Arms-Commander

LVI

Neither Zeldyan nor Saryn wished to impose unduly on Lord Spalkyn, but it was still fiveday morning before Saryn felt the guards-and their mounts-were ready to ride. Part of her caution lay in her concern that they had not seen the last of raiders or other difficulties that might require arms, and she wanted the horses well rested. Although they mustered the guards and armsmen at a glass past dawn, Spalkyn, Maerila, and the twins were all on the terrace, watching to see them off. Both twins waved, enthusiastically, while the lord and lady watched quietly.

As they rode down to the main gate, Zeldyan turned in the saddle, and said to Saryn, “You’ve won over Spalkyn…and Maerila, and that’s not easy. I should take you everywhere.”

“So I can terrify the bullies and reason with those who think?” retorted Saryn with a laugh.

“Over the years, I’ve heard of worse approaches,” replied Zeldyan with a smile.

“It doesn’t seem to work with people like Keistyn and Henstrenn…or Kelthyn.”

“Even past experience with force doesn’t work with some. Did Arthanos learn anything from Gallos’s past dealings with Westwind?”

“He didn’t seem to.” Much as she knew that Zeldyan’s words were true, that truth still depressed Saryn. Why were there those who would not stop until they were destroyed? Was it just that they could not believe that they were mistaken…or mortal? Even Ryba worried about that, although, Saryn had to admit to herself, much of Ryba’s worry in recent years had been hedged by her tendency to put others in the front lines…or dispatch them to Lornth.

“Do you think there are not lord-holders like him here in Lornth?” Zeldyan’s voice was dry and cutting.

“I had hoped to find that most were not, but I have the feeling that all too many are.”

“As it is and will be all across Candar,” replied Zeldyan.

The mild air turned warmer and heavier with the sun, until, again, Saryn felt hot and damp all over, early as it was in the day. She tried not to think about what it would be like by mid afternoon and concentrated on watching the road ahead and trying to sense whether anyone was lurking nearby and out of sight.

They had ridden for a good glass before Saryn turned to Zeldyan, and asked, “What’s Lord Deolyn like?”

Zeldyan laughed. “Different and not predictable. That’s all I can say. Beyond that, you’ll have to make up your own mind.”

“What are his lands like?”

“They have more hills than here, and his tenants and crofters have more livestock and orchards, rather than field crops. Because it takes more land, his estates are somewhat more extensive. He has a master beekeeper and is known for his clover honey.”

Sweets…Saryn had almost forgotten what they tasted like, except for the molasses candies sometimes carried by traders, and she’d found those unsatisfying and somewhat sicky-bitter in their sweetness.

“Sillek said that half Deolyn’s golds came from the honey, and that he had to send a squad of armsmen to accompany any shipment to the river-barge piers.”

“Whose lands lie between Spalkyn’s and Deolyn’s? Will they be discomfited if you do not stop to visit them?”

“Whethryn and Chaspal. They’ll hardly be upset. Relieved, rather, I would think, because feeding and entertaining us is not uncostly…and neither has the extent of estates as do Spalkyn and Deolyn.”

“But Spalkyn…he could not afford a single squad-”

“He could have sold land, but it would have beggared his future.”

Land-poor. “How many lords face similar situations?”

“They do not tell a widow regent, Saryn, but I would judge one in three face some problems. Spalkyn’s was the worst, but Rherhn of Khalasn is not far behind.”

“That is why tariffs to the regency are not what they should be?”

“Part of the reason. It does no good to beggar a lord, especially a loyal one, and force him to sell lands to a rich lord who is less loyal.”

There was little that Saryn could say to that, although she thought that it might be better to sell lands to those who were not lords-like Jennyleu. Obviously, that wasn’t done, either for practical or legal reasons.

As she rode on, Saryn’s thoughts still drifted back to her encounter with the white mage. Although he might only have been a hedge mage, his fire-bolts had come uncomfortably close to turning Saryn and some of the guards into charred flesh and ashes. While she’d seen Nylan and even Ayrlyn create order shields, she’d tried that approach over the past few days, and it didn’t seem to work for her, possibly because neither order nor chaos seemed static to her, and it took far too much effort to try to erect any sort of barrier.

Abruptly, she tried to squash one of the biting yellow-and-black flies that seemed to pester her more than anyone else, but the fly buzzed off, circling around her head for yet another attack. She’d been able to change the junctures in rock. Were there similar junctures or nodes in the air? Ones that she could shift to create a barrier against things like pesky flies? Or at least create a bit of a targeted breeze to blow it away from her face and neck?

She glanced at the fast-moving cumulus clouds, puffy with shades of gray, moving slowly across the eastern sky, then tried to sense the flow or interplay of order and chaos within them, but they were beyond the range of her senses. What about the air around you?

She concentrated, just on feeling, sensing the air, all too quiet at the moment. There were eddies that were not exactly junctures or nodes but mixed the tiniest bits of order and chaos.

After several moments, she tried to smooth one of the eddies somewhere above her left shoulder. The eddy dissolved, and a slight puff of warm air ruffled her too-damp hair, hardly enough to push away a pesky fly, and too hot to be exactly cooling. Still…it was a beginning.

Oh well…you’ll have a few more days on the road to practice… Even with that thought, Saryn wondered if she’d ever gain a fraction of the control that she’d seen in Nylan or even in the hedge mage.