“You’re back,” she finally says, leaning away enough to speak, but leaving her arms around him.
“I’m back. It’s so good to hold you.”
“It’s good to hold you.” She glances sideways at him. “You’re worried.”
He nods. “I’m not sure I should be here. I’m supposed to report to the Majer-Commander as soon as I arrive. But it’s been so long.”
“The Majer-Commander can spare us these few moments.”
Lorn agrees, and they embrace again.
After a time, Lorn glances around, then sees the small high-sided bed in the corner.
“He’s sleeping,” Ryalth says. “I’m glad you looked.”
He puts his arms back around her. “I’ve looked so many nights.”
“I know. I could feel it. That’s why…how…I knew you were all right and that you cared when there weren’t any scrolls.”
“There were,” Lorn says. “Dettaur intercepted them all, and all yours to me.”
“Jerial never liked him. Neither did your mother.”
“I never got the scrolls about that, either,” Lorn says.
Ryalth shakes her head. “Why would he do that?”
“Some people are like that. He’s always wanted to bully people, and I’ve stopped him several times.”
Ryalth frowns. “But if you got no scrolls…”
“Your last scroll, the only one I received after the first two seasons ago…it said something about the family problems…and the glass…it came up blank.”
“I’m sorry. Jerial wrote, too, and I think Myryan did.”
“I never got them.”
“Do you have to go? Right away?”
“I can’t stay too long. I probably should have gone straight to the Mirror Lancer Court, but…” Lorn shrugs, then grins. “It has been so long, and I love you, and I’ve missed you.” He also has wanted to at least see Ryalth before he sees the Majer-Commander, for he knows not what lies ahead. “And I’ve never seen Kerial, either.”
Ryalth takes his hand and leads him toward the small bed. “He’s beautiful.”
Lorn looks down at Kerial, his skin fair and clear, his fine hair reddish. After a moment, as if aware he is being studied, the infant opens his eyes, already amber, and gazes back, lifting a chubby hand as if to touch Lorn’s face. Lorn bends and brushes the boy’s cheeks with his lips.
“I’m glad you came here first. It’s the first time you have.”
“You’re the most important one. Both of you.”
“I’m glad.” She touches his cheek. “Will you come back here?”
“As soon as I can.” He draws her close for a last embrace. “As soon as I can.”
It remains a while before Lorn finally reclaims his bags, straightens his uniform, and steps back out into the main space of Ryalor House.
“…doesn’t look so dangerous…”
Eileyt’s laugh is loud enough for Lorn to recognize. “You don’t think her consort would be dangerous?”
As Lorn manages to cross to the outer double doors, he can sense the silence of recognition behind his back. At the doors he looks back. He and Ryalth smile at each other. After a long moment, he turns once more and carries his bags toward the stairs. He hopes he can find a carriage to the Lancers’ Tower. While he knows where the building is, he realizes that he has never been inside the structure. Nor has he ever met either of the men whose names are so familiar.
LXXXIII
The two men pause in the third-floor corridor, outside the main and empty audience hall of the Palace of Eternal Light. Fifty cubits behind them are a pair of guards. Otherwise, the corridor is vacant.
“Greetings, most honored Second Magus,” offers Luss.
“Greetings to you, Captain-Commander.” Kharl inclines his head. “I have not seen you often recently.”
“With fewer audiences being held by His Mightiness…I have been occupied in the Mirror Lancer Court.”
“Ah, yes, I understand. The difficulties in Jerans…rather embarrassing, I would imagine. It must be difficult to persuade the Emperor of the necessity of more lancers in the north when a sub-majer is able to ravage the land and take a major port with less than six companies, and then bring back more golds than his expedition cost.”
“He moved quickly, and raided effectively,” Luss counters. “He took nothing…except, of course, a number of blades, including quite a few that were shipped to the barbarians by the house of the former Merchanter Advisor…and one other house. The Mirror Lancers remain astounded, of course, that the farseeing Magi’i were unaware of this.” The Captain-Commander bows slightly. “There is talk, I also have heard, that Vyanat’mer may move to strip clan status from Bluyet House.”
“There is always talk, but we have not heard such from Vyanat himself, and he is most direct.”
“Oh, most honored and devious of Magi’i, you suggest that some plant the rumors so that Vyanat will seem weak when he does not do such.”
“That has been known to happen,” replies Kharl smoothly. “And when will your young sub-majer who caused this…unsettling…return to Cyad?”
“He should be here shortly.” Luss glances to the west, toward the lower building that holds the headquarters of the Mirror Lancers.
“Today?” presses the Second Magus.
“That is possible.” The Captain-Commander smiles, and his bushy black eyebrows lift. “You seem most interested in a mere sub-majer. But then you do have a certain…interest.”
“I do,” admits Kharl. “He is a former student magus, and all such reflect on the Magi’i, although to date he has reflected most credibly upon the Mirror Lancers. You act as though you are worried about him coming forth to present himself. Will he? Or does he indeed need to worry?”
“You would know better than I, honored Second Magus, for he is related to you, if somewhat indirectly.”
“Were he my son, or a full magus, I would have no doubts. But since he is not, and since he is a lancer…” Kharl shrugs. “That is why I inquire of you. I also must admit that I am curious to see how you and the Majer-Commander receive him. And scarcely for-as you put it-for personal interests.”
“Oh?”
“His actions have pointed out weaknesses in the Mirror Lancers and corruption in the merchanters. Were anything to happen to him, particularly immediately, more questions would be raised about the Mirror Lancers being somehow…indebted to the merchanters.” Kharl laughs. “I know that such could never happen, but the perception would be there, nonetheless. It would not affect the less-senior officers, for young Lorn’s actions would be taken as more…representative…of their abilities and motivations.”
“The Majer-Commander is most aware of the subtleties of the situation.”
“As I am most certain you are, Captain-Commander,” Kharl suggests. “You have always placed the reputation of the Mirror Lancers high in your priorities.”
“As have you the reputation of the Magi’i in yours.” Luss bows. “If you will but excuse me, honored Second Magus, the Majer-Commander expects me most shortly.”
“I am most certain that he does, and I wish you well.”
LXXXIV
Lorn steps into the front foyer of the five-story white granite building, a structure larger than any in the compounds and outposts where he has served, but one not terribly large-less than a hundred cubits long and sixty deep at the base, with each floor having a terrace, so that the structure narrows with each floor. The foyer itself is perhaps thirty cubits on a side with a set of wide white granite steps at the back, just behind a square stone arch that contains no ornamentation. The stone walls are also plain white sunstone, while the floor is a slightly pinkish white granite that has been polished into a shimmering finish. The only decoration in the foyer are the two green tapestries on the rear wall flanking the archway to the stairs. Each silver-bordered tapestry shows a silver sabre crossed by silver firelance.