Scion of Cyador

CLV

Rynst stands by the study window, half-turned toward the Palace of Light, its white walls seeming less crisp than normal in the hazy midmorning light of a day in early winter. His eyes ease to Lorn, but the Majer-Commander does not move from the window.

“Ser?” Lorn bows after closing the door to the Majer-Commander’s study. Then he steps past the conference table and halts before the desk, waiting.

“One of the chaos-towers of the Magi’i failed last night,” Rynst begins, without looking at Lorn. “The First Magus was killed, as was another magus. They were attempting to stabilize the chaos-tower, according to the Second Magus, but something went astray. So…now there are but two chaos-towers operating in all of Cyador, save the three on the remaining fireships.”

Lorn swallows silently, waiting.

Finally, Rynst turns from the closed and ancient glass panes. He does not step toward the desk. “That is not the worst. The Emperor has canceled all audiences. It is unlikely he will survive the eightday. The Empress has announced that the heir has been decided and will be named shortly. That could be before or after the Emperor’s death. It may not matter. You should have your lancers in readiness, Majer.”

Lorn nods his acknowledgment.

“I have not heard how the Magi’i will choose a successor to Chyenfel, but it is likely that the Second Magus will become the First Magus, and the Third the Second, and that a Third Magus will be named at a later time.” Rynst smiles, briefly, and without meaning. “For these reasons, and others, I have approved your request to put the Mirror Engineers operating the firecannon directly under your command. That order is good for three eightdays. That should be sufficient.” The Majer-Commander offers a cold smile. “I have also informed Majer Hrenk and Captain Ghyrat that you are their superior in the chain of command, and that whatever orders you give regarding the use and placement of the firecannon are to be obeyed and carried out without delay.”

“I hope it is not necessary, ser.”

“So do I, but it is appearing more so. Former captain Sasyk appears to have seized control of the guards of Dyjani House. Word is that he has killed the two most notable candidates to succeed Tasjan.” Rynst’s lips curl. “That is a merchanter matter, and one in which neither the Magi’i nor the Mirror Lancers can intervene without the order of the Emperor. The Emperor is unlikely to give any more orders.”

“And until the merchanters strike, you can do nothing?” Lorn asks.

“Unless the merchanters threaten the city or the Palace, the Mirror Lancers will not shed blood. What the merchanters do within their houses is their affair.”

Lorn nods.

“Once it leaves the merchanters, it is our affair. Your affair, Majer, and I will not second-guess your actions or decisions. I only order you to make sure that whatever heir the Emperor names does take the Malachite Throne.” Rynst’s voice hardens. “Whomever the Emperor names. No matter what that name may be.”

“Yes, ser.”

“You are known as an officer whose word has always remained unbroken. Will it be so in this, Majer?”

“Yes, ser.”

Rynst nods abruptly. “Good. Best you see to your companies and to the engineers. I would judge that little will occur before tomorrow, but that is but a wager in a game whose rules are unannounced and changing with each passing moment.”

Lorn bows.

“And Majer…”

“Ser?”

“Without honor, without duty, you have nothing. Nor do I. The Majer-Commander of Mirror Lancers must never be a candidate for the Malachite Throne. Nor the Captain-Commander. Were that to happen…then none could trust the Mirror Lancers. I would hope the Magi’i would feel that way as well. I know Chyenfel did.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Good day, Majer.” Rynst turns back to the window, his eyes on the Palace of Eternal Light.

As he leaves the Majer-Commander, Lorn’s face is impassive, but the combination of duty and near-fatality in Rynst’s words chills him within. Rynst has as much as ordered him not to allow Luss to claim the Malachite Throne. Yet it is an unspoken order.

The white gelding remains where Lorn had tied him earlier in the morning, in the third stall in the small stable for visiting officers. Lorn gives the gelding a pat, then leads the horse out into a day that remains chill and hazy. As he rides the white gelding from Mirror Lancer Court down Third Harbor Way West, his eyes scan the streets. They seem almost as normal, although there may be a touch fewer souls about. Then, that may be because of the chill wind out of the northeast. He rides past the warehouse barracks to the next building, the one housing the Mirror Engineers and their large and small firecannon. He has barely dismounted and tied the gelding to the bronze ring of the innermost hitching post, before a ginger-bearded, balding, and young-faced captain steps out of the narrow doorway and toward Lorn.

“Ser.” Ghyrat bows. “I have received the Majer-Commander’s orders. What can we do for you?”

“Nothing…I hope, but I fear we will need both your cannon.”

“So do I.” Ghyrat fingers his pointed goatee. “The Majer-Commander would scarce order such were he not concerned. Yet he offered no reasons.”

Lorn nods. “I doubt he would wish any placed in ink. It appears likely that the Dyjani merchanters may use the piers to land ships and more of their greensuited guards, to require a merchanter heir to the Palace.”

“A merchanter heir?”

“The current head of Dyjani House has assembled more than tenscore of the armed greensuited guards. He is a former Mirror Lancer officer and has trained them to the same degree as are lancer rankers.”

“Tenscore?” Ghyrat swallows.

“Also, the First Magus was killed in an accident with a chaos-tower last night. How that may impact us…I am uncertain.”

“I would not guess, ser, save that it might make the merchanters more quick to act.”

“If any vessels appear with the Dyjani ensign or any that appear unknown or otherwise suspicious, can you move the firecannon quickly to the base of the pier? The large one?”

The engineer officer nods. “We can have it set to move.”

“Then do so, if you would. As quickly as you can.”

“We will. But you will have to give the orders to fire and upon whom.”

“If it comes to that, then I will.” Lorn holds back a frown. Rynst has given Lorn a clear chain of command, but to whom can Lorn turn? For he is not invincible, as he knows all too well.

“Ser?”

Lorn glances toward the harbor and the piers, empty except for a Sligan deepwater vessel and a Gallosian coaster. “I hope an heir is named soon, one that all accept, and that it does not come to the use of lances and cannon.”

“We all hope such, Majer,” replies Ghyrat. “But who is the man whom all will accept as heir and Emperor in these times?”

Who indeed?

“The Emperor has decided,” Lorn replies. “We are to support whatever that decision may be.” In chaos and in blood-the chaos and the blood Lorn has never wished upon Cyad, City of Eternal Light.