Cyador’s Heirs

LXIV

Lerial did not even recall Nevnarnia from the time when he and Altyrn and the two Mirror Lancers squads had ridden through it on their way from Escadya, and his first glimpse of it at around midday, coming from the south, tells him why.

“The main road doesn’t even pass through the hamlet,” he observes to Altyrn as they turn up a side road, certainly almost as wide as the route they have been following.

“Don’t you imagine there is a reason for that?”

“What? That they aren’t a trading town, or interested in that?”

“That would be my guess.”

“You don’t think the Meroweyans will just march by, then?” Lerial tries to inject a bit of levity into his voice.

“Ignore the first hamlet or town inside the Verd after losing hundreds of men?”

Lerial frowns, realizing that might well be what his father might do … but not if all the inhabitants had fought against him. But then, he wouldn’t have invaded if all the people were opposed to his being their ruler.

“You don’t think so?” asks Altyrn.

“No. I agree. I was just thinking that it seems a bad idea to invade another land if it hasn’t attacked you and the people don’t want you.”

“It usually is,” replies the majer. “But Casseon thinks the Verd is his land, and the people don’t. Most rulers don’t take to that. Would you?”

“I suppose not … but I think I’d try not to get into that position.”

“What if a people believed in everything you hate, that they all wanted to kill every black ordermage who was anything more than a healer on sight, that they put anyone who didn’t pay the slightest debt in chains for life and made them work in quarries or on building roads for the rest of their life, and that they used chaos-fire to destroy anyone who might be a magus if he didn’t serve the ruler with absolute loyalty?”

“I don’t think there could be a land like that, could there?”

“You never know,” replies Altyrn dryly. “In your father’s position, what would you do?”

“Avoid dealing with that land. I can’t see any good coming of fighting it-unless they attacked first.”

“And if they did?”

Lerial sighs. “I suppose I’d have to be ruthless to protect my own people.”

“And how would that make you different from the ruler of that land?”

Lerial doesn’t want to answer that question. Instead, he glances skyward, into a sky that has become almost completely cloudless, with a light and warm breeze coming out of the north.

Altyrn laughs. “Be careful of simple answers, Lerial. Nothing … nothing for a ruler or those who serve him is simple.”

At that point, Lerial sees ahead, on both sides of the road, where the Verdyn Lancers are setting up another camp.

“We’re taking a position on the south side of the town,” Altyrn says. “That way, we can take the lanes north and use a back road to return to the main road, if necessary. Along the main roads are where we have to fight. They intend to follow this main road all the way to Verdell.”

“You know that?”

“If you don’t take the main city of a land, you haven’t won. Would anyone think that they had conquered your father’s lands without taking Cigoerne proper?”

“But…” Lerial pauses and then goes on, “just because someone takes the capital city or palace doesn’t mean they’ve been successful. Not if that’s all they hold.”

“You’re right about that.” Altyrn smiles. “I need to think more about tomorrow. If you’ll pledge not to use order-skills in fighting, I’ll return you to command. Can you do that?”

Lerial has to think about that. Not to use … But Altyrn has so few experienced officers, and it’s incredible that Lerial has more experience than most. Finally, he nods. “Yes, ser.”

“I’m glad you actually took a moment or two to think about it,” say Altyrn dryly. “Once you’ve seen to your company, take a little time and ride through Nevnarnia. It always helps to know where you may be fighting. Look for places and positions that will give you an advantage. We may not get that chance, but it’s better to be overprepared than not prepared because you didn’t think you’d have that opportunity.” Altyrn grins. “Besides, it’s good practice, and you need as much of that as you can get.”

Lerial cannot dispute the majer’s words, and it only takes Lerial a little while, less than a tenth of a glass, to find second company, possibly because his men are setting up close to the east side of the road that leads to Nevnarnia. He reins up short of Korlyn.

“You back, ser?” asks the first squad leader.

