(eng) L. E. Modesitt - Corean Chronicles 04 by Alector's Choice

Author:Alector's Choice [Choice, Alector's]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

60

Dainyl looked out the window of the commander’s study, taking in the shadows of a late-winter afternoon in Dramuria as they stretched across the Cadmian compound. Londi had come and gone, and Duadi had almost done the same. Quelyt had not yet flown back from Elcien, and his delayed return suggested that all was not well in Elcien. Overcaptain Dohark had reported by messenger that most of the patrols undertaken by the companies of Third Battalion had been uneventful, except that Seventeenth Company had been attacked by several squads of horsemen with longbows and arrows and was pursuing them to the north of the western road.

Dainyl had immediately sent a messenger back to Dohark, suggesting that pursuit to the west was unwise, except in cases where the horsemen could be clearly cut off. He hoped that would be sufficient, since so far there had been no sign of any of the western seltyrs’ horse troopers moving east. Dainyl thought it would likely be only days, weeks at the most, before that happened. For that reason, he had also alerted Dohark that the western seltyrs had armed horse troopers who could be used against the Cadmians.

He still fretted somewhat about the troopers he and Fa-lyna had overflown. Marshal Shastylt would have destroyed them. Yet Dainyl didn’t see what good that would have done. It would only destroy higher-level lifeforce mass, and lead to greater destruction, while not getting at the basic problem. He laughed softly. If… if he could ever discover the basic problem.

Then, there was the problem of the ancients. Much as he had tried, with his own Talent, he had been unable to recreate—or find, see, or sense—the vision of the world life-mass web that the soarer had shown him, for that was all that it could have been. The best he could do was sense, if he concentrated, the purple-pinkness of his own lifethread for less than a yard from him. Still, that was an improvement. The prediction that he would perish unless he changed still lurked in the back of his mind as well Change? How? And why?

“Sir?”

Dainyl looked up to see Quelyt standing in the open doorway to the study. He stood. “I’m glad to see you. I worried that they might have pressed you into courier duty somewhere.”

The Myrmidon laughed as he stepped into the study. “We did do a message run or two to Ludar, more as a favor, while we waited.” He extended an envelope. “From the marshal.”

“Any other dispatches?”

“No, sir.” Then the ranker grinned. “There is a letter.”

Dainyl shook his head. “Sometimes, you’re a brigand, Quelyt.”

“Only sometimes, sir.”

“What’s happening in Elcien?”

“It’s hard to say, sir. The other fliers think that the mess in Iron Stem is finally settled, but there are rumors that someone killed five alectors on the regional staff in Dereka. They’re missing, anyway, and that’s not good.”

“What else?”

“It was a frigging cold winter in Elcien, and it’s still cold. Good to get down here.”

“For winter, it’s been pleasant here.”

“Oh… one other thing, I almost forgot.

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