L. Modesitt - Arms-Commander

“And he supports the regency because of that loyalty?”

Zeldyan nodded.

“Do you need to send armsmen yet?”

“He did not ask…”

“But a loyal lord-holder should not have to ask, especially of a woman regent?”

“There is that.”

“Can you send him a missive telling him that you will be sending him aid shortly?”

“I cannot strip the palace…”

“We have some recruits. I can take a full squad and a squad of them.”

“They are not as well trained, the new ones.”

“No, and some of them may die. But then, two-thirds of the original angels died on the Roof of the World in the first year.”

Zeldyan’s mouth opened, just slightly. “I did not know.”

Saryn could sense something. If she’d had to guess, it would have been that the regent would have said something suggesting that it was no wonder the angels were so cold toward Candar. “We’ve never said. Now, it makes no difference.”

“The more I learn about you, Saryn, the more I fear what you bring to Lornth. Yet…”

“Neither of us has many choices.” Saryn forced a smile.

“No…as women, we do not.”

“Is there anything else I should know?”

“Not at this moment.”

“Then, if you will excuse me…”

“Go…do what you must, as will I.”

Saryn inclined her head, then turned and departed.

She still needed to make her way to the Square Platter to talk to Haelora and explain what would happen, but it was already getting late, and Haelora had said, clearly, that she preferred to talk about things in the mornings.

Saryn was up early on twoday morning. She had to admit she did enjoy being able to eat when she wished and to hand her dishes and laundry off to the chambermaid, since she’d done her own laundry at Westwind, as did everyone. Just those two conveniences made it easier to get out in the courtyard early to supervise and observe the exercises and drills.

After the initial drills, she drew Hryessa aside. “Do the palace armsmen exercise or drill?”

“They practice arms at times,” replied the captain. “They don’t exercise.”

“Riding drills?”

“No. We haven’t seen any.”

“What do they do?”

Hryessa shrugged. “They watch us. They accompany messengers. They serve as gate guards. They go out at night and drink too much. Mostly at the Green Dog.”

“Which is why the guards go to the Square Platter?”

“It’s quieter. The wine and ale are better.”

Saryn nodded politely. “Where did you get all the gray cloth for their uniforms?”

“We traded a few extra items that Daryn brought hidden in the wagon. Plunder he had the foresight to bring.”

“More than a few items, I’d venture, to get cloth for forty women, and all of it yours.”

“First company’s,” replied Hryessa. “Things the Marshal would have no use for but that could be traded.”

“You had them sew their own uniforms?”

“We had to sew ours when we became guards. So should they. No one complained. I did let them work it out among themselves. That was because two of them had been trained as seamstresses.”

“And scabbards?”

Hryessa grinned. “We found old leather ones here that had been piled up as useless, but since our blades are smaller…”

“You’ve done well.” Better than Saryn might have done in her place. “A little later, I’ll need a pair of guards to ride into town. I need to talk to the owner of the Square Platter.”

“How about three? Two seasoned and one recruit.”

“You’re trying to get them used to all sorts of duties?”

“I want to give them the sense of being guards. We’ve been pushing them very hard with the exercises and the drills.”

“You have a feeling about Lornth?”

“It’s not a good feeling, Commander. Things are too lax here. I think the overcaptain was stricter than the undercaptain, but Overcaptain Gadsyn hasn’t been here all summer.”

“He’s detailed to protect the overlord-heir. That’s why he and the other company are in Carpa and have been all summer.”

“They can’t protect him here?”

“Not if all the southern lords attack Lornth. His support lies with the northern lords.”

“It is stronger now that you accompanied the Lady Regent?”

“I hope so.”

“It is,” said Hryessa firmly.

“I’ll leave you to the rest of the exercises. I have a few matters to deal with. If you could have those three ready after the exercises?”

“Yes, ser.”

Saryn stepped back and glanced around the courtyard. She had no idea where the armorer’s forge might be, but she just checked the chimneys and followed her nose and senses to a building in the northwest corner of the walls. Once there, she stepped through the open door.

Daryn was already hard at work. Standing over the anvil, beating metal into shape, the smith looked drawn, and there were circles under his eyes. He did not look up, although Saryn could sense he had seen her enter. While she waited, Saryn surveyed the armorer’s shop. From what she could tell, only a few dusty tools-still hanging on the rear stone wall-had been left behind-besides the forge and the large and small anvils that were anchored to heavy posts extending into the ground beneath the stone slab flooring. Daryn was working with tools he had forged himself. In the far corner, a small boy and girl played with some wooden toys. Both stopped and stared at Saryn for several moments.

She smiled, and they went back to playing, but the girl kept sneaking looks at Saryn.

The one-footed smith finally replaced what looked to be a section of an older blade in the forge and looked up.

“You’ve been working hard,” Saryn said.

“I have no choice, Commander. The new guards need blades. Hryessa will give me no peace until they all have them. These blades will not be so good as those in Westwind. I can forge better blades, but I do not have the time if all are to have enough blades…”

“Like the rest of us, do the best you can with the time and material you have.”

A crooked smile crossed his face. “What else would I do?”

“You’re doing a good job, and I appreciate it. Thank you.” Saryn returned the smile, then left the armorer’s shop to find Dealdron. She had mixed feelings about talking to the ostler.

Dealdron was, of course, in the stable, checking the hoof of one of the horses. He looked up. “This one can’t be ridden for a time, not unless you want to risk losing a rider.”

“Just tell the captain and the squad leader. They’ll listen. If they have a problem, tell them to come to me.”

The ostler eased his way out of the stall, closing the half door behind him and looking intently at Saryn.

“How long have you been here in Lornth?” she asked quickly.

“Two eightdays tomorrow.”

“And what have you discovered?”

Dealdron shrugged. “I have no coins. So I have only walked through the town with some of the guards twice. It is a small town, much, much smaller than Fenard. It is cleaner, a little. From what I have heard, coppers go farther.”

“What about the palace? What have you seen here?”

“I would show you something…this way. I did not want to mention it to the captain.”

Saryn could sense nothing but concern. “Lead on.”

The young ostler turned and walked another ten yards, finally stopping and pointing. “This is a feed barrel.”

Saryn refrained from saying that she knew that much, but only nodded. “There’s something wrong with it?”

“Not the barrel.” Dealdron took the wooden scoop and slipped it into the feed mix. He brought it up, easing the feed mixture onto the half of the barrel head remaining, then setting the scoop aside and spreading out the feed on the wood. “See…the oats have been mixed with chaff, and there are far too many of the tiny oats and hulls. There is far too much chaff.”