Magi'i of Cyador

CXIII

SITTING BEHIND HIS study desk, Lorn looks at the pen holder, and then at the open window, and the low clouds that promise rain that has not yet arrived. Second Company has completed another full patrol, encountering only shoots from seeds, and Lorn must write another patrol report, and a summary,and decide whether to again request replacement lancers-and sit and wait to see how Commander Meylyd will react to Maran’s disappearance.

Finally, Lorn picks up the pen and begins to detail the last report. He has barely written three lines when Kusyl steps into the study.

“Yes?”

“Ser! There’s a firewagon here, and Commander Meylyd. He’s coming this way.”

Lorn finds a sardonic smile on his lips. “Perhaps he will tell us about our replacement lancers, then.”

“Ser?”

Lorn shakes his head, standing quickly.

At the sound of voices, Kusyl steps back and holds the door to the inner study as the Commander enters, followed by a smaller officer, an overcaptain. The squad leader closes it gently but firmly as he leaves.

Meylyd does not take a chair, but addresses Lorn directly. “Captain … I am sure you know why I am here. This is Overcaptain Hybyl. He was Majer Maran’s deputy.”

Behind two officers, Kusyl opens the door and slides in a chair and then silently closes the door once more.

“I am afraid I do not.” Lorn offers a polite but confused expression. “I must admit I cannot honestly say I know why you are here, saving for my continual requests for replacement lancers.”

“You cannot say?” Meylyd now offers a quizzical expression. “Majer Maran indicated he was not pleased with you before he left. And you pretend you don’t know that? When he disappeared immediately after meeting with you? At a meeting outside the compound where no one but you two happened to be present?”

“No, ser. I knew that the majer was displeased. He took me for a quiet ride, where none would hear, he said. And he told me that while you were pleased with my results in containing the wild creatures, he was not happy with the strategies I had adopted. He said they were against patrol doctrine.”

Hybyl nods. “He reported such before he departed Geliendra.”

“For the record, Captain, with exactly what tactic was Majer Maran displeased?” asks Meylyd.

“My using myself as a target and carrying two firelances.” Lorn shrugs. “There isn’t anything against it in the manual, and since we’re understrength, I didn’t think one extra firelance would be a problem-at the time, that was still something like fifteen less than full complement, and it left the extra in the hands of an officer.”

Another puzzled look passes between the two officers.

“Now, we have but half the requisite complement, and I had thought you might be here to discuss my requests for replacements.” Lorn gestures to the single chair. “Ah, ser … if you’d like a seat?”

The Commander takes the chair Kusyl had shoved into the room, and Hybyl takes the armless one before the desk.

Lorn seats himself slowly, after the other two, waiting.

“Now, if you would continue, Captain … With an account of your meeting with Majer Maran,” commands Meylyd.

“I don’t know that there’s that much more to say, ser. Majer Maran told me to use standard patrol tactics, and he said that I needed to contain the wild creatures without wasting chaos charges. He said that you expected I follow standard procedures. I told him what I just told you, and he said that sometimes junior officers needed to understand that not all accepted procedures were written out. He made that very clear. I told him I’d give up the extra firelance … if that would help.”

“And?”

“He got very polite, ser. He said that I was not quite hopeless and that I had better act like every other captain, and that he would be watching me closely. Except that he said all of that much more politely and indirectly, and very pleasantly.” Lorn shrugs. “I could not begin to repeat the way he said things.”

A faint smile crosses Hybyl’s lips.

“And what did you do after your ride?” asks Meylyd.

“I came back here. He said he needed a moment, and that he’d be back in a bit. I kept looking for him, but he didn’t come back. I’d thought at first he’d decided to ride to Westend, but when his lancers came back and said he hadn’t, we all went looking. We found his mount some three kays from where I left him, but we didn’t find him. We didn’t find any boot tracks either. You know that, I think, from the report I sent.”

