Legacies (53 page)

The sabre stopped…less than a span from the edge of the crystal, then rebounded. It took all of Alucius's strength to keep the weapon from slamming back against his body and then flying out of his hand.

Holding the sabre, Alucius extended the faintest touch of Talent to the crystal, trying to concentrate, even as he could sense both a concentration of Talent and guards moving toward the chamber—and him.

He concentrated…thinking about the way in which the wood-spirit had released the torque the first time…the way blackness had enfolded the pinkness of the torque thread. Slowly, deliberatively, he visualized a sphere of blackness around the purple crystal. As he extended that blackness, he could feel a pressure, a resistance, but he continued to press, to visualize, to extend a blackness suffused with green. Slowly, slowly, a thin and unseen layer of darkness slipped around the crystal, and the room dimmed, with the faintest of green overtones to the fading light.

Caught in the thinnest of coverings of darkness, the crystal pulsed, shuddering, and then contracted ever so slightly. Alucius concentrated yet harder—

The door to his left, the one that had remained visible, burst open, and four of the purple-clad guards burst into the circular chamber. They paused for an instant.

Alucius slipped to his left, putting the crystal between him and the guards, and forced his concentration back to thickening the darkness around the dimming crystal, and to suffusing that darkness with the sense of greenness that seemed to help.

“Shoot him!” commanded someone.

“Where is he?”

The crystal vibrated, shuddered, and gave a high whining sound that began to rise in pitch.

Alucius pressed more darkness around the crystal.

The four guards split into groups of two, one set moving to the right of the door through which they had entered, the other moving to the left.

“There he is!”

“Shoot him!”

With the command came a bolt of purplish black power that shook and pummeled Alucius like a ripe wheat stalk in a harvest hailstorm, but he continued to build the darkness around the crystal, hoping, somehow, that he could finish before it was too late.

A second vibration shook the entire chamber, so violent that Alucius went to his knees, as did three of the four Matrial's guards.

A dull splintering sound echoed through the space, and cracks appeared in the stone walls of the chamber, widening almost instantaneously from spidersilk thinness to rents in the solid stone wide enough for a trooper's arm to pass through.

On his knees, Alucius pressed more darkness around the crystal, darkness that seemed to flow from somewhere, almost effortlessly now. Then, he was thrown to the floor by another bolt of Talent-force.

For a moment, the dark cocoon wavered, but he shored it up, held it tight.

Abruptly, a brilliant greenish light poured through the now-huge cracks in the chamber wall, and the remaining faint purplish light swirled as if it were smoke, smoke pressed back by the greenness.

Alucius struggled to his knees, pouring more blackness around the shrinking purple crystal. The whining from the crystal rose in pitch into a piercing shriek, and then into a frequency so high that while Alucius could not hear it, he felt as though his very bones were being sawed apart from within, that his entire being was being sliced into slivers by invisible knives.

He forced more blackness, backed with green, looking up as a single point of fire brighter than the sun replaced the dark-enshrouded purpleness, throwing his darkness back at him.

At the same moment, in that moment of clarity, three guards fired.

One shot hammered the back of his shoulder, another his lower back, another the back of his thigh. He tried to turn, to throw himself flat on the stone splintering beneath him.

Silver-green surged across the chamber…a blinding wave of color and power…

…then darkness claimed him.

Someone was groaning.

After a moment, Alucius realized he was the one groaning. His head throbbed, and his eyesight was blurred. He was lying on something hard, very hard. Stone.

The chamber was dark. Black, with but a faint glow from a single dying light-torch, its crystal cracked and its energies dissipating.

The guards! He tried to move his head, and sharp pains jabbed through his skull. Gingerly, he turned his head, and looked across the chamber. There was no sign of the purple crystal. There was no flow of pink or purple thread power. There were figures on the stone floor. There were still large fissures in the walls of the chamber, but no light—sunlight or green light—came through those cracks.

Alucius slowly pulled himself into a sitting position. Outside of his head, which ached, his body did not feel as sore as it should have. He looked down at himself. There was a hole in his trousers on the side of his thigh, but his thigh was not sore. Carefully, he stood, looking around the chamber, and particularly at the floor around himself. There were stone shards around him, except they lay in a semicircle almost a yard from where he stood.

The feeling of silver-green? The only creature he knew that felt silver-green was a soarer. But what had a soarer been doing in the chamber? Or had he imagined it? And what would a soarer have been doing underground?

He frowned, then moved a step around to his left. Even though the space in the center of the chamber was empty, as if the crystal had never been, he had no intention of walking through where it had floated. Before him, there were five bodies, and all lay in pools of blood. He looked at the body of the nearest guard, and then looked away from the splinters of stone that had riddled her. He had to swallow to keep from retching.

