Legacies (28 page)

On the morning after the reinforcements had arrived in Pyret, headed by Majer Dysar, and directly after what passed for breakfast, Alucius was in the front room of the small stead house which had become a headquarters of sorts. He stood there, along with the Third Company scouts, Ilten, Captain Heald, and a number of officers he didn't know.

“The only real problem we have,” Majer Dysar announced, pacing slowly back and forth in front of the ancient iron stove, “is their spear-throwing device. According to scouts from Third Company, if we can rely on such, the spear-thrower is not in open view. If such is the case, that means that it cannot be used if we attack quickly, and depart quickly. We will do so in quick raids until it becomes obvious where the device is. Once we determine that, we can concentrate our attacks wherever device is not, as should have been obvious earlier…”

“Tomorrow evening, Sixth Company will undertake an attack on the horse outpost. The tactics will be simple. One squad will infiltrate the road south of Soulend, and allow the road patrol to pass southward. Once the patrol is well past, the rest of the company will attack from the south. The Matrite patrol will either perish immediately or retreat and be destroyed by the first squad. Then Sixth Company will move as quietly as possible to Soulend, where it will either take out the guards there, and proceed westward on the midroad, or dash past, if the guards are not in a position to challenge the company. Thirteenth Company will be standing by here, in the event that the Matrites think that they can outflank us and push southward. I doubt that they will…”

Alucius thought the plan was possible. What Majer Dysar did not seem to realize was that, effective as his plan might be, it was the sort of plan that Captain Heald had never had the resources to implement, not without risking his entire command and leaving the entire north open to a sweep southward by the Matrite forces.

“Third Company scouts will be required to familiarize scouts from Sixth and Thirteenth Company with the roads and terrain. Captain Heald will pick his four best scouts…”

Alucius concealed a wince. There were only five scouts left, and there was little point in excluding one just to have an even number. And if the majer wanted that number, he could have just drawn Captain Heald aside and asked him to assign four scouts.

Captain Heald smiled politely. “We only have five scouts, and they are all good.”

“Sir,” Ilten interjected politely, “Narlet's mount is somewhat lame, and that might slow him down. I would suggest the other four this time.”

“That's fine,” the majer replied. “You can work out your scouts, and Captain Tregar and Captain Vanas will provide two scouts each.”

In less than a glass, Alucius found himself paired with Drengel, a wiry and black-bearded older trooper from Sixth Company. The two left Pyret, riding northward toward Soulend on the now clear eternastone high road. The sky remained clear, but the silver-green held the darker shade of winter, rather than the brighter hues of the warmer seasons.

“You're a herder, I take it?” asked Drengel, with the hint of a smile.

“How did you figure that?”

“You're young. You're good, and you've survived.”

Alucius had used his Talent-sense on Drengel, but didn't feel anything like the faint tinge of silver-and-green flecks or streaks that herders showed. “And you're experienced and had to work a long time at reading the smallest of signs.”

Drengel laughed, openly. “Just so as we understand.”

Alucius understood. “How long have you been with Sixth Company?”

“Sixth Company's my second tour. Did four years with First Company when it was at Rivercliff. Sometimes, ran into Matrite patrols if we went too far west.”

“Ever have to fight them?”

Drengel shook his head. “We had orders not to fire unless they fired first. They never did. Had big patrols, though. Either eight or sixteen.”

“They do eight here.”

“What do you think about the majer's plan?”

“The majer might be able to stop them—if he can keep away from the spear-thrower.”

“Let's hope so. Tregar and Vanas are good captains.”

Alucius wasn't exactly reassured by that answer, and Drengel's omission of the majer, but it squared with what he'd already observed. He glanced up the road. “We'll have to head out into the flats before long. Do you want to circle to the east and then north or west and north?”

“What do you think?” countered Drengel.

“East and north. There are some back roads that they don't use much…yet.”

