"Maybe they didn't know they couldn't fight," Dohark said quietly.

Mykel sat there for a moment. He'd never considered that possibility.

"They can get reinforcements. We can't," Dohark pointed out. "Not for a long while, anyway. We'll have to scout the western road and protect Dramuria. I've called . Sixteenth Company in from the north. They should be here tomorrow. I'll also be suggesting to Majer Herryf that he either station both Cadmian companies at the mine or pull everyone out."

Dohark laughed harshly. "He won't. He might get by with it because the walls there are high and thick."

Mykel nodded.

"As for you, Mykel. You look like shit. I'll bet your men do, too, or you wouldn't have brought them back. We can't afford exhausted troopers, or captains. Get some sleep, and check in with me in the morning."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"The same goes for exhausted overcaptains, sir."

Dohark laughed, briefly. "You get some sleep, and I'll get some. Now...

get out of here, so I can finish figuring out something, and we'll both get to sleep sooner."

"Yes, sir."Mykel eased out of the study, realizing that Dohark was using it because the Myrmidon colonel was gone-and because Dohark didn't expect him back soon. He shook his head, then slipped out of the building and into the cool night air. He did not head for quarters, but to the officer's cell that he hoped still held Rachyla.

The guards looked at him. One opened his mouth.

Mykel looked back, hard. "I won't be long."

"Ah... yes, sir."

As always, they held their rifles ready as they unlocked the cell and let him enter.

Rachyla turned from the desk where she had been writing in the dim light of the lamp hung on the wall. She did not rise from the stool. "It's rather presumptuous of you to come so late. What if I were asleep?"

"I would have left."

She studied him before speaking. "You have blood all over your neck."

"You were right."

"What does that have to do with the blood. Have you been out slaughtering more helpless and untrained men?"

"Yes. We ambushed two companies of bluecoats after they had burned out cots and dwellings north of Dramuria."

"After? How brave of you."

"We'd fought our way out of one ambush the night before. That was where your equally noble bluecoats tried to massacre the mine prisoners."

Mykel managed, somehow, to keep a dry tone to his words, rather than the anger he felt. "We'd already fought another skirmish earlier in the day. In the last fight, since we were outnumbered more than two to one, we were the ones to spring the ambush. And no, I don't feel good about it. But...

you were right. They were all from the west."

"And they wounded you."Mykel laughed, ironically. "No. They didn't. Someone hit a tree beside me, I was hit by a big splinter. I pulled it out. I didn't even know I was bleeding."

For a moment, she was silent.

"How many large or powerful seltyrs are there west of the mountains?"

he asked.

Rachyla cocked her head, then said, "Twelve. There are only twelve of the west, as there are only... were only twelve of the east. Some of the growers in the west hold more land than some of the seltyrs in the east, but they are not seltyrs."

"Thank you." Mykel forced himself to breathe easily.

"Why did you say I was right?"

"You said-you hinted, rather-that the seltyrs of the west might be a problem. They are. There are at least four companies east of the mountains."

"So... you will kill them all, too."

Mykel wanted to break through her composure, almost to scream at her that she didn't understand, that he didn't like slaughter, didn't want to kill so many men. "Perhaps."

"If you do not, the Myrmidons will."

"The Myrmidons have left," Mykel said. "Didn't you know?"

Strangely, Rachyla laughed, softly and musically. It was anything but a happy sound. "You, too, have been betrayed."

Mykel understood exactly what she meant. Was the whole campaign really just meant to destroy Third Battalion? Were the Cadmians being scattered across Coras so that they could be destroyed piecemeal? Or was there any explanation? Would it be any better?

"You see, Captain?" She stood. "You need sleep. I have nothing more to say. Good night."They faced each other for several moments.

Finally, Mykel said, "Good night, Lady Rachyla."

He rapped on the door and left without saying a word to the guards.

Whether he was right or not, there was no way that the seltyrs could have gotten so many Cadmian weapons without some alectors supporting them. While the seltyrs saw more clearly than other landers that the world ran on force, their mistake had been that they'd thought that the alectors would respect force, rather than crash it. The rest of Corus accepted what was-mostly, anyway-and that was that there was no practical way to use force against the alectors and their Myrmidons-or even against the Cadmians. Because of its comparative isolation, or for some other reason, the seltyrs and those who controlled Dramur hadn't learned that lesson.

Mykel wasn't particu-larly happy being the one to administer it. What was happening in Dramur should have been obvious to him much earlier, but it just wasn't the sort of thing that a Cadmian captain would expect. What else was likely to happen that he didn't expect?

Mykel walked back toward the stables. He needed to find his gear. He needed to check his own weapon. He needed to get washed up and get rid of the blood. And he needed sleep.

70.

What then is the role of belief for an alector in these times and those to come?

Understanding the hold that belief lays upon the undis-cerning is the first step. There are beings who discern and those who do not. Those who discern are, in the normal course of events, of the alectors, although we must admit that not all alectors are as discerning as they should be, and some discern not at all. Likewise, not all people of the lands are undiscerning, and, as will be discussed later, those of the lands who are discerning are most dangerous and must be handled with the greatest of care.

Whether alectors or peoples of the lands, those who do not discern are but the highest of the animals. Because they are like unto the cattle of the fields and the sheep in the meadows, a discerning alector's role is to care for them. They must be fed, and they must be kept happy and healthy.