He stepped carefully around the other four. The last one had been an officer of some sort, but Alucius did not recognize the insignia. Slightly behind the five figures was a line of clothing—a deep violet tunic, matching trousers, black boots, and an emerald necklace of some sort—all stretched out as if someone had been wearing it and then vanished. But there was not even dust within the clothing.

He reached for the necklace, then drew back his hand. There was something about it—very old and very evil, as if it had been imbued with the pinkness, even though the purple and pink had vanished from the chamber. He looked at the clothing once more, and then at the ancient emeralds. Although he could scarcely prove it, he knew who had worn those clothes. He swallowed and straightened, and then glanced around.

After a moment, he eased toward the open oak door and peered into the corridor beyond. It too was empty. He walked steadily to the end of the long corridor, and stopped at the silver door. There were no Talent energies playing around the door, and the crystal handle looked like dull glass. There was no one on the other side of the door either. The handle was cool to his touch as he pressed it down. He opened the door and stepped through. On the other side was a staircase wide enough for two that led straight upward to a landing.

He walked up the three flights of stairs, slowly, listening, but he could hear nothing. When he reached the top, he faced a blank wall—except for a small handle.

He cloaked himself in his screen, ignoring the headache that intensified, and then pulled the handle. The wall slid apart, and Alucius stepped out in one of the side corridors he had thought led nowhere when he had been looking earlier in the day. The corridor remained empty.

It took him several moments to figure out that the light-torch bracket served the same function it had in the Matrial's closet, but the wall closed, and Alucius moved back toward the center of the building, staying next to the shady side of the corridor. From the position of the sun, it was early afternoon.

He could not believe that no one had seen or heard what had happened. But then, it had all occurred three levels down, behind stone walls, and past three doors. Also, he suspected that no one had dared question the Matrial too closely about what she did behind such closed doors.

Alucius smiled.

Several of the women in purple and green moved along the corridor, radiating concern, but they were preoccupied and did not near Alucius.

Again…it took patience, but only about a quarter of a glass before one of the Matrial's aides appeared and opened the silver gate to allow someone in uniform to depart. Alucius followed. This time, even before Alucius could let the officer move away from him, the overcaptain looked over her shoulder—twice, frowning—then shook her head and continued. He swallowed, silently.

On the north side of the residence, it appeared as though nothing had happened, and Alucius made his way past the guards. Neither even looked in his direction.

Once outside the west portico, he made his way down to where Wildebeast remained tethered. There he mounted, and then expanded the cloak to cover the horse.

He couldn't quite believe that he was riding away, but no one stopped him.

Alucius decided to wait until well after dark before he returned to Eltema Post. He felt guilty for using his screen to cover the theft of a meat pie from a vendor on the fringes of the market, but that theft was minor compared to the problems he had already created in Hieron—or those to come that he had planned while he had waited. He found a sheltered and concealed spot below the river high road, where he tethered Wildebeast, and managed to doze in the shade, a fitful rest interrupted by nightmares, but a rest of sorts.

Once full darkness fell, he rode Wildebeast back though the gates of Senob Post, wearing the messenger sash and using his screen to blur his face. He left the horse saddled, and stalled the stallion in one of the stalls used for visiting officers, rather than his own. He also left the sash and empty dispatch case in the manger under the straw.

As he left the stall, in the dimness, he could sense someone—with Talent—walking toward him, an officer clearly not deceived by his screen and coming to investigate, and more. The gray-haired officer carried only a sabre, sheathed, and Alucius recognized her as the one who had initially interviewed him. He suspected that she was Overcaptain Haeragn, although he had never been introduced to her as such.

He stopped. “Sir?”

The Talent officer looked at Alucius. “Who are you, squad leader? What sort of mask is that? Remove it!”

Beneath the skull-mask Alucius smiled. “No.”

“I command you.” Her fingers touched one of the loops on her belt, and then he could sense a gathering of Talent, blackness gathering to smite him.

“It won't work.” Alucius was only mildly surprised that she had not noticed he was not wearing a torque. People tended to see what they thought they saw.

The puzzlement turned to alarm when Alucius touched her life thread, in the instant before she pitched forward. The Talent-force she had been about to cast at him dissipated. Alucius had intentionally severed her thread—with enough force that he had killed her. The fewer Talent-officers left in the Matrite forces, the less the Iron Valleys would have to worry, since it had become all too clear that there were far fewer officers with Talent than he or any of the troopers had been led to believe. He also wasn't surprised by her apparent slowness. It had been generations since a squad leader had not worn a torque and had not been able to be disarmed or killed instantly by a Talent-officer.

He dragged her body into an empty stall, under the manger, and covered it with loose straw before closing the stall door and heading to the stable doors.

Once out of the stable, he kept moving, crossing the courtyard briskly, as though he had every right to be there. He made his way into the barracks building, then walked toward the bays for the squad leaders.

