Arms-Commander (48 page)

By noon on eightday, Saryn was wondering if there was a harvest season in Lornth, or if the people there just called the last half of an endless summer harvest. Zeldyan and the Lornian guards under Maerkyn were leading the way up the road. While Saryn had spent much of the time riding with the Lady Regent, for the last glass Saryn had ridden at the head of first squad, beside Hryessa.

“You've had a long face all day, ser,” Hryessa finally said.

“A lot on my mind,” replied Saryn.

“You worried about the guards, ser?”

“How couldn't I be? We're fighting in a civil war in a land where neither side is truly to our liking, just to prevent those who would be worse from taking over. To one side, we're a necessary evil. To the other, we're the horrible demons out of a near-legendary history.”
It's all to preserve something that's not that good from something worse. It's not building anything, not really, and fighting to preserve the less bad…Does it really accomplish anything?

Saryn glanced to her right, across the summer-dried marshes that separated the road from the River Yarth. She hadn't seen a single boat or barge on the water all day. When they had ridden south from The Groves to Lornth, there had been all manner of craft on the river, headed in both directions. Now….

“Ser…do you see any of the new guards complaining? Even those in second squad where some got killed?”

Saryn laughed softly. “They wouldn't complain to me.”

“They see us, and they see you…as something better. Almost all of the women with us here are from Lornth. Those from Gallos and Analeria aren't complaining, either, and they're not complaining behind my back or yours.”

Saryn offered a brief smile. “Do you really think we'll change anything for the better? Here in Lornth?”

“If you save the Lady Regent, do you think she's going to cross you?”

“She might not, but every time she does something that's less traditional, or that might make things better for women, some lord-holder will complain.”

“Not if we get rid of the troublemakers now.”

Hryessa had a point, but it was a blade's point, deciding by force. Saryn shook her head. Had any change in any society ever been accomplished without some form of force? “I don't know. I worry about young Lord Nesslek. He still seems to think that men and size are what count.”

“Men are always impressed with size. Especially if it's their own. In all manner of blades, it's how it's used, not how big it is.”

Saryn laughed in spite of her worries.

“Ser?” Hryessa's smile vanished. “What will you do if the worst has already occurred?”

“We'll have to find some way to destroy whoever did it. We can't let a lord-holder who believes as the southerners do take power.”

“We have but one true company. We are worth two or three of theirs, but…”

“If…if that happens, we will have to see if some of the northern lords will join the fight. Otherwise…” Saryn shrugged. “We will have to try something else.”
And who knows what that might be.

“You will find a way.” Hryessa nodded.

What sort of a way? At what cost?
Saryn feared that Hryessa was all too likely to be proved right, but to speak of that to Zeldyan would suggest that Saryn had known early enough to prevent what might already have occurred. And a grief-stricken mother was all too likely to turn on Saryn if matters turned out for the worst and if Saryn had suggested it before the fact.

She might anyway,
Saryn reminded herself.

Slightly past midmorning on a oneday that seemed even hotter than the days before, Saryn was riding with Zeldyan behind the squad of Lornian armsmen who served as the vanguard of the force. Zeldyan kept shifting her weight in the saddle, easing her mount out to the shoulder of the river road and looking ahead, then returning to the center of the road under the warm morning sun. Ahead of them, both the road and the river swung to the north, angling through a low line of hills. Before that long, the road and river would twist back to the northeast toward Carpa, some twenty kays ahead.

Sensing the tension and concern that permeated the regent, Saryn said little, not wanting to make Zeldyan worry more and also not wanting to offer false encouragement.

“Why?” asked Zeldyan abruptly, speaking for the first time in over a glass. “Why have they turned against Nesslek? Why now?”

That question Saryn could answer. “Because they think they can, Lady, because the Suthyans are paying Henstrenn and others to do so, and because your presence reminds them of how wrong they have been. By overturning the regency and removing your son, they can blame you rather than their own failings. It has often been that way in many lands on many worlds.”

Zeldyan looked sharply at Saryn. “At times, I almost forget that you are an angel who has seen many worlds. Tell me, Angel, what awaits us.”

Saryn ignored the slight sarcastic edge to the regent's question. “Other than lord-holders with bad judgment and a lust for power, I cannot say, Lady. I do not know when they left their holdings, how they proceeded, or how they intend to make their desires known. I do know that, what ever happens, Lornth will suffer far more than had they let the regency stand. I also know that is something that they will deny to their dying day.”

“May those days be soon.” Zeldyan tightened her lips and paused, before adding, “I still wish you angels had not come to the Roof of the World.”

“It was not our wish, either. We harmed no one until we were attacked. We took nothing of value, and nothing that anyone was able to use before we arrived. We were attacked because Lord Nessil and Lord Karthanos were too proud and too unwilling to let us hold land that no one wanted until we came. Each attack has cost those who attacked more, and wounded their pride more, and still they lash out where they can.”

“Your truths are cold comfort, Angel.”

