Magi'i of Cyador

LXXXIX

“SER?”

Lorn glances up from the papers on his table desk, papers covered with lines and angles and distances-and the roughscrawled shape of a fallen tree … and a set of double lines that represent the northeast ward-wall.

“Yes, Kusyl?”

“The replacement lancers just rode in, ser. There’s someone to see you, ser.”

“Have him come in.”

“Yes, ser.”

The tall and broad-shouldered lancer with the single stripe of a junior squad leader on his sleeve steps into the inner study. “Squad Leader Shynt, ser. Reporting, ser, as junior squad leader to the Second Company.” The swarthy and black-haired Shynt utters the words as though they were a sentence to death or exile, his baritone voice bleak and without emotion.

“Close the door and sit down, Shynt.” Lorn gestures to the chair across from him and carefully stacks the papers, then replaces the pen in its holder.

“Yes, ser.”

Shynt sits lance-straight on the edge of the armless chair across from Lorn.

“Black angels only know what you’ve been told about Second Company, Shynt.” Lorn’s voice is conversational. “Would you care to share any of that, or would you prefer I guess?”

“Ser … I’ve been told nothing.” Shynt’s voice remains bleak.

Lorn ignores the lie, then tilts his head to the side slightly. “You are a very good squad leader, and you also dislike incompetent captains. You aren’t good at concealing that fact, and as soon as the opening for a squad leader here appeared, you were selected.”

“Ser?” For the first time, Shynt’s voice loses its almost brittle edge.

“You were doubtless allowed to learn-and someone will ensure you hear it if you haven’t already-that I’d managed to lose the most experienced squad leader in all of the Forest patrol companies through a totally avoidable mistake. Then, I’m sure through overhearing and ‘accident,’ you were allowed to discover that more Forest outbreaks occur along the northeast wall than along any ward-wall, and that Commander Meylyd and others are most concerned about that and about Second Company. Finally, someone suggested, most indirectly, that only you could put it right, leaving matters to your own initiative.”

Shynt remains rigid in the chair, as if he dares not speak. “You also probably escorted the most inept group of replacement lancers you have ever seen, and have just discovered that they won’t bring either squad up to more than three-quarter strength.”

When Lorn stops talking, silence is the only response.

“And now you don’t know what to say,” Lorn laughs softly, ironically, but Shynt remains immobile. “That’s because most or all of what I’ve said appears true to you, and because you know you can’t lie convincingly, which is why you were picked for this impossible duty assignment.” He pauses. “Except it’s not impossible. Only Majer Maran believes it’s impossible, because he believes concealment and evasion are stronger than truth.” Lorn’s amber eyes lock on Shynt’s black ones. “Tell me, squad leader Shynt, are you, strong enough to deal with truth?”

“Yes, ser.” Shynt’s tone is close to defiant.

“Good. Before you leave the outer office, before you do anything, you will read all the patrol reports for the last five years, and you will tally up all the fallen tree trunks encounteredby Second Company under each of its captains. You will also tally the casualties by year under each captain. You may ask senior squad leader Kusyl any questions you wish, and I suggest you do. Then, you will come back into my office and report what you have discovered. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ser.” An edge of bewilderment colors the squad leader’s voice.

“Good.” Lorn stands. “I will be here as long as it takes you. But, since we’d both like to eat, I suggest you set to it.” He bends and lifts the unlocked foot chest, setting it on the side of the table desk. “You may read anything else in here as well, if you think it will help your understanding.”

“Yes, ser.”

Shynt takes the chest carefully, and Lorn opens the door to the outer study for him, then closes it and returns to the diagrams and calculations on the papers that he unstacks and spreads once more before him.

It is late afternoon before there is a thrap on the door, although at times Lorn has heard voices, often intense, if whispered, as though Lorn might have been listening.

“Come in,” Lorn says, restacking the tactics sheets, with which he thinks he has reached a solution.

“Ser?” Shynt stands in the doorway with the foot chest in his arms. “Might I return this?”

“Come on in and close the door. Set it on the floor against the wall there.”

Shynt deposits the foot chest carefully, then straightens. “Ser … I apologize.”

“Accepted, without reservation. Now … sit down and tell me what you discovered.” Lorn gestures to the armless chair.

