These numbers... there's no record of anything like this."

The mess steward arrived with a mug of ale. "There is only flatfish tonight, sir."

"Whatever there is, thank you."

The steward bowed and hurried away.

Mykel took a swallow of the ale. His throat was dry, and while fish was better than bread and cheese and dried meat, it wasn't that much better.

"Do you have any idea why or how?"

Meryst shook his head.

Mykel could tell that the other man had an idea, but wasn't about to share it. He'd either been ordered not to say, or didn't feel comfortable saying what he felt. Mykel would have wagered on the second. "Have you been taking fire from rebels in the hills around the mines?"

"Once in a while, but no one's been hit. Not yet."

"You think that they're shooting more than they used to?"

"Until a season ago, or less, no one ever shot at us," Meryst replied.

"What's going on, do you think?"

"I wish I knew. The first thing was the prisoners disappearing. That started at the end of summer. Maybe sooner. I was on furlough for two weeks. Then some of the prisoners wouldn't go into the mines. They said it wasn't safe, but no one had been hurt. We had to flog a bunch." Meryst's face tightened as he spoke. "Then more of them started trying to escape."

"Why would the seltyrs get involved?"

"The seltyrs? What do they have to do with the mines?"

"Seltyr Ubarjyr was outfitting an entire company of mounted rifles..."

Mykel went on to explain what had happened in Enstyla. He was surprised that Meryst didn't know."I'd heard that you'd had trouble up in Enstyla," replied Meryst. "When I asked Majer Herryf, he just said that you'd taken care of the problem. He didn't want to talk about it."

Mykel paused. Since Enstyla, Fifteenth Company had spent almost no time in Dramuria. It was possible word hadn't gotten out. "Why would the seltyrs care about escaped prisoners?"

Meryst laughed. "How many do you think they put there? Ubarjyr was the worst."

"What do you mean?"

"Not all the bat shit goes to Southgate and the Vedra river ports. The bigger growers get some of it. The soil isn't great here, you know. There's an unspoken agreement. It's not written anywhere. The more miners that come from a sel-tyr's holdings and retainers, the more they get. It's a good way to get rid of anyone who complains and to get more of the bat shit for worked-out lands. The council director and the director of the mine just look the other way. They always need more miners. They've found another one of the caves, but they don't have enough miners or golds to open it yet.

That's what the word around Dramuria is, anyway."

"Doesn't the justicer have to find them guilty of something?"

"The justicer belongs to the growers. Always has."

"You think Ubarjyr was building a private force to protect himself?"

Meryst shrugged. "I don't know. It's possible."

The longer Mykel was in Dramur, the less he liked what he was discovering. But it had often been that way on deployments. That was why Cadmians were deployed. Still...

"There's not much I can tell you about the seltyrs. They keep things to themselves," added Meryst.

"Is Rachyla-the seltyr's daughter-still in confinement?"

"You interested in her?" Meryst grinned.

"She's good-looking," Mykel admitted, "but I think she knows morethan she's saying. I'd like to talk to her, but... if I go through Majer Vaclyn..." He shrugged.

Meryst nodded. "I can see that. How about the first glass after muster tomorrow? We take over the guard then."

"I wouldn't want to cause you trouble." Much as he wanted to see Rachyla, he did not want to put Meryst on his majer's bad side.

"There won't be. Your majer will be talking to Herryf that early. I'll let the guards know you're trying to find out something to help us all from getting shot. That's true, isn't it?"

"I hope so. I think she knows where the rifles came from. If we could find that out..."

Meryst smiled. "It would help."

"It would. Thank you." Mykel decided to change the subject. "If I could ask one other thing. How have you been handling road patrols on the mine road?"

"We send a patrol up front, first, or we did. Thirteenth Company has been doing that lately, gives us more men to watch the prisoners..."

As Meryst talked, Mykel listened.

39.

Septi morning dawned chill, cloudy, and windy, and the air was raw and damp. As he crossed the compound courtyard, Mykel decided that it was the coldest day he'd experienced so far in Dramur, and the damp chill made it feel colder than it was. Almost to the moment, at one glass past the morning muster, he approached the officer's cell. To his relief, he found Meryst standing by the locked door, talking to the guards.

"Good morning, Captain," offered Meryst, turning to face Mykel.

"Good morning."

"We wish you the best of luck in finding out something." Meryst laughed. "Neither the Myrmidon colonel nor either majer has had much success.""Then I can't do any worse," replied Mykel.

Both the sentries and Meryst smiled broadly. One of the two Cadmian rankers produced the heavy brass key, unlocked the lock, slid back the pair of iron bolts.

