Treachery's Tools (51 page)

“And if I don't.” Murranyt wasn't quite sneering.

“One way or another, the Factors' Council will be most interested in hearing how Chief Factor Hulet could possibly have forced his way through either of the gates at Laevoryn's estate, considering he was unarmed, and there were not only estate guards there, but that those same gates are also guarded by the brown-shirts that the Civic Patrol seems totally unable to find, when a mere imager with no experience in patrolling could locate them in less than a glass.”

“Threats don't move me, Alastar.”

“I wouldn't think of
threatening
you, Murranyt. I've never made a threat in my life, and I'm not about to now.” Alastar stood. “I would suggest that you review my words very carefully.”

“You don't want to deal with anything directly. I know your kind.”

Alastar laughed. “You flatter me.”

Cyran stood, shaking his head.

“You, great senior imager,” said Murranyt, “just how did I
flatter
the honorable maitre?”

“You suggested that … that he was skilled in scheming. Perhaps he has that ability, but from what I've seen, he's never asked anyone to do what he hasn't already done.”

“I'll give you one additional thought, Murranyt,” added Alastar. “I could care less about you, after what it's clear you've done. I just would prefer that the Civic Patrol only have a shadow over its past after you leave than outright proof of treachery and betrayal.”

“I'll leave when I decide.”

“One way or another,” replied Alastar with a pleasant smile, “you are absolutely correct.” He looked to Cyran. “It's time to leave.” He turned and walked from the small chamber.

Cyran stood there for a moment, gave the faintest headshake to the commander, and then followed Alastar. Just outside the building, he said, “I don't think Murranyt understood what you meant.”

“That's because he didn't want to.” Alastar didn't say another word until he was mounted and the three imagers were riding toward the East River Road. “We'll ride out to see Marshal Wilkorn.”

“We could deal with Laevoryn ourselves.”

“We could, but that would cause other problems. What I have in mind, if Wilkorn agrees, will make Laevoryn the traitor instead of an imager victim.”

“That would be better.”

Slightly more than two quints later, the three imagers reined up outside the main army headquarters building more than two milles north of the Chateau D'Rex. Again, Beltran remained with the horses when Alastar and Cyran dismounted and made their way inside past a trooper, who stiffened as they passed.

“They don't question you,” murmured Cyran.

“Unlike Murranyt,” replied Alastar in a low voice as he turned to the left after leaving the entry foyer.

“Is the marshal expecting you, Maitre?” asked the ranker, who immediately stood from behind the table set in the hallway outside the small study in which Wilkorn had most recently seen Alastar.

“No, but the matter is urgent.”

“Yes, sir.” The ranker turned and rapped on the door. “Maitre Alastar, sir.”

While Alastar couldn't hear the response, the ranker opened the door and stepped back. “He'll see you, Maitres.”

Alastar let Cyran enter first, then closed the door.

Wilkorn remained seated, but gestured toward the chairs in front of the desk with his unsplinted hand and arm. “What new problems or information are you delivering? With the two top imagers, it must be serious.” His words were delivered in a half-humorous tone.

“I'd like to borrow two squads of troopers and their captain or undercaptain.”

A twisted smile crossed the marshal's face. “I can't imagine you'd need their protection.”

“Not their physical protection, but their authority to deal with rebel forces.”

“Oh?”

“There's a High Holder named Laevoryn who has a number of armed brown-shirts quartered on his estate grounds. Since the brown-shirts attacked the rex…”

“… and since you don't have the legal authority to invade a High Holder's lands, but the army can pursue traitors and rebels … I take it that's what you have in mind.”

“Something along those lines. Also, there's an interesting link to Commander Murranyt, the head of the Civic Patrol.…” Alastar explained what had happened involving Laevoryn and Murranyt's response.

“I've seen enough not to be surprised at anything, but…” Wilkorn shook his head. “You could remove him, and no one would be able to do anything.”