Alucius had not slept well on Quinti night, not after being grilled endlessly by Majer Dysar about his scouting, who questioned everything. Nor did he sleep well the following night, but few had. His dreams had been less than pleasant, with visions of the Matrites overrunning his stead and Iron Stem and slaughtering Wendra, even as he was unable to speak, unable to reach her.

With such thoughts and dreams, he wasn't surprised to find Third Company mustered out on foot on Septi morning. The majer was nowhere around.

Captain Heald was the one explaining matters to Third Company in the chill air. “…be taking some stead roads to the west, and then we'll attack from the west end of the outpost. The other companies will also be attacking. Thirteenth Company has a plan for dealing with their spear-throwing thing…Once we're on the road, Third Company scouts will be out front two vingts, with the vanguard a vingt before the main body…”

Alucius didn't mind being out in front with Geran and Waltar and Henaar, although he now clearly understood his grandsire's advice about the advantages of scouting alone.

“Draw your rations and cartridge belts, then meet out here with your mounts in half a glass. Dismissed to make ready.”

Alucius nodded to Kypler, and to Velon, as the three readied their gear and then made their way to the stable, a scene of cramped chaos, with more horses than space or stalls. Like the others, Alucius was more than ready to face the cold after dealing with the makeshift stable.

Third Company was the first to leave Pyret, but stayed on the main road for less than two vingts before turning westward on another stead road. Then, Ilten dispatched the five scouts and the vanguard.

Geran glanced from scout to scout as they eased forward away from the vanguard and the main body of Third Company. “We'll alternate checking out the rises.” Geran looked to Henaar. “You want to cover the north side of the road for now?”

“Fine by me.”

“I'll take the south side,” Narlet suggested.

While Narlet and Henaar headed out, Alucius, Geran, and Waltar rode abreast on the stead road, barely wide enough for the three.

“Do you know what everyone else is doing?” Alucius asked.

“I haven't heard, but it seems that the majer's idea…” Geran lowered his voice, even though no one else was within hundreds of yards, “is to attack from several directions around supper time. He figures their spear-thrower can't fire in all directions at the same time. He wants to take or destroy the weapon and their use of the outpost. Without the weapon, they lose their advantages, and we can attack them patrol by patrol until we destroy them or they retreat.”

“Unless they send more companies,” Waltar pointed out dryly. “Madrien is a bit larger than the Iron Valleys.”

“I'd be more worried that they sent another spear-thrower,” Geran said.

Alucius listened as they rode west-northwest on the stead road that seemed to angle, if gradually, toward the ancient midroad.

After about a glass, Geran dispatched Alucius to scout the parts of the land to the north of the midroad that were hidden by low rises, or washes, or the infrequent ruined hut or stead. The wind continued to blow out of the northeast. Even from his position well south of the midroad, Alucius could feel with his Talent that there were more sandwolves near the Matrite base. He could also feel the background red-violet of sanders, and that was something that was unusual in winter. Not unheard of, but unusual. He worried some about the pinkish purple Talent, but he didn't sense it—not yet.

Slightly after midday, Third Company halted for a ration and water break, and Captain Heald gathered the scouts back to the main company. His face had gotten thinner and more drawn, and he had deep black circles under his eyes.

As soon as all five scouts had assembled around him at the head of the main column, the captain began, “The main body of the company will be taking station behind the second rise to the west of wash where we ambushed them before about half a vingt to the north of the midroad. We'll be standing down and resting there. First squad will be attacking the road posts and the road patrols, but the other squads need other ways to hit from the west. There have to be stock trails or something where there's less quarasote. I'm detaching you five to see what you can find. I want you back at the muster area at least a glass before sunset.” Heald looked to Geran. “I leave it to you, Geran, to assign them as you think best. And to take whatever route you decide.”

The captain eased his mount away from the scouts and back toward another group perhaps fifteen yards eastward—Ilten and the squad leaders.

