L. Modesitt - Arms-Commander

Then there was the problem of her own guards. She had but two experienced squads, and the lack of experience was killing too many of the recruits-but there wasn’t enough time to train them as well as the older guards. Yet she didn’t want to turn them away because, after they’d left their homes, what they faced if they had to return there was likely to be as brutal as the fighting they would face as Westwind guards.

Even with Zeldyan’s pledge, how long would it be before she could get supplies to Westwind? For that matter, given the location of Duevek and Hasel, and the fact that any pledges of passage could scarcely be trusted, how could she even have returned to Westwind without still having to fight in a civil war…and with even less assurance of an outcome favorable to Westwind?

On twoday, after more than a little thinking and planning the night before, Saryn was up early. After dressing and eating hurriedly, she sought out Hryessa a good half glass before morning muster…and found her leaving the officers’ quarters above the barracks.

“Good morning, Hryessa. What should I know that you haven’t gotten around to telling me?” asked Saryn with a cheerful smile. Bright and clear as the morning was, perfect for the second day of harvest, she didn’t feel near as cheery as her smile indicated.

“The cooking for the guards is better. The Lornian armsmen have stopped watching us, and they even drill and practice at times. Our guards have no trouble in the town, but they are always in threes. They have caused no problems. Dealdron and Daryn have built two supply wagons from the unused parts and planks and timbers in the storeroom. You could take one of them to carry more rations and grain for the horses. It would not slow you.”

“I didn’t think there were that many spare parts around,” replied Saryn. “Nor decent wood and timbers.”

“Dealdron traded for some of the wood. They found some parts. Daryn forged some. They are very good wagons.”

“What about blades?”

“We have enough short swords for each recruit to have one, sometimes two. Daryn is working on a second blade for each of the others.”

Saryn would have liked more of the shorter blades, but that had always been a problem, even in Westwind. “Check the blades we captured. See if any are short enough to be used as a second blade.”

“I did, ser. There were eleven.”

Saryn nodded. “How hard are you pressing the new recruits?”

“Some of them cried at first. I had the older guards talk to them. They are better now. Before long, most will be able to hold against armsmen for a short time. Some are already better than that. Shalya said that Yulia kept the second squad doing their exercises. They look stronger.”

They’ll have to be. “She worked them hard, but I need you to reform second squad,” Saryn said.

“With ten of the best recruits from third squad?” asked Hryessa. “I had thought you might. And you need one replacement in first squad.”

“I do, but I’m going to take fourth squad and second squad to Tryenda. First squad could use a break. It could be the last one they get for a while. Can you get fourth and second squads ready to leave by noon?”

“They will be ready the glass before midday. With a supply wagon.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Saryn couldn’t help grinning. “Oh…I’ll be going over to the Square Platter in a bit, after I talk to Dealdron.”

“You should talk to him, Commander. I will have three guards waiting.”

“I should? Why?”

“Because he is a man who would do anything for you, and there are few of them. He also can do many things.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She turned and headed down the steps.

She had barely entered the stable when she saw Dealdron leading a saddled horse-not her gelding-in her direction. She waited until he neared and stopped.

“Hryessa told me that you and Daryn built some wagons.”

“You will need them. You cannot travel through unfriendly holdings without more supplies, and if all the rebel lords ride on Lornth to attack the palace, you do not have the tools to defend it. So you will need wagons if we must leave.” Dealdron smiled. “Also, with all the weapons you have captured, we will need to build another one.”

“Daryn needs to forge more blades, not build wagons.”

“He only does a little. The new guards help me, and I am training some of them to be teamsters.” He paused and inclined his head toward the horse whose reins he held. “I have saddled one of the strongest mares for you. She is better than any of the other horses.”

“How did you know I was riding anywhere?”

He shrugged. “It seemed that you would. The gelding should rest. So should you, but you will not. You are like the great winds that never stop.”

Saryn doubted his words were a compliment. “What have you heard that I should know?”

“The Lornian armsmen are worried. Some have left.”

“They’ve deserted?”

“Only a few. The undercaptain is pressing them to spar and drill more, but they are less than pleased. The taverns are charging half a copper more for ale, and the harvests are coming in earlier this year because the summer was hotter and drier.”

Earlier harvests mean it will be sooner rather than later when the rebels can raise more troops. “Anything else?”

“We have added another sheath to your saddle, on the right side. You can carry four blades.” Dealdron paused. “I heard that you were left without a blade.”

“Thank you.” What else could she say? The words weren’t offered in the puppy-dog fashion of a boy trying to curry favor, nor were they strictly matter-of-fact. Dealdron was deeply worried that she might not have the weapons she needed.

He extended the mare’s reins, and she took them. “Will it be all right to take the gelding later today?”

“The mare would be better. She is almost as strong, and the gelding should be reshod and rested.”

“Then I’ll take the mare.” Saryn swung up into the saddle of the mare, then turned her toward the three guards riding toward her. She recognized only one of the three, the one with a dressing across her forearm. “Feyla, how is the arm?”

“Almost healed.”

Saryn could sense that, as well as the fact that her arm held none of the whitish chaos suggesting infection.

“Commander, ser,” Feyla said quickly, “Duena and Shayni are with third squad.”

“It’s good to see you. Captain Hryessa told you I’m headed to the Square Platter?”

“Yes, ser.”

“It shouldn’t take long.” Saryn urged her mount forward.

The three others followed.

The armsmen at the gates glanced at the four riders approaching, then immediately began to slide the ancient and heavy iron bolts away before opening the gates. Two of them glanced toward the shapely Duena, then looked away quickly when they saw Saryn’s eyes on them. As she rode through the gate, her senses allowed her to pick up parts of the murmured conversation

“…that one’s a tyrant…pin you to the wall with that short blade as soon as look at you…saw what she did out on the green…colder than…”

“…bitches often the beautiful ones…You wonder what…”

“Don’t even think about it…”

Saryn managed not to turn back and glare. Men… Except there were some who weren’t that way. The engineer hadn’t been. Neither, she reflected, was Daryn, although that might have been as much Hryessa’s doing as anything. And Dealdron…had he always been that way and unable to show it? Or had he changed because she’d encouraged him? Had Istril and Siret seen that? Or even more? She pushed that thought away. There was no point in even considering such, not at the moment.