“You said the guards could go into the town. Some went to the cafes and the taverns, especially the Square Platter. They’re more friendly there.” Hryessa shrugged. “Word got out.”
“How did the guards have the coins to frequent the taverns?”
“They did not have too many, but”—Hryessa smiled—“you must remember that there were many dead Gallosians not buried by the mountain who had no further need of rings and coins, and not all the coins found their way to the Marshal’s strongboxes.”
That certainly figured, Saryn realized. She’d been in so much pain after the avalanche that she hadn’t been as attentive as she should have been. “It’s all been as easy as that?” She tried to keep the ironic tone out of her voice.
“No, ser. We’ve had problems. I have two women locked in the armsmen’s brig, and every day the local patrol chief comes to make sure that they are still there. One, I think, should be whipped, and set free somewhere well away from Lornth. She stole silvers from the Square Platter, but we replaced them. The other”—the captain shook her head—“she took a blade and killed a man and a woman. I talked with the regent’s undercaptain. He said that any punishment that is merited by the regent’s armsmen is handed down by the overcaptain and approved by the regent. I said that you and the regent would decide the punishment for the two.”
Saryn withheld a sigh. She expected some problems, but not a recruit murdering a former lover or what ever the man had been. “Tell me more about the killing.”
“The woman’s name is Fynna. I believe she was really a harlot, but no one would say. She took a blade to a bouncer at the Green Dog, fellow named Ritta or something like that—”
“Rhytter?”
“I think that’s it. Anyway, the two with her tried to grab her, but she vaulted over a railing and put the blade into another harlot. That was when the two guards got her. They weren’t gentle. They carried her back here.”
“We can’t have that,” Saryn said. “Rhytter might have deserved it, but with her killing two, like that, there’s no question on what has to happen.”
“No, ser.”
“I’ll tell the Lady Regent, but I think she’ll agree with a death sentence. Don’t say a word until I get her agreement, though.”
“No, ser.”
Saryn could sense the relief in the guard captain, as if Hryessa knew that had to be the sentence, but she wanted Saryn’s agreement. “I’ll need to stable the gelding first, though.”
Hryessa nodded and stepped back, an enigmatic smile on her face.
Saryn turned to lead the gelding into the stable when a tall blond figure strode from the stable. For a moment, she was shocked. Then she shook her head and asked Dealdron, “What are you doing here?” Behind her, she could sense Hryessa slipping away.
“I came to make certain that someone was here to take proper care of your mounts,” replied Dealdron. “I am not as good a fighter as your guards. I can fight well enough against those who are not guards that no one will need to protect me, and that will free a guard for what else must be done.”
“The Marshal said you were useful,” Saryn said. “I do hope so.”
“I am not so useful as Daryn. He came to make sure that there was someone to repair and reforge the blades. None of the lowland smiths can do that.”
“I suppose he would know that.” She paused, then asked, “What about you? What can you do that the lowland ostlers and plasterers cannot?”
“Defend myself, if badly, and know that it is best not to argue with an angel.”
Saryn managed not to laugh, although she suspected Dealdron had kept much of what he’d thought to himself. “How did you persuade the Marshal to let you go?”
“I did not. I just slipped into the wagon and waited. Daryn helped.” Dealdron shrugged. “I think she knew that was what I would do.”
“Then why…?”
“She said that you needed help and that Westwind needed you to be successful. I can help, if in a small way, and I would not be able to if it had not been for you.”
“And you don’t totally trust the Marshal so far as men are concerned?”
“The Marshal will keep her word,” replied Dealdron. “How she will keep it I cannot say. I know how you will keep yours. That is one reason why I am here.”
Saryn glanced toward the palace. “I’ll talk to you later about how to keep making yourself useful, not that you seem to need any advice from me. I need to talk to the regent.”
“I have always listened to you.” Dealdron smiled. “Have I not?”
Saryn shook her head, again, even as she admitted, “So far.”
He extended his hand for the gelding’s reins. “I will unsaddle and groom him, and your gear will be safe.”
“Thank you.”
Even after he led the gelding into the stable, and she turned and crossed the courtyard, now clean of the sparse grass that had infested it, she felt as though Dealdron’s eyes were on her back. Although she appreciated his devotion, she couldn’t help but worry that he was already making her into something she wasn’t.
