“Ser?”
“Send out a few scouts, away from the road. I don’t want anyone sneaking up on us while we reply to Lord Henstrenn.”
“Yes, ser.”
As Saryn rode back toward Maeldyn and the others, she again tried to sense whether anyone was hiding nearby…or even approaching. So far as she could tell, no one was nearby, not besides their force and the parley squad.
Once she reined up, she reread Henstrenn’s insulting note once more and mentally worked on a response until Maeldyn passed her the pen. Writing in the saddle with what amounted to a quill and an inkwell wasn’t exactly easy, but she managed to write out her reply without any terrible errors or ink blots, then read it over one last time.
My dear Lord Henstrenn:
One really should not make threats that one cannot carry out. Such threats have a tendency to make your betters irritated, and such irritation can only redound to your disadvantage. Your attitude toward women is also unacceptable, and the time will come sooner than you believe that you will have to deal with women more powerful than you. Needless to say, your offer is neither practical nor acceptable.
She signed what she had written, then held it for a time to dry. As she folded the sheet and slipped it back into the envelope, she frowned. Something wasn’t right. She was sensing a fuzziness somewhere to her left…an almost-chaotic swirling, although she could see nothing.
That wasn’t right. It was as though her eyes slid away from that patch of bushes that were barely waist high. She thrust the envelope inside her tunic.
“Maeldyn! Spalkyn! Use your armsmen to make the parley squad surrender or cut them down! Using a parley squad to conceal an attack voids any truce!” Saryn turned the gelding and rode back toward Shalya. “First squad! On me! Tight formation!”
Then she rode toward what she thought was the chaos–concealment shield, gathering and weaving order and chaos flows together, even while she drew one of the blades from the knee sheath, rather than from the easier-to-reach battle harness. Behind her, first squad formed a tight wedge. That was a gamble, because a tight formation would suffer greater losses if Saryn’s shields failed, but she couldn’t protect a wider formation.
She was almost a hundred yards away from the bushes when a fire-bolt arched toward her. Her first attempt at throwing a small sliding shield at the fiery chaos was successful only in that it redirected the chaos just enough that the mass of fire slammed into the sand and dirt less than ten yards in front of her, and she barely avoided riding into it.
Frig!
A second firebolt followed the first, but Saryn managed to deflect it without using much effort, as she did with the third. By then she was close enough to fling the short sword at the chaos-shaded form that she could sense, but still not see. As she released the blade, she added just a touch of order to the point, then smoothed its path and increased its force, using order and chaos.
Less than ten yards from where she sensed the indistinct chaos-mage, flame flared around the blade, and both blade and flame dropped to the ground.
Saryn launched a second blade.
The same thing happened again, but almost at the spot where Saryn felt the white wizard was. When the chaos flared away, so did the concealment shield, revealing a squad of mounted armsmen in brilliant red tunics with gold trim, their sabres ready, and starting to charge toward first squad.
Saryn threw the third blade, at less than thirty yards, directly at the wizard, attired in red as well, and then drew the fourth blade, trying to fashion a narrow and yet thin order-chaos-knife before she released it at the squad of armsmen.
The white wizard flung up a chaos-barrier of some sort, but the black-iron short sword slammed through it and into the wizard, and a pillar of flame exploded in all directions, just as the order-bounded chaos-knife sliced through the center of the red-clad squad of men and mounts.
Saryn guided the gelding right after the chaos-knife because she didn’t want to get close to any possible survivors, not without weapons. First squad followed her lead, and the three armsmen in red who had been outside the range of the order-chaos-blade were so stunned that they went down under the short swords of the guards at the outer edge of the wedge.
Saryn could barely see through the dust as she reined up well past the fallen armsmen, but she immediately used her senses to check the area. She could feel no one, and she had only the slightest headache…and no lightknives stabbed into her eyes.
So far. She’d have to eat something, though, and drink more than she wanted. That, she was learning from experience, helped greatly.