“Ser …” After he seats himself, Shynt raises a single sheet of paper. “I could tell you the numbers, but you know them. Else you would not have asked. You had a few more casualties in your first season than the other captains. Your-Second Company had close to four-fold the number of fallen trunks. You have continued to encounter more fallen trunks, but your casualties for the past two seasons are less than any other captain’s in a season.”

Lorn nods. “Do you see why I wanted you to read those reports?”

“Yes, ser.”

“Did you talk to Kusyl?”

“Yes, ser.”

Lorn nods.

Shynt looks down, then the black eyes meet Lorn’s. “Ser … it be not my province to ask ….”

“But you’d feel more comfortable knowing what you stepped into and how it happened?”

“Yes, ser.”

“That’s understandable.” Lorn fingers his chin, leaning back slightly in his chair. “I am not certain that there is a simple answer. I’ll try. When the large trees fall, they create a breach in the ward-wall. With each breach, Accursed Forest creatures wait for lancers to arrive. We don’t know why this is so, and it is not written down anywhere, but it happens. The more trees that fall, the more attacks on lancers, and if the lancers are not very careful and very good, the more creatures that escape to attack the people and herds and flocks beyond the deadland.” Lorn smiles. “There is nothing new about that. But … you know there are only so many chaos towers that charge our firelances and that not every person makes a good lancer?”

“Yes, ser.”

“And you have heard that the barbarians to the north are mounting more attacks every year.”

Shynt nods.

“If the Mirror Lancers do not provide more lancers in the north, then the Emperor will not be able to protect his people from the barbarians. If there are more lancers in the north, but not that many more lancers in all the Mirror Lancers …” Lorn waits.

“There must be fewer lancers here.”

“And you have seen that this is true,” Lorn concludes. “But if we have fewer lancers, and more trees falling, what will happen here in Jakaafra?”

“Second Company must face more wild creatures withfewer lancers … and there is the possibility that more will escape?”

Lorn nods. “Let us say that one giant cat escapes-just one-for every tenth tree-fall. If three tree-falls occur in a season, how many cats will escape over the year?”

“One … three over two years.”

“Now … what happens when a company faces twentyfour tree falls in not quite three seasons?” Lorn answers the question before Shynt can. “You would have six giant cats loose.” He smiles crookedly. “I suggested such to Commander Meylyd in requesting a full replacement complement. It was not well-received.” Lorn shrugs. “We have done better than that-with only three giant cats loose, as I recall, but there have also been more than a few night leopards that escaped.

“I have changed the Patrol procedures slightly. We do not send a messenger for the Mirror Engineers until after we have been attacked by Forest creatures. We move toward the crown of the tree from the perimeter road, with two squads flanking it at a half-square angle, and we use but short bursts on the firelances.”

“Such procedures have worked. Your casualties have been reduced.”

Lorn nods. “I have been strongly requested to return to ‘traditional’ lancer patrol techniques, but I have been also ordered not to allow any wild creatures to escape.” A crooked smile follows. “Squad leader Olisenn was most committed to traditional procedures, and I fear that his inability to adapt to the new procedures may have contributed to his ending up in the line of a firelance. I do not know that, but that is all I can surmise.”

Shynt nods slowly. “If I might ask, ser … what patrol tactics will you adopt?”

Lorn grins. “I am informing Majer Maran that I am abandoning those procedures about which he and Commander Meylyd had expressed concern and that Second Company intends to do its utmost to stop any wild creatures from escaping the deadland.”

Shynt almost smiles. “Ah … I see.”

“Then we will see.” Lorn looks at the black-eyed squad leader. “So long as no creatures escape and I do not disobey any direct orders, we will doubtless hear little.”

Shynt nods. “Thank you, ser.”

Lorn stands. “I’m glad you’re here. Kusyl will introduce you to First Squad, and I’ll ride mostly with you on patrols to begin with, until we’re comfortable.”

As Kusyl leaves with the junior squad leader, Lorn closes the door, then turns. He looks out the study window at the gray clouds that will become more prevalent as winter nears, recalling the lines from the poem in the silver-covered book.

Provisions must be made.

Lorn has made them.