"L. E. Modesitt - Alector's Choice" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

appeared. He knew that wasn't so, but it was the way things felt. Although he
was the number four Myrmidon officer on Acorus, when he studied all the
reports, he felt more like a glorified lander clerk.
He pushed the resentment aside. He'd had his years as a flying officer, more
than most Myrmidons, and he'd been rewarded for long and faithful service. He
could have easily been one of the rankers who spent decades or longer in
service, yet who never became more than a squad leader or an undercaptain--if
that.
He brushed back a lock of shimmering black hair, hair that needed to be
trimmed, he reminded himself, and glanced toward the window that looked out on
the headquarters courtyard. There, on the raised stage, a pteridon had just
landed, folding back its long blue leathery wings. The Myrmidon rider vaulted
from the saddle and handed the dispatch case to the headquarters duty squad
leader. So early in the morning, it had to be the incoming daily message run
from Ludar.
For a moment, Dainyl just watched the ranker and pteridon. Then he looked down
at the report he had been reading--the quintal operations report from the
Seventh Myrmidon Company at Dulka.
At the sound of boots on marble, he looked up once more, this time toward the
open study door that allowed him
a view, such as it was, of the main corridor of Myrmidon headquarters.
Submarshal Tyanylt walked quickly past Dainyl's open door toward the one
remaining study on the corridor--that of Marshal Shastylt.
Dainyl could sense ... something, and Tyanylt looked determined--or worried.
That was unusual for any alector, and especially for Tyanylt, who never showed
emotion other than a calm pleasantness--even when Dainyl used Talent-senses,
although Dainyl had always been careful only to use those senses to receive.
Not that there was anything that Dainyl could have done to alleviate Tyanylt's
worries. The submarshal was his direct superior and had always maintained a
certain reserve, more so than the usual for an alector. Tyanylt was well
respected, and well connected to both the Duarch of Elcien and the Duarch of
Ludar--and to the high alectors who surrounded both Duarchs.
The colonel forced his attention back to the report, noting that Majer Faerylt
had cited the loss of a skylance and the receipt of a replacement from
Lyterna. Dainyl paused, then reread the section. How could a Myrmidon have
lost a skylance without losing both rider and pteridon? That had not happened
in centuries. He jotted down a note to ask for a fuller explanation.
As he turned to the section summarizing Seventh Company's flights for the last
two-month quint, the slightest flash of purpleness--something sensed by his
Talent, not seen by his eyes--flared before Dainyl.
Almost without thought, he was on his feet and out of his study, nearly
running toward the marshal's closed doorway. He came to a halt outside the
door, but he could sense nothing through the heavy wood. Usually, he could
sense something.
"Sir?" he called. "Are you all right?"
There was no answer.
"Sir?"
With still no answer, Dainyl opened the study door, his hand ready to grab his
holstered sidearm as he stepped into the chamber, closing the door behind him.
Marshal Shastylt lay half-sprawled on the floor beside his wide desk. Several