Scion of Cyador

CXX

It is near midday when Lorn walks into the Majer-Commander’s study, uncertain of the reason for his summons, since he has submitted all the reports that are required. Has the Majer-Commander finally decided to discuss his draft report on the Jeranyi strategy?

He bows. “Ser?”

“Please have a seat, Majer.” Rynst leans back in his armchair, the one behind the wide table desk. Behind him, bathed in warm fall light, the Palace of Eternal Light is once more framed in the large and ancient windows.

Lorn sits, comfortably, but neither fully into the seat, nor on the front edge.

“Majer…you are considered a good commander of lancers, by every commander who has supervised you. Most are wary of you, but all recommend you. Would you care to explain?”

“Ser, I honestly cannot say I know why this is so.”

Rynst laughs. “Well and carefully said. Then I will ask you to guess why such might be so.”

Lorn considers what and how much he should say. Finally, he begins. “I would guess, and this is but a guess, that my approach to tactics differs initially, although my goals have always been to accomplish any task with the greatest gain and fewest losses for the Mirror Lancers and for Cyador.”

“Perhaps the last few words explain it all,” suggests Rynst.

“Ser?” Lorn immediately wishes he had not said those three words, safe though they had sounded.

“ ‘…and for Cyador.’ You do believe in the Empire of Perpetual Light.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Why? Please do not provide the words of the Lancers’ Code or some such.”

“Because, ser, for all its faults, from what I have seen, Cyador offers more than any other land in which people live. There is less hatred, and people live better lives in less fear.”

“A practical answer from a very practical lancer officer.” Rynst nods. “Majer…why were you successful in subverting Majer Dettaur’s attempts to have you removed from your position?”

Lorn does not try to hide the frown, knowing that Rynst is looking for something other than the obvious. “I recognized that was his goal from the beginning.”

The Majer-Commander smiles coldly. “That is the first element of dealing with a problem. One must recognize the problem. What did you do then?”

“I did my best to train and upgrade the forces at Inividra and to use the most effective tactics I could develop.”

“Again…a simple application of well-known maxims, enhanced by your ability to develop and use tactics others had not considered…for various reasons.” Rynst fingers his chin. “Yet…when you returned to Inividra, whether you will acknowledge it or not, and I do not intend to press the matter, Majer Dettaur had arranged for you to be relieved in disgrace. You took six companies to Assyadt. Why? And why was that successful?”

Lorn smiles coolly, managing not to swallow, and gambling that he faces a time when only truth will suffice. “Because there is never more than a company of lancers at Assyadt and because, once I held the compound, I knew that I could use the reports and the materials there to prove that Majer Dettaur was acting contrary to the best interests of the Mirror Lancers.”

“As you did.” Rynst nods once more. “Most carefully, and most meticulously. You were right about the records. You were right about the tactics, and you were right about Majer Dettaur’s goals. For all that, you would have failed, except for six companies of lancers.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Sometimes, one must have his forces where they can be noticed.”

Lorn nods, silently wondering exactly where the Majer-Commander is leading the strange discussion-and why.

“We have but four fireships now. What are the most effective forces remaining that can still draw upon chaos?”

“The Mirror Lancers-and the firelances that remain.”

“And where are they?”

“Stationed around the Accursed Forest, and mostly along the Grass Hills.”

“And where do the outland traders port most often?” presses the gray-haired Rynst.

“In Cyad.” Lorn pauses. “You are suggesting that it might be advisable to have some of the Mirror Lancers here? Or perhaps at times, with maneuvers that the outlanders could watch-with firelances while we still have such?”

“What do you think of that proposition, Majer?”

“It could not but help.” Lorn frowns. “We would have to set up a maneuver area near the piers, perhaps where some of the older warehouses now stand. If the Mirror Engineers used something like their firecannon to level the structures…that might also create an impression.”

“Hmmm…that is also a good idea. Commander Muyro would like that.”

Lorn waits.

“There remains one significant problem with that proposition.”

“Ser?”

“I have no field commanders here with recent experience, and those in the field now do not understand the delicacy of the situation. I trust you can understand that.”

Lorn fears that he does. “You would like me to help a commander with these, as your aide?”

“No.” Rynst’s denial is firm and cold.

“If you wish a recommendation,” Lorn says slowly, “perhaps Majer Brevyl-”

“I think it best that you command the two companies-and that one of them be a company you know already. You have a reputation. I intend to ensure that the outlanders know of that reputation.” Rynst pauses. “Do you understand, Majer?”

“Yes, ser.”

“I believe you do. I believe you honestly do.” The Majer-Commander leans forward. “Before the afternoon is out, you will submit a list of companies that you would wish-with the company officer you desire. You will command them as if Cyad were a standard outpost. That is, your duties will remain as they are here, except that you will plan and direct the training and maneuver schedules, based on the port schedules of the outland traders. And you will offer invitations-in person, if necessary-to those traders and ships’ masters as I direct. Also, much as you dislike it, you will, as you can, suggest that it is past time that Cyad should take over ports in Candar that are unfriendly. Then, you will stress that, of course, those are but your own ideas.”

Lorn conceals-he hopes-the wince he feels.

“Do you understand the importance of that, Majer? Can you explain it back to me?”

“Yes, ser. I believe I am to be regarded as an example of the bloody-minded lancer officer who would sack every trading port in Candar for Cyador, were I not kept under tight rein by my commanders.”

Rynst laughs. “You can be slightly less direct than that. Just allow them to guess such from your carriage and actions.”

“Yes, ser.”

“And, Majer…” Rynst’s voice hardens.

“Yes, ser.”

“You and those two companies are under my direct command…and no one else’s. Should anything happen to me, you are under the Emperor’s direct command, and no one else’s. And this you are to tell no one. No one.”

Lorn does swallow before responding. “Yes, ser.”

“I am very glad you understand that.” A smile follows. “I doubt anything will ever come to that, but it is best to have that clear. That is also another reason why this command is yours.”

Lorn waits again.

“You are a scion of Cyador, not of the Mirror Lancers, no matter how well you serve. At times, we need such, and this is one of those times.” Rynst nods. “You may go.”

“By your leave, ser?”

“By my leave.”

Lorn stands, bows, and then walks from the study. No matter how matters are couched, the idea of two companies of Mirror Lancers in Cyad, pledged to the Majer-Commander directly, and then to the Emperor, is a frightening thought.

A faint smile crosses his lips as he descends the stairs from the foyer to his own study, a smile not of humor, but of irony. More frightening than that is the realization that Rynst understands Lorn well enough to know that Lorn will indeed regard himself as bound to the Emperor and Cyador and not to the Captain-Commander or any other commander.