“I think we’ll talk to your men, if you don’t mind, Captain. I’d appreciate your remaining here in your study.” Meylyd rises. “Then, I’ll be back to talk to you.”

Lorn stands. “Yes, ser. They’ll tell you everything they know.”

“I’m most certain that they will.” Meylyd smiles coldly.

Hybyl does not smile at all as the two leave.

After a long moment, Lorn shrugs and sits down. While it may make no difference, he returns to drafting the last patrol report.

He has long since finished it, and trusting that his analysis of the commander’s position is correct, grateful that, if his decision of how to deal with Maran was wrong, at least, the results will not directly affect Ryalth. As he is looking out his open window at the clouds that have gotten ever darker as the morning has turned into afternoon, he turns at the sound of voices and is standing behind his desk when Meylyd and Hybyl step back into the study.

Hybyl closes the door.

Meylyd motions for Lorn to sit down, then takes the larger chair and seats himself.

Both officers from Geliendra glance at the closed door.

“Everything appears as you have said, captain,” Meylyd begins. “And all the men are telling the truth. That presents a puzzle. Majer Maran was most capable. So, clearly, are you. Yet the majer had no reason to disappear, and you were the last to see him.”

Lorn waits.

“Do you have anything to say about this?”

“Nothing I haven’t said, ser. I know the majer intended todo something as far as I was concerned, but he didn’t tell me. And he never returned to the compound.”

“His lancers found his mount.”

“Yes, ser. I was with them. So was squad leader Shynt.”

Meylyd glances at the overcaptain. “If you would go, Hybyl, and make sure the outer study is empty, and stays that way.”

“Yes, ser.”

Meylyd studies Lorn as he waits for the two doors to close. His mouth smiles before he speaks, but his eyes are cold. “We have a difficult situation. On the one hand, there is a lancer captain who is holding the most difficult stretch of the ward-wall. He tends to, shall we say, use lancer techniques in a somewhat different manner. But his results are good, and all the local … eminences … are pleased. On the other hand, we have a distinguished lancer majer who is most concerned about the ward-wall and the captain. The two meet; the captain returns; the majer rides off and is never seen again. There is no evidence of anything. Even the horse tracks show that. Yes, I checked with the lancers on that. The two men rode together; they sat mounted and talked. One of them dismounted and walked and then remounted, and they rode southwest for a time and then they parted. And the majer vanished from his mount. Was he plucked from it by something from the Accursed Forest?” Meylyd shrugs.

Lorn remains silent, waiting.

“I asked for guidance from the Majer-Commander. I was told that it was best that I not act unless there were facts to support me. So … I guess there’s nothing more to be said, Captain.” Meylyd pauses. “It’s clear that the majer had something in mind. A pity that he didn’t tell me … or you. Whatever happened, it’s also clear that no one will ever know. Perhaps it’s better that way.” Meylyd looks out the study window for a long moment, as if considering whether he should say more, before turning back to Lorn. “I do expect you to follow the guidelines he laid out, to the very letter. Overcaptain Hybyl will be taking the majer’s place. He’ll be promoted to sub-majer shortly, and you’ll send your reportsto him. I cannot stress how accurate I expect those reports to be.”

“Yes, ser.”

“And, Captain, Majer Maran was very capable. I hope you understand that.”

“Yes, ser.”

“I intend to hold you to those standards.” Meylyd rises. “And, to ensure that there are no more deviations from lancer tactics, your replacements will arrive within the next few days. They are on their way from Westend.”

“Yes, ser. I understand, ser.”

Meylyd nods coldly. “Good day, Captain.” After a last cold stare, he turns and walks out, leaving both doors open.

Lorn wonders if the Majer-Commander of lancers really had been consulted, and if so, why?

Still, for the moment, there will be replacement lancers, even if every one has been ordered to report anything strange that Lorn does.

Lorn takes a deep breath.

Outside, a warm drizzle has begun to fall.