"You won't need more than a glass, will you?" asked Meryst.

Mykel understood perfectly. Vaclyn and Herryf always spent a glass discussing things in the morning. "That's if I can persuade her to talk.

Much less if I can't."

"Let's hope you can."

Mykel hoped so as well, but he wasn't counting on it.

The sentries held their weapons ready as Mykel opened and door and stepped inside.

"You could announce yourself." Rachyla sat on the side of the bed. She wore gray trousers and a heavy green shirt, with slippers, rather than boots. Mykel noted the dark circles under her eyes, but those piercing green eyes looked anything but defeated or beaten.

"I'm sorry. I thought you'd be up."

"I am up. It's just a matter of manners, Captain. What do you want?"

"To talk to you."

"So that you can get more information from me?"

"I've gotten very little." Mykel laughed easily. He remained standing, a good two yards back from the narrow bed. "You might consider what you could tell me without betraying anyone. That way, I might understand what is happening."

"I'm not aware that Cadmians considered understanding af great import."

"Some don't. Some do."

"Don't pretend. I don't like it.""How about this, then? Forty men died earlier this week, because they attacked my company. They'd been driven off their lands, not by Cadmians, but by growers, because they couldn't pay their debts. It doesn't make sense, and I really would like it to make sense."

"So that you could find a better way to kill more people?"

"Rachyla... for what it's worth, I'd like to remind you that I didn't take you into confinement when I found that first rifle. My men didn't start shooting at your father's men until they fired at us first. Hard as it may be for you to understand, I would rather not kill people."

"For that, to make you feel better, I'm supposed to betray people?" Her eyes never left his face.

Mykel snorted. "I asked you to explain what you could without betraying anyone."

"Anything I say will betray someone."

"Why did your father need rifles? I don't see how explaining that would betray anyone."

"An unarmed seltyr is without honor. A seltyr who has no rifles when others do is unarmed."

That didn't make sense, unless... "Who else has rifles?"

"Did I say that others have rifles, Captain?"

Mykel waited. Sometimes, saying nothing worked better than saying anything. He just looked at Rachyla, taking in the black hair swept up onto the back of her head, the clear skin, and the deep green eyes. She had a nose that was strong, but not overlarge, and long fingers. Her cheekbones were high.

A good quarter glass passed.

"You're more patient than the majers," she finally said. "Or the Myrmidon."

"I have more at stake. So do you."f More time passed.

"You know that there are two types of growers, the larger ones, like my father, who are called seltyrs, and those who are just growers..."

Mykel nodded, waiting.

"There are also the growers of the east, and those to the west. Those in the west are more prosperous. They do not need the guano. They do not need irrigation ditches. They have always believed that the growers of the east have hidden their coins. We grow casaran nuts, but they grow apple bananas and use their spiders to create shimmersilk. Those bring far more in golds. With enough golds, one can buy anything, even Cadmian rifles.

What else could my father do?"

"The western growers are planning to take over the east of the isle?"

Rachyla shrugged. "Now... with your Cadmians here, who can tell?"

Mykel considered. She could well be lying, but... it didn't feel that way, and he usually had a good sense about that. Then, did he want to believe what she said? "Do you have any idea why they would risk it?"

"No. I would judge that they felt that the Duarch would not care so long as the guano and dyes and shimmersilk kept coming. Would you say I was wrong?" The corners of her mouth lifted into a sardonic smile.

"No," Mykel admitted. "Did your father ever speak to MajerHerryf?"

"How could he, without revealing what he knew and becoming a target?" Her face hardened again. "You and your men did a great favor for the western growers."

"It wasn't meant as such," Mykel pointed out.

"No. I can see that you did not mean it that way. Does it matter what you meant? My father is dead, and I am here, and one day, I will be found dead-or put before a justicer and quickly found guilty of something I did not do and exe-cuted. Or I will just vanish, and no one will be able to explain how it happened."

Mykel could see how she could believe that. She was probably right, too,and that bothered him.

"No one talks to me, except you and the majers. Even the evil one only came once."

"The evil one?"

"The Myrmidon colonel. All of them are evil, deep inside. They do not belong here."

"Where? Here on Dramuria?"

"They do not belong on our world. They are different. They even smell different. We will be here when they are long gone." Abruptly, she closed her mouth.

Smell different? Mykel frowned. "How could they smell different?"

"They do."

"Just how will they depart when they have the Myrmidons and the flame lances?"

"I have said all that I will say."

"And more than you would have," Mykel said gently.

"You are not so evil as the others, Captain. For that, you will pay dearly."