L. Modesitt - Arms-Commander

As a lord-holder devoted to Lornth, I find that such a lack of concern about both the future of Lornth and the circumstances that led to the present unfortunate situation suggests consideration by all lord-holders of the need for a more impartial regency and one that looks to the early rule of Lord Nesslek under such. That is, unless the present regency will consider taking the necessary steps to reclaim Lornth’s lost lands and remove with due haste agents of those who have caused such losses.

I remain your most obedient and concerned lord-holder.

The seal and signature were those of Jaffrayt.

Blue and gray? Saryn looked up. “Do Jaffrayt’s armsmen wear blue and gray?”

“I would think so. Those are his colors.”

“This wasn’t the only one, was it? There were a number of messengers.”

“Yes, there were,” replied Zeldyan. “There were similar missives from Lord Rherhn of Khalasn, Lord Orsynn of Cardara, and Lord Keistyn. Kelthyn wrote expressing concerns that the regency was not meeting the needs of the lord-holders. Shartyr’s letter was less demanding. He just expressed a need for agreement among all the lord-holders in dealing with Lornth’s future.”

“So that he could claim to the others that he’d also written you but without declaring directly his opposition to you and the regency.”

“He has met you. The others who wrote have not.”

“If I’m counting correctly,” Saryn pointed out, “you’ve received six letters of complaint or threat. That doesn’t count Henstrenn, who’s already shown where he stands, even if he hasn’t put it in writing. How many of the remaining southern lords might support the regency, besides Lord Jharyk?”

“There are eight lord-holders in the south, now that there is no lord-holder of Rohrn. The only one who has not made his feelings known is Lord Mortryd of Tryenda. Although he is not actually in the south, Lord Mortryd tends to follow the southern lord-holders.”

“I can take two squads, one of regulars and one of recruits.” Saryn paused. “We’ll need a guide, and I think we should leave under the cover of darkness. Outside of the palace, few know how many guards we have here now, anyway.”

“You would do this?”

Do I have any choice? “If Jharyk and Lord Mortryd back the regency, with the holders of the north, most of the lord-holders will be behind you. If you don’t send some help to Jharyk…”

“Then much may be lost.” Zeldyan paused. “I should send a squad of armsmen with you.”

“One squad…those who rode with us before, I think. We will leave tonight after dark.”

“Let me send for Undercaptain Maerkyn to meet me in a glass. Then, before he arrives, I will tell you what you should know about Lord Jharyk.” Zeldyan shrugged. “I would tell you of the Jeranyi, but there is little I can say except that they ride and strike quickly, then vanish into the plains or hills.”

Wonderful. Trying to combat guerrilla warfare on horse back while helping a lord whose support is lukewarm at best.

Zeldyan lifted the bell on the table and rang it once.

The door opened, and Lyentha stood there. “Yes, Lady?”

“Please summon Undercaptain Maerkyn to meet me here in about a glass.”

Lyentha nodded and closed the door.

Zeldyan gestured to the chairs and the table. “We might as well sit down while I tell you what I know.”

Saryn took the seat across from the regent.

“Jharyk does not merely venerate golds. He worships them more obsessively than the ancient Cyadorans did their long-lost chaos-towers. He also obsesses over women, in a differing fashion, since he is now on his fourth consort, for various calamities befell all the others…”

Saryn listened, even while thinking, And we have to help this excuse of a lord so that all Lornth doesn’t fall into revolt and into the Suthyan Council’s hands…or purses? There has to be a better way… Except that she couldn’t think of one, not with the limited resources she had.

Almost exactly a glass later, at least by the sand-glass on the top of the bookcase, Zeldyan finished by saying, “I don’t know how much of that will prove useful, but that is what I know.”

“I think all of it will be useful in one way or another. It’s always what you don’t know that causes trouble.” Saryn rose. “I’d best start getting the guards ready.”

As she stepped out of the study and started down the steps, she found Undercaptain Maerkyn headed up. The undercaptain stopped and stepped to the side of the staircase.

“Undercaptain,” said Saryn in greeting, “a word with you, if you please.”

“I’d be most happy, if I can be of assistance, Commander.”

“What do you know about Lord Jaffrayt?”

“Besides the fact that he’s said to be a direct descendant of the Pantarans, not much.” Maerkyn shook his head.

“The Pantarans?”

“Oh…you wouldn’t know that, Commander. There aren’t any Pantarans. They don’t exist. Whenever the old-timers wanted to blame someone, they blamed it on the Pantarans…”

“You’re saying that he’s a nobody? Or that his family came from nowhere?”

Maerkyn nodded. “That’s what they say when they talk about people who claim to be more than they are.”

Saryn wondered how many more expressions she’d either missed or had to learn. “Is there anything else?”

“They say he doesn’t pay his armsmen very well.”

That figures. “And?”

“Other than that…I don’t know. I’m from the north, near Carpa.”

“Thank you.” Saryn nodded and continued down the steps, then out across the courtyard.

Hryessa had to have been watching, because she said something to Shalya, who stepped forward to take over the drills as Hryessa moved away from the guards and met Saryn.

“Were you right, ser?”

“Close enough. We’re going to a place called Nuelda, and we need to leave after dark tonight, as quietly as possible. Deryll-he’s the Jeranyi lord or chief or whatever-he’s sending raiders there. Lord Jharyk is one of the few southern lords supporting the regency, and he’s not equipped to deal with them.”

“The weakest hen house is the one that always wants guard dogs. They usually don’t want to feed them, either.”

“Something like that. Nuelda is a hundred kays southwest of here. It might be more. I don’t trust anyone’s distance estimates. Lady Zeldyan is sending one squad of her armsmen, under my command, and I’ll take first squad and whichever recruit squad…”

“Second squad. I’ve moved Yulia from fourth squad to be squad leader, and put two of the recruits in fourth squad as replacements.”

“Can you handle any more recruits?” Saryn asked.

“We’re still getting a few. Not so many as before. That might change if word gets around to the other towns. You think we’ll need them?”

“We’ll need every blade we can train. And every one Daryn can forge.”

“I’ve told him that. He grumbles, but he works hard. Dealdron has been talking to the other ostlers. He might be able to get ahold of a few more horses…ones that he can work with.”

“Ones that are trouble but that he can train? We can’t afford many others.”

“Just capture as many as you can, ser.” Hryessa grinned. “We’ve done pretty well that way.”

Saryn shook her head. “We need to go inside and go over the supplies.”

The two walked toward the barracks and the small space that served as Hryessa’s study.

By oneday morning, Saryn and her detachment had ridden for two days over low, gently rolling rises that held more meadows than tilled fields, and more than a few cattle and sheep. They passed orchards, but the trees were generally low, either olives or apricots, according to Saensyr, the older armsman who was acting as their guide.