“You save that … and I’ll make you duke…” The woman does not quite cackle as the two move farther back in the factorage.
Lerial makes his way to the front door, drops the concealment, opens the door, and then slips outside, closing the door as gently as he can, before turning and walking briskly back toward the headquarters post.
The rest of the morning and the early afternoon he spends going over equipment and preparing the spare weapons—those recovered from the field and from casualties—and switching out poorer or damaged blades being used by various lancers with better ones, as well as going over details of the forthcoming trip to Lake Jhulyn with Strauxyn and obtaining a map from Dhallyn of the area. He is almost relieved when a messenger arrives in midafternoon, requesting his presence at the palace.
Kusyl sends his First Squad as Lerial’s escort, and as they ride through the streets leading to the palace, Lerial does notice a few mourning drapes hung here and there, almost haphazardly, and he wonders whether all the merchanters’ buildings near the harbor will hang the drapes, not that he intends to take time to make a special trip to see.
He has barely dismounted outside the palace stables when an officer in an Afritan Guard uniform—Ascaar—hurries across the courtyard to meet him.
Lerial grins. “You made a fast trip from Shaelt.”
“Commander Sammyl indicated all deliberate speed, but apparently it wasn’t necessary. I heard that you dealt with the Heldyans all by yourself … something about turning Estheld into an inferno and destroying ships and men…”
“Matters worked out better than I’d hoped. Thankfully,” Lerial says. “We didn’t see your men riding by Guard headquarters.”
“I quartered them at South Post. It was almost empty … and that seemed better.”
“And you’d rather not deal with Dhresyl?”
“I had that thought. It appears that matters less now.” Ascaar glances toward the west wing of the palace. “I wanted to talk to you before we both meet with the duke. I only had a few moments with him. He said the rest could wait until you arrived. I gather he’s also still arms-commander as well.”
“I told him I thought he should be for a time yet.”
“You’ve told him a few things, I can tell.”
“Not just me. Merchanter Aenslem has as well.”
“You’re the one who’s given me more headaches than any old officer needs.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Insisted that I have field command of all Afritan Guard battalions.”
“I didn’t insist. I suggested.”
“Given who you are … it’s the same thing.”
That is indeed a chilling thought. Just who does he think I am? That is not a thought on which Lerial wishes to long dwell. “Given Sammyl or Dhresyl, would you want to serve under either in a fight? Would you want anyone else to?”
Ascaar offers a mock groan. “You would ask something like that.”
Lerial shrugs. “Better a Lancer officer who won’t be here long than an Afritan Guard officer who will.”
“We’d better get to the duke’s study and find out what he wants to tell us,” Ascaar says. “I doubt I want to know.”
Lerial almost asks, What else could happen?, but realizes even uttering those words is an invitation for another disaster to occur. “What else is new?”
Ascaar shakes his head.
Less than a tenth of a glass later, Lerial and Ascaar are seated before Rhamuel’s table desk in the receiving study, the door closed firmly behind them.
“As you both know,” Rhamuel says, “we need to clean up a few loose ends here in Afrit. Lerial has taken care of those dealing with Heldya, but the Afritan Guard needs restructuring. We also need quite a number of replacements, who will need training. That will have to be your immediate priority, Commander Ascaar.” The duke turns to Lerial. “The matter of my younger brother’s disappearance also needs attention, the sooner the better. When can you leave?”
“The first thing in the morning.”
“So soon?”
“We started making preparations as soon as you made your request.” Lerial smiles. “Some supplies, as well as reimbursement for supplies along the way … might be useful.”
Rhamuel offers a wry smile. “Draw what you need in travel supplies. You’ll have some golds before you leave.”
“Thank you, ser.”
“I’d best supply you. I wouldn’t want you imposing on my people. That wouldn’t be good, especially for a new duke.”
“What do you expect from us?” Lerial asks bluntly.
“To find Mykel. If you cannot do that, discover what happened to him and why, and deal with those that caused it to happen. If that is not possible, discover all you can about what Jhosef and Maesoryk have had to do with the Heldyan attack on Afrit.”
“And if you can’t do that,” adds Ascaar dryly, “leave the bastards shitless so that they won’t make more trouble.”
Rhamuel frowns, then abruptly shakes his head with a wry smile. “Becoming a full commander hasn’t changed you at all, Ascaar.”