Arms-Commander

Lornth
XLII

Saryn had started down the steps to the main hall before dawn on eightday, when she heard Ryba’s voice from above her on the stone staircase. “Saryn…I’d like a word with you…”

Saryn headed up to the top level of Tower Black, where Ryba waited, fully dressed.

“Come in and close the door.”

Saryn did so. Ryba stood by the circular table and looked at Saryn. “I have not said too much to you about what you must do in Lornth. That is because I do not know so much as I would like. I cannot tell you how vital it is that you do not hazard yourself unnecessarily. You can sacrifice guards if you must, but without you, Westwind will have nothing.” Ryba’s lips quirked into an ironic grin. “Needless to say, such an unnecessary sacrifice would not benefit you, either. One way or another, Lornth will not survive in its present form. The old lord-holders who will not abandon their male-only traditions will have to be crushed, or they will destroy the regency. The regency may not last in any case, but whoever or what ever rules Lornth must not include the tradition-bound holders, or we will be at war within a handful of years.”

“Even with the devastation there, and what is likely to come?”

“If they survive, they will seek to blame us and plunder Westwind for what crumbs they can find. We do not need another war.”

“So…you’re sending me as much for Westwind as because I pledged.”

“More for Westwind. I respect your honor, but my goal has always been to change Candar so that there are places where women have at least equal rights and power compared to men. Without Westwind and what you must do, that cannot happen.”

Ryba’s words scarcely surprised Saryn. “I think I always knew that.”

There was a moment of silence before Ryba spoke again. “Saryn…no matter what you think, I do wish the best for you.”

Those words and, even more, the clear feeling of truth behind them did surprise Saryn. “Thank you.”

“You’d best get something to eat. You have a long journey ahead of you.” Ryba paused. “One last thing, and it is advice you will not like. To succeed you will need to be more ruthless than any man, for only then will they respect you.”

“I hope it does not come to that.”

“It will. It always does.” Ryba stepped forward and opened the door.

Saryn nodded, then departed, heading down to the main hall to eat.

Less than a glass later, she was mounted and at the head of her small force, reined up on the road outside Tower Black where it met the causeway.

“Is everything set?” Saryn looked to Hryessa.

While Saryn would have liked to have checked every guard’s gear personally, she knew that doing so would have undermined her subordinate-unnecessarily, since Hryessa was every bit as meticulous as Saryn herself. The arms-commander glanced back at the wagons waiting behind fourth squad. Both were in far better condition than when she had brought them back to Westwind, as were the two drays pulling them.

“Yes, ser. We’re ready to head out. We made the transfers you approved for the two with small children, and that took care of anyone who shouldn’t really be going to Lornth.”

Saryn nodded. She’d told the guard captain that they might end up stuck in Lornth over the winter if things did not go well. “How does Daryn feel about your going to Lornth?”

“He hasn’t said. He doesn’t have to. He doesn’t like it. I can tell.” Hryessa shrugged. “I told him you needed me, and the Marshal said so. That means he has to stay and take care of Elaya and Ryntyr. He’s good with them. That’s not a problem. He’s tended some of the other young ones, too, when it was necessary. He’s a good man.”

Saryn looked across the causeway. Standing just outside the door to Tower Black was a small group of people, among them Daryn and Hryessa’s son and daughter, and four other familiar figures-the three silver-haired girls and Dealdron. Ryba was not among those seeing the detachment off, but Saryn would not have expected that of the Marshal.

Elaya and Ryntyr waved to their mother, and Hryessa blew them each a kiss, then flicked the reins of her mount. “Company! Forward!”

Saryn took a last glance at Tower Black and the handful of people standing before it on the causeway.

Dealdron looked at Saryn, his gaze steady, but she could not sense what lay behind his eyes, only that it was not hatred or anything like it. Wistfulness? Why would he be wistful? She offered a pleasant smile, then eased the chestnut gelding forward, wondering how long it might be before she saw the tower again.