Already? Fhaet must have sent an urgent message with a fast horse and rider, Lerial realizes. That tempers his reply. “The majer is partly correct. I did not make our maneuvers clear to all your officers, but only to the captain of the nearest company. The majer is perhaps excessively cautious, since after I was stunned, there was only one single small chaos-bolt launched.”
“You did not return to the fight, later, then?”
“Subcommander…” Lerial takes a slow deep breath. “My head is splitting. I can barely see. The effect of trying to redirect chaos leaves few marks—unless one fails, and then there are no marks at all, just a pile of ashes. Attempting something that would have turned me into ashes would scarcely benefit either Afrit or Cigoerne. We did destroy a good battalion’s worth of Heldyans, the pier and two flatboats. Perhaps I’ve missed something, but I haven’t seen either much effort or much in the way of results from the Afritan Guard so far.”
“We do not have your skills.”
“That is true, but it is your land and your city.” Before Drusyn can say more, Lerial continues, knowing he has once again antagonized the subcommander. But you’re hurting and angry, and if it weren’t so critical in terms of stopping the Heldyans quickly, you wouldn’t even be here. Either in Afrit or Swartheld … or talking to Drusyn. “Tomorrow, weather permitting, we will attack again, with the goal of removing the last chaos-wizard here. If we are successful, you and your men will be totally responsible for dealing with the Heldyan armsmen.”
“While you take another half day to … recover?” Drusyn doesn’t conceal the edge to his voice.
“No. So that the Mirror Lancers and I can ride north, hopefully before the four or more chaos-wizards that are moving toward the Harbor Post inflict too much damage on Subcommander Dhresyl’s forces—those remaining after the traitor-caused explosion that killed Commander Nythalt and injured or killed more than two battalions of Afritan Guards. You might not have heard, but I was with Twenty-third Company when we were the ones to discover the forces landing north of Swartheld at the tileworks. We managed to destroy a battalion of them, perhaps more, before they mustered four chaos-wizards and three more battalions, but that was enough to delay them a day or more.”
Drusyn’s mouth almost opens. He is silent for several moments. Then he says quietly, “You did not mention any of that.”
Even though his head is still pounding, if slightly more dully, Lerial offers a wry smile. “No. That’s another thing I forgot to mention, but I didn’t know you didn’t know. I’m not in your chain of command.” What Lerial feels he cannot mention is that he would have felt rather strange telling Norstaan and Rhamuel what to put in the arms-commander’s orders to his senior officers, and in all the confusion following the explosion at the palace and Rhamuel’s injuries, Lerial wonders what else he should have written or had conveyed … and whether conveying in writing what he did would have been a good idea in the first place—if he’d even have thought of it … which he hadn’t.
“I hadn’t thought about that,” Drusyn admits. He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” replies Lerial. “I trust you can see that I’m not trying to avoid things or leave you in an impossible situation, but the arms-commander felt that if the Mirror Lancers and I could act quickly here and remove the worst threats, then you could contain and handle the Heldyans, while everyone else tries to stop the larger force to the north.”
“That makes sense…”
“But we didn’t spell it out. Part of that was because of the arms-commander’s injuries. Now that Commander Sammyl is there, communications should improve.” Not that you’re at all convinced of that.
“How badly is he injured?”
“He’s bruised all over, and his left leg is broken. He has no feeling in his legs and cannot move them. He’s well in control of himself,” at least when we left, “and is using the undamaged west part of the palace as his headquarters.”
“But … he is likely the heir … and if he is so damaged…”
“He may recover. Sometimes people do.” Most don’t, but that problem can wait. “But, if we don’t stop the Heldyans, it won’t matter who will succeed who as duke.”
“Not everyone is likely to feel that way,” Drusyn points out.
“Those who are more concerned about who rules might be the best ones to look at in search of the traitor who blew up the palace … and the Harbor Post.” And spreading that idea might put a damper on some of the maneuvering for power among the merchanters.
“You really don’t think…?”
“Who else? The only people who have the resources to do that are merchanters. Most likely whoever set it up corrupted someone in the palace and an officer in the Afritan Guard. In turn, they might have been promised great gains by Duke Khesyn if he is successful in conquering Afrit. Even if he is not, he’s weakened Afrit, and it costs him little.”
“You don’t have a high opinion of our merchanters, do you?”
Do you, really? “Not your merchanters … any merchanters, including those in Cigoerne. Merchanters are necessary. Most necessary, but trusting them blindly is unwise.”