“How could I not? They followed my orders, and without the majer’s observations and understanding and their sacrifices in stopping Fahylt’s rebels, we would be in the midst of an all-out rebellion, with Myrmidons fighting Myrmidons, and the Duarches helpless to do anything. The Duarches can do little enough, it’s clear, but their image restrains many. And I still worry about the majer. He knows more than he should, and he has gained more Talent. I told Fhentyl that he might not survive, but that I would deal with the majer later if he did live.”
“He has been helpful to you.”
“I can’t help thinking about what the ancient said. Somehow, it seemed…unwise to follow the policy.”
“Trust your feelings,” Lystrana said softly.
“I have, but I worry.” He paused. “I have to say that I’m also worried about the ancients. I can still recall the one, the ancient one, telling me that I or we needed to change to survive, that we could not survive without the landers and indigens and that they could not survive without us.”
“We already know that.”
“This was different,” Dainyl said slowly. “She was saying that unless we had ties directly to this world we would die. It wasn’t a boast, and there was an absolute sad certainty behind it. I’ve never felt such sadness and certainty together in anyone.”
“She could be mistaken.”
“She could.”
“You don’t believe she was, do you?”
“No, and that troubles me.”
“Do you think they have that much power that they could do now what they would not when we were weak and few?”
“The weapon that Rhelyn used against me? She said that it was not an effective weapon, and that it was their responsibility. She said almost no one wounded even slightly by it survived, and yet that all my strength would not suffice to save me if I did not change.”
“How are you supposed to change?”
“Somehow, I think, to break the ties to the dual scepters and the Master Scepter and tie myself directly to Acorus.”
“Did she tell you how you were supposed to do this?”
“She said I knew…and she refused to say more.” Dainyl looked down at the empty wine goblet. He hadn’t remembered drinking it all.
“That troubles you more than all the unrest, and all the plotting, doesn’t it?”
He nodded. “Whatever happens with all the plotting, it’s something we have a chance to address. I don’t get that feeling after meeting with the last ancient. They are planning something. Whenever I’ve mentioned the ancients to Shastylt or Zelyert, they’ve made some statement about how we can deal with the ancients. I told them both about the ancient sword, and it made no impression at all. None.”
The two sat across the table from each other in the darkness, saying nothing.
Finally, Lystrana rose, gracefully. “We can do little more tonight, dearest. Tomorrow will bring what it will, and we will face it.”
Dainyl stood, then took her hand. He squeezed it gently.
With Lystrana…he could face whatever lay ahead. With her.
98
Mykel studied himself in the mirror. He had to admit he still looked pale, but he couldn’t stay at Amaryk’s villa any longer, for all too many reasons. He’d slept well enough, although he’d awakened several times, but he hadn’t seen or sensed anyone, not that he would have sensed Rachyla. Then, he had probably awakened hoping that he would see her, unlikely as that ever would have been.
Outside, two glasses past dawn, the sky was overcast, with thickening dark clouds that hinted at a storm to come. He hoped that the rain would end before the next day, so that he could begin the long ride back to Hyalt with the three companies. That might be pushing matters, given his condition, but even if he waited several days, he wouldn’t think about Rachyla quite so much in the compound, not so much as when he knew she might be around any corner.
What could he do? It seemed as though she would always consider him her enemy—or the enemy of her dead father, at the very least, and he hadn’t even been the one to kill the seltyr. He’d done his best to save Rachyla, and that had gained him only contempt, or so it sometimes seemed.
His fingers dropped to his belt, not quite touching the dagger of the ancients. Perhaps…perhaps…
He nodded. It was a wager of the greatest odds, but the only one left for him to play. As a mere Cadmian majer, he had few enough options, and fewer still in the future, he suspected. Do you want to risk it?
What risk was there, given what had already happened?
He took a deep but slow breath and looked once more at the uniformed Cadmian in the mirror, a blond and green-eyed officer with dark circles under his eyes, healing bruises splotched across his face. He tried a smile. It looked more like a grimace. Without looking at his reflection again, he turned and walked back into the bedchamber, where he clipped his scabbard to his belt.
