Scion of Cyador

XIII

On the first morning after his arrival in Biehl, Lorn sets the list he has written up on the wide desk in the administrative headquarters. Then he surveys the room more carefully than he had the day before. Like everything else in the Mirror Lancer compound at Biehl, the study Lorn has as a compound commander is larger than those he has seen elsewhere-and far older. None of the five manuals in the built-in oak bookcase has been opened in years, if not generations, as Lorn discovers when lifting one and discovering that a thin strip of leather from the binding remains stuck to the wood of the shelves.

Fine cracks adorn the antique golden oak table desk, and he has never seen the like of either the ornate swirled bronze lamps or the wall sconces in which they rest. The chair behind the desk is large-and heavy. Dust puffs from the wide green cushion that covers the seat when Lorn plumps it. He rubs his nose, managing not to sneeze.

The window is stiff, but he eases it open enough to let in some of the moister and cleaner outside air. Then he reseats himself behind the desk, glancing toward the two chests filled with less than perfectly kept records, the study of which had occupied much of the previous evening.

After a deep breath, he clears his throat and calls, “Helkyt!”

The door opens, and the squad leader appears. “Yes, ser?”

Lorn motions for Helkyt to take one of the chairs on the other side of the table desk. He waits for the man to seat himself, and for a bit longer, before he begins. “We have more than a few matters to take care of around here, Helkyt,” Lorn says with a cheer he scarcely feels.

“Yes, ser.” Helkyt’s voice is even, wary.

“First, best you know why I was sent here.”

“That had puzzled me, ser, I must admit.”

“You may have heard that the barbarians have been increasing their attacks to the east and the south of here. Isahl, Inividra, Assyadt-they’ve all had more and more attacks by larger and larger groups.”

“I hadn’t heard that, ser, but there’s much we don’t hear in Biehl.”

“The Majer-Commander needs more trained lancers.” Lorn waits.

“Ah…so…”

Lorn nods. “You understand that with the barbarians becoming more active…well…the Emperor does need more lancers in Assyadt…and we can either train them or find ourselves being transferred. All of us.”

Helkyt tries to avoid swallowing.

“We both would rather recruit and train more lancers. That means we’ll have to clean up the north wing of the barracks, and start acquiring more mounts, and sabres. We can only do a little of the firelance training here, because those lances are needed elsewhere, but I’ll be seeing if we can be sent a few more, just in case the barbarians decide to come westward from Jera. It also means that we’ll have to be ready to begin training no later than the turn of summer.”

“The turn of summer, ser?”

The overcaptain gives the senior squad leader another smile. “I’m certain you can help me work this out, Helkyt. I’d much rather rely on someone of your experience in Biehl than to break in someone new.”

“I am sure we can meet the Majer-Commander’s requirements, ser. Ah…will there be other officers…company captains?”

“I was led to believe that I have the first opportunity here, Helkyt. I’d like to be able to work it out between us. If it proves to take too long, though, there could be several officers arriving, and the Majer-Commander would just bring in an entire new cadre.”

“I am most sure we can work out matters, ser. Most sure.”

Lorn leans back in his chair, but only slightly. “I am most pleased that you feel that way. Both the Majer-Commander and His Mightiness are known to reward success as surely as they punish failure. We would both prefer the rewards, I believe.”

“Yes, ser. Yes, ser.” Helkyt nods his head twice, quickly.

“Now…let’s talk about what we can do immediately. The payroll first, because it affects how many new lancers we can train. I’ve been looking at those records.”

Helkyt remains impassive in his chair, but his eyes flicker.

“The numbers don’t add up.” The overcaptain shrugs. “We cannot change the past, and I won’t pass judgment on what has happened.” He pauses. “But it won’t keep happening. We have a payroll enough for two companies of lancers. We have less than one company. We aren’t recruiting that many young lancers, and I would guess many of their skills are suspect. So…we’ll have to make sure the lancers who aren’t so good get retrained, as well. I’d like you to begin organizing the training program-both for recruits and for those who need more training. Pick the two best riding lancers for mount and formation training and the two best for sabres. They can be the same men, or they can be different. I may help out, as I can.” Lorn frowns. “At first, with the sabre training, we’d best pad the blades to begin with, at least until the younger ones know which side has an edge and which does not.”

Helkyt nods his head up and down slowly, then takes out a piece of squarish cloth and blots his forehead.

Lorn ignores the gesture and continues. “I’ll meet with you and with the men you’ve chosen first thing tomorrow.” He looks at the next item on his handwritten list. “The pay chest is the next thing. There’s much of that payroll that seems to have disappeared. I’m sure that if you looked, you could find some of it. We’re going to need it.” Lorn smiles at Helkyt. “I’m also sure that if a good portion of the missing silvers and golds turn up and we accomplish what the Majer-Commander has in mind, he wouldn’t want to bother himself with sending more officers here.”

Helkyt nods slowly. “There are perhaps somewhat less than a hundred golds in the chest in the strong room, and some two hundred silvers. I might be able to find some others, placed elsewhere for safekeeping, now that we know what the Majer-Commander has in mind.”

“I’m certain you will do your best.” Lorn smiles briefly. “Now, how does our payroll get here?”

“We get a chest every other eightday,” replies the senior squad leader. “I take the travel chest to the Emperor’s Enumerators, and they fill it, and the guards and I bring it here and put it in the strongroom until we pay the men on sevenday.”

“When you do next receive that payroll?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Good. From now on, each time you do that, we’ll count it here in the study, and we’ll both sign a record showing how much we received.”

“Yes, ser. I’ll talk to the enumerators.”

“That’s a good idea. They should know what the Majer-Commander has in mind, too, especially before they provide the next payroll.”

“I would think so, ser.”

“I’ll have to meet with them. Perhaps we should do it together.”

“Ah…yes, ser.”

Lorn smiles again. “I want to make sure that we’re supplying them with the services they need.”

“You said your consort was the head of a trading house, ser?”

“Yes. I’ve learned a great deal from her.”

Helkyt smiles. “I am certain the enumerators will wish to learn that the commander has some understanding of trade and merchanters.”

“You might send them a message to that effect, but I think we should meet with them tomorrow, as early as possible.”

“Yes, ser.”

Lorn glances at his handwritten list again. “The north wing of the barracks. We’ll need to hire a cart or a wagon and carry all the junk off. Is there a rag-picker here in Biehl that might pay us something for the cloth and the wood?”

Helkyt’s face blanks.

“You need to find out if there is. Also, we’ll need to see about whether there enough cuprite for the coppersmith to pay us…”

Lorn stops as Helkyt’s eyes begin to glaze over. “I’ve offered enough for now. Why don’t you start on working out who can do the training?” He stands. “We’ll talk later.”

Helkyt lurches to his feet. “I will have those names for you shortly, ser. Most shortly.”

The smile does not leave Lorn’s face until the senior squad leader closes the door behind him.