle. He spent more than a silver for hard
cheese, travel bread, dried fruit and nuts, and the water bottle. He slipped
the food into various pockets in his jacket. Then, after leaving the store, he
had to retrace his steps to fill the bottle at the public fountain.
He
had just left the fountain when a company of lancers trotted by, heading
southward toward the Lancer Prime Base beyond the complex that had served as
the palace of the Landarch. Alucius did not recognize the captain and
overcaptain leading the column. The uniforms of the rankers at the end of the
column were considerably newer than those of the riders leading the column, and
several of the trailing riders glanced around them, as if they had not seen
Dereka before.
Alucius
did not cross the boulevard until he was opposite the ancient gold eternastone
building that held the portal. As he walked swiftly across the wide street, he
glanced around. His Talent showed no sign of any purpleness or any ifrits. He
had not noticed anything of that nature since he had arrived in Dereka. Nor had
he felt them when he had been an overcaptain fighting the nomads—except, of
course, in his dreams.
Still,
several of the vendors had been watching him, and he did not want to have
anyone note his return to the structure. So he walked past and then into an
alleyway that looked deserted. There, he concentrated on the illusion that he
was but a vagrant breeze, occasionally stirring up dust.
“…
see that?”
At
the words, Alucius stiffened, but held the Talent-illusion.
“See
what?”
“Herder
type… dark jacket… just went away…”
“Just
seeing things.”
“Tell
you, he was there. Big gray-haired fellow. Big as life…”
Alucius
smiled to himself as he eased out of the alleyway and made his way back into
the abandoned building, a structure that had to date back to the first ifrit
occupation of Corus. He moved quietly, trying to keep his steps from echoing in
the abandoned and cavernous interior.
He
paused as he heard steps on the stone floor. He flattened himself against the
wall of the corridor that led toward the chamber above the portal area, waiting
and listening. Two lancer officers walked down the corridor toward Alucius, followed
by two rankers. Alucius remained motionless, hoping that his illusion would
prove enough.
“…
you make of it?” asked the captain.
“…
strange… boot prints there… don’t see how they got there,” replied the
undercaptain, speaking as he walked past Alucius without even looking in the
colonel’s direction.
“…
you think it was a demon?”
“…
more likely a drunken ranker. Came down there, fell asleep, dust settled, and
when he woke, he left tracks going out.”
Alucius
nodded to himself. It was a perfectly good explanation, and one he hoped the
two officers reported. He did not move until the four men reached the end of
the corridor and took the short flight of steps that led to the north exit from
the building.
Then
he made his made back to the inside stone stairway that led down to the former
Table chamber, moving quietly and stopping to listen along the way. He neither
heard nor sensed anyone. The chamber was empty, but the dust on the stone floor
bore many boot tracks.
Alucius
released his own illusion and looked around the dimly lit chamber, studying it
more carefully than he had when he had first arrived there the afternoon
before. The walls were all of stone. There once might have been wooden paneling
or more ornate stone facings; but if so, no trace remained. Nor was there any
sign of ceiling decoration.