L. Modesitt - Arms-Commander

Saryn’s head was still splitting. Closing her eyes didn’t seem to provide much relief from the shimmering arrows of light that flashed across her field of vision and stabbed through her eyes and into her skull. She also didn’t want to think about what she had done…or how.

After receiving final reports from the three squad leaders, Saryn ordered the Lornians to lead. Then she eased her mount into position beside Caeris, who did not look in her direction for the first kay, not until they were well north of Suedara and riding northeast toward Nuelda.

“Do you think they have more raiders around here, ser?”

“Not all that close, but I’d be surprised if this is the last that we hear of them. But it won’t be for a while, and we can’t stay here and wait.”

The squad leader nodded slowly.

“They probably won’t attack Lord Jharyk’s lands soon. They’ve already plundered most of the towns here.” As she finished, Saryn realized that many of the coppers and silvers taken as plunder had probably come from those hamlets and towns, but she wasn’t about to try to figure out how to return them, not when there were no coins coming from either the regency or Westwind to support her force. But…she still couldn’t help but feel a trace guilty.

Another half kay passed before the Lornian squad leader spoke again. “Ser…how did you know that they’d attack Suedara and take this road?”

“They’ve tried to plunder every other hamlet and town close to the end of the West Pass. This is the one with the most goods and women. They were trying to drive everyone here, then hit here and return to Jerans.”

“But why this road?”

“What other road would they take?” replied Saryn with a smile.

“They could have come in from the north almost as easy, or come across the bridge into Suedara from the east. You just seemed to know.”

“Sometimes, you just have to trust your judgment and act.” Even as she replied, Saryn couldn’t help but wonder. How had she known? It had felt obvious to her, but it had been more than that. She’d known. Saryn swallowed. Does it come from sensing order and chaos flows? A feel for what must be? Or was it just a lucky guess?

Saryn almost would have preferred the last…but she’d felt something beyond certainty.

Saryn did not press on the ride returning to Nuelda, and her force did not arrive until well after dark on sevenday. Even so, by the time she was riding past the nearly dark front entry to Jharyk’s redbrick villa, the lord-holder, accompanied by two servants bearing brass lanterns, had hurried out to meet her. As she reined up, she could see lanterns being hurriedly lit in the villa, and presumably in the rear courtyards as well.

Jharyk stood there fully dressed, and as dapper as before. “Commander, you sent no word, and we did not expect you, especially not so soon.”

“Good evening, Lord Jharyk.” Saryn had no trouble discerning the irritation in the lord-holder’s voice and posture. She forced the hoarseness from her voice and ignored the lightknives attacking her eyes and the throbbing in her skull.

“Might I ask what occurred?” His eyes flicked to the guards, then back to Saryn.

“You were right to be concerned.” Saryn smiled politely. “There was a good company or so of Jeranyi raiders who were attacking your lands and hamlets. They had sacked all of them except Suedara, mostly before we arrived, before we could bring them to bay.”

“And?”

“Ten of them escaped. The other eighty-three or so are dead.”

“I presume you have recovered some mounts and goods for us…to compensate us for the devastation we have suffered.”

“They’re Jeranyi horses, and they will be used to mount more Westwind guards to serve the regency.” Saryn kept her tone polite. “They were paid for in blood. Mostly Jeranyi blood, but also Lornian regency forces’ blood and Westwind guards’ blood.”

“My people have suffered greatly. Should they have no recompense?” asked Jharyk smoothly.

“If they need recompense, Lord Jharyk, perhaps they should turn to you. You did not have to raise and train armsmen to drive off the raiders, and that surely should leave some coins. We’ve removed the Jeranyi for now, and, after we get a good night’s rest and food and fodder, we’ll be heading back to Lornth in the morning.”

“You’re leaving that soon? What if they return?”

“They may return, but I doubt it will be soon. Not with nine-tenths of their force destroyed.”

“I see. Did you not capture any?”

“There were perhaps twenty wounded, but”-Saryn shrugged-“the townspeople of Suedara took out their vengeance on them while we were running down the stragglers.” That wasn’t quite true. It had happened as much because Saryn had been barely functioning, and the guards had been more concerned about weapons and stray mounts, as well as possible armed stragglers. “What ever simple fare your kitchens could prepare would be appreciated,” she added.

“After such a battle, we will manage.”

“Thank you.”

The evening meal was late and simple-cheese over noodles with fried cakes. That was fine with Saryn, who ate with the guards. She did sleep in the villa, if with the chamber bolted shut and a chair wedged under the door, hoping that a softer bed might let her sleep more soundly and recover from her use of the order and chaos flows.

Even so, she woke early the next morning, and while the lightknives had not totally disappeared, they appeared infrequently, and the throbbing in her skull had subsided to a dull ache. She washed and dressed quickly, and one of the serving girls brought her breakfast.

She was in the courtyard, ready to mount up, when Jharyk appeared again.

He appeared very subdued, and Saryn had to wonder if he’d talked to the Lornian squad leader or Saensyr. “Commander…I must apologize for any abruptness I may have conveyed last night. I was astounded that you returned so quickly and with such a staggering victory.”

“As we both know, Lord Jharyk, it is a temporary victory. That is why it needed to be absolute. We of Westwind are most familiar with the need to destroy enemies so that it will take time for them to regroup. We always hope that will suggest a certain wisdom in not provoking another attack. At times, as with the regency, it has. At other times, as with Gallos, it has not. I would like to think that the Jeranyi would be wise. I doubt they will be. Some lords are far too interested in amassing power at any cost. In the end, they lose everything. So it has been with the Jeranyi, and so it will probably be again.” Saryn inclined her head politely. “We do appreciate your food and fodder, and your continued support of the regency. We have left five mounts as some recompense. They are slightly strained, but they are basically sound, and in a few eightdays will be worth far more.”

Jharyk looked at her but did not speak.

“I would that I could offer more, Lord Jharyk, but because several lords, unlike you, have been remiss in remitting their tariffs, the treasury of the regency is not what it could be.” Or what it will be, if I have anything to do about it.

“I understand, Commander. It may be that will not be an issue in the future.”

Saryn could almost hear the words “one way or another,” although the lord-holder only smiled politely. “It may not be. We need to be on our way.”

“Of course.”

Saryn mounted quickly, checking the saddle sheath before her knee. On the ride back, she’d made certain that she again had three blades, two in her harness and one in the sheath.

Then she rode across the courtyard to where the Lornian squad was forming up.