Cyador’s Heirs

Teilyn and Beyond
XXXVII

Lerial waits until the column-two squads and three wagons-is well out of Cigoerne before considering more than exchanging pleasantries and giving necessary orders to the two squad leaders. It is slightly unnerving to realize that he is officially in command, although Majer Phortyn had drawn him aside before they had departed from headquarters. The majer’s comments had been short and politely blunt.

“Lord Lerial … or Undercaptain Lerial … you’re the only officer. That puts you in command. That means the lances stowed in the wagons are your responsibility. No one will make off with those. The paychest is another matter. Don’t keep checking it. Just make sure it’s never unguarded … or that your squad leaders do. They will if you don’t get in the way. Relay all orders through your squad leaders. I suggest doing it quietly enough that they can offer advice if you’ve not thought of anything. Before you order anything else, talk to one of the squad leaders.”

“Yes, ser. In short, rely on them to keep me from making a fool out of myself.” And damaging Father’s position.

“Keep that in mind, and you’ll do fine.”

“Thank you, ser.”

Phortyn had actually smiled when he’d stepped back.

Now … some three kays south of Cigoerne, Lerial rides beside Juist. The senior of the two squad leaders is blond, and his weathered fair skin bears sun-scars, suggesting a Cyadoran heritage and giving Lerial an opening for finding out more about the squad leader.

“As I’m sure is obvious,” Lerial begins, “I’m so new to the Lancers, except for training in Teilyn and headquarters, that I don’t know anything about you or your rankers. Have there been other Lancers in your family?”

Juist laughs. “Don’t know that there’ve been other than that, among the men, that is. My da was a Lancer. He always said one of his greats, way back, had served under the great Lorn, and I was named after him. Could be a tale.” The squad leader shrugs.

“You expected to be a Lancer from the beginning, then?”

“Couldn’t see myself doing much else, ser. Not much for grubbing dirt or hewing timber. Don’t have the skill with my hands to be a crafter, and I’m not much for staying in one place.”

Lerial is certain Juist has more skills than just with a sabre, but he only says, “What’s the most important thing you tell a new man, the thing that every junior officer ought to know, the thing that’s so basic that most don’t?”

Juist looks startled. Then he laughs again, almost ruefully. “Ser…” He shakes his head before smiling. “You really want to know, ser?”

“I suspect you feel I won’t like it, but if I don’t, I should know.”

“I tell them that unless an undercaptain’s been a squad leader, he won’t know sowshit, and that they need to look to their squad leader.”

That scarcely surprises Lerial, and he nods. “About how many undercaptains are like me, that have no real experience?”

“Begging your pardon, ser, but, from what I hear, you didn’t piss in your britches when a raider charged you, and you killed the bastard. That’s more than half the undercaptains in the Lancers can say.”

Lerial isn’t surprised at that. With only fifteen companies or so, there are likely only twenty undercaptains, thirty at the outside, and half are doubtless the sons of former officers. Then there is the fact that many patrols don’t encounter raiders, especially large numbers of raiders. “That’s true, but I didn’t have to give orders. All I had to do was defend myself.”

“That’s good. Be better if all officers went through that before they give orders.”

“What else should I know?”

“You’re asking me?”

Lerial grins. “You said every ranker should look to his squad leader. The majer told me the same, that I should look to you and Kusyl.”

“Majer’s got some sense.” Juist smiles. “Appears you do, too.” He pauses. “Don’t know where to start.”

“Anywhere you want. We’ve got two days before we get to Teilyn.”

Juist is silent for a time, and Lerial wonders if he has been too direct with the weathered squad leader. Finally, the older man speaks. “Rankers don’t have to know what you have in mind. Squad leaders do. They need to know what you want done. Suggest what you think will work. See what they think…”

Lerial listens and keeps listening.

Sometime after midday, Lerial switches from riding with Juist to accompanying the other squad leader. In appearance, Kusyl is far different from Juist-black-haired, brown-eyed, with a swarthy complexion and deeply tanned skin. He is also smaller and wiry.

Lerial wonders about his background, but decides not to presume, “Might I ask how you came to be a Lancer?”

Kusyl snorts. “What else would I be, ser? Father was a Lancer … excepting he didn’t survive the mess the Accursed Forest made. Just lucky to be here. Ma was a nurse for the consort of a magus and got on the Kerial ’cause someone thought she was Magi’i, too.”

Lerial manages not to wince and wonders what he can ask next, but doesn’t have to because Kusyl keeps talking.

“… used to get mad about that … excepting that, as Ma said, we’d been dead if’n she hadn’t come. When I got older, I looked at what I could do … and when I heard they’d give preference to the sons of Lancers … well … turned out better for me than my da. Got a consort and two boys … good pay … and, begging your pardon, ser, your sire’s a Stars-better ruler than his sire…”

“So I’ve heard.” Lerial makes his comment as wryly dry as he can.

Kusyl chuckles. “Fact that he’s sending you off says a lot…”

Such as? That Father risks himself and his sons? That’s obvious, but there’s something else about what Kusyl is saying, but Lerial can’t put his finger on it. He tries to keep that in mind as he asks another question. “What do you think most junior officers forget in dealing with squad leaders?” Lerial grins and adds, “Besides the fact that the squad leaders know more than fresh undercaptains?”

Kusyl does laugh, if for a moment, before replying. “Everything takes longer. Everything. The more men you got, the longer it takes…”

From that point on, the conversation follows a line similar to the one Lerial has had with Juist. There are exceptions, and one strikes Lerial as something he never would have considered.

“No squad leader wants to worry about an officer who’s leading a charge. Same way, no squad leader likes an officer who’s so far behind that he’s not even there. Doesn’t mean there aren’t times when you shouldn’t lead. Means you shouldn’t do it much. Only when there’s no other way … or when you’ve lost the squad leader in the fight.”

By midafternoon, Lerial just hopes that he can remember a fraction of what he has heard … and that he can make sure nothing happens to the paychest. He also knows he needs to keep practicing the concealment … with enough concentration that he doesn’t inadvertently draw iron toward himself.