Queen of Fire

“Books?” the war chief frowned.

 

“Virosra san elosra dural,” Dahrena told him. Lyrna’s Seordah was markedly less accomplished than her Lonak, but she had enough for a rough translation. The words that cage the spirit.

 

“No,” the Seordah told Lyrna. “No books for the Seordah. Not now, not in the before times. All is spoken and remembered. Only the spoken word is true.”

 

Lyrna saw Dahrena hesitate then say something in the Seordah tongue, too fast to easily translate and rich in words beyond Lyrna’s knowledge. Whatever their meaning, the words were enough to darken Hera Drakil’s expression and he turned away, striding off through the disordered ranks of his people.

 

“Is he offended?” Lyrna asked Dahrena.

 

The lady’s face was drawn in sadness as she watched the war chief walk away. “Only the spoken word is true,” she said. “I told him the truth. He didn’t like it.”

 

? ? ?

 

The army swelled as it moved east, hidden bands of fugitives and escaped slaves emerging from forest and cave to join them or beg food. Lyrna made sure all were provided for, even those reluctant to join their ranks, though these were few in number. There were numerous Realm Guard stragglers among the new recruits, eager for a return to regiments that were now mostly extinct. At her request Brother Caenis had stepped down as Lord Marshal of the Realm Guard contingent, though his decision had caused some discord in the ranks. Regardless of any Dark affliction, many still saw him as a saviour, the fearless commander who led them to deliverance after calamitous defeat. Others were less accepting, mainly the men who had served under Lady Reva at Cumbrael and the fugitives found on the march, leading to a fair amount of loud quarrelling and even a few fist-fights. A formal delegation of sergeants had gone to Vaelin requesting Caenis’s reinstatement and the Battle Lord had been obliged to calm their anger by elevating one of their own in the brother’s place, a veteran sergeant of stocky build with a face like scarred leather.

 

“Sergeant Travick, Highness,” he said, going to one knee before her the day she joined them on the march. “Late of the Sixteenth Regiment of Foot.”

 

“Ah, the Black Bears as I recall,” Lyrna said, gesturing for Benten to bring her the item he had procured from Brother Hollun’s travelling armoury.

 

Travick blinked at her in surprise. “Yes, Highness. Your memory does you credit.”

 

“Thank you. However, I must advise you that your etiquette, by contrast, is sadly lacking.”

 

The veteran lowered his head, frowning in embarrassment. “Forgive me, Highness. Not used to such things.”

 

“Hardly an excuse,” Lyrna said, holding out her hand as Benten handed her the sword, an Asraelin blade, as befit the occasion. “For a Sword of the Realm to refer to himself as a sergeant. I profess myself shocked.”

 

His head snapped up in alarm, eyes widening at the sight of the sword. “Lord Marshal Al Travick,” she said, reversing the weapon to lay it across her forearm, handle first, “do you accept this sword offered by your queen?”

 

Behind Travick the Realm Guard were stirring in their ranks, less neat and well shaved as she remembered, but all uniformly hardened and possessed of the air of dangerous men. Dangerous I can use, she decided. Let them fight each other if they must, as long as they fight harder against the Volarians.

 

“I-I do, Highness,” Travick stammered.

 

“Then take it, my lord, and do get up.” His meaty, scarred hand closed on the sword-handle and he rose, holding it up with an expression of blank astonishment.

 

“It is my wish that the Realm Guard be reordered, Lord Marshal,” she went on, recapturing his attention and making him snap back into a soldierly posture, spine straight and eyes averted.

 

“Whatever my Queen commands.”

 

“A respect for the past is a good thing, but we cannot allow it to obstruct our purpose. Many proud regiments now retain mere fragments of their former complement or were wiped out completely. If I calculate correctly, there are little over six thousand Realm Guard under your command, many of them holding to regimental ties that no longer have meaning. Of those regiments still remaining only three can truly be called such, and even they are greatly reduced in number. You will bring these up to full complement and divide the remaining men into three new regiments, their names and banners to be determined by the men, subject to my approval. Also you will add Lord Nortah’s company to the Realm Guard roster as the Sixtieth Regiment of Foot.”

 

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