Saryn made her way to the upper-level private study, where Lyentha ushered her inside, past the guardsman, who resolutely looked away from Saryn and her weapons.
Zeldyan sat at the table, where several missives were neatly stacked. “You have that look upon your face, Commander.”
“What look?” Saryn offered what she hoped was a puzzled smile.
“The pleasant one that hides news you think I will not find to my liking.” Zeldyan sighed. “Little news is to my liking these days. What is yours?”
“Mine does not bear on the land of Lornth, but upon a murder and a theft committed by two of the young women who asked to become Westwind guards…” Saryn went on to explain, ending with, “…and it is my judgment that the thief should be whipped publicly, then sent as a servant or the like to another town. The one who killed Rhytter must be publicly executed, and soon, so that the people of Lornth know that Westwind will not tolerate offenses.”
“If you would send the thief to Rohrn, that might be best. They need people there, and she will find work. The other…Will you need an executioner? An axeman?”
“No. I’ll take care of it personally.”
“You would execute one of your own?” asked Zeldyan.
“She’s my responsibility. It would be wrong and cowardly to turn it over to anyone else.”
“I appreciate the courtesy of your coming to me, but you didn’t have to, you know?”
“I think I did. I will announce that the sentence is in accord with the laws of both Westwind and Lornth. While I do not wish to wait, I would think that at noon the day after tomorrow might be best. That way, there will be some notice to the townspeople.”
“Even that will not please Henstrenn and Kelthyn, you know? If you did nothing, they would claim you flouted the laws of Lornth. Now, they will claim that you are a ruthless killer, even of those who flee to you.”
“A ruthless, heartless, killing bitch?” offered Saryn.
“They will not use those words, but that is what they will suggest.”
“So be it. The alternative is worse.”
“All choices for a woman in power are unsuitable. We can only pick the one that does the least damage.”
“That’s true of all rulers, I would think,” Saryn offered, not sure that she believed her own words.
“It is, but the people, and especially the lord-holders, are more willing to forgive men when they make the best of two bad alternatives.”
Saryn silently agreed, but merely asked, “Have you had any word about any of the southern lord-holders?”
“Only a missive from Lord Jharyk of Nuelda. He is greatly concerned because his men have seen Jeranyi riders within a few kays of his lands.”
Saryn frowned, trying to remember where exactly Nuelda was located.
“Nuelda is southwest from here, north of Rohrn and Cardara, and on the old borders with Jerans,�
�� explained Zeldyan. “If I had heard from Jaffrayt or Keistyn, I’d let them use their own armsmen and hope they took heavy losses. But Jharyk has been most loyal to my father…”
“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.
LXIV
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.”
“You’re telling me that the regent is getting shortchanged on her feed? Or are our horses the only ones getting the poor feed?”
“I have checked the feed in all the stables. It is all the same. I cannot say why. I only know that there should be more grain and less chaff and tiny oats. For now, I told the captain that we should feed the horses more, perhaps half again as much. I did not tell her why. I just said that they needed more feed.”
“That won’t hurt them?”
Dealdron shook his head. “There will be more to clean up in the stables and stalls. If we are here into colder weather, the horses will be warmer.”
“The chaff is like the coarse grass?”
“Not as good, but it helps.”
“What else have you been doing? When you aren’t taking care of horses?”
“Sometimes, I watch Daryn and Hryessa’s two. Sometimes, I talk to the armsmen. They fear your guards. They are right to fear them.” Dealdron shook his head. “I have watched them practice their weapons. I am as good as some of them, and you know how poorly I do against the better guards. They almost do not seem to care. Can you help this regent, ser?”
“We have already. Whether it’s enough and whether what else we can do will be enough, only time will tell.” She paused. “It is a very good thing that Hryessa is training more guards.”
“She is hard on them. Some she will not take, perhaps half who come.”
That didn’t surprise Saryn. “Not every woman is suited to be a guard.” And even of those she accepts, more than a few will be killed before this is over. “I need to get my mount.”
“I already saddled him. I had heard you would be riding into Lornth.”
“Do you listen at the eaves?” Saryn couldn’t help smiling.
Arms-Commander Page 37
