Legacies (33 page)

Spring came far earlier in Hieron than in Iron Stem. That was obvious, because the grass began to turn green and the trees to bud little more than two weeks after Alucius had arrived at Eltema Post. Even without the bitter cold of Soulend, the Matrite training—or retraining—was exhausting. The day began with a two-vingt run north on the road leading north on river causeway, in loose exercise clothes issued to them. After the run came a glass of individual arms training and practice. Sometimes they used the wooden sabres, sometimes longer blades, sometimes wooden knives, and sometimes no weapons at all. When they worked with instructors and no weapons, Alucius did better than most, although there were moves and techniques he had never seen.

Only then did they eat. After eating came showers and cleaning up, and wearing uniforms to actual classroom instruction for two full glasses every morning. Then they ran through mounted maneuvers, before a midday dinner, and after the midday meal, a glass of instruction in the Madrien tongue, and then back to mounted practice in small group tactics. This was different, because a Matrite company was made of ten eight-trooper squads, each led by a junior squad leader. After group riding tactics came practice at the rifle range, under
very
close supervision. The smaller Matrite rifle took some work for Alucius to adjust to, but he could see the advantage of the magazine that carried ten cartridges.

Then came another glass or so of hard exercise before supper. After supper, there was time to wash up and take care of cleaning uniforms and stable maintenance. Sometimes, there was time to read—the Matrites had a small library, and there was little else to do, except talk or game, and neither appealed to Alucius. The only problem was that the books were printed in Madrien. Alucius forced himself to start with the easy ones, telling himself that the more he knew the better his chances for eventually escaping.

Of all the work, he liked the class sessions the most. Alucius had never been in a classroom and usually enjoyed the learning, if not the circumstances. The instructors varied. Some were officers, always women. Some were senior squad leaders, and some were men or women whose backgrounds the trainees were never told. At times, the lectures were more than informative. They were disturbing, particularly one of the early lectures, with an older gray-haired woman.

“Our world has one large continent—that is Corus—and four small continents, as well as a number of groups of islands. The history of Corus is long, and much of it has been lost. Most of that you don't need to know. What you do need to know is what was lost, and what the Matrial has undertaken to reclaim and why.”

Alucius had his doubts, but he had listened. He also noted the reference to “the” Matrial.

“There were four major cities of the Duarchy. Three of them lay in what are now the lands of Madrien. Those were Elcien, Ludar, and Faitel. Here, here, and here.” The woman used the thin wooden pointer to show where on the large wall map each city had been. “Most of you should know that Ludar and Faitel were totally destroyed, so much so that little more than swamp and scattered stones remain. The isle on which Elcien was built sank so deeply into the Bay of Ludel that just the tips of a few towers are visible. Only in recent years have the Talent-forces subsided enough that the ruins could be investigated without risking instant death. The other great city was Alustre, far to the east, in the land now known as Lustrea, and Alustre was hardly damaged at all.

“In the time of the Duarchy, both men and women had great powers, and even the lowliest lived free from want and fear…the Alectors of Justice knew who those were who injured others, and justice was swift and fair. This is no longer true in much of Corus. Talent-power, save for the Talent-officers of Madrien, is rare and far less powerful…

“In Lustrea, women are blamed for the Cataclysm and may not own property, hold coins, supervise men, or become artisans or traders. In Lanachrona, only those who are born into the Ezerhazy may own land. In the Iron Valleys, vast tracts of land are held by herder families who live on luxurious estates, and the more lucrative businesses are held by merchants in Dekhron, while the majority of people have barely enough to live on. Even in Madrien, the torques are necessary to ensure that the violent are restrained…” The instructor smiled coldly. “What does all this have to do with troopers? A great deal.”

She stepped sideways to the map. “You all can see the blue lines here. Those are the high roads of the Duarchy. Most of them still can be used. You can see how they create a web across all of Corus. In the ancient days, when there were the tireless sandoxes, food and goods and spices and people all traveled the roads swiftly. Grain grown in the fertile valleys that are now north Madrien was carried all across Corus. Fruits grown near Fola and Hafin traveled the world. The wines from the Vyanhills went everywhere. The golden rice and nuts of Lustrea came east. Great bison grazed the grasslands of Ongelya, and were transported everywhere for all to have fresh meat…” There was another pause. “Today, each land hoards what it produces. Madrien must either impoverish its people to buy goods—or have enough troopers to take the other lands for their goods because lands such as Southgate and now Lanachrona will not trade with Madrien.”