“Truth has never offered comfort, Lady,” Saryn replied.

Once more, Zeldyan did not speak for a time. Then she said, “Have you ever loved?”

“Truly loved?” asked Saryn. “No…not really.”

“Has anyone truly loved you? Truly?” Zeldyan paused. “Sillek loved me that way, you know.”

“You were most fortunate in that.”

“Do angels love that way?”

Saryn had to think for a moment. Certainly, Ryba didn't. But for all her feistiness, Hryessa did love Daryn. And Nylan…“Nylan, the one you call the black angel, and Ayrlyn love that way.”

“Was that not why they had to leave the Roof of the World?”

Was it?
Saryn wasn't certain that was all of it, although…She nodded. “Most likely.”

“The Roof of the World is cold in many ways, besides its ice, I fear.”

“It can be, Lady. Freedom is not always comfort.” Saryn frowned. There was something…somewhere…nagging at her. After a moment, she extended her senses. Ahead along the river, in the distance, perhaps where the road ran through the hills, she felt…riders…hundreds of men.

Quickly, she scanned the land immediately around them. The mostly dried-out and low swamps filled the two hundred or so yards to the right of the road between the raised roadbed and the River Yarth. Slight hummocks bordered the road on the west, but the tallest was but a yard or two above the roadbed.

She turned in the saddle. There was a small hill less than half a kay back, barely large enough to hide their force…and the wagons.

“Companies halt! Outriders! Back!” Saryn ordered, boosting her voice with a touch of the order-chaos flows.

“What—?” Zeldyan looked to Saryn.

“There are at least two companies riding our way. We need to move back to the cover of that hill, where we aren't seen until they're almost upon us.” Saryn gestured over her shoulder.

“We need to get to The Groves,” Zeldyan said.

“I agree. But riding up to a force with greater numbers won't get us there sooner.” Saryn pointed to the nearly flat field to the west. “Trying to go around them that way will only expose us, and retreating kays and kays to the last ford won't help either.”

Zeldyan looked to Saryn. “It appears as though I am in your hands…again.”

“Guard captain! Third Westwind squad leader! Forward!” Again, Saryn boosted her voice.

At that moment, Undercaptain Maerkyn rode back from the first Lornian squad and reined in beside the regent. “Why have you called a halt?” He looked to Saryn accusingly.

Saryn waited until Hryessa also rode up and reined in, then said, “Armsmen are riding this way, two kays north, just out of sight where the road comes out of those hills.”

“The scouts have not reported…” objected Maerkyn.

“They will. Or they would have if I had not recalled them.”

Maerkyn stood in the stirrups, then dropped to the saddle and looked at Saryn again. “The scouts are returning. How did you do that?”

“My voice carries,” she replied politely.

Another rider joined them—Rydala, squad leader of third squad. “Ser?”

“Squad leader, there's a force headed toward us. I don't know yet whose force it is, but it's likely to be the rebels. We can't conceal all the tracks in the road, but they won't look that hard if they see armed riders ahead. I want you to take a position on the road, back toward that hill there, close enough that you can ride back on the road, not too fast, as if your mounts are tired. Before all that happens, we'll be riding back and taking position behind the hill, waiting to attack at the right moment. Your task is to be seen and let them get fairly close, then to recognize them, and appear to turn and retreat as slowly as possible without letting them catch you. They'll either pursue quickly or advance in an orderly manner. Either way, they are likely to focus on you and not be looking quite so hard for others.”

“Why would that be?” asked Maerkyn.

“First, the rebel lords know that we only brought two squads from Westwind. Second, they've only seen the Westwind guards in groups of one or two squads,” Saryn explained. “And those likely to be ahead haven't seen us with any Lornian armsmen.”

“How many are there?” asked Maerkyn.

Saryn concentrated for a moment, then shook her head. “They're still too far away to be certain, but it feels like three companies.”

Maerkyn frowned. “We have a little less than two companies.”

“That may be, but the regent has decided that we need to get to The Groves, and we won't get there by pulling back.” Saryn nodded politely. “If you would like to escort the regent back to the high ground behind the hill…?”

Maerkyn glanced to Zeldyan, then replied, “Of course.”

“I'd thought that you would take the western side of the back side of the hill, and we would take the east. That way, third squad could rejoin us easily.”

“What then?” asked the undercaptain.

“We attack, and when the time is right, you leave a squad to protect the regent, and follow up and attack their weakest point…or any squads that are isolated and easy pickings.”

“Just like that?” Maerkyn's voice verged on scornful.

“Fairly so,” replied Saryn. “It seems to work. We've beaten something like four companies so far, always with two squads or less.” They might have faced more than that, but Saryn wasn't about to take the time to count up the casualties. “Now…if we don't want to get caught in the open on the road here, I'd suggest we remove ourselves to behind that hill.”

Maerkyn looked to Zeldyan. The regent nodded, then added, “She has been rather successful at this, Undercaptain. Repeatedly.”

