“Yes, ser?” Lorn responds in a tone of respect.
“We were all so disturbed to hear of the death of senior squad leader Olisenn. He was experienced and well-respected.” Maran touches the end of his short and trim mustache. “I suppose that an accidental death from a misaimed firelance was one of the few ways such an experienced lancer could have died.”
Lorn nods. “It’s always the things you don’t prepare for, I’ve discovered, Majer, that are the ones that are the most dangerous. That accident was something that none of us anticipated, and that could not have been foreseen. I have been reviewing approach plans to ensure that nothing of that sort will occur again in Second Company.”
“You make it sound as though one must be prepared for everything.” Maran laughs warmly and gently. “No lancer officer can prepare for everything. No matter how hard he works, there will always be surprises. That’s what makes life interesting.” The laugh is followed by the warm smile that Maran always bears. “Still, your efforts under slightly strenuous circumstances have revealed that your emphasis on preparednessmay indeed bear welcome fruit, and we look forward to your future reports.”
“Have you and Commander Meylyd had a chance to consider the replacement lancer request which accompanied my last reports?” Lorn smiles off-handedly. “I understand that you and the Commander have much to consider, but since you are here in Jakaafra …”
“Ah … yes.” Maran nods knowingly. “You will receive replacements at the turn of season, some three eightdays from now, as will all the ward-wall patrol companies. The Commander would wish that we could have fully reinforced Second Company, rather than only return you to three-quarter strength, but trained lancers are becoming more scarce. And you have been dealing with the Forest without … permanent … casualties for the last half season, excepting the unfortunate accident with senior squad leader Olisenn. But that was not a result of the actions of the Forest creatures.”
“We have been fortunate,” Lorn admits. “It would be best to be at full strength, but we understand all the many requirements that the Mirror Lancers and Commander Meylyd and you must address.” He raises his eyebrows. “The barbarians? Are their depredations …?”
“We are not informed of such, but I would surmise so.” Maran’s smile widens, and he stands. “I fear I have little else to add.”
“You have been most kind and helpful,” Lorn responds as he also stands.
“Oh … and Captain Lorn, I must tell you again that Commander Meylyd will be most pleased to learn of your success in containing the Accursed Forest with the traditional methods. He looks forward to your continuing success with such.” Maran’s smile and blue eyes remain warm.
“As do we,” Lorn replies, adding after a slight pause, “Will you be staying at Jakaafra tonight?”
“Alas, those higher duties call, and I will be returning to Westend with the Engineers’ firewagon, so that I may attend Commander Meylyd tomorrow.” Maran offers a last smile. “I do appreciate your concern for my comfort and welfare,and I would that you know I feel the same for yours.”
Lorn bows. “A fruitful journey, Majer.”
“It has been, Captain Lorn, most fruitful.” The majer returns the bow before he departs.
LXXXIX
“SER?”
Lorn glances up from the papers on his table desk, papers covered with lines and angles and distances-and the roughscrawled shape of a fallen tree … and a set of double lines that represent the northeast ward-wall.
“Yes, Kusyl?”
“The replacement lancers just rode in, ser. There’s someone to see you, ser.”
“Have him come in.”
“Yes, ser.”
The tall and broad-shouldered lancer with the single stripe of a junior squad leader on his sleeve steps into the inner study. “Squad Leader Shynt, ser. Reporting, ser, as junior squad leader to the Second Company.” The swarthy and black-haired Shynt utters the words as though they were a sentence to death or exile, his baritone voice bleak and without emotion.
“Close the door and sit down, Shynt.” Lorn gestures to the chair across from him and carefully stacks the papers, then replaces the pen in its holder.
“Yes, ser.”
Shynt sits lance-straight on the edge of the armless chair across from Lorn.
“Black angels only know what you’ve been told about Second Company, Shynt.” Lorn’s voice is conversational. “Would you care to share any of that, or would you prefer I guess?”
“Ser … I’ve been told nothing.” Shynt’s voice remains bleak.
Lorn ignores the lie, then tilts his head to the side slightly. “You are a very good squad leader, and you also dislike incompetent captains. You aren’t good at concealing that fact, and as soon as the opening for a squad leader here appeared, you were selected.”
“Ser?” For the first time, Shynt’s voice loses its almost brittle edge.
“You were doubtless allowed to learn-and someone will ensure you hear it if you haven’t already-that I’d managed to lose the most experienced squad leader in all of the Forest patrol companies through a totally avoidable mistake. Then, I’m sure through overhearing and ‘accident,’ you were allowed to discover that more Forest outbreaks occur along the northeast wall than along any ward-wall, and that Commander Meylyd and others are most concerned about that and about Second Company. Finally, someone suggested, most indirectly, that only you could put it right, leaving matters to your own initiative.”
Shynt remains rigid in the chair, as if he dares not speak. “You also probably escorted the most inept group of replacement lancers you have ever seen, and have just discovered that they won’t bring either squad up to more than three-quarter strength.”
When Lorn stops talking, silence is the only response.
“And now you don’t know what to say,” Lorn laughs softly, ironically, but Shynt remains immobile. “That’s because most or all of what I’ve said appears true to you, and because you know you can’t lie convincingly, which is why you were picked for this impossible duty assignment.” He pauses. “Except it’s not impossible. Only Majer Maran believes it’s impossible, because he believes concealment and evasion are stronger than truth.” Lorn’s amber eyes lock on Shynt’s black ones. “Tell me, squad leader Shynt, are you, strong enough to deal with truth?”
“Yes, ser.” Shynt’s tone is close to defiant.
“Good. Before you leave the outer office, before you do anything, you will read all the patrol reports for the last five years, and you will tally up all the fallen tree trunks encounteredby Second Company under each of its captains. You will also tally the casualties by year under each captain. You may ask senior squad leader Kusyl any questions you wish, and I suggest you do. Then, you will come back into my office and report what you have discovered. Is that clear?”
“Yes, ser.” An edge of bewilderment colors the squad leader’s voice.
“Good.” Lorn stands. “I will be here as long as it takes you. But, since we’d both like to eat, I suggest you set to it.” He bends and lifts the unlocked foot chest, setting it on the side of the table desk. “You may read anything else in here as well, if you think it will help your understanding.”
“Yes, ser.”
Shynt takes the chest carefully, and Lorn opens the door to the outer study for him, then closes it and returns to the diagrams and calculations on the papers that he unstacks and spreads once more before him.
It is late afternoon before there is a thrap on the door, although at times Lorn has heard voices, often intense, if whispered, as though Lorn might have been listening.
“Come in,” Lorn says, restacking the tactics sheets, with which he thinks he has reached a solution.
“Ser?” Shynt stands in the doorway with the foot chest in his arms. “Might I return this?”
“Come on in and close the door. Set it on the floor against the wall there.”