“Uplift is proscribed, sir,” Destrang noted.
“A proscription that the New Destiny Council has apparently overridden,” T replied with a shake of his head. “None of the caravan drivers interact with anyone outside the caravan. The only contact is the caravan master and his assistants who are acolytes of Celine. I tried to penetrate the delta at the head of the Nira River using delphino and selkie. They survived, but only because the delphinos turned tail when they saw that the region was populated by very large sharks and something that they said looked very much like an extinct pleyosaurus. I haven’t tried through Frika, yet. I’m almost afraid to think what she has there. That, of course, is where the Stanel reactor resides. I can imagine what she guards that with.”
“Yes, sir,” Destrang said, sighing.
“They also use ships through the delta,” T noted. “We managed to capture one of the sailors. However, when we started to interrogate him, a mark on his forehead flashed red and he died, rather horribly.”
“Shit,” Destrang said, shaking his head.
“So, tell Herzer that it’s unlikely that I’ll know what she is going to throw at him until, maybe, the last moment. I have observers around some of the reactors that they will use for extraction, but reporting back will be difficult. I will try to get the information, but I have a finite number of teams that are capable of what these men do and I won’t throw them away lightly.”
“Yes, sir,” Destrang said.
“Stygia is an enigma wrapped in a puzzle,” T mused. “I have no idea where Celine resides, where her labs are or, for that matter, how the place is organized. But I suspect the answer is: Horribly.”
“We’ll know when we win, sir,” Destrang said.
“Yes,” T said. “And I suspect we won’t want to. We’re done here, get back to Herzer. All of the information is his or Miss Travante’s ears only.”
“Yes, sir,” Destrang said, standing up.
“The colonel will show you out.”
“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said, then paused. “Sir, is he a real colonel?”
“He is now,” T replied. “I had him appointed when he got back from the recon mission in Stygia.”
Chapter Thirteen
“I’m glad there was a portal,” Megan said as they stepped through the mirrorlike doorway.
“Otherwise you’d have to have made one?” Herzer asked, chuckling. The exit point was in the Seventh Legion’s camp, which was set in a valley in central Sylania, not far from the Sussan River. The camp was flanked to the east and west by high ridges but they were at least five klicks away. The camp was crowded with legionnaires training and tending to chores but the first thing they saw was a group of officers standing stiffly to attention. Clearly they were expected.
“Countess Travante,” a brigadier general in the lead of the group said, rendering a salute and then dropping it. “I’m General Eyck. A pleasure to have you in Camp Devil.” As he finished the introduction the officers accompanying him dropped to parade rest, clearly on cue.
“The pleasure is all mine, General,” Megan said, taking his hand. “You know Commander Herrick?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure, ma’am,” the general said, nodding at Herzer. “May I present my officers?”
“Of course,” Megan replied.
Each of the officers was duly introduced and Megan shook hands and nodded as Herzer stood back and cooled his heels. Finally, the formalities were over and the general gestured towards the command tent.
“I’ve prepared refreshments, Countess,” he said, beaming. “And I was wondering if a brief tour of the camp…”
“General, we just came from Washan,” Megan pointed out. “We’re quite refreshed. And we have our first briefing scheduled in less than an hour. While I’m sure I’d be fascinated by your command, I’m afraid that with our time constraints…”
“I understand, of course,” the general said, somewhat stiffly. “I wasn’t aware that you were going to be part of the briefings…”
“General,” Herzer interjected, “with all due respect, all information regarding this mission is classified and, sir, with all due respect, you don’t have need-to-know. There may be a later time that might be better.”
“Of course, Commander,” the general said.
“If we could get a guide to the training facilities?” Megan asked, placatingly.
“Lieutenant,” the general snapped, pointing to one of his aides. “Direct Countess Travante and Commander Herrick to the training facilities.”
“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said, bowing to Megan and gesturing down one of the streets of the crowded camp.
“Herzer?” Megan said, as they followed the aide, trailed by Van Krief, Mirta and Shanea. “Military politics issue here?”
“I think the answer is: it’s complicated,” Herzer replied. “First of all, I suspect the general thought you were accompanying me, not a part of whatever is going on and, therefore, had all the time in the world. Second, he’s justifiably proud of his command. Seventh is listed as having a very high level of training; he’s pushed them hard. And with the possible exception of Duke Edmund, I doubt that any Key-holders have inspected it and given him the ego-boos he’d like. Taking a look around at some point would be politic. Third, I doubt very much that he likes having to move his camp to protect the training facility. I’m not even sure he knows what we’re training for.”
“There’s that,” Megan admitted as they came to what was effectively a camp within a camp. The facility was protected by a standard trench and wall palisade with a wooden gate. The palisade had a high, thin, wood wall so that no one from outside the camp, except on the surrounding hills, could see what was going on. The guards were Blood Lords, dressed much like the legionnaires they had passed but with their armor and shields marked with blood red eagles instead of the devil face fronting of the Seventh. Blood Lord units were rare since most of the training was devoted to inducting junior officers; the only facilities they guarded were those at their main base in Raven’s Mill, Blackbeard Base in the Bimi Isles and now this base. Not only were there Blood Lords on the gate, but they could be seen patrolling the palisade as well.
They were stopped by a sergeant who consulted a clipboard.
“Countess Travante, it’s a pleasure to see you,” the guard said, flipping to a page. “Your picture doesn’t do you justice. Lieutenant Van Krief, Miss Shanea Burgey, Miss Mirta Krupansky and Major Herrick. When were you promoted, sir?” the guard asked.
“Three days ago,” Herzer said.
“Congratulations, sir,” the sergeant said, with apparent indifference. “You’re all cleared to pass. Lieutenant, thank you for directing them here.”
“This is as far as I go,” the lieutenant said, smiling but with a touch of asperity. “Good luck on… whatever.”
“Thanks,” Herzer said as the gates of the facility were opened.
There was a dogleg made of heavy baulks of timber supported by thick pilings and backed by packed earth. It served to both turn any attacker through the gate and to prevent anyone seeing the facilities.