After checking the chamber to make sure that he had not left anything, he picked up the cloth bag that Fabrytal had used to deliver his personal items and stepped out into the upper hallway. It was empty. He walked down the wide steps to the entry hallway, also empty.
Would Rachyla just let him walk out? He could not let that happen. One way or another he had to force the issue, to see her a last time. What else could he do besides what he had planned? Courtesy, kindness, interest—they had made no impression on her.
He chuckled mirthlessly, silently. She never showed whether anything made an impression on her, and because he could not sense what she felt, unlike others, he had no idea what lay behind her reserve, her measured antagonism. Yet, somehow…he could not just walk away. The more fool you, then.
From the half-open front door, the gray-clad retainer looked at him. “The carriage, it is ready, Majer.”
“Thank you. I’ll be there in a moment.” He handed the retainer the bag, then turned and walked back along the main floor corridor away from the front sitting room. Rachyla had a study off a short hallway to the right. She might be there. If not, he would try the courtyard.
The door was ajar, and he could see her sitting at the writing desk. She was not writing, but looking down at the polished wood before her that held nothing, not a book, not a sheet of paper. He knocked gently, then eased the door open and took but a single step inside.
Rachyla looked up, not at all startled. “Why are you here, Majer? I thought you were leaving this morning.”
“I am. I wanted to thank you again, personally, before we left for Hyalt. Might I come in?”
“I believe you already have.”
“Thank you.” Mykel tried to keep the irony out of his tone, but suspected he had failed.
“Why do you seek me out? You know how I feel about you.”
“Majer, you certainly would have recovered without me.”
“I might have survived the explosion and the wounds. I have some doubt as to whether I might have survived other aspects of recovering.”
“What could I have done against an alector, Majer? A chatelaine? A mere woman?”
Mykel shrugged, ignoring the twinge down his left arm. “At times, I trust my feelings far more than reason. This was one of those times. Thank you.”
“I will accept your thanks, Majer, nothing more. I believe the carriage is waiting.” Rachyla stood and looked pointedly past Mykel in the direction of the front entry.
Mykel managed to keep from frowning or tightening his lips. He had no other options, no other choices, but to go through with it. He took one step forward. “I would prefer it were not this way—”
“Majer…I asked you before, and you did not answer. Why do you persist in finding ways to see me? Do you not understand that I cannot consider you a friend? That such is not possible?” Rachyla squared her shoulders, facing him head-on.
For all of her directness, Mykel felt that she was not exactly meeting his eyes—or addressing what he had to say.
“Then…would you consider me an enemy?” he asked.
“Perhaps as a gallant and honorable one.” Her tone verged on bantering. “On a day when I am feeling charitable.”
Mykel withdrew the dagger of the ancients from his belt. “Then I can return this to you, on behalf of your family.”
Rachyla stiffened, but did not step back. “You would not.”
“I would. You will not see what is. Neither did I. Daughter of a seltyr, would you refuse such a gift?”
She straightened, extending her left hand. “I will not. You have been my enemy since you destroyed Stylan Estate as it was.”
Mykel eased the dagger and the sheath he had fashioned into her hand, careful not to directly touch her fingers. Then he stepped back. “You have accepted this dagger of your own free will, Rachyla of Stylan and of Tempre. It is yours.” He inclined his head for a moment. “To good-hearted and noble enemies, Lady Rachyla.”
Then he turned, walking quickly, but not too quickly, to the entry foyer. He did not look back, but kept his eyes on the half-open door that would all too soon close behind him.
If Rachyla had made her choice, then he had made his, the only one he as a Cadmian could—a Cadmian’s choice.
Tor Books by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.
Note: Within series, books are best read in listed order.
-----
THE IMAGER PORTFOLIO
The continent of Solidar—once Lydar—is home to a strange and rare breed of magic user. Imagers can bring into being almost anything they can imagine…but their power is dangerous to themselves as well as to others, and their life expectancy is short. Because they are both feared and vulnerable, Imagers must live separately from the rest of society. Some are exploited by ordinary people with political and economic power…while others are wise enough to build a future when their powers may put to the service of the common good.
