L. Modesitt - Arms-Commander

That made a sort of sense to Saryn. “How am I to know who might be truly a friend of the regency, who might not, and who has yet to decide?”

“I have already considered that…Saryn.” Zeldyan drew a folded sheet of parchment from somewhere below the table and extended it.

Saryn opened and studied it. There were three columns of names, but nothing else. After a moment, she smiled. The first column was headed by Gethen, Lord of The Groves, the second by Henstrenn, Lord of Duevek, and the third by Maeldyn, Lord of Quaryn, a name that Saryn did not recognize. “Where is Quaryn?”

Zeldyan extended another parchment, one clearly older, and colored. “This is a map of the holdings of Lornth, as they were when Sillek’s father became Lord of Lornth. Some boundaries have changed, and, for now, there is no Lord of Rohrn, since almost no one there survived the Cyadoran chaos-fires. But that should help you know what holdings there are. I would request you return the map to me when you no longer need it.”

“Thank you. I will.” Saryn smiled but let the expression drop as she asked, “What plan do you have in mind in which I might be helpful?”

“I had thought that together we might visit some holdings.”

“Beginning with those in the second column? The first name first?” Saryn raised her eyebrows.

“That was my thought, once your guards and their mounts have had some time to recover from their trip.” Zeldyan smiled. “The holders are required to host the retainers of the Lord of Lornth, and the regency, once a year, for up to an eightday. That will provide some relief to our treasury and allow you to meet them and them to meet you…and your guards.”

“Do you think it wise to take both squads on these visits?”

“What would you suggest?”

“I have not seen many armsmen here in the palace,” ventured Saryn.

“At present, there is less than a company. There is a full company at The Groves.”

“You aren’t leaving yourself much protection.”

“I need little. All know that in less than four years, Nesslek will be overlord. Besides, were I to die in some unfortunate fashion, my father has the right to name another regent. Only one is named by a vote of the lord-holders. If anything happens to Nesslek, however…”

Saryn understood. Still…there were other matters to work out. “We do represent Westwind, and it is possible that women who are displeased with their situation may come to us, for we are far closer here than on the Roof of the World.”

“I had not thought of that.” Zeldyan frowned. “It would not do to have consorts deserting their men. Nor would it be seemly for your guards to entice women of Lornth.”

“What about young women, or single women without consorts or children?”

“What will you tell the others?”

“That we are a fighting unit, and that while we will accept those who can be trained to fight, we cannot break up house holds or act in a way that might orphan children, not when we are here as your guests.”

“I do not know…” mused Zeldyan.

“Would any man truly want a girl who wants to be a Westwind guard?”

“I could point that out. It would work with most.”

“Those who would not accept that will find other reasons to dislike us,” Saryn said.

“You may not seek out those girls.”

“I’ll make sure that the guards all know that and obey.”

Zeldyan sighed. “Nothing is as simple as one would like it.”

“No. What else do we need to discuss?”

The regent glanced out the window. “There is much you need to know about Lornth. We should begin over supper. Do not worry about your guards. I’ve told the kitchen to take care of them.”

“You’re most kind,” replied Saryn.

“No…I’m being practical, and I dislike eating alone.” Zeldyan rose from the table. “We will eat in the breakfast room, though. It’s far less austere.”

Saryn rose and followed the regent from the sitting room.

Over the course of supper, a simple meal of cutlets and rice in a cheese-cream sauce with early peaches from the south, she heard far more about the various lord-holders of Lornth than she had ever imagined she would need to know…and yet, the fact that Zeldyan knew such a range of facts and trivia suggested that it was far from trivial. Even so, Saryn’s brain was reeling under the impact of names and deeds and the grievances and slights claimed by holders she had not even known existed two glasses before.

Early evening passed, and it was full night when Saryn made her way to the upper level of the barracks and the single occupied officer’s room, where Hryessa was poring over an ancient folder of maps.

“Ser?” Hryessa rose from the ancient straight-spoked oak chair.

“What have you learned?”

“There’s no army here at all, less than a company.”

“There’s only one other company, from what the regent told me, and that’s at The Groves, guarding Lord Nesslek.”

“Are we here just to guard the regent, then?” asked Hryessa.

“No. We’re here to see that Nesslek lives to become lord.” Saryn shook her head. “The Lady Zeldyan has requested that I accompany her, with one squad, to visit various holders over the remaining course of the summer, and possibly through harvest. I’d thought I’d take fourth squad for the first visits and alternate squads after that, but you’ll have to take charge of whichever one is here.”

Hryessa nodded. “I thought it might be something like that.”

“I got the regent to agree that you could accept recruits, provided that they’re not married…” Saryn explained the rest of what she had covered with Zeldyan. “…if any who have been beaten or abused persist, all you can tell them is that, if they reach Westwind, it is unlikely the Marshal will turn them away, but you cannot hazard the guards here or Westwind itself.”

Hryessa nodded. “I hate telling ’em that.”

“You made the trip. So did every woman there.”

“More tried and didn’t reach Westwind.”

“I know, but we can only do so much.”

“Another thing, I’d suggest, ser,” said Hryessa. “We shouldn’t restrict the guards to the palace, not if we’re going to be here two seasons.”

“Yes?” Saryn waited, although she had her own ideas.

“I’d recommend we let them go into Lornth, but only in groups of three.”

“Three?”

“It’s a mite harder to persuade two others to do something stupid than just one, and one or two guards might not be enough in some situations.”

“Three it is,” agreed Saryn, “but no more than three groups at any one time, unless both squads are here, and then it can be six, and not tonight. I need to tell the regent.”

“That’s fair.”

Dealing with the guards and their relations with the people of Lornth was likely to be far easier than dealing with the lord-holders, reflected Saryn. Far easier.

Although Saryn rose early on oneday, soon after she started to wash up, her breakfast arrived, as if the chambermaid who delivered it had been waiting in the corridor and hurried down to the kitchen to fetch the tray. Saryn gulped the not-quite-warm fare down and finished dressing. She was in the courtyard before the barracks in time for the morning exercises that she and Hryessa had agreed to continue while they remained in the lowlands. She had just finished sparring with Hryessa-left-handed and using the weighted wands-when one of the palace armsmen hurried across the courtyard. Saryn stood back and waited.

“The Lady Zeldyan wished to inform you that Lord Henstrenn of Duevek will be paying her grace a visit at noon. The lady thought that you might wish to join her before he arrives.”