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just another example of one of the reasons why Vaclyn was dead.
After the company reached the low rise and drew up in formation, Mykel eased
the roan to the higher side of the rise, from where he could get a better view
of the sur-rounding terrain. The captain followed his example.
Despite the high and hazy silver clouds, the morning was already hot, and
Mykel was sweating enough that his uniform was sticking to his shoulders and
upper back. He blotted his forehead and then took a swallow from one of his
two water bottles. Dramur had taught him that one wasn t enough.
Across the high road, to the west, were rolling hills, each line of hills
getting higher and drier until they merged witii the reddish rocks of the
foothills to the east side of the Coast Range. Behind him, to the east, the
hills were more like gentle rises, with slightly more grass than those to the
west. There were no huts or steads in sight anywhere to the north, suggesting
mat the regional alector had prohibited them and allowed only seasonal
grazing.
He looked back to the high road and the approaching wagon, drawn by four draft
horses. As it neared, Mykel noted that the entire high-sided and covered wagon
body was painted a rich brown. On the side panel, painted in yellow, were the
words Spyltyr & Sons, Spirits.
They can t have mat many buyers in Hyalt, can they? asked the captain.
Probably not, but they are moving quickly, and the
horses aren t lathered. The wagon s close to empty. They re probably returning
to Syan to buy brandy and wine there, and they re carrying just enough to sell
to the inns and taverns in Hyalt, I d guess. They ll travel the other side of
the square when they re full, from Syan to Vyan and then Krost, and then
either to Tempre or up north to the towns on the Vedra. They might be carrying
other goods south as well, maybe spices or shimmersilk, things that are light
but valuable.
Dreamdust?
Mykel laughed. Who could pay for that here? Or even in Syan?
Filthy stuff, but they must make thousands of golds on it.
Mykel had no idea what the profits on the drug might be, only that people
seemed to pay far more for spirits and drugs than for food and clothing. Some
people, anyway.
Before long, First Company was back on the road heading north.
They didn t reach the target road until late mid-morning. The narrow road,
unlike most farm roads, ran along the flat top of the gentle rise that angled
east-northeast. The slopes on each side were so gentle and gradual that it was
easy to overlook the fact that the rise was really a long ridge that separated
the grasslands south of it from the even more arid plains to the north. The
ir-regular surface was barely wide enough for two Cadmi-ans abreast, riding
slowly.
While there was one set of recent cart wheel ruts on the road, there were no
signs of riders or boots on the sandy soil. The road had been used, but where
did it lead? Mykel looked eastward, where, in the distance, there might be a
hamlet at the base of the ridge to the north, just west of what looked to be a
small forest.
Mykel wasn t certain, but, every so often, he thought he felt something, a
blackness of some kind, but it seemed to be beneath the road. Was he just
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imagining it? Ever since Dramur, he d been asking that question of himself
more and more, yet all too much of what he would have once called imagination
had turned out to be all too real if in ways he once never could have
predicted.
He blinked. Had the day gotten darker? He glanced toward the sun, not looking
at it directly, but trying to gauge if the clouds around it had thickened.
They had not.
Rifles ready, Mykel ordered, looking at Captain Cis-myr, then unsheathing
and checking his own rifle.
First Company! Rifles ready! The captain looked at Mykel, not quite
quizzically.
Mykel tried to sense from where the attack might come if it came at all.
Crack! Although the sound/feeling jarred Mykel, he could tell no one else
heard or felt a thing.
He glanced back over his shoulder. There, in the west-ern sky, less than a
hundred yards behind the last squad of First Company, were three flying
creatures. They were unlike anything he had ever seen even those around the
quarries or the miniature pteridons that had attacked Sev-enteenth Company
earlier. Each had the snout of a minia-ture sandox, except with a
silver-purple horn that gleamed in the sunlight, and a long and narrow body
like that of a snake, but a snake with two sets of wings similar to those of
the miniature pteridons.
Company! Halt! To the rear! Full turn! Fire at will! After the briefest
hesitation, Mykel added, In the sky above the road!
Company! Halt! echoed the captain.
The winged snake-oxen dived toward First Company.
Although he hated firing over the company, Mykel aimed at the lead creature,
concentrating on it, willing his shot home.
The creature exploded into a blue and purple fireball and tumbled from the sky
into one of the thicker patches of grass on the south side of the road. Blush
flames flared skyward, along with grayish smoke.
The rankers began to fire, if belatedly. Several shots struck the other
creatures, seemingly without effect.
Concentrating on the second creature, Mykel fired, and it, too, dropped from
the silver-green sky, striking the road within two or three yards of the
rearguard that had become the vanguard with the company s reversal of
direction.
Mykel s third shot was true enough, but the creature burst into bluish flame
and pinwheeled sideways before bursting into die same bluish flame and
slamming into Uie mount of a Cadmian ranker in fourth squad. Before either
Mykel or Cismyr could issue an order, his mate tried to help the ranker from
his doomed mount.
The two were far too slow, and both men and both mounts flared into intense
oily bluish flame.
Mykel stood in the stirrups. Keep clear of the blue flame! Keep clear of the
blue flame.
Frigging creatures! Cismyr swore under his breath.
Mykel rode back along die side of the narrow road, knowing mere was little he
could do, but also knowing that the men needed die gesture. As he rode, he
reloaded, aldiough his senses told him that mere were no more creatures
nearby.
The two officers reined up short of the burning pyre.
Mykel swallowed hard, trying to keep the bile from ris-ing in his mroat,
forcing himself to get past me reaction from the odor of burning flesh.
Several of the troopers had not been able to, and odiers looked yellowish
green.
As before, not even ashes remained when the fires burned out, just black
patches of ground where nothing grew and where nothing would for some time,
Mykel suspected.
Sir? asked Cismyr.
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There s noming we can do for them. Should he finish me patrol? He couldn t
break off every patrol whenever me strange creatures appeared. In some ways,
he regret-ted mat he had witii Seventeenth Company after the at-tack of
miniature pteridons. That had been a bad example. We have a patrol to
finish.
If
Yes, sir. The captain swallowed. First Company! To the rear, full turn!
Forward!
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