Imager
Imager’s Challenge
Imager’s Intrigue
Scholar
Princeps
Imager’s Battalion
Antiagon Fire
Rex Regis
Madness in Solidar (forthcoming)
THE COREAN CHRONICLES
Corus today is a world of contending countries, of struggling humans, strange animals, and elusive supernatural creatures. It is still a place of magical powers, but only a few people are Talented enough to use them. Alucius is one of those people. With Corus changing again, Alucius and his Talent will have a central role to play.
Legacies
Darknesses
Scepters
Alector’s Choice
Cadmian’s Choice
Soarer’s Choice
The Lord-Protector’s Daughter
Lady-Protector
THE SAGA OF RECLUCE
L. E. Modesitt, Jr.'s bestselling fantasy novels set in the magical world of Recluce are among the most popular in contemporary fantasy. Each tells an independent story that nevertheless reverberates though all the other Recluce novels to deepen and enrich the reading experience.
The Magic of Recluce
The Towers of the Sunset
The Magic Engineer
The Order War
The Death of Chaos
Fall of Angels
The Chaos Balance
The White Order
Colors of Chaos
Magi’i of Cyador
Scion of Cyador
Wellspring of Chaos
Ordermaster
Natural Ordermage
Mage-Guard of Hamor
Arms-Commander
Cyador’s Heirs
Heritage of Cyador (forthcoming)
THE SPELLSONG CYCLE
When Anna Marshall is transported from her boring and frustrating life in Ames, Iowa, to the very different world of Erde, she finds out that for the first time in her life she’s uniquely powerful. In Iowa Anna was a music instructor and small-time opera singer, but on Erde her musical ability makes her a big-time sorceress.
The Soprano Sorceress
The Spellsong War
Darksong Rising
The Shadow Sorceress
Shadowsinger
THE ECOLITAN MATTER
Follow the conflict between the corrupt interstellar Empire and the Ecolitan Institute of the planet Accord. The Institute must fight—first for their independence, and then to prevent the worst disaster in human history.
Empire & Ecolitan (comprising The Ecolitan Operation and The Ecologic Secession)
Ecolitan Prime (comprising The Ecologic Envoy and The Ecolitan Engine)
THE FOREVER HERO TRILOGY
Modesitt’s first major work. In the future, Earth is a desolate ruin, until its degenerate human outcasts kidnap a boy of immense native intelligence and determination—who grows up to become the force behind a plan to make Earth flower again.
The Forever Hero (comprising Dawn for a Distant Earth, The Silent Warrior, and In Endless Twilight)
THE GHOST BOOKS
In this alternate history world, the United States never came into existence, Russia is still ruled by the Romanovs, and ghosts are not mere superstition but have a literal physical reality—and political implications. Your crimes can haunt you, and the ghosts of your crimes are visible to others.
Of Tangible Ghosts
The Ghost of the Revelator
Ghost of the White Nights
Ghosts of Columbia (comprising Of Tangible Ghosts and The Ghost of the Revelator)
OTHER NOVELS
The Hammer of Darkness
The Parafaith War
Adiamante
Gravity Dreams
The Octagonal Raven
Archform: Beauty
The Ethos Effect
Flash
The Eternity Artifact
The Elysium Commission
Viewpoints Critical
Haze
Empress of Eternity
Timegods’ World (comprising Timediver’s Dawn and The Timegod)
The One-Eyed Man
-----
Sign up for author updates at: tor-forge.com/author/lemodesittjr
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
CADMIAN’S CHOICE: THE FIFTH BOOK OF THE COREAN CHRONICLES
Copyright © 2006 by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
Edited by David G. Hartwell
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
ww.tor.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Modesitt, L. E.
Cadmian’s choice / L. E. Modesitt, Jr.—1st ed.
p. cm.—(The fifth book of the Corean chronicles)
“A Tom Doherty Associates Book.”
ISBN: 978-0-7653-1528-1
1. Corus (Imaginary place)—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3563.O264C33 2006
813'.54—dc22
2005025544