L. Modesitt - Arms-Commander

“I’m learning more here about what I can do personally than I ever would have in Westwind,” Saryn pointed out, taking the third blade and slipping it into the right knee sheath. “If what you say is true…” She stopped. “She couldn’t have been lying when she said she wasn’t sending me to my death. I would have known. She couldn’t lie to me, and she knew that, and she made sure I knew.”

“The truth can conceal a greater truth. She wasn’t sending you to your death. That wouldn’t have served her well,” Dealdron said.

“Then…why…” Saryn shook her head. “You can’t be serious. She couldn’t…could she?” Ryba is capable of anything. You of all people should know that.

In response, Dealdron extended the last blade. His smile was sad. “Why do you think I am here? I knew you would not return. So did Hryessa. That is why Daryn and the children are in Lornth.”

Saryn took the fourth blade mechanically. It all made sense…too much sense…and Ryba had seen it all. Saryn had only thought in terms of removing the enemies of Westwind, but not beyond. I’m a tactician, not a strategist, and Ryba knew that. She knew .

“And I’m supposed to…what?

“Mend Lornth, as best you can.” He looked directly at her. “Do you really want to return to Westwind? To do what ever she wants, whenever she wants?”

Saryn swallowed. She knew the answer…and so did Dealdron.

For the next kay or so, Saryn kept going over what Dealdron had said, time after time, all the while wondering why she hadn’t seen what was so very obvious. She’d seen Henstrenn’s and Kelthyn’s machinations from the beginning. She’d been able to read and discern most of the plotting within Lornth, and she’d understood how Zeldyan had been outmaneuvered. She’d figured out what the Suthyans were doing early on with only a few hints. But she hadn’t even considered what Ryba had planned.

Why not? Because what she said was true as far so it went, and you knew she was telling the truth, and it made sense? Because you had no idea you could do what you have? She shook her head. She said she wasn’t sending me to my death…but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen. She just might have meant that it wouldn’t be her fault, or that she didn’t see my death.

Finally, Saryn pushed those thoughts away. There wasn’t anything she could do about Ryba, and not much that she could do about the remaining lord-holders, not until and unless they defeated Henstrenn and what ever Suthyan and other rebel forces awaited them at Duevek.

Is that it, or is it that you just don’t want to think about it? How can you not? She couldn’t, not totally, but she also couldn’t do anything about any of it, not until they dealt with Henstrenn, one way or another…or he dealt with them, in which case none of it made any difference.

She glanced sideways at Spalkyn, who rode silently and with a certain preoccupation, and said, “Do we just show up outside Duevek and expect Henstrenn and his forces will ride out?”

“They’ll wait for a time to see what we’ll do. We have enough supplies that we don’t have to force the walls,” replied the square-bearded lord-holder. “We can also take supplies from the town as necessary. If, after a day or so, he doesn’t want to face us, we could fire some of the fields and orchards that are his personal lands.” He laughed. “We’d want to pick the orchards first, though.”

“If we burned the pearapples,” countered Maeldyn from where he rode in front of them with Zeldyan, “we could have roasted fruit.”

“Pearapples don’t roast that well. They just turn mushy. They’re better fried or baked in pies, and burning his grain fields won’t give us pastry.”

“I hope he’ll bring the fight to us. His people will suffer less that way,” Maeldyn pointed out.

“If that is the only reason he has to fight,” said Spalkyn, “we’ll be in Duevek a long time. He’s never been that careful of his tenants and peasants.”

After several moments of silence, Saryn spoke. “I’m curious. Why aren’t there that many archers here in Lornth?”

“Poachers are about the only ones who use bows,” replied Spalkyn. “Some hunters do on their own lands.”

“I’ve noticed. Why?”

“For one thing, until you angels arrived, there were more mages around, and a good mage could burn the arrows out of the air. That was especially true when we fought against the Cyadorans, and they were the biggest threat. Arrows haven’t ever been that useful against the Jeranyi because they never stayed in one place, and they always attacked in open formations on horse back. Also, they usually attacked just at dawn. Then there was the problem that no one could make bows that could penetrate and still be used from the saddle.” Spalkyn shrugged. “So archery wasn’t that much use except against other lord-holders, and anyone whose armsmen practiced archery was looked on with suspicion.”

Saryn nodded. Those are answers. Not good ones, but ones that made sense for Lornth.

“Why do you ask?” inquired Maeldyn.

“I have some very good archers, and I wondered why no one else did.”

“They can’t stop a charging company, either,” Spalkyn pointed out.

Saryn wasn’t about to point out that they could. They just couldn’t stop a number of companies. “No, but they can reduce the numbers enough that defeating the survivors is easier.” Saryn’s voice was wry. “I’ll be back in a few moments. I need to talk to my captain.” She turned the gelding and headed back along the shoulder of the road toward the Westwind contingent.

When she neared Hryessa, she reined up and waited, then eased her mount in beside the captain.

“What is it, Commander?”

“You remember seeing Duevek the first time, on our way from Westwind?”

“We didn’t get too close. It’s walled all the way around, isn’t it?”

“That’s what Lord Spalkyn says. He thinks that Henstrenn will wait to react to us,” Saryn said. “I have the feeling that he’ll try a quick attack before he thinks we’re ready. I’d like our guards to be prepared.”

“You think we should have the archers in place near the front?”

“Once we get close, have them ready. I’ll call for you. Because his keep is walled, they’ll have to come out of gates. Gates aren’t too wide. Our archers are good.”

Hryessa nodded. “I’ll go over that with first and fourth squads. They’ll be ready.”

“We also might need to attack from a distance if they have companies waiting.”

“We can handle either.”

“Good. That’s all for now.”

“Yes, ser.”

Saryn urged the gelding forward to rejoin the lord-holders.

Despite Maeldyn’s concerns about another trap, the only sign that Saryn saw of Henstrenn’s forces over the next few kays was the almost-settled dust of the retreating parley squad. Before that long, the joint force was headed eastward from the junction where the old east road had joined the main road to Lornth. That was roughly a kay west of the town of Duevek itself. Before long, they were riding up a lane on the western slope of the hill-like ridge on which Henstrenn’s keep was situated.

The vanguard was only a few hundred yards along the lane off the main road before Saryn could sense armsmen waiting just beyond the ridgecrest. She eased her mount forward, up beside Maeldyn. “You might want to call in the scouts or warn them. There are armsmen and a wizard just over the hillcrest.”

“You know this?”

Saryn nodded. “About a company’s worth.”

“What do you suggest?”

“A modified flank attack. We’ll hit them from several hundred yards with archers. That’s beyond the range of mages with those fire-bolts.” At least the ones I’ve seen so far. “If they don’t move, they’ll lose a lot of armsmen. If they do, we’ll either attack or chase them or withdraw, as seems best. Any way it goes, they’ll suffer. You know they’re there, and if they come down the slope at you, you can be ready. I wouldn’t think that they’d charge an entire force with one company, but it might be best to be expecting it.”