The instructor pointed to Sazium. “Have you ever had a good glass of Lanachronan wine?”

“No, honored one.”

“I'd imagine not. In Krost, you can get a glass of it for a copper. A small bottle, holding perhaps five glasses, costs two golds in Dekhron—two silvers for one small glass of wine. It certainly doesn't cost a silver and four coppers to cart that wine from Krost to Dekhron…”

Alucius understood the argument, but wondered what he was missing, although the woman felt she was conveying the truth.

“…and that is why Madrien has troopers. As you ride through Hieron, and through any town in Madrien, look at what you see. You do not see masses of poor people. You do not see hovels and huts, but comfortable dwellings for all. Yes, you and many others wear torques, but those torques also free you from hunger, from want, and they allow you to walk anywhere at any glass in Madrien without fear and without danger. That is the greatest boon of the Matrial…”

Alucius knew what he had already seen, but it troubled him that everyone in Madrien seemed to accept the idea that men had to wear torques so the land could be free from poverty and danger. How could they believe so readily that men were so evil?

On the fourth Quattri that they had been in Hieron, Jesorak—the senior squad leader who directed their training—summoned all eleven to the stables at the time of their first morning classroom instruction. They wore no weapons, since those remained under lock except during weapons instruction.

“This morning, you're going to learn something in a different way. We're going to ride over to the southeast market.” Jesorak gestured to a narrow tack table beside the stall door where he stood, on which were eleven forest green belt wallets. “Those are trooper wallets. Each has nine coppers in it, for each of you to spend as you wish—or not, as you choose. I'd suggest you not purchase more of the fruit than you can eat there. You have nowhere to keep it, and you're not used to too much fresh fruit at the moment. Also, I'd not buy anything terribly large, because you're troopers and all you possess has to fit in two saddlebags. Oh, and you get to keep the wallets, too, but you don't wear them except when you're traveling or going off post.” Jesorak paused. “One other thing. Troopers don't steal. From anyone, and not from other troopers. If something's missing, I bring in an officer with Talent. She discovers who did it. You steal, and you're a public laborer for life, probably in the stone quarries. Life isn't very long there.” He lifted one of the wallets and tossed it to Sazium, then the second to Murat. Alucius caught the fourth one and fastened it to his belt.

“Saddle up and meet in the courtyard.”

Wildebeast seemed almost puzzled, Alucius sensed, to be saddled so early. Was the horse so spirited because he was more intelligent and sensitive than most mounts? Alucius was careful to project calm, and the two were ready outside the stable before the others.

Jesorak was already mounted. He had a sabre at his belt, but the rifle case at his knee was empty. The squad leader eased his mount over to Alucius. “Know animals, don't you, trooper?”

“Some, sir.”

“Know weapons and fighting, too,” Jesorak said, adding conversationally, “Good trooper can make squad leader quickly, less than a year, if there's heavy fighting. You serve fifteen years, get a good stipend, live well here, or anywhere you want in Madrien. Happened to my brother.”

“Yes, sir.” Alucius paused. “Where are you from, if I might ask, sir?”

“Me? Born a Madrien boy, down in Hafin.” Jesorak laughed. “Don't you go thinking all the troopers are former captives. Less than a third. Most captives aren't good enough. Something like fifty of you came through that week. Three artisans, eleven of you, and the rest'll end up public laborers. Even a laborer in Madrien's better than being a scutter in the Iron Valleys or a field worker in Lanachrona, or seaman in Southgate—if you're not in the quarries.”

“I've seen that, sir,” Alucius replied politely.

“Just keep your eyes open, trooper,” Jesorak said with a nod. “You'll see.” He glanced toward Beral and Kymbes, who were mounting outside the stable. “Form up on Alucius here.”

The other eight appeared within moments, and the small column rode out of Eltema Post gates. As they headed southward, Alucius noticed a full company of horse troopers moving through some sort of parade.

