Scion of Cyador

CIV

Lorn looks at the stack of reports on the corner of his desk-most of them copies of requests for provisions and weapons. Finally, he picks up the first one-from a Majer Kuyn at Pemedra-and begins to read.

He is on the second page when there is a knock on the door of his Mirror Court study. He looks up. “Yes?”

“Majer, if you have a moment?” A red-haired commander steps inside-Commander Sypcal, the Eastern Regional commander of Mirror Lancers.

Lorn stands quickly. “Of course, ser.”

Sypcal closes the study door and glances at the chair across the table desk from Lorn. “If you don’t mind…?”

“Oh…please.” Lorn waits until the commander sits before reseating himself and waiting for the other to offer his reason for calling on a junior majer.

Sypcal’s green eyes take in the room, then focus on Lorn. “You have a pleasant study, Majer, and very little showing your personal side. I would not have expected otherwise. You are wise to do that.” A rueful expression crosses his lips. “Especially in Cyad, where everyone seems to know everything.”

“Cyad is known to be like that.”

“You would know that, having been raised here.” Sypcal glances toward the window, slightly ajar, then back at Lorn. “I am going to be honest with you, Majer Lorn. I am not a city lancer. As all can tell you, I come from Geliendra, and my father was a cooper.”

As he sits closer to Sypcal than he has at the formal meetings in the study of the Majer-Commander, Lorn can see the silver streaks in the red hair, and the fine lines radiating from around the commander’s green eyes.

“No one was more surprised than I was when Rynst-he was Captain-Commander then-asked me to come from Assyadt to Cyad. I’ve been here seven years.”

“All speak highly of you, ser,” Lorn says.

“Everyone speaks highly of everyone in Cyad. How could it be otherwise?” A smile crinkles the corners of Sypcal’s mouth.

“You suggest that it is only a question of how highly one is spoken?”

“And about what one is praised. I am praised for my grasp of tactics, Inylt for his grasp of logistics, Muyro for his understanding of the operations of the Mirror Engineers…” Sypcal shrugs. “My tactics mean little in Mirror Lancer Court.”

“They mean much in the field,” Lorn replies.

“You are kind,” Sypcal says. “And we may speak of that later. I do have one question. You may choose not to answer it, but I would prefer to ask.”

Lorn smiles wryly. “That sounds like a dangerous question.”

Sypcal laughs, once. “Not that dangerous.” He pauses. “Would you care to tell me why the Captain-Commander fears you?”

Lorn forces a laugh, one he hopes is genial enough. “I wasn’t aware that I created fear, except perhaps among the Jeranyi and some of the junior lancers I commanded.” He lets the smile that follows the laugh fade. “If what you say is true, I could hazard a guess, but it would only be such.”

“Would you?” Sypcal raises his eyebrows.

Lorn decides to gamble, although it is not really that great a gamble. “Several officers have been sent to kill me under questionable circumstances. They failed.”

“So it is said.” Sypcal nods. “Will you indulge another question?”

Lorn nods.

“Do you know why you are in Cyad? You are arguably the best junior field commander in the Mirror Lancers. Had you been given command in Syadtar, we might not even have a problem with the barbarians, or certainly far less of one. The Majer-Commander, for all his faults, and he has many to accompany his strengths, has always been known to favor good field commanders in the field.”

“But you are here,” Lorn points out.

Sypcal shakes his head. “I was a good field commander. I know what it requires to be a great one, but I am older than I look, and tired, Majer. I suggested to Rynst that you be given the command at Syadtar-or the assistant command and then promoted. He refused, without giving a reason.”

Lorn does not conceal the frown. “That, I cannot say. Commander Ikynd at Assyadt recommended that I be assigned to Cyad.”

“And you doubtless drafted that recommendation?”

Lorn smiles. “Let us say that it was a mutual decision. I felt that I had too little experience to take on a large field command, and certainly not enough rank. I did not want another immediate assignment fighting, and it appeared likely that staying in the field would require that.” He shrugs.

“And you had already had a port detachment.” Sypcal nods. “From your viewpoint, it makes much sense. You could see your consort and family, and you could learn more about the lancers.” He smiles again, openly and warmly. “Have you?”

Lorn nods. “A great deal. Enough to discover that there is much more to learn.”

“There always is.” Sypcal stands.

Lorn does as well.

“Thank you for indulging my curiosity. I’m pleased to know that you are capable of dealing with the unexpected. One can never be too careful in Cyad.” Sypcal takes a step toward the door, and then turns back. “Oh…you might wish to know that Commander Lhary and the Captain-Commander were most pleased that you were assigned to Cyad, rather than a larger field command.” Sypcal smiles once more, but only with his mouth. “I trust you will find use for that observation.”

“I cannot say I am surprised by the preferences of the Captain-Commander. I had not known of Commander Lhary’s preferences.”

“Commander Lhary is most circumspect about both his preferences and his life. Circumspection is often necessary in Cyad. Good day, Majer.”

“Good day, ser.” Lorn bows slightly.

Once the door is closed, Lorn frowns. Has he waited too long? Has he been reacting too much to events? He laughs, half-bitterly. All he has done in Cyad is react.

Yet…what can he do? What should he do? Everything that Sypcal said bore the feel of truth, and Lorn could sense that the commander offered no barriers.

Action would be far more to his preference than to wait, but there is a time for action, and that time has not come, nor does Lorn yet know of any way to hasten it.

His eyes flick to the reports he must read, but he raises his eyes and glances out the window once more, for a long moment, before returning to the reading at hand.