Alector's Choice Read Online Free PDF Page A

ready,
Colonel,” announced Yuasylt.
    “Good.” Dainyl wasn’t
certain he was ready, necessary as what was about to happen might be. As he had
surveyed the courtyard and the squads of First Company, alectors from all
around Elcien had begun to arrive, coming in by themselves, in groups of two or
three, and standing on the north side of the landing stage. He could see several
assistants of the Duarch, quietly noting who had appeared.
    Finally, Dainyl
turned. “Myrmidons, ready!”
    “First squad, present
and ready!”
    “Second squad,
present and ready!”
    With that, Dainyl
turned and waited, standing at attention.
    As Dainyl and the Myrmidons
continued to wait, more alectors slipped into the courtyard. With just a few
moments before the third glass of the afternoon, more than a hundred
alectors—besides the Myrmidons—stood waiting. Although the day was not that
hot, Dainyl could feel perspiration oozing down the inside of his uniform, more
a result of his own discomfort than of any real heat, pleasant as the cloudless
harvest afternoon was.
    From the headquarters
building came three deep chimes. All conversation and whispers died away.
    The High Alector of
Justice stepped from the headquarters building. He wore a tunic and trousers of
purple, trimmed with black. Upon his upper left sleeve was a crimson armband
identical to the ones worn by all the Myrmidons. Across his chest was a black sash.
Behind him were his two assistants, attired in a similar fashion, except
without the sash. One carried the lash, with its black tendrils, tipped with
razor-sharp barbs. The other carried the mace of justice.
    The High Alector
climbed the steps to the landing stage and walked to the center, placing
himself three yards back of the empty justice stand.
    “Bring forth the
malefactor!” The High Alector’s deep voice boomed across the courtyard.
    The doors of the
headquarters building opened, and Undercaptain Zernylta stepped out, followed
by two rankers. Behind them stumbled an alector in nearly shapeless dark red
trousers and shirt, barefooted, with his hands manacled behind his back. Two
more Myrmidons walked behind the malefactor.
    The courtyard
remained quiet as the Myrmidons escorted the alector in red to the steps onto
the stage, then to the justice form.
    The High Alector
stiffened slightly as the Myrmidons unshackled the prisoner. Dainyl could sense
the immense well of Talent marshaled to strike, if necessary, but the
malefactor did not move as his wrists were clamped to the frame and a red hood
was slipped over his head. The Myrmidons stepped back, reforming behind the
alector and his two assistants, one male and one female.
    In the silence, the
High Alector stepped forward. “We are here to do justice. You are here to see
justice done. So be it.” He turned toward the alector strapped to the frame
“You, Bealtyr of Elcien, have abused those who trusted you. You have betrayed
the trust placed in you by the Archon and the Duarches. You have deceived, and
you have cheated all who live upon Acorus by your acts. For your crimes, you
have been sentenced to die.”
    The High Alector
paused, then turned to accept the lash from the taller assistant, who then
stepped back. The otüer assistant stepped forward, holding the Mace of Justice
in her hands.
    “Justice will be
done.” The High Alector of Justice raised the lash, and struck.
    The barbs on the lash
were sharp enough to shred normal cloth and flesh with but a single blow, but
the lash was as much symbolic as physical because, as the lash struck, the High
Alector used his Talent and the crystals concealed within the Mace to rip
chunks of the very lifeforce from the malefactor. Rather than waste that
energy, it was funneled to the pteridons formed up behind first and second
squads, who drew it and stored it for when they would next fly.
    The High Alector
needed but five strikes from the lash barbs before the figure in the tee-frame
slumped forward, unconscious, blood