Heritage of Cyador (The Saga of Recluce, #18)

Just after dawn on fiveday morning, Lerial and his three companies leave the headquarters post and begin the ride south along the shore road toward South Post and South Point. The latest reports from Subcommander Dhresyl indicate that the Heldyans have moved to a point some three kays north of the Harbor Post, but show no signs of an imminent attack on Swartheld, and that more merchanters have ported at the tileworks, although scouts report those vessels to be carrying mounts.

The more Lerial thinks about the situation, the angrier he finds himself getting. Afrit, as a land, is wealthier than either Cigoerne or Heldya, and it has more people. Its merchants are richer, and yet they have watched Duke Khesyn build up forces and done little. The only mages or wizards in Afrit appear to be a handful controlled by the merchanters. So now, Lerial and his Lancers have to find a way to counter as many as a half-score, if not more, wizards, because Atroyan was too weak to control his own merchanters. If Lerial fails, Afrit will be weakened, perhaps enough to fall, and then, sooner or later, Cigoerne. To top it all off, someone among the merchanters, or perhaps more than one, is a traitor and has created explosions designed to leave Afrit leaderless and crippled. Lerial also can’t help but wonder just what the traitor had used. Cammabark is certainly the most likely possibility, although there are other explosive powders, but none of the others are as easy to obtain … and thus, cammabark is the hardest to trace.

As Lerial and his forces approach South Post, across the bay to the east, the sky above the gray eastern shore and the buildings beyond it is beginning to brighten when an Afritan Guard undercaptain, flanked by two rankers and followed by two others, rides toward the Mirror Lancer force.

“Lord Lerial!” calls out the undercaptain. “We’re here to escort you.”

Lerial motions for the undercaptain to join him on the left. Kusyl rides on his right.

“Subcommander Drusyn has his command post in a warehouse on the shore road a half kay west of the Heldyan perimeter. He’d like to meet with you there, ser.”

“We can do that,” Lerial acknowledges. “Tell me what you know about their forces.”

“It’s hard to tell, ser. They’ve been using the stones of the old fort to build walls. If we try to get close, they throw that chaos-fire at us. They must have five battalions there.”

“How many mounted?”

“Not many. Two or three companies at the most, and they arrived late yesterday after the Heldyans turned some of their flatboats into a pier of sorts.”

That makes sense. “Did they try to land more men during the night?”

“Not that we could see.”

“Have you lost many men?”

“Not too many, ser. The subcommander’s had us stay behind walls and houses. If they leave the open places, we can cut them down, but we can’t attack much because of their chaos-bolts.”

Although Lerial asks more questions, he doesn’t learn much more than there is a temporary stalemate of sorts before they rein up outside an oblong three-story stone warehouse and factorage, with a simple name on the sign over the narrow entrance—Whyppel. The upper windows are closed with salt-bleached gray shutters. Across the shore road from the warehouse and factorage is a stone pier. Unsurprisingly, there are no boats or vessels tied there.

Lerial dismounts and turns to Kusyl. “Have the men stand down, but ready to mount when I return.”

“Yes, ser.”

Then Lerial, shields ready, walks into the factorage, where he sees Drusyn standing over a counter on which maps are spread.

The subcommander straightens. “Good to see you, Overcaptain. Especially with what’s facing us.”

Lerial halts and looks at the maps for a moment, then asks, “Have they landed more men since last evening?”

“One flatboat’s worth … for now. They’ll tow more boats upstream. Then it will start all over again.”

“How successful have you been in trying to burn their temporary pier?”

Drusyn shakes his head. “We’ve tried fire arrows, but they have men wetting it down all the time. I’ve posted archers to the south along the river. They’ve had some success in targeting flatboats with armsmen, but the last few flatboats before dark yesterday came with shields. They can’t have that many, though. So once they offload, they push back into the current and angle for the east shore. They’ve got a galley out there, and they tow the empty boat to the shore. Whether they just use a wagon to take the shields back to the next boat or tow that boat back upstream I couldn’t say.”

“It sounds like your archers are slowing their reinforcements.”

“Slowing, but that won’t help if we can’t attack and wipe out a good portion of the men they’ve already landed.”

“Before they land more.”

The subcommander nods.

“Do you know how many chaos-wizards they have?”

“More than one. Might be three. I don’t think it’s as many as four.”

Lerial asks more questions, letting Drusyn reply, until he has a better idea of where the Heldyans are and how Drusyn’s forces are deployed. Finally, he steps back from the counter.

“What do you plan?” asks the subcommander.

“To see what we can do to remove the chaos-wizards and allow your men to attack without that distraction. How?” Lerial shrugs. “That will depend on them.”

Modesitt, L. E., Jr.'s books