Were the red-and-gold armsmen Suthyan? She didn’t know from where else they could have come.
Shortly, Shalya brought first squad back into formation facing Saryn. “No survivors, ser.”
“Recover everything you can quickly.” Saryn paused. “There might be one of my blades that’s in one piece. There aren’t any other armsmen close. Not now. I’m going to tell the other lord-holders what happened. As soon as you’re done, if you’d report to me?”
“Yes, ser.” Shalya inclined her head.
Saryn took her time riding back, remembering to get out her water bottle and drink, and then eat several of the hard biscuits she’d slipped into a pouch at the top of her saddlebags.
As she neared Zeldyan and the other two lord-holders, she could feel a sense of nausea from the former regent, as well as from Maeldyn.
“Did you capture anyone?” asked Spalkyn.
“No. They were all dead after the first charge. Were the red-coats Suthyan armsmen, or did they belong to some lord-holder I don’t know about?”
Spalkyn nodded. “The red and gold are the colors of Suthya. The traders believe in spending others’ blood for their gold.”
Saryn reined up facing the three. “Since they supplied the mage and armsmen, I don’t think there’s much doubt that they’re behind Henstrenn.”
“It didn’t do them much good,” said Zeldyan.
“Not here,” replied Saryn, “but there are likely several more at Duevek, according to what we learned earlier.”
“How did you manage all that?” asked Maeldyn.
“We just charged them with cold iron,” answered Saryn before asking quickly, “What happened to the parley squad?”
“The moment you started to ride, they galloped off,” Maeldyn said. “I decided against chasing them at that speed.”
Saryn nodded. “That was probably a good idea. They might have had another trap planned along the way.” Henstrenn’s ploy just confirmed to Saryn that the lord-holder of Duevek didn’t respect either side of a parley flag.
“Another one of Henstrenn’s bits of trickery,” declared Spalkyn.
“It would have worked if the commander had not acted,” Zeldyan pointed out.
“I don’t believe you mentioned that you were a mage,” Maeldyn said dryly.
“I’m not,” Saryn replied. “I can’t throw fire-bolts or things like that. I still had to use a blade to kill him. In fact, I ended up using four. The fire that exploded was his chaos against the iron of the blade.” That was an oversimplification, but Saryn really didn’t want all of Lornth to think she was a mage. Not any sooner than necessary.
“Besides, how could any woman master magery?” added Zeldyan, her words coated with irony. “We certainly can’t be trusted to master anything, can we?”
Spalkyn glanced from Zeldyan to Saryn, then to Maeldyn. He looked as though he might speak, then gave the smallest of headshakes and instead smiled ruefully at Maeldyn.
“I think we do have yet another answer as to whether Henstrenn could be trusted as overlord, or even to retain his current holding,” said Maeldyn. “I suggest we move forward before the good lord-holder of Duevek can come up with another scheme to delay us.”
Spalkyn nodded, as did Zeldyan. Saryn drank some more water and ate two more biscuits.
As soon as Shalya and first squad returned and reported, and the joint force began to ri
de toward Duevek once more, Saryn eased the gelding back to the wagons.
“Commander,” called Dealdron from the seat of the first, “I have your blades here. Four of them, if you need that many.”
Saryn eased the mount up beside the wagon with a wry smile. “I’ll need all four. How did you know?”
“You use blades. I made sure I had plenty in the wagons for you.”
“What about the other guards?”
“They can do with one, if need be. If you are without blades, all will suffer, and they all know that.”
“You make me sound like a one-person company,” said Saryn as she took the first short sword he proffered, hilt first, and slipped it into the battle harness.
“No, Commander. You are not a one-person company.” Dealdron offered the second blade. “A one-person army, perhaps, but not merely a company.”
Saryn almost dropped the second blade before putting it into the scabbard in the battle harness. “That’s absurd.”
“I think not. Why else would the Marshal send you to Lornth?”