“To get any information and get to the muster area,” Geran pointed out, “we'll need to head northwest so that we get to the midroad almost at the wash.”

“They have to have a sentry point somewhere. They had one at the base of the hills before,” Alucius said. “Would it be faster to head west on this road for a time and then go north to try to catch the wash south of the midroad?”

“Might be,” suggested Waltar. “A lot less quarasote and a lot more cover in the wash areas and those low bluffs.”

Henaar nodded. Narlet just looked from face to face.

“That's what we'll do,” Geran said. “Best we start now.”

After barely a quarter glass, the narrow road ended abruptly at the ruins of an abandoned stead. Another road headed northward, slightly west as well, clearly straight to the midroad.

“From what I figure,” Waltar said dryly, “that'd be the road that comes out at the old outpost. Be a quick way to get there.”

“Be a quick way to get everyone chasing us.” Geran laughed.

For the five scouts, the going through the quarasote to the west of the stead was slower, but not so difficult as it had been east of Soulend for Alucius because the quarasote near the Westerhills was farther apart and smaller. Alucius could see why the stead had been abandoned. The nightsheep that fed on the quarasote nearby would have had inferior coats, and the sparseness of the forage would have meant a smaller flock.

They continued riding westward until they reached a flat area where the outflow from the wash had spread across the land.

There, Geran reined up. “We'll follow this north to where the wash deepens. I'm going to take the area that runs off the quarter that's from northwest to west-northwest. Alucius will take the quarter from west-northwest to just above the midroad. Narlet, you see what you can see on the midroad and both sides—sentry posts, numbers, arms, guard huts. Henaar—west to west-southwest, and Waltar—west-southwest to southwest. We're looking for livestock trails, washes without much quarasote…ways to move quickly to the outpost without being seen.” The senior scout glanced from one face to another. “Meet at the muster area at least a glass before sunset.”

Waltar immediately headed northwest, and after a quarter glass so did Henaar. Narlet split off shortly afterward.

That left Geran and Alucius riding northward. They halted behind a low bluff, shielded by a turn in the wash to the west, just south of the midroad. The two peered around the bluff at the arched stone culvert that allowed the water to flow under the road—a culvert far too small and low for a mount. The road, a good two yards above the flat of the wash, looked to be clear of road patrols. Alucius did not sense any troopers nearby.

“I don't see anyone around.” Geran looked to Alucius. “But we can't see eastward without climbing onto the road and exposing ourselves.”

“The sentry posts on the road are to the east,” Alucius replied. “It feels clear to cross.”

Still, they rode out into the open section of the wash carefully, and then up the gradual slope on the west side. Once they reached the road, Alucius couldn't see any patrols on the midroad, and even the tracks on the light snow on each shoulder of the road and on the snow-dusted surface of the eternastone paving looked to be days old.

Before long, Alucius was on his own, riding carefully up to the back side of the next-to-last gentle rise before the outpost. The last rise might have patrols. He found a quarasote bush that looked stronger than most and used an extended tether rope to tie the gray gelding. Then, he eased up the rise to the top where he studied the next rise, a good three hundred yards away.

After a time, seeing no patrols, he slipped back down and reclaimed the gray. If he were discovered, he certainly didn't want to have to run through quarasote for up to half a vingt with mounted pursuers. On the back side of the more eastern rise, he once again tethered the gray, to quarasote, since there were no old marker posts, and eased up the back side of the slope. On the top, he flattened himself. He had recalled correctly. Half a vingt or so to the east were the stable and sheds of his own former outpost—and the current Matrite encampment.

Now, all he had to do was find a stock trail that led relatively directly back to the wash. For a time, he just studied the encampment, figuring how it might have been laid out as a stead. Then he studied the ground. After a good quarter glass, he found what he sought. He kept looking for a time, but there was only one possibility from where he was looking. There might have been one to the northwest, but to make sure of that, he would have to get within fifty yards of a guard post in full sun.