Jesorak rated a bunk in an alcove in the bay, apart from the others. Alucius raised his screen as he neared the senior squad leader, who was sitting there alone, reading a stack of papers under the light of a single oil lamp.

Alucius tried to be quiet, but the older squad leader dropped the papers and looked around. “Who's there?”

Alucius dropped the screen.

Jesorak came with a belt knife from somewhere. “Hold it. That's you, Alucius, isn't it, behind that mask? What have you been doing?”

“You could say…I got into a fight,” Alucius said slowly. He didn't want to hurt Jesorak, who had been more than fair.

Jesorak looked at the hole in the thigh of Alucius's uniform trousers, barely visible on the forest green in the dim light. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.” Alucius straightened. “I'd like a favor. I'd prefer it as a favor.”

“You want me to turn the captives over to you, don't you?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“I can tell. There was trouble with the torques this afternoon with one of the new captives. They don't work. The Talent-officers are trying to keep it quiet.” Jesorak smiled, sadly. “The hair. I don't know how you got through, but only herders have that hair.”

“I had a severe head injury when I was screened.”

“And you were young and very good, and we were terribly short of troopers.”

“Well?” Alucius asked.

“Would you kill me if I said no?”

“I'd rather not.”

Jesorak moved…but not quickly enough.

Alucius reached out with his Talent, and touched, lightly, he hoped, the senior squad leader's amber-brown life thread.

Jesorak folded.

Muttering at himself for being a fool, Alucius took a moment to tie Jesorak's wrists behind his back. He dragged the limp figure under the bunk and out of sight before taking the keys from the senior squad leader's footchest.

Next he headed for the wing that held the captive trainees. He didn't know of a way to release all the captives who had been impressed and scattered throughout the Matrite forces, but he could do something about those in the training center.

He stunned the single guard outside the locked door to the captive barracks wing, and then propped him up in the chair, as if he were sleeping on duty. Then, he used Jesorak's keys to unlock the door. After a moment, he wiggled off the skull-mask and tucked it into his tunic. Then, he opened the door and stepped inside.

While some of the captive trainees were sleeping, a number looked up.

“Zerdial!” He made his voice hard.

“Yes, sir.” Zerdial scrambled forward.

“Who's the other Iron Valley trainee—the one you trust?” Alucius kept his voice hard.

Zerdial looked blank.

“I could question everyone.”

“Anslym, sir.”

“Anslym! You and Zerdial suit up. We have a chore for you two. It won't take long.”

“Yes, sir.”

Although both men looked puzzled, neither questioned, and in but a few moments, they reappeared. Alucius opened the door and motioned them out. Once outside, he relocked the door.

Then he smiled and asked in the speech of the Iron Valleys. “Do you two want to go home? Back to the Iron Valleys.”

“Who are you?”

“Squad Leader Alucius. I used to be a herder before they captured me. Now…do you want to go home?”

“Yes, sir. But how?”

“We're going to form a few squads, and ride out of here.”

“They'll kill us,” Zerdial protested.

“No, they won't. Close your eyes.” Alucius projected command.

Almost involuntarily, both men closed their eyes. Alucius reached forward and snapped the weld at the back of Zerdial's torque, then, as he opened his eyes, handed him both pieces.

Anslym's eyes widened, but he did not move as Alucius removed his collar as well.

“Sir…” Zerdial offered tentatively, “what about the others?”

“We won't leave them, but I need help getting rifles from the armory, and I don't want trainees running around making noise until we're armed and ready to move. That's what you two are going to help me with.”

“What?”

“We're going to raid the armory, and then we're going to gather the others and ride out of here. Once we're north of Hieron, we've got a fair chance that we won't see too much opposition.” Alucius turned.

After a moment, the two others followed.

They crossed the courtyard and reached the armory without incident. Alucius walked up to the trooper on guard, who looked both interested and confused as Alucius stepped forward.

“Special detail from Senior Squad Leader Jesorak.”

“No orders in the book.”

“Last moment,” Alucius said, stepping closer, using his body as a shield so that neither trainee could see what he did, before touching the man's life web. He lowered the figure to the courtyard stones, and took out the keys. The third one fit.

“What did you do?” asked Anslym.

“What was necessary.” Alucius had already decided to conceal his use of Talent. “Drag him inside here and tie his hands and feet with his belt or anything else.” Alucius opened the iron-banded oak door and stepped inside. He could tell there were no sentries within.

Anslym slowly dragged the sentry through the door

“Take the rifles from the second rack, Zerdial. Anslym, you load them. We'll take as many as we can, and, if we can on the way out, we'll bring a mount by and get more, and more ammunition.”