Jesorak turned in his saddle. “That's the Twentieth Company. They busted up an attack by the Lanachronan Southern Guards—trying to test us on the high road from Tempre to Salcer. Wiped out the entire company. Matrial's going to honor them at her residence tomorrow. They're practicing the parade.” After a moment, the squad leader added. “Her residence is the big low dwelling on the hill park on the west side of Hieron.”

Alucius recalled wondering what that structure had been. Now he knew.

Even before midmorning, the day was warm, under high and hazy clouds, with barely a hint of a breeze. The air held a warm dampness that would have suggested rain to Alucius in Iron Stem, but in Hieron dampness without rain was all too usual.

On the south side of the post, across another stone side street from the redstone walls, were at least five or six small shops. Like those he had viewed from the prisoners' wagon in Harmony and Arwyn, they looked spotless from the outside. Alucius could see several troopers in their uniforms on the streets, and going in and out of the shops. From the smell, somewhere there was an eating place, perhaps a bakery or a cafe. He'd never seen a cafe, because there were none in Iron Stem, but he'd read about them in one of his grandsire's books.

While not in groups of eight, most troopers seemed to be in pairs or groups of three. Alucius could hear them talking, and while their voices were not raucous, some of the conversations were animated, punctuated with expressive gestures. The more he saw of Hieron and Madrien, the less he understood.

Beyond the shops were more of the neat dwellings, again with painted shutters, but these shutters were painted in forest green with crimson edging. Housing for senior squad leaders or officers? They rode past the houses with the green shutters that covered three blocks, before passing houses that looked much as had those in other Madrien towns, but Alucius was able to see more now. The rear of every house contained a walled garden, and he did not see any gates in those walls, although he did see the tops of trees and a grape arbor in one place.

After riding perhaps another two vingts, the column reached a wider street, and to the right was a large walled structure with a stone-framed entrance a good twenty yards wide, without a gate. Jesorak rode through the entrance, and the other eleven followed into what looked at first to be a large courtyard in the middle of a square building. The courtyard was paved entirely in redstone. In the center were lines of posts, for tethering mounts, or teams—although Alucius could see but one of the small carriages, attended by a trim white-haired man with a high-necked tunic that concealed whether he wore a torque. There were so many people in the marketplace, and so many who projected the grayness brought by the collars that Alucius doubted he could tell who was wearing one and who was not—except by being so close that his eyes would tell him as well as his still-feeble Talent-senses. But then, he had not seen a man who did not wear a torque, not that he knew.

Unlike the market square in Iron Stem, there were no carts for vendors. Instead, the building held stone carrels of sorts, some large, some small, open to the inner square. Each contained goods and a seller, and there had to be over a hundred sellers there, if not more.

“Column halt!” called Jesorak. “The posts with the green bands are for troopers. You tie your mounts there. They'll be safe. You've got a glass and a half. When you see me mount, head back here.” He grinned. “Enjoy yourself.”

Alucius could tell that the grin was forced, that the squad leader was nervous. He also could feel a stronger sense of the pinkish power behind them, at the corner, and he had no doubts that one of the officers with the Talent had followed them—or had been waiting for them. In a way, that almost reassured him that there were some limits to the power of the torques. He just had to find out what they were. He was also feeling reassured by the fact that with each day, he could sense a bit more with his Talent. He just hoped that his abilities continued to improve.

Alucius dismounted and tied Wildebeast, spending a little extra time, soothing the stallion and projecting reassurance before he walked away from his mount, heading almost at random toward the north side of the marketplace.

His first stop was at the carrel of a silversmith, where he just looked, taking in the sleek lines of the work, mainly items such as ornate boxes lined with colored velvet, candelabra, and silver serving platters. The silversmith was a woman, without a torque, who studied him but for a moment before returning to discuss a silver platter with an older gray-haired woman and a younger woman in pale yellow.

Beside the silversmith's was a carpet seller. Alucius stopped and stared, not at the carpet displayed on the wooden rack, but at a smaller one, a yard and a half by two, which had a deep green midground with an eight-pointed pale blue star in the center. The border, a hand in width, was woven so intricately that the silver and crimson filigree pattern looked as though it were indeed enamel and metal. With a rueful smile, and a hidden laugh, he turned. Even as a herder, he doubted he could have afforded the carpets, not the ones he liked, and he certainly couldn't have justified spending the golds they must have cost, even if he had such.

