Lerial takes the quiet time while the girls eat to finish his own breakfast, suspecting that he would rather not be caught with a mouthful of food during whatever is coming after the girls leave the breakfast room.
Once Ryalah and Amaira have departed, Kiedron clears his throat. “You all realize that Lerial will have to be the one to head the force we send to Luba.”
“What about Lephi?” asks Emerya politely.
“Lerial is better suited to this.” Kiedron glances at Xeranya, then continues. “Because of what happened in Verdheln … and Ensenla, Lerial has more experience in avoiding great losses if he must deal with overwhelming forces. There is also the considerable problem of timing. Lerial can reach Luba almost in the time it would take Lephi to get to Cigoerne, and that doesn’t include the time for the fastest dispatch rider to get to Sudstrym. I doubt we can afford almost an additional two eightdays.”
Lerial can sense that, while his father is telling the truth, if exaggerating the time for dispatch riders, it is likely that there are other things he is not saying at all, but what those might be, Lerial has no idea.
“Should you go?” asks Emerya.
Lerial knows that those are not questions Emerya would normally ask. Why is she doing it? After just an instant’s thought, he realizes just why. Father asked her to.
“If I go … then there is too much temptation for Khesyn to attack with an even larger force at Luba, and there is too great a risk that even I could not save Atroyan. I suspect that is exactly what Khesyn hopes for. With Lephi at Sudstrym, Cigoerne is much less vulnerable.”
“That is if you remain in Cigoerne … or near it,” concludes Emerya.
“I still don’t like it,” says Xeranya. “How will Lephi get any experience in dealing with Atroyan?”
“He’ll be getting more experience in dealing with Khesyn’s forces, and they’re going to be the far greater danger in the future.” Kiedron looks to Lerial. “Because of the timing, you’ll need to take Eighth and Eleventh Company. You can also take Kusyl’s Twenty-third Company. You’ve worked with him before. That will give you three companies. Commander Jhalet can pull together enough lancers to protect the palace, until another new company can be formed and trained.”
“Are we spread that thin?” Lerial has his doubts.
“We’ve been forced to place more than fifteen companies along the Swarth to deal with Heldyan raiders,” admits Kiedron. “There are another ten companies across the northern border west of Ensenla, and that doesn’t count the fifteen companies of Verdyn Lancers keeping Casseon in check, nor the various outposts throughout the duchy. We can likely pull some of the northern companies now, but that will take time.”
Almost fifty companies … and they’re not enough? When we had less than twenty six years ago? And you feel you can only spare three companies to aid Atroyan? Three companies—not enough to weaken Cigoerne if you lose—and enough to strike fear into both Khesyn and Atroyan if you win. That assumes that there will be any fighting at all, and it’s possible that there will not be … but then again.
“Khesyn has been raising armsmen for ten years now, and that doesn’t count what he pays the raiders to attack us.”
Lerial nods. He had no idea matters are that dire.
Little more is said other than pleasantries, few as they are, for the remainder of breakfast, and, as he stands and leaves, Lerial ponders over the clearly scripted exchange between Emerya and his father. Why had his father felt it necessary? Did his mother really want Lephi … or even his father … to go to Luba?
Lerial suspects she had … and that bothers him. Still, his father has brought up the issue before most of the family, and Lerial has no doubts that he is being sent because he is the most expendable, and because sending an heir, even the most junior, allows his father not to commit more Mirror Lancers. His father also expects him to use his order-chaos skills, if discreetly.
After deciding to wait in the north courtyard until Commander Jhalet arrives, Lerial makes his way into the early-morning sunshine there.
“Lerial!” Ryalah runs toward him, then stops and walks the last yards much more sedately, allowing Amaira to join her. “Why did Mother get so angry? I just asked.”
“I still think it’s awful that no one wants to consort you,” adds Amaira shyly. “Why can’t you consort Rojana?”
“What gave you that idea?” asks Lerial, half amused and half concerned … and wondering where Amaira came up with that idea.
“When she and her father and mother visited the palace last year. We talked, both of us. She talked a lot about you.”
They visited last year … and no one told me? “They were here?”
“Just for a day,” replies Amaira. “I thought you knew.”
“Perhaps Father mentioned it, and it just skipped my mind.”
“Rojana’s very nice,” says Ryalah.
“She’s very intelligent and very attractive,” Lerial admits. “But it wouldn’t be a good thing for her to consort me.”
“So you’ll have to consort whoever Father says?”
“Most likely.”