Magi'i of Cyador

XCV

LORN PUTS HIS saddle bags on the top of the barrel of grain set beside the gelding’s stall and carefully props the pair of firelances between the barrel and the stall wall, waiting for Suforis to finish saddling his mount.

“Be just a moment, ser,” the ostler calls.

Lorn smiles to himself, and studies the stable, still as neat and clean as ever, then runs his fingertips over one firelance and then the other, making sure that both are fully charged. Although the patrol before the last one had found a fallen tree-the one they’d had to wait two days for the Engineers to clear, the fact that there had been no fallen trees on the last patrol made it more likely that he and Second Company would encounter one on this patrol-or the next.

“We’d be wishing you a good patrol, ser,” offers Suforis as he extends the gelding’s reins to Lorn.

“We?” asks Lorn with a grin.

“Me and Lesyna. She is most pleased to be cleaning and watching over your new dwelling, now. Her da even said it was worth the old mare he gave her,’cepting the mare’s not for much but carrying her. Leastwise she can go to town now and visit her folks.” Suforis grins. “Or carry a scroll or two when it be not wise for me.”

“You don’t mind her riding alone.”

“Lesyna? Always liked the horses, she has.’Sides, captain, what sense it be to say she’ll not ride? Be different when Clebyl gets pensioned off and we get proper quarters, screen and all, instead a’ just a big room … and have children … but now?”

“I’m glad it worked out and that you’re pleased.”

“That be two of us, ser.” Suforis bows his head and gestures toward the next stall.

“Go ahead,” Lorn says. “You’ve work to do.”

After Lorn fastens his saddle bags in place and slips the two firelances into the holder, the captain leads the gelding out of the stable into the courtyard where the lancers of Second Company are mounting up. The high thin clouds that had been visible at dawn are thickening into a more solid gray-or perhaps the dawn clouds just foreshadowed the heavier clouds moving in from the northeast. The brief gusts of wind seem colder as well.

Outside the stable, Lorn mounts the gelding and rides to the north end of the stable building where Shynt is mustering the first squad. “Good morning, Shynt.”

“Good morning, Captain.” Shynt glances past Lorn toward the double column of riders. “We be ready, ser.”

“How is Hykylt?”

“He will ride, ser.” The junior squad leader looks at Lorn and lowers his voice. “Were you trained by a healer, ser?”

“One of my sisters was fortunate enough to become a healer, and I watched closely,” Lorn replies. “I would rather that word not be spread.” Lorn laughs softly. “A fierce lancer officer must not be seen as a gentle healer.”

“Don’t know many as would call you soft, ser.”

“That’s best.” Lorn nods and guides the gelding back southward toward Kusyl and the second squad.

“Ready, ser,” Kusyl reports, even before Lorn reins up.

“We might as well get started.”

“Yes, ser. Second squad, forward, in column by twos!”

“First squad, forward, in column by twos!” echoes from behind them.

Lorn’s heels urge the white gelding forward, and his eyes go to the clouds. A light snow would be better than rain, but only a light snow. So they will have rain or heavy snow, he suspects from the twinges in his skull that foreshadow a storm-headache, as he rides out through the compound gate toward the chaos tower building to his right. His face offers but a pleasant smile when he turns the gelding to the southeast and the patrol ahead.