“That’s obvious enough. She doesn’t want an enemy that close to Westwind.”
“That is most true, in both senses. Sooner or later, you would cross the Marshal. The later it happened, the more likely you would win. If it happened soon enough that the Marshal had to defeat you, Westwind would lose as well.”
“I’m learning more here about what I can do personally than I ever would have in Westwind,” Saryn pointed out, taking the third blade and slipping it into the right knee sheath. “If what you say is true…” She stopped. “She couldn’t have been lying when she said she wasn’t sending me to my death. I would have known. She couldn’t lie to me, and she knew that, and she made sure I knew.”
“The truth can conceal a greater truth. She wasn’t sending you to your death. That wouldn’t have served her well,” Dealdron said.
“Then…why…” Saryn shook her head. “You can’t be serious. She couldn’t…could she?” Ryba is capable of anything. You of all people should know that.
In response, Dealdron extended the last blade. His smile was sad. “Why do you think I am here? I knew you would not return. So did Hryessa. That is why Daryn and the children are in Lornth.”
Saryn took the fourth blade mechanically. It all made sense…too much sense…and Ryba had seen it all. Saryn had only thought in terms of removing the enemies of Westwind, but not beyond. I’m a tactician, not a strategist, and Ryba knew that. She knew.
“And I’m supposed to…what?
“Mend Lornth, as best you can.” He looked directly at her. “Do you really want to return to Westwind? To do what ever she wants, whenever she wants?”
Saryn swallowed. She knew the answer…and so did Dealdron.
LXXXVII
For the next kay or so, Saryn kept going over what Dealdron had said, time after time, all the while wondering why she hadn’t seen what was so very obvious. She’d seen Henstrenn’s and Kelthyn’s machinations from the beginning. She’d been able to read and discern most of the plotting within Lornth, and she’d understood how Zeldyan had been outmaneuvered. She’d figured out what the Suthyans were doing early on with only a few hints. But she hadn’t even considered what Ryba had planned.
Why not? Because what she said was true as far so it went, and you knew she was telling the truth, and it made sense? Because you had no idea you could do what you have? She shook her head. She said she wasn’t sending me to my death…but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen. She just might have meant that it wouldn’t be her fault, or that she didn’t see my death.
Finally, Saryn pushed those thoughts away. There wasn’t anything she could do about Ryba, and not much that she could do about the remaining lord-holders, not until and unless they defeated Henstrenn and what ever Suthyan and other rebel forces awaited them at Duevek.
Is that it, or is it that you just don’t want to think about it? How can you not? She couldn’t, not totally, but she also couldn’t do anything about any of it, not until they dealt with Henstrenn, one way or another…or he dealt with them, in which case none of it made any difference.
She glanced sideways at Spalkyn, who rode silently and with a certain preoccupation, and said, “Do we just show up outside Duevek and expect Henstrenn and his forces will ride out?”
“They’ll wait for a time to see what we’ll do. We have enough supplies that we don’t have to force the walls,” replied the square-bearded lord-holder. “We can also take supplies from the town as necessary. If, after a day or so, he doesn’t want to face us, we could fire some of the fields and orchards that are his personal lands.” He laughed. “We’d want to pick the orchards first, though.”
“If we burned the pearapples,” countered Maeldyn from where he rode in front of them with Zeldyan, “we could have roasted fruit.”
“Pearapples don’t roast that well. They just turn mushy. They’re better fried or baked in pies, and burning his grain fields won’t give us pastry.”
“I hope he’ll bring the fight to us. His people will suffer less that way,” Maeldyn pointed out.
“If that is the only reason he has to fight,” said Spalkyn, “we’ll be in Duevek a long time. He’s never been that careful of his tenants and peasants.”
After several moments of silence, Saryn spoke. “I’m curious. Why aren’t there that many archers here in Lornth?”
“Poachers are about the only ones who use bows,” replied Spalkyn. “Some hunters do on their own lands.”
“I’ve noticed. Why?”