They must also come to understand that not all their desires can besatisfied, and therein lies the role of justice and discipline, for, as in the case of animals, one cannot appeal to the reason of an undiscerning individual, for one such has no true ability to reason. Rather, such an individual wants and feels, then uses a crude form of logic to rationalize those desires. The most dangerous are those who are skilled with the tools of logic and reason and yet have no true understanding of the universe that surrounds them, for they will use such logic to make themselves the center of their limited world, regardless of the cost to others-or to themselves.

Most important, because not all desires can be satisfied, an alector must also offer comfort to the undiscerning. One of those comforts is that of faith, the comfort of the irrational, the comfort of believing that a supreme being cares for each and every being who prays to this deity. An alector may claim, "But I care for those for whom I am responsible." That should indeed be true, but the truth as such does not offer comfort to the undiscerning, for an alector is not seen as supreme being.

It matters not that an alector ensures that murderers are caught and punished, or that food is shared equitably so that none starve. It matters not that an alector provides justice and a land where the industrious prosper. The undiscerning will not praise the alector for such; they will claim that all the benefits provided by the alectors are the "will of the deity."

For these reasons, a truly wise alector will always align himself with the perceptions of the undiscerning. He will not claim credit for what he has done, but will remain modest, and assert that he was but carrying out the will of the deity, "the One Who Is," or "the Almighty," or whatever divine appellation the undiscerning of that time and place have adopted. By so positioning himself he will reduce unrest among those over whom he is placed to care, and thus minimize the use of force and applied justice.

Views of the Highest Illustra W.T. 1513.

71.

Novdi morning dawned as gray as Octdi evening had been, but with asheen of rain across the stones of the compound's courtyard. The rain had stopped falling even before Mykel ate, but the clouds remained. A cold raw wind blew out of the northeast as he walked from the officers' mess toward headquarters. He managed a quiet burp and hoped his guts would settle.

Fried fish, day after day, was wearing, and then some; but he understood why, when the nightwasps had made large herds of cattle impossible and when no one raised many hogs, although Mykel didn't know quite why.

There wasn't much fruit either, except for the apple bananas.

Dohark was in the same position as when Mykel had left the night before, looking down at a map on the desk. Mykel saw that the overcaptain had even deeper circles under his eyes.

"Close the door."

Mykel did. "What happened? Seventeenth Company?"

The overcaptain nodded. "The survivors came in late last night. All eight of them."

Mykel winced. He'd feared that, but fearing and having those fears confirmed were two different mounts.

"Somehow, Heransyr let his company get strung out on a lane running through a valley. According to the scout, it looked peaceful. Men tilling fields, repairing stone fences. Then a squad of those bluecoats rode in on the other side of the valley, and began shooting. People were falling like rain-"

"It was a trap," Mykel said. "They were pretending to fall."

Dohark frowned. "You know that now. How would you have known it then?"

"In all the time we've been here, I've never seen more than three men working together in one place. With that many men out in the fields, there should have been some women."

"Maybe you ought to be the overcaptain."

Mykel wasn't quite sure what to say. "It's easy to say that afterward, but I'm sure you would have seen the same thing if you had been there. Itwouldn't have felt right. You might not have been able to say why it was wrong, but you would have known."

A brief smile flitted across Dohark's face. "You can go by feel as a captain. It's harder when you can't see what's happening." He looked at Mykel. "How many companies do you think the western seltyrs have?"

"I'd say that they had thirteen to start, and that the eastern seltyrs might have eleven."

"Where did you come up with those numbers?"

Mykel shrugged. "It's a guess. The captives we took yesterday morning said that every seltyr in the west had raised a company, except for one, and he had raised two. Seltyr Ubarjyr's daughter-she's a captive here-told me last night that there were twelve seltyrs in the east and twelve in the west. We wiped out Ubarjyr's company. So... twenty-three or twenty-four."

"You talked to her last night?"

"After we talked. I've been trying to find out things from her all along.

Every so often she says something, and it goes with something else."

"That's one thing I like about you. Behind that agreeable face, you're like a dog looking for a bone. You just keep sniffing around, and you don't give up. What else have you learned?"

"Not much. She was the one that hinted that we might have trouble with the western seltyrs. She also intimated that there are companies here in the east."

"We haven't found any."

"Would we, sir, after the raid on Stylan Estate?"

"It'd be unlikely, that's certain," admitted Dohark.

Silence stretched out in the study.

"I have a question, sir," Mykel finally said.

"Do I want to hear it?" countered Dohark, with a flat laugh."Don't you find it a little disturbing that all of the rebel companies raised by the seltyrs have unmarked Cadmian weapons and that the moment that the Myrmidon colonel leaves with his pteridons we get attacked?"

"I'd thought about that." Dohark gestured around the study. "One reason why I took this over. I don't think he'll be back soon." He paused.

"With or without pteridons, we still have a mission. What do you suggest?"

"Find out as much as we can about where their companies are. Pick them off, one at a time. They're no match for us if we choose where and how we fight."

"How many good scouts do you have?"

"Four."

Dohark nodded. "We'll need them. If we're going to choose where to fight and pick off these bluecoats, we'll need to know where they are and where they can go." After a moment, he looked squarely at Mykel. "Do you want to add the two squads-one full squad, really-from Thirteenth Company to Fifteenth Company?"

"I'd like the extra men, but it would cause more trouble. I'm sure they feel I set them up in Jyoha, and, in a way, I did. I didn't think Vaclyn would be that stupid."

"Most of Heransyr's survivors are all right. You take them, then."

"Thank you. We could use them." - "Go get your scouts and come back in a glass. We'll assign areas to all the scouts then."