In less than a quarter glass they were headed back across the courtyard, with Alucius in the lead. They were five yards from the outer doorway to the barracks wing holding the trainees when a squad leader stepped out of the shadows and moved toward the three. “What are you three doing?”

Alucius again stepped forward and touched the trooper's life thread, swinging the rifles he carried toward the man. The blocky trooper collapsed. Alucius swayed on his feet for a moment. There was clearly a limit to how much of that he could do. He set down the rifles and dragged the man back into the shadows around the corner, then scrambled back and picked up the rifles he'd been lugging.

“What did you do?” whispered Zerdial.

“Hit him with a rifle,” Alucius lied. “He wasn't expecting it. Come on. We need to get these back to the trainees. You two will need to follow me in and stand ready with your rifles. I'm hoping they'll be reasonable, but…some might not.”

When Alucius walked back into the barracks section holding the trainee captives, Zerdial and Anslym followed with the loaded rifles. They set them on the stones, except their own weapons.

“Form up! Listen up!”

Alucius could hear the mutterings.

“…some sort of night drill?”

“…sounds like the new squad leader…tough…”

“Just form up!” Alucius snapped, knowing he was tired and losing patience. And he had a great deal more yet to do.

The trainees milled into formation. There was an aura of sullenness, not that Alucius had expected much else. He looked over the captive trainees—roughly forty. “No one's told you. The torque collars don't work anymore. I'm leading anyone who wants out of the Matrite forces and who wants to go to the Iron Valleys. I've got rifles here. The rules are simple. You obey me as senior squad leader until we're back in the Iron Valleys. There's no way you'll make it, unless we do it as if we were a horse company.”

For a long moment, there was silence.

“Why should we follow you?” came a voice.

Alucius smiled. He could tell it wasn't a friendly smile. “Because I'm not in the mood to let anyone out who doesn't. Because I'm tougher, and I know more than any of you, and because anyone with any brains would know this is your only chance. You want to go—you get suited up and line up one at a time. You come to the door, and you get your rifle. We form up without a word in the corridor, and march quietly to the stables. We saddle up, and we ride out.”

“What if someone tries to stop us?”

“In the corridor, I'll take care of it. Once we're mounted, we may have to fire. You only fire those rifles if and when I command. I'm going back to the Iron Valleys. Anyone who wants to come…suit up. We may have to fight our way out of Madrien, but we'll never have a better chance.”

“What about the collars?”

“Oh, those. I told you already. They don't work any longer. Alucius smiled beneath the skull-mask, then fished his own from his tunic and held up the broken sections. “Anyone else want theirs removed?”

Finally, a thin man stepped forward, from one the third rank back. “I'll see. Living death here anyway.”

Alucius snapped the heavy clasp and handed the torque back to the man. “Make sure you have your bedrolls and riding gear.”

Even before he finished speaking, men scrambled into their training uniforms and lined up to receive their weapons. And to have their torques removed. Not one chose to remain.

Less than a fifth of a glass later, Alucius looked over the ranks of trainees, hoping he could keep them under control. “Remember. No shooting unless I tell you.”

“…deserve it,” muttered someone.

“They may deserve it, but they're a lot less likely to send several companies after us if they wake up and find us gone, and no one's dead, than if we leave bodies all over the place. And we have a long way to ride.”

Even before he finished speaking, he could sense the general agreement. Now, all he had to do was get them out into the stables, saddled, and on their way.

“For now, Zerdial and Anslym are going to be acting squad leaders. The first half of the group—back to there”—Alucius pointed—“will answer to Zerdial, the last half to Anslym. The first half will set up a perimeter line on foot just inside the front of the stables, while the second half will saddle up. Then, you'll switch. Once everyone's saddled, we'll take some extra mounts, and load ammunition from the armory, and ration packs from stores. Then we'll leave. Let's go. Quietly.”

The column walked down the corridor.

No one approached until they had just entered the courtyard when a duty sentry walked around the corner of the barracks. His eyes widened, and then his mouth opened. Alucius struck with his Talent, moving like a streak toward the trooper, fast enough to catch him and lower him to the ground back against the wall and out of obvious sight.

“Keep moving to the stables,” he hissed.

“…no one moves that fast…”

“Quietly,” he whispered, taking the sentry's rifle, and hurrying back to the head of the column.

Alucius was only three steps into the stable when the duty stable boy scurried forward. “Sir?”

“Night maneuvers and training,” Alucius explained. “We'll also need four packhorses. What do you have?”

“There are six, but Captain Julyn—”

“We only need four, and I'm sure the captain can find others. We're needed down south immediately.” Alucius projected authority.

“Ah…yes, sir. I'll get them ready.”

Alucius took a quick look at the trainees inside the door of the stable, then walked to a point a third of the way down the line. He pointed to his right, at the larger group. “We don't need all of you. Those over here, go get your mounts saddled.”