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

“The last part of the battle was harder than I’d thought it would be.” And that’s an understatement.

Rhamuel shakes his head. “It just keeps getting worse.” He offers a brief and sardonic smile. “Dwelling on that won’t resolve it. Tell us what happened in the north—as you saw it, and how you ended up unconscious.”

The way the arms-commander has phrased his inquiry tells Lerial that Rhamuel has his doubts about whatever Dhresyl has already reported.

“The Mirror Lancers and I made the first attack on sevenday…” Lerial describes what he and the Lancers did on both days. The only matter about which he is less than forthcoming is how he dealt with the chaos-wizards, merely saying that he was able to turn their chaos back on them and continuing, “I wasn’t completely successful, because some of it came back at me and part of the Mirror Lancers. The blow knocked me out, and I lost one officer and fifty men, with fifteen wounded. My squad leaders and undercaptains had to finish the fight.”

“Commander Dhresyl indicated you and your men defeated three battalions,” says Sammyl.

“More like five, according to my officers and several of the commander’s majers. That doesn’t count the battalion or so on sevenday.”

“That sounds about right,” interjects Rhamuel before Sammyl can speak. “Is there anything else we should know?”

“Commander Dhresyl has close to a thousand prisoners. Most are wounded. One mounted battalion managed to withdraw to a merchanter at the tileworks and had set sail. They left almost three hundred mounts. Commander Dhresyl and I questioned a wounded Heldyan majer. He was most adamant that we would pay for the way we slaughtered Khesyn’s troops … and that Khesyn had more than enough battalions in reserve to do so.”

“How could he after…?” Sammyl does not say more.

“After what we’ve been through, anything is possible,” suggests Rhamuel. “Khesyn has been planning this for a long time.”

Lerial notices that neither man mentions the amount of treason that has occurred, but that’s not something he wants to bring up before Sammyl. Instead, he says, “I would recommend getting a scouting report as to how many merchanters might be tied up or anchored off Estheld, and if anyone has seen more flatboats on the river. Khesyn would need ships or boats or both to get enough men here. If there aren’t many merchanters, we might have some time before the next attack.”

“If there even is one,” comments Sammyl.

“Do you think that, if he has that many more armsmen, they are already attacking Shaelt?” Rhamuel’s tone is almost matter-of-fact.

“I doubt it. I would judge that the attack on Shaelt is to keep you from moving more of your forces to defend Swartheld.”

“Commander,” says Rhamuel, “I’d appreciate it if you’d make arrangements to find out about boats and merchanters right now.”

Sammyl stiffens. “Yes, ser.”

Rhamuel smiles indulgently. “I’m not plotting or planning to replace you. I am worried that Khesyn might try another attack. If there aren’t any ships to speak of at Estheld and no sign of flatboats on the river, we can rest easier … at least for a little while. That would be good to know.”

Sammyl nods, then leaves.

Once the door closes, Lerial says, “He’s worried.”

“He’s worried? After all the treachery … and the assassination of Subcommander Drusyn…” Rhamuel shakes his head.

“Any word on Mykel?”

“Not a thing, but I wouldn’t expect anything for another day at the soonest, possibly two or three days if they made good time.”

And even longer if something untoward has occurred. “Are Haesychya and Kyedra back in the palace?”

“They’re still at Aenslem’s. I didn’t think we all should be together.” Rhamuel offers a sardonic smile. “I know. That blade cuts both ways, but since daughters cannot succeed as duke … who ever heard of a duchess?”

“There have been empresses…”

“Your grandmere was the only one who actually ruled, I believe.” Rhamuel laughs softly. “If she had been the ruler earlier, we might not even be here together. You’d be in Cyad worrying about things that no one will worry about again for centuries … and I’d likely be dead.”

“Have you heard from Maesoryk?”

“Should I have?”

“I can’t believe that the Heldyans landed at his tileworks without his involvement.” There is something else about Maesoryk, but Lerial cannot remember what it might be, just a vague feeling that something else ties Maesoryk to the treachery. You’re too tired to think as clearly as you should.

“Neither can I. But I haven’t heard.”

“Has anyone seen Dafaal?”

“You didn’t hear? The palace guards found his body in the lower cellars. He’d been garroted. They also found fuses and a striker.”

“He was either part of the plot … or someone wants you to think he was.”

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