“Which means that Laevoryn has the same ability … or an even greater hold over Murranyt,” suggested Alastar.

“When do you want those squads?”

“How about in a glass?”

Wilkorn laughed. “We can do that. It will be a good exercise for them.”

“I'll accompany them. Cyran will go back to the Collegium and gather some maitres to meet us.”

“Maitres? You need more than you two?”

“We're going to try to shield your troopers. I'd rather not have any casualties among your men, or as few as possible. We may need every man later.” Alastar quickly added, “We can't do that in a large pitched battle with hundreds of men and cannon. Only a few imagers have that ability, and how many men they can protect is very limited.”

“I've wondered about that for a long time … ever since I heard that you'd managed to survive the Antiagon fire that killed Petayne and all the others.”

“We think that's why the brown-shirts were targeting students and younger imagers.”

“From their point of view that makes sense. Kill the young ones before they get strong enough.”

“That's why Quaeryt set up the first Collegium.”

“Quaeryt? That was his name?”

“It was. He was actually married to the sister of the first rex regis.”

“That explains a few things.”

It really didn't, but Alastar wasn't about to offer the detailed explanation, especially since he really didn't know it, and doubted that anyone in centuries had. Instead, he turned to Cyran. “You need to ride back with Beltran and assemble our force. Two senior maitres besides you, but not Alyna, and two or three strong junior maitres. “We'll meet where the lane to the rear gate and the East River Road diverge.”

Cyran nodded. “We'll be there.”

Once Cyran had left the study, Alastar turned back to Wilkorn. “Is there any recent news about the rebels?”

“I'm waiting for a report from the scouts. I'll let you know.”

“I do need one other favor.”

“Oh.”

“A water bottle filled with dark lager.”

The marshal chuckled.

 

31

Wilkorn was better than his word. At two quints after third glass, Alastar and two squads of mounted troopers rode out through the main gates of the High Command. Beside Alastar rode Weidyn, whose graying hair proclaimed that he'd worked his way up from a ranker to captain. At the head of the second squad, halfway back in the column, was squad leader Remaylt, a more grizzled trooper even than Weidyn.

When Alastar had described the mission and what he expected, Weidyn had merely nodded, then asked, “Are we to act as patrollers or troopers?”

Alastar's response had been blunt. “Troopers as far as the brown-shirts are concerned. Shoot any brown-shirt who doesn't surrender. That includes those who try to flee. We've fought them twice. Three times would be too many. Anyone else … don't shoot unless they have a weapon and threaten.”

“Any other orders, Maitre?”

“No one on the grounds, buildings, or dwelling is to leave except by my command. Use whatever force is necessary.”

“Whatever force?”

“No more than necessary, but if they get shot, they get shot.”

After the short briefing, Alastar had no doubts about why Wilkorn had selected Weidyn's company and ordered the captain to command the two squads.

Once Alastar's force was riding eastward toward the Nord Bridge, he asked the captain, “How did you come to be an army officer, Weidyn?”

“My grandsire was a stone mason, and my da named me after him, thinking I'd follow that path.” The captain laughed. “I was good at breaking stones, but not shaping them. My da said that the only place a fellow got paid for destroying things was the army. He was half right, but my being a stone mason would have been all wrong.”

“You've been in … what? Fifteen years?”

“Eighteen. I made squad leader just before you destroyed fourth regiment. I was transferred to twelfth company, third regiment. Never did care much for Commander Chesyrk, even when he was a major. I was glad more for the transfer than the promotion. Learned a lot chasing pirates through the Sud Swamp, but didn't care for the hot and damp. Got breveted to undercaptain there, though.”

“And you were good enough to keep the rank, clearly.”

“Marshal Wilkorn was looking for company officers with field experience to head up training. That's how I made captain five years back.”

“I thought it might be something like that.” Alastar took out his water bottle and drank. He didn't want to have to image while not feeling his best.