“I’m back,” confirms Lerial. “But I won’t be able to protect anyone from firebolts for a while. We’ll have to avoid them by not being where they hit.”

“Yes, ser.” Korlyn’s smile still seems to reflect relief, as if he definitely prefers Lerial to be in command.

After speaking with Korlyn, Lerial also meets with each squad leader. He cannot help but notice that Alaynara watches him and Moraris closely.

When he has finished with the squad leaders, he rides north to inspect and study the hamlet. The first dwellings in the Nevnarnia proper are less than four hundred yards from the Lancer encampment, and as Lerial rides closer he finds that the road splits into three forks. He takes the westernmost one that curves into a lane parallel to two others. He can see that hamlet is certainly modest, with perhaps fifty to sixty dwellings spaced carefully along the three narrow lanes. Lines of tall trees run between the houses set back to back on the lanes. As in the other towns he has observed, all the dwellings have plank siding and wooden shake roofs, with sturdy stone chimneys. Most of the dwellings are shuttered. That scarcely surprises Lerial. Outside of the dwellings themselves, he sees no places that would shelter or offer any real cover to mounted Lancers-except in the woods to the west of the hamlet. Nor does he discover any ditches or depressions that would hamper a mounted charge or a foot advance.

As Lerial nears the far end of the lane, or rather, the point where it curves eastward, he sees another small Kaordist temple. He reins up and studies the twin-spired structure with the one spire curved and rounded and somehow off-center and the other spire clean and straight.

Can one really call chaos feminine and order male? From what Lerial has seen of life, little as it may be compared to someone like the majer, men are the ones who are more chaotic. But then, in most places, men make the rules, and it’s hard to argue with that. Just like it’s hard to argue with his father, the majer … or even Lephi.

He continues onward, making his way down the middle lane, in the center of which are some shops and a small building that looks as though it is similar to a chandlery. There are a few people on the lanes, less than a handful.

Near the northern end of the last lane on the east, or rather where it joins the curved extensions of the other lanes, and the combined road curves due east, most likely heading back to the main road to Escadya and, beyond there, to Verdell, just short of the last dwelling on the east side of the lane, he sees a man with a ladder. The man sets the ladder down and turns away from Lerial to talk to the woman who is following him. Neither is looking in Lerial’s direction.

Lerial definitely wants to know what they’re talking about, especially since the few others he has seen have hurried on without looking at him..

Can you raise a very small concealment? He decides to try, perhaps almost a blurring rather than a full concealment. He does not feel light-headed or dizzy and lets the gelding carry him slowly toward the couple, easing to a stop when he can hear their voices.

“If you’re staying to fight the Meroweyans, so am I,” declares the muscular, graying woman.

“You don’t know one end of a sword from the other,” declares the stout and half-bald older man in brown.

“Neither do you. Besides, you don’t have a sword.”

“I’ve got my bow and a score of good shafts.”

“I have mine, and just as many shafts. And I’m a better archer. You know that in your heart, Kaleb.”

“You’re a stubborn woman, Yasnela.”

“Wasn’t that what led you to consort me? Least, that’s what you always said.” The woman puts her hand on her consort’s arm. “Together, we’ve got twice as many arrows.”

“Still say you’re a stubborn woman.”

“We’re going to lose everything, no matter what. You know that. We don’t do what we can, each of us, everyone’s going to lose everything. No sense in asking why it falls to us. It does, and that’s that. Now … we’ll go back to the house and plan this out sensible like.”

Lerial does not move as the two turn and walk toward the small brick dwelling, the last one on the lane, away from him. He drops the concealment and smiles because he only feels slightly tired … and that might just be because he has had a long day. At least, that’s what you hope.

He turns the gelding and starts his return south, riding back toward what is likely to be a very temporary camp, his smile vanishing as he thinks over the words of the couple, years older than even his own parents. He smiles wryly as he thinks that, in a way, in their own way, his parents are doing the same thing as the older couple he has overheard.