Maerkyn nodded. “Then let us withdraw to the high ground, Regent, and prepare.”

Saryn looked to Rydala. “Hold your squad in place until I move the others back. Then move back closer to the hill.”

“Yes, ser.”

Saryn turned to Hryessa. “I'd like you to make sure that the wagons are out of sight, then lead fourth, fifth, and sixth squads. Hold back for a bit, then follow up as you see fit.”

“You think they will break if we seem to be a second force?” asked the captain.

“I'm hoping so. I also want you away from me, just in case…”

“That will not happen, but I will be certain few escape.” Hryessa's smile was hard.

As Hryessa turned and guided her mount toward the rear of the Westwind forces, Saryn had to wonder, not exactly for the first time, just what the captain had endured before coming to the Roof of the World.

The combined Westwind and Lornian forces and the supply wagons were well out of sight in less than a quarter glass, and the only riders who remained on the river road were those of third squad, all recent recruits and trainees, except for Rydala. But that was why Saryn had chosen third squad. First and fourth squads would have to spearhead the attack, and the Lornians would take casualties in dealing with stragglers and the general melee.

Saryn had gone over her battle plan with her squad leaders until they understood exactly what she wanted. In the simplest terms, the Westwind force would angle through the lead company behind a narrow chaos-blade, then swing back to head through the second company behind a second swath of chaos. After that…they might try a third one, or swing back and reinforce the Lornians. That assumed, as always, that Saryn could make it work.

A good half glass passed under a sun hotter than Saryn liked. The hill itself held only a few bushes and was mostly covered in browned wild grasses and weeds, although the west side backed up to grasslands that looked more hospitable.

“We cannot see the road from here. Do you expect to hear them from a greater distance than one can see?” asked Maerkyn.

Saryn waited on the gelding, behind the crest of the hill, with Maerkyn to her left and Zeldyan beyond her. From where she was, a ride of less than five yards would bring her to where she could. “I know where they are. Just a trace beyond a kay away. They've caught sight of third squad, and Rydala is acting confused, having her squad mill around for a bit…”

“Your guards don't mill,” Maerkyn said.

“That's true, but you're one of the few Lornian officers alive who knows that.” Saryn paused, then added, “They've decided to pick up their pace a bit, but they're being cautious.”

She could sense the van company picking up speed and trying to catch the apparently slower and tired guards, and she began to weave together the order and chaos flows she would need before that long.

“Stand by!” she called to Maerkyn. “They're almost in position.”

She could sense the undercaptain's shrug…and fatalism. She ignored both and raised her voice. “Westwind! Squads one and four! On me!” Then she urged the gelding up over the last part of the hillcrest and down through the knee-high browning grass that crackled with each hoof that struck it. As she came down over the rise, a quick glance confirmed that the lead riders were in blue-and-gray livery—the colors of Lord Jaffrayt—one of those who had declared rebellion. The riders on the road looked up as the guards poured over the eastern side of the dusty hill. The immediate effect of the charge was to slow the riders in the van more than those in the rear.

Saryn loosed her first short sword at close to sixty yards, but with a far narrower chaos-blade. Even so, it sliced through the heart of the entire first company. Saryn forced herself to ignore the screams and the dark voids of death that assaulted her as she drew the second blade and rode through the tunnel of death and destruction she had created and onto the wide east shoulder of the river road.

The company that followed the first one wore orange tunics trimmed in black. They did not hesitate even after seeing the carnage on the road before them, but charged toward Saryn even before she could swing her mount back to the left…and before she had fully gathered and smoothed all the order and chaos into a flow that she could link to the short sword.

Saryn was almost on top of the first rank—or they were nearly on top of her—before she could release the blade. While that cleared a bit of a path, she had to struggle to get her third blade out of the knee sheath, barely in time to parry the all-too-large blade of an armsman who charged in at her from the left, from just beyond the too-narrow wedge of destruction she had flung.

She managed to keep moving and deliver a back-cut, enough to get clear and begin to create a third chaos-and-order-flow knife. The riders in the third company—also in orange and black—had slowed somewhat, and that gave Saryn a few moments more as she found herself on the west side of the road. She turned the chestnut back toward the road and urged him forward toward the third company.

Since so far as she could see, there was not another company behind the third one but only some scattered riders with wagons and pack animals, she widened the chaos-blade slightly before releasing the short sword and drawing her last blade.

A wider swath of armsmen and their mounts fell before her, and were scattered by the forces she had wielded. Then, lightknives and unseen hammers pounded her eyes and her skull, but not quite fiercely enough to immobilize her, as she turned the gelding back toward the rear of the third company.

How she looked, she had no idea, but when she rode toward the disoriented rebel Lornian armsmen at the rear, they all turned their mounts and scattered away from her.

From that moment on, the resistance of the rebels seemed largely to melt away, although some individual armsmen held on, swinging their huge blades until one guard or another wore them down. Before all that long, Saryn reined up and surveyed the area, through vision intermittently blurred by lightknives.