Instead, after slipping back behind the rise, he eased along the western side, heading southward. Less than a hundred yards to the south, he found a two yard wide patch of clear ground that ran uphill to a low spot in the rise. With a faint smile, he scuttled up along the ancient stock path to just below where he could be seen from the encampment, then wiggled to his left on his stomach, and then forward to make sure the old path did run toward the stable.

He wormed his way back to the western side of the rise, then followed the path downhill, keeping low. Once in the flat between the two rises, the stock trail turned southwest. Alucius reclaimed the gray and followed the trail, which did lead to the wash. He continued westward, and Henaar, Waltar, and Narlet were waiting as he rode into the muster area.

“Did you see Geran?” asked Waltar when Alucius reined up next to the other scouts, gathered to the north of where the main body of what remained of Third Company was standing down and sampling field rations.

“No.” Alucius glanced at the bucket of water, only a third full, set beside a quarasote bush.

“That's for your mount. Delar left them for us.”

Alucius dismounted, then looked at the gray as he picked up one of the two buckets, trying with his Talent to convey the need to lap up every drop. The gray gelding had just finished drinking when Geran appeared out of the wash to the east. Geran immediately watered his mount. As he was finishing, Ilten rode over from the main body.

The senior squad leader looked at Geran. “What have you discovered?”

In turn, Geran looked at the four other scouts. No one spoke.

After a moment, Alucius cleared his throat. “There's a narrow trail, probably worn by nightsheep, that runs almost due west until you get to the wash here. There's one part where it runs north-south, but that's out of sight of the encampment.”

“How wide?” asked Geran.

Ilten frowned, but did not speak.

“Not much more than a yard and a half,” Alucius admitted. “Two yards in places.”

The older scout nodded. “We could run one squad there. The one that runs from the bend in the old wash is about twice as wide, and it comes in on the northwest corner of the stead. It doesn't wind much, either.”

Alucius silently admired Geran's ability to scout out that trail without being seen, since it had to have been the one he hadn't investigated.

Ilten looked to Henaar.

“Nothing that clear. There's a stock trail just south of the midroad, and it angles west-southwest, but it ends at the midroad, and it's exposed for the entire last three vingts.”

“Waltar?” asked Ilten.

“There's one almost due south. Same problem as the one Henaar found.”

Narlet shook his head. “Nothing next to the midroad. There's a road post about a vingt east of where the midroad crosses the wash. Two huts, and two mounted troopers, but they're messengers, I'd wager, to get help if they see any force coming.”

“Geran…Alucius, you two come with me,” Ilten ordered.

The two scouts repeated their information to the captain, pointed out the general locations of the trails on the rough map the captain had, and spent a quarter of a glass answering questions.

“Where is that…how long from there to the perimeter?”

“How many can ride abreast?”

“Where can we reform into a column or wheel into a firing line?”

When the questions finally stopped, the captain nodded, then looked at Geran. “You'll lead the main body on the northwest trail.” His eyes went to Alucius. “You'll lead second squad along the trail you scouted. Ilten will tell the squad leaders.”

After that, Alucius slipped back to second squad, where he munched a few of the tasteless travel biscuits and sipped from his water bottle. He could still feel the presence of sandwolves and sanders. Did they know there was a battle? Were the sandwolves hoping for carrion? Did the sanders feed on death of people the way they seemed to on the death of nightsheep?

“Are you all right?” asked Kypler. “You look worried.”

“Shouldn't we all worry?” countered Alucius.

“Form up!” Delar called.

Alucius remounted and rode forward.

“You ready, Alucius?” asked Delar.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then lead on.”

As Alucius rode down into the dry wash, north for a hundred or so yards, and up the worn cut that nightsheep had not used in years, and then along the old stock trail toward the Matrite encampment, with Delar almost directly behind him, he didn't see any other militia companies. Nor did he sense them. He did sense sandwolves moving in from the north, still more than a vingt away, and the sense of sanders was somewhat stronger.