“Fifteenscore?” Rynst nods. “He has them, then, for he would not dare assert such, were it not so. Does he present any proof of such?”
“He sent a confirmation sealed by both of the Emperor’s Enumerators in Biehl,” Luss admits. “Fourteenscore-and-eleven, exactly, and all but five with recent forge markings.”
“You did not mention that, Luss. Most amazing, most amazing, and you almost had me believing that he had fabricated it all. What else did he say?” Rynst pauses, before adding, “Not that I will not read his report myself, after all this.”
“He wrote that there were more than eighteenscore barbarians, and that he and his forces killed them all, at the cost of three-and-a-halfscore in lancers and guards, ser.” Luss smiles blandly. “That there were no survivors seems…unusual.” Luss adds. “He did attach statements from all the surviving squad leaders, verifying the numbers and that there were no survivors.”
“Does he say why there were no survivors?”
“There is a brief statement that survivors were not in the interest of Cyad, since there were no outposts nearby to deal with any follow-up raids that might occur.”
“So he and his men killed eighteenscore barbarians, and he killed any captives. These barbarians were within the boundaries of Cyador?”
“That is what the overcaptain says.”
“And what says the Second Magus?” Rynst’s eyebrows lift. “I am certain you consulted him, since he is related to the overcaptain, albeit rather indirectly.”
“He says that the battle took place well west of the Grass Hills, on a river east of Nhais. Overcaptain Lorn rode the beaches, then followed them down the valley, and struck them from behind, we believe. His glass indicates none of the barbarians survived.”
“So…the honorable Kharl is so worried about the overcaptain that he took time to follow him in his chaos-glass.” Rynst folds his hands together, then leans back in his chair. “Overcaptain Lorn left no survivors, and in the middle of nowhere, with no maps, no Magi’i, he managed to find them and kill six for every man he lost? Would that we had more like him.”
“He did it without authorization of any sort, ser, and then he sent copies of his battle report to Assyadt, Inividra, Pemedra, Isahl, and Syadtar. His cover letter to those commanders suggested that they be wary as well, since he had discovered large numbers of Hamorian-forged weapons, and that as the commander of the port detachment he had heard reports from numerous captains that weapons were being shipped to Jera.”
Rynst winces. “He is clever. One could not discipline an officer who kills barbarians and discovers from whence come their weapons, not without many officers questioning us.”
“No, ser. That is why I thought you should know.”
“So that the full responsibility will be mine, no doubt.”
“It is always, ser.”
“Perhaps we should transfer Overcaptain Lorn to a duty station where he can use his skills doing what he does best.” Rynst glances at Luss. “What think you, Captain-Commander?”
“The overcaptain is rather good at killing barbarians, ser.”
“And Biehl has become a worthy station, has it not?”
“Yes, ser.”
“Perhaps Majer Brevyl should enjoy it…Sub-Majer Lorn will report immediately, without furlough or leave, to Assyadt and will be assigned command of the companies at Inividra. Oh…make it clear that our new sub-majer is to personally command at least some of the patrols. It is what he does best. You may go and ensure this occurs as swiftly as possible.”
“Yes, ser.” Luss smiles and stands.
Watching Luss depart, Rynst smiles as well.
XLII
As he sits at the desk in the administration-building study, in an midafternoon far too hot for harvest, Lorn dips the pen in the ink and forces himself to write yet another line in the revised training schedule he is developing for the late fall and early winter-if he is still in Biehl and if he can recruit more lancers to replace the two squads he has lost in the battle against the Jeranyi raiders. Almost two eightdays have passed since Lorn and the lancers have returned to Biehl, and the early-fall weather remains warm, almost sultry.
“Ser!” Helkyt opens the study door without knocking.
“Yes?” Lorn looks up from the sheets of paper spread across his desk.
“This just came on the firewagon, ser.” Helkyt extends a narrow package wrapped in green shimmercloth-a cubit long and roughly cylindrical. “Said it had to go to you, urgent-like.”
“Thank you.” Lorn stands and takes the cloth-wrapped package, then sets it on the desk. He makes no effort to open it.
Helkyt remains standing opposite the desk.
“I’ll let you know,” Lorn says softly, adding once more, “Thank you.”
“Ah…yes, ser.” Helkyt bows and slips out, closing the door quietly.
Once alone inside his officer’s study, Lorn stands and looks at the package. Finally, he unwraps it. He looks at the set of two heavy scrolls with their green seals and ribbons, and then at the green felt pouch as if it contains a serpent or coiled chaos.
He opens the first scroll, heavily sealed and with ornate gilt lettering at the top and the shield and lance emblem of the Mirror Lancers. There are few words, and while they would bring satisfaction to many lancer officers, they chill him.
…hereby convey upon Lorn’alt of Cyad the rank of Sub-Majer in the Mirror Lancers of Cyador, and the role of protector and defender of the Land of Eternal Light, the Steps of Paradise…and all benefits and duties associated therewith…”
In short, he is a sub-majer, a good three to five years ahead of the normal promotion patterns. He sets aside the first scroll and breaks the green seal on the second. The second scroll is worse, and he has to read it twice because his eyes skip from line to line.
Sub-Majer Lorn’alt of Cyad, you are hereby assigned as commander, and officer in charge of the Mirror Lancer outpost at Inividra…The urgency of this commission is such that you are ordered to take the next available firewagon from Biehl. You are to report to Assyadt immediately, and to present yourself to Commander Ikynd…As outpost commander, you will also take immediate command of those patrols to your choosing and lead each company under your command on a significant number of patrols…No home leave or furlough period is allowable in connection with your travel and transfer to this assignment. Furlough and home leave will apply as if your new assignment were a continuation of your present assignment…
A third and smaller scroll is attached to his orders, and Lorn reads it in turn.
Your relief will be Majer Brevyl, who has been detached and should already be in transit by the time you leave. He has been briefed on the arms situation with Jera and has received a copy of all reports you have transmitted to the Majer-Commander. It is strongly recommended that you take actual command of a specific company…
There is a scrawled signature beneath the message: Luss’alt, Captain-Commander.
Lorn nods to himself, then laughs humorlessly. Finally, he opens the green pouch and takes out the triple bars, laying them on the training schedule papers. He removes the arched double bars from his uniform collar and replaces them with the sub-majer’s insignia. Then, he stands and walks to the door, opening it and stepping out. Tashqyt and Swytyl turn. The two have been talking to Helkyt. The senior squad leader’s eyes catch the new insignia instantly, as if he had suspected.
“Ser! Congratulations!”
“Congratulations, ser!” echo both junior squad leaders.
“Thank you. Thank you all.” He pauses. “Times…they are changing, and things are going to change more at Biehl. I’ve been transferred, immediately, to be the new commanding officer at Inividra…”
Tashqyt and Swytyl exchange glances, and the sharp-featured Tashqyt frowns.
Helkyt nods slowly, as if regretfully. “They want you back to fight the barbarians.”