“I've heard that you train imagers like troopers. That so?”

“In a similar fashion, but it takes longer because they start usually between age eight and thirteen, although some come to the Collegium younger, and some very few later. We run them, exercise them, and make them learn how imaging works, then start them on improving their imaging slowly. It takes about six to ten years for a student to develop solid basic abilities. Those who can do more become maitres, usually in their twenties, although a few manage that earlier. Too much imaging can kill an imager. We still lose a few who think they know better.”

“Lose? Like dying?”

“Three things happen to young imagers. They do what they're supposed to and succeed. They die. Or they're blinded because they become a danger to others.”

Weidyn stiffened just slightly, then laughed softly. “You mind if I pass that on to our recruits? Some of them might find it … useful to know that there's an outfit where those who fail die or go blind.”

“And it's headed by another gray-hair.”

Weidyn didn't reply, but his smile was wry.

Slightly after fourth glass, Alastar and Weidyn led the two squads across the Nord Bridge and then north on the East River Road. As they neared the meeting point where the lane branched off from the main road, abruptly a group of six mounted imagers appeared, the result of their dropping their concealments.

“That's a handy trick,” observed Weidyn.

“It's useful for small groups, but like all imaging, the larger the area involved, the more difficult it is.” Alastar quickly made out Cyran, Tiranya, and Khaelis, then Belsior, Dylert, and Taurek.

“One of your maitres is a woman?”

“They fight as well as the men, and some are better than the men of equivalent position. Tiranya's very good. For those who are married, we try not to have husband and wife in the same battle at the same time.” Alastar smiled wryly. “Sometimes it doesn't work out that way, but so far we haven't lost both.”

“You're married?”

“My wife is the third-ranking imager. She's quite able. She's in charge of defending Imagisle. Have the squads halt. You and I and Remaylt will meet with Senior Imager Cyran. That should only take a few moments.” Alastar reined up at Weidyn's commands, then rode forward several yards and stopped again, motioning for Cyran to join him.

In turn, Weidyn gestured, and Remaylt rode forward to join the captain and the two imagers.

“The plan here is simple,” Alastar began once the four were gathered in a rough circle. “There aren't any gates except at the front and rear of the estate, and the walls run all the way around it. The group headed by Maitre Cyran and Captain Weidyn will attack through the front gate. The group headed by squad leader Remaylt and me will take the rear gate. Cyran, you, Khaelis, Belsior, and Dylert will accompany and shield Captain Weidyn and his squad. You're to remove the front gates and enough of the walls on each side so that you can lead the squad in quickly, but don't make the gap more than ten yards wide. Otherwise, you may have trouble holding shields across the front. I'll take Tiranya and Taurek, and we'll break through the rear gate. Image a fireball above the main house when you're in position. When I image one in return, we'll both attack. Oh … use blurring shields getting into position, but not concealments.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If High Holder Laevoryn gets into this, try not to kill him, because it would help to get answers from him, but don't take chances. He's already killed the chief factor in cold blood. As I've said before, anyone in a brown uniform or with a weapon is fair game unless they surrender and throw down their weapon. Any last questions?”

The other three all offered headshakes.

“Then let's head out. Cyran, send Tiranya and Taurek over.”

“Yes, sir.”

Weidyn nodded to Alastar, then turned and signaled for his first squad to join up on him. Alastar eased the gelding to the side and then rode toward second squad, turning his head and calling, “Tiranya, you and Taurek ride directly behind the squad leader and me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Several yards before second squad, Alastar reined up, and in moments, the two other imagers took position behind him. Then Remaylt drew his mount alongside Alastar.

Alastar nodded to Remaylt, then eased the gelding forward, raising a screen concealment in front of the small force.

After they had ridden a few yards and turned onto the lane, Remaylt asked quietly, “Begging your pardon, Maitre, but how much fighting experience do your imagers have? I notice they carry sabers.”