Scion of Cyador

LXVIII

In the late afternoon, Lorn glances downriver and back at the clouds of black-and-gray smoke that have drifted across both the river and the harbor, the result of the flames that continue to consume the city that had been Jera. With all the trees and the old wooden structures, with few of stone or brick, Lorn doubts much will remain by morning. The decaying port town had been little more than a collection point for Hamorian and Spidlarian traders to drop off arms…but it doubtless had been home to many, who will suffer from his actions. Some are innocent, insofar as anyone who benefits from living in a city that prospers from trade in killing implements is innocent.

His eyes go to the rear of the column and the wagons that creak after the Mirror Lancers. The first wagon is filled with chests containing golds and silvers, more than five thousand golds at rough count, and all sorts of trading records that Lorn must read. The second holds weapons-Hamorian longswords and Brystan sabres-as well as the cases of unused and recently-forged cupridium sabres clearly forged in Cyad-without lancer markings. The third holds provisions, as do the packhorses that bring up the rear.

Once he returns to Inividra, Lorn will recommend that the fireships of Cyad-those remaining-land lancers, and rebuild the town as a Cyadoran colony. Controlling the River Jeryna will choke off an easy supply of weapons to the Jeranyi, and holding one town will be far less costly than facing endless lines of barbarians across the north of Cyador.

He smiles to himself. Again, he is thinking as though he had real power to do or recommend such. While his efforts have been somewhat successful, he has no doubts that he will face severe disciplinary action-assuming he can even return to Inividra with most of his forces. Yet, as always, his real choices have been limited.

“Strange city,” ventures Quytyl, riding beside him.

“In many ways,” muses Lorn. “The warehouses near the pier were new, built over the ruins of older buildings. There were abandoned buildings, and the armsmen were Hamorian.” He shakes his head.

“Why were the Hamorians there?” asks Quytyl.

“Trade, golds…it’s almost as if they were starting to take over the city.”

“Could they? It’s a long voyage from Swartheld to Jera, isn’t it?”

“They held part of it,” Lorn points out. “Those records will tell. I’ll have to read through them before we get back.”

After several moments of silence, he glances back once more at the gray-and-black smoke that still rises from the burning city.

They have another eightday, at least, of riding, and fighting, to return to Inividra. While Lorn can “inspect” a few firelances, and add some chaos, his energies are limited, compared to the number of lances. As with everything, what he can do is limited.

Lorn shakes his head slowly.