L. Modesitt - Magi'i of Cyador

“Yes, ser.” Kusyl frowns. “Seven down, I think, both squads. Those that stayed mounted be all right, save slashes … excepting Thylt … lizard tail snapped his arm.”

Shynt eases his mount to join them, as all three continueto survey the twisted branches of the fallen tree. “We have no charged lances remaining.”

“I doubt if anyone does,” Lorn says hoarsely.

The silence continues for some time, yet the only movement is that of the handful of vulcrows that are gathering, flapping down to feed on the dead lizards.

“There is a second tree,” Lorn says. “Have second squad remain here with the wounded. First squad and I will circle the other tree, but we’ll stay well back. Well back,” he adds.

Shynt nods.

“We won’t send a message to the Engineers until we look at the second tree-carefully.” The captain looks at Kusyl. “If you’d have someone collect the lances that were discarded or dropped, and see how many are left with charges ….” He laughs once, harshly. “If there are any at all.”

“Yes, ser.”

Lorn turns in the saddle to Shynt. “First squad ready?”

“Yes, ser.”

Lorn and the first squad slowly ride past the midpoint chaos tower, then continue almost another half kay before turning southward and beginning a circuit around the second fallen trunk, at a distance of a good five hundred cubits. Lorn watches the trunk … and listens. All he hears are the murmurs of lancers.

“ … two stun lizards … never saw so many of those angel-dead leopards …”

“ … captain killed one lizard himself … big cat … lots a’ small ones …”

“ … better … got the worst luck of any officer …”

“ … not worst luck … worst wall … northeast always been bad … say it be the winds …”

“ … heard he got consorted on furlough …”

“ … might as well … lots don’t live to get back to Cyad ….”

Lorn concentrates on the fallen tree, but no branches rustle, and there are no signs of any other wild creatures-besides the vulcrows that perch on the trunk, and then fly back to pick at the carcasses.

“Not a thing on this trunk. Strange it be,” Shynt observes. “They were waiting for us at the first.”

Lorn nods, his eyes going to the ward-wall that lies still ahead, continuing to ride parallel to the second trunk, the firelance held out, even though the chaos charge is gone. He compares the bark to what he has seen earlier, a bark that is darker, smoother-harder perhaps.

As they near the wall that hardness is clear. Once again, the trunk has also destroyed or knocked out of the wall a good three courses of the granite stonework.

“Tough tree, this one,” Shynt says. “Hope we don’t see more like this.”

More like what they have just endured, and there will be no Second Company. Yet not a single wild creature has escaped-unless they had left well before the lancers arrived. Lorn shrugs. If that is the case, he can do nothing, but accept that Maran will blame him for that as well.

No matter how carefully Lorn writes his patrol report, Maran will find a way to blame Lorn.

AFTER TURNING THE gelding over to Suforis and ensuring that the firelances are locked in the armory, Lorn hurries back to his study, stopping only to drop his gear, and reaching the Second Company studies even before Kusyl-if Kusyl even intends to do so. Lorn carries the scroll passed to him by Suforis, who has informed Lorn that Lesyna has actually brought it from Dustyn. A second scroll waits in the outer study, one from Cyad through the lancer courier system. The one from Cyad has been opened and resealed, if most carefully.

Once he is in his study, and has lit the lamp to lift the twilight gloom, Lorn opens Ryalth’s scroll first, smoothing it out gently.

My dearest,

I have returned safely. It is most late tonight, but I will write now, else I will have little time for eightdays to come. No … Ryalor House did not suffer in my absence. Having three enumerators and a junior trader sufficed. There are many opportunities, and some I see clearly for the first time …. I already have a buyer for the lamps, and an offer on the melon ice wine ….

He skips over the rest of the general references to trade opportunities, looking for her reaction or his family’s reaction to their consortship.

You had asked I send the scrolls. I did, but I sent them with a scroll of my own, requesting their leave to call. Your sister Jerial appeared at the Plaza herself and escorted me to the evening meal. Your father apologized for not coming personally, but he asked that I understand his presence in the Plaza would have negated all we had done in our arrangements. They were not only kind, but far warmer than I would have believed. We will continue to be circumspect, and I have officially engaged your sister as my personal healer. That is rare, but not unheard of ….

Rare for a merchanter, but not for a Magi’i family without healers, Lorn reflects. Trust his consort and his sister to immediately find a way to work matters out.

… Eileyt is now a senior enumerator, and pleased with that. So am I.

Lorn nods.

If matters progress as well as may be possible, I may be able to return to eastern Cyador to arrangefuture goods and shipments as early as next fall. That would please me no end, and I trust you, as well.

The words, “my love,” are written above her signature.

Lorn smiles, looking at the last words. Finally, he reaches for the second scroll. While he knows Ryalth reads people well, he still frets as he breaks the seal and smooths out the heavy paper.

Your scroll arrived, accompanied by another, and I must say that you surprised us, not so much for your choice or the location, but for the timing. Yet I must admit that this was not totally unexpected, considering the situation in which you find yourself. The lady asked our permission to call, and Jerial escorted her to us, the best arrangement possible. I told her that while her courtesy was charming and her discretion remarkable, that she was welcome at any time. She is indeed remarkable, and I must praise your ability to see far more than either your mother or I would have …

Lorn laughs to himself. Those circumspect words were as close to a compliment of Ryalth and an admission that his father had been wrong as he was ever likely to get.

… Jerial is also pleased, although she has been hard-pressed lately as a result of recent unfortunate incidents, such as occurred the last time you visited.

Recent unfortunate incidents?

Myryan has also been pressed into service, and has had far less time with her new dwelling and her garden than she would have wished, but her skill is undeniable. Vernt may well be considered forelevation to a full second level adept in the year or so ahead, so devoted he is to his work. Your mother and I have introduced him to several young ladies, and, in light of recent events, he might even consider seeing one of them.

Your mother and I are well, if not possessed of quite the vigor of our offspring, and I am most pleased to be where I am at this time in my life …

Lorn frowns. From what he can tell, there has been another chaos-explosion, perhaps on a fireship, and a great deal of stress and pressure has been placed on the highest level of the Magi’i. The very highest level, Lorn knows, for his father is just below the three who lead the Magi’i.

The lancer captain looks at the locked foot locker on the far side of his desk. Tomorrow … tomorrow he will deal with the patrol report and the other administrative duties.

Tonight, he is relieved.

Half-relieved, he corrects himself as he leaves the inner study.

LORN IS IN his study early the next morning, working on the patrol report. Short as it is, he writes three versions, and it is well after mid-morning before he is satisfied. Then … he must plead for replacement lancers in a scroll to commander Meylyd. Drafting that request is almost as laborious, but finally he finishes a draft.