Beyond the carpet seller's was a cabinet-maker's space. Alucius only gave the chests and cabinets a cursory glance. They were dark and heavy, cumbersome in appearance, if well made. He passed by a small space filled with bright scarves, scarves made of shimmersilk, not nightsilk. While he looked over the scarves for a moment, he knew they were far more expensive than his nine coppers, and, besides, how would he ever get one back to Wendra?

The western side of the marketplace held sellers of produce and foods. Alucius did buy a sticky honey roll, eating it carefully before moving on to the adjoining stone stall.

The fruit-seller was a woman with black hair shot with white. Unlike most of the women, she also wore a torque, with somewhat more filigree than a trooper's collar, but Alucius could sense that slight touch of the chill and evil-feeling pink. He studied the fruits—recognizing some, such as the lemons and the small bitter oranges, and the apples, although he wondered how they might taste, since they had to have been kept in a winter cellar somewhere. Others, such as the greenish oval that he thought might be a melon of sorts, were unfamiliar.

“What is best?” he asked in his still limited Madrien.

“The alewine.” She pointed to the green melon, smiling faintly. “But it is a silver.”

Alucius nodded. “Do you grow them…in…” He groped for a word.

“I have a glassed indoor garden. It isn't large, but I can sell melons a season before the ones in the fields come in. So I do.”

Alucius was intrigued. “What else do you grow there?”

“The oranges, and the lemons. Some spices for cooking, but you would not need those now.” The hint of a smile filled her voice. “You are young for a trooper.”

“One of the younger ones,” Alucius admitted.

She handed him an apple. “You may have this.”

Alucius returned a copper.

“It was a gift.” She smiled.

“Then the copper is also a gift.” Alucius wasn't certain why he said that, but it felt right.

The fruit-seller laughed. “Then you must take two. They are two for a copper.”

That felt right, and he accepted the second apple with a smile, and a slight bow.

“The best of fortune, young trooper,” she murmured as he straightened.

“Thank you.” He slipped the apples inside his tunic for later.

On the southern side were those who sold more practical goods. There, Alucius stopped by the cooper's stall, where there was an array of barrels, mainly finely finished half and fifth barrels, but no sign of tools. That indicated that the working shop was elsewhere. A young woman—a girl younger than Wendra, he decided—looked at him dubiously.

“I can't buy your barrels, but I know a cooper where I come from, and I just wanted to see yours and compare.” He smiled gently as he bent to inspect a polished lorken fifth-barrel, bound not in iron, but bronze. The workmanship was good, but not any better than Kyrial's.

“How do you find them?” the black-haired girl finally asked.

“The workmanship is good, especially the bronzework.”

“You speak Madrien almost without an accent,” she observed. “Have you lived here long?”

Alucius smiled. The girl believed what she said. Perhaps his Talent had helped him in learning Madrien. Then, the language was not that different, and many words were almost the same. “I know less than you think. I've been here less than a year.” That was true, but he decided against a more precise time.

“You must have a gift for tongues.”

“Good teachers,” replied Alucius with a slight laugh. “Thank you.” He bowed and slipped away.

Long before the glass and a half was over, Alucius left the carrels and shops and walked back into the hazy warm sunlight, crossing the redstone pavement and carefully avoiding the other shoppers—again mostly women or older men wearing torques.

Once he was standing beside Wildebeast, he pulled out one of the two apples. Since he had no knife, he used a trick he had learned as a boy. Using his fingernail, he cut the skin of the apple all the way around, then put a hand on each half, twisting abruptly and hard. The apple split into two halves. Alucius offered a half to Wildebeast, then waited and offered the second.

Only then did be begin to eat the second apple.

“A trooper at heart!” Jesorak laughed from behind Alucius. “The man gets two apples, and one is for his horse, and the horse eats first. Your mount must have sensed that. Sywiki said he was smart.” The squad leader shook his head.

Alucius couldn't help but like and respect Jesorak, enemy though he might be.