Arms-Commander

LIII

The next oneday found Saryn, Zeldyan, and their armsmen and guards riding northeast through woods on a hilly and winding muddy clay road that was little more than a lane. Three days of solid riding through light and drizzling warm rains had left Saryn feeling thoroughly wet everywhere although the rain had stopped for the moment. The damp heat hadn’t seemed to bother Zeldyan nearly so much, unsurprisingly. When Saryn had ridden out of Quaryn on sixday, she had been genuinely sad to leave the one place she had visited thus far in Lornth where she had felt welcome…and even valued.

Saryn looked to the Lady Regent riding beside her. “Tell me again that Palteara isn’t that far out of the way.”

“It isn’t,” replied Zeldyan. “If we were riding directly to Lyntara and Lord Deolyn…now that would be a ride. But we only add two days this way, and Lord Spalkyn can meet you. Besides, it is a pleasant ride.”

Pleasant had different meanings for different people, Saryn reflected, brushing away another of the voracious biting flies that the forest harbored-and which seemed to prefer Saryn to all the other riders. She glanced up at the gray clouds above the trees. Were they thinning? She wasn’t certain how much of a blessing a clear sky would be, not with all the moisture in the air and on the ground and vegetation. “I’d just get steamed faster,” she murmured under her breath.

“You should try it in the winter…” Zeldyan broke off her words, laughing. “I tend to forget. You know far more of cold and winters than any of us.”

After they rode up another wooded hill, only to see more of the same ahead, Saryn turned to Zeldyan. “Is it wooded all the way to Lord Spalkyn’s?”

“No. I’d judge we’ll be out of the woods and hills by a bit after midday.”

Saryn could sense people in huts down side lanes in the woods, and there were cart and wagon tracks on the road, and hoofprints as well, yet they never saw anyone on the roads. Was it habit for the locals to avoid large parties of riders? What did that say about Lornth?

Just as Zeldyan had predicted, less than a half glass after midday, they rode up a long slope and at the top of the ridge, the mix of deciduous and coniferous trees grave way to a plateau of slightly rolling fields and pastures, with an occasional lines of trees that had to be orchards.

“If I recall correctly,” the regent announced, “Spalkyn’s holding is another glass ahead on a low rise to the north of the road. He holds most of the highlands here.”

“We’re not all that far from Suthya, then?”

“We’re not that far from the lands Suthya stole from Lornth,” replied Zeldyan. “They don’t really even control them. Spalkyn and Deolyn have both had difficulties with raiders. The Suthyans just burned out our lord-holders, and now they collect tariffs from the people, and buy what they can as cheaply as possible and sell what people need as dearly as they can.”

Feudalistic mercantilism, thought Saryn. “I can see why Lord Sillek wanted to retake Rulyarth.”

“His aims were superior to his means, and Lady Elindyja was less than helpful. Had she supported his efforts in dealing with Rulyarth and not insisted on revenge against Westwind, we would be in a far better situation.”

“What happened to her?”

“She died a bitter woman the year before last. It would have been better had her death occurred far sooner.”

Even Saryn was surprised at the hatred and anger that lay behind the mild words, but she managed to reply. “Revenge for the mere sake of revenge seldom accomplishes anything.”

“Too many in Lornth are so obsessed with honor and revenge that little gets accomplished.”

“Too many men, you mean?” asked Saryn.

“Since women seldom count, who else?”

There wasn’t much Saryn could say to that. She just continued to ride beside the regent as they continued across the rolling lands of the plateau that Zeldyan had called highlands, a term Saryn wouldn’t even have considered attaching to the lands. Another half glass passed before they caught the first glimpse of Palteara.

Even from a kay away, Saryn could see how the location of Spalkyn’s lands had affected the holding proper, which was truly a hold. A wall a good fifteen cubits high circled the ground below the knoll, and two low towers framed the single gate. All the stones were a dull gray and brown. The lowest level of the mansion set on the flattened top of the knoll had no windows and only a single door. Although there were terraces on the upper levels, they were bordered by stone walls that looked to be chest high, and the second-level windows were narrow. Not until the third level were there wide and spacious windows. Although the complex wasn’t laid out to withstand a prolonged siege, it was clearly strong enough to withstand and hold off raiders or marauders and anything short of an army.

The heavy wooden gates swung open as Zeldyan and Saryn rode closer, presumably in response to the regent’s banner, but Saryn saw only a pair of guards, both of them very young, as they rode in.

“Lady Spalkyn awaits you at the house, Lady Regent,” called one.

Once the entire column was inside the wall, the gates swung closed with a heavy thunk. The paved lane did not run directly up the center of the knoll but along the right side and climbed more gradually past the mansion to another gate in the wall of the courtyard to the rear of the structure. The courtyard gate was open.

A dark-haired woman stood behind the wall on the second-level balcony. When Zeldyan reined up, she called out, “Lady Regent! I was so glad to get your message and to see you here.”

Saryn sensed both distress and hopefulness behind Lady Spalkyn’s words.

“Maerila, what is it?”

“Marauders…more than a score of them. They started burning houses and barns near Tearan last night. Spalkyn rode out with every man he could raise early this morning, right after he found out.” For the first time, Maerila’s eyes took in Saryn and the Westwind guards. “They’re…women. I’d hoped…”

“Maerila,” said Zeldyan firmly, “they’re Westwind guards-the ones from the Roof of the World. They came to help me. They can certainly help Spalkyn.”

“They’re the ones…oh…oh…”

“How far is Tearan?” asked Saryn. There’s no point in fluttering around if Spalkyn truly needs help.

“Ten kays or so to the northeast,” answered Maerila.

Saryn looked at Zeldyan. “We’d better head there now. You and your armsmen can guard the holding. There’s no one else to do it. The raid could be a feint to draw defenders from here.”

“Spalkyn said that was possible,” offered Maerila, “but he said he couldn’t leave the crofters to face them alone. He needed every man.”

“How many did he take?” asked Saryn.

“He had a score, maybe a few more.”

That was all he could raise?

“You should take a few of my armsmen and my banner,” Zeldyan insisted. “Otherwise, both sides might end up attacking you.”

“Just a few.” Saryn looked up to Lady Spalkyn. “Do you have someone you could spare to be a guide? That way we can be certain of getting there sooner. We will need to give the horses a breather before we set out, though.”

“Wualaf knows the lands as well as anyone. He can’t help much in a fight, but he can ride with the best.”

“We need a guide. We’ll take care of the fighting.” Saryn just hoped that there weren’t hundreds of marauders rather than scores. “Where can we water the horses?”

“The fountain and water troughs are straight back, beside the stables. Do you need food or grain?”

“Some of each, if you can spare it and find it quickly,” replied Saryn, wondering exactly what she’d let herself and the guards in for…and hoping that the results would be worth it-and not too costly.