“For one thing, until you angels arrived, there were more mages around, and a good mage could burn the arrows out of the air. That was especially true when we fought against the Cyadorans, and they were the biggest threat. Arrows haven’t ever been that useful against the Jeranyi because they never stayed in one place, and they always attacked in open formations on horse back. Also, they usually attacked just at dawn. Then there was the problem that no one could make bows that could penetrate and still be used from the saddle.” Spalkyn shrugged. “So archery wasn’t that much use except against other lord-holders, and anyone whose armsmen practiced archery was looked on with suspicion.”
Saryn nodded. Those are answers. Not good ones, but ones that made sense for Lornth.
“Why do you ask?” inquired Maeldyn.
“I have some very good archers, and I wondered why no one else did.”
“They can’t stop a charging company, either,” Spalkyn pointed out.
Saryn wasn’t about to point out that they could. They just couldn’t stop a number of companies. “No, but they can reduce the numbers enough that defeating the survivors is easier.” Saryn’s voice was wry. “I’ll be back in a few moments. I need to talk to my captain.” She turned the gelding and headed back along the shoulder of the road toward the Westwind contingent.
When she neared Hryessa, she reined up and waited, then eased her mount in beside the captain.
“What is it, Commander?”
“You remember seeing Duevek the first time, on our way from Westwind?”
“We didn’t get too close. It’s walled all the way around, isn’t it?”
“That’s what Lord Spalkyn says. He thinks that Henstrenn will wait to react to us,” Saryn said. “I have the feeling that he’ll try a quick attack before he thinks we’re ready. I’d like our guards to be prepared.”
“You think we should have the archers in place near the front?”
“Once we get close, have them ready. I’ll call for you. Because his keep is walled, they’ll have to come out of gates. Gates aren’t too wide. Our archers are good.”
Hryessa nodded. “I’ll go over that with first and fourth squads. They’ll be ready.”
“We also might need to attack from a distance if they have companies waiting.”
“We can handle either.”
“Good. That’s all for now.”
“Yes, ser.”
Saryn urged the geldi
ng forward to rejoin the lord-holders.
Despite Maeldyn’s concerns about another trap, the only sign that Saryn saw of Henstrenn’s forces over the next few kays was the almost-settled dust of the retreating parley squad. Before that long, the joint force was headed eastward from the junction where the old east road had joined the main road to Lornth. That was roughly a kay west of the town of Duevek itself. Before long, they were riding up a lane on the western slope of the hill-like ridge on which Henstrenn’s keep was situated.
The vanguard was only a few hundred yards along the lane off the main road before Saryn could sense armsmen waiting just beyond the ridgecrest. She eased her mount forward, up beside Maeldyn. “You might want to call in the scouts or warn them. There are armsmen and a wizard just over the hillcrest.”
“You know this?”
Saryn nodded. “About a company’s worth.”
“What do you suggest?”
“A modified flank attack. We’ll hit them from several hundred yards with archers. That’s beyond the range of mages with those fire-bolts.” At least the ones I’ve seen so far. “If they don’t move, they’ll lose a lot of armsmen. If they do, we’ll either attack or chase them or withdraw, as seems best. Any way it goes, they’ll suffer. You know they’re there, and if they come down the slope at you, you can be ready. I wouldn’t think that they’d charge an entire force with one company, but it might be best to be expecting it.”
“It might at that,” said Spalkyn.
For several moments, even as Maeldyn sent an armsman forward to notify the scouts, Saryn concentrated on using her senses to get a feel for the land. Finally, she decided to take the two squads on a more circular route to the left of the road—in a northerly circle—so that when they came into view of the Duevekans or the Suthyans, the road would be between them.
Then she rode back to Hryessa again and pulled inside beside the guard captain. “I’m going to take first and fourth squads and leave you with the other four. There is a company over the hillcrest, waiting. Once we hit them with the archers…” Saryn shrugged.
Arms-Commander Page 52
