The officers all stiffen as Commander Sammyl enters the salon, although Sammyl immediately orders, “As you were. Take your seats.”
By the time Sammyl reaches the end of the salon and turns, all the officers are seated and waiting. The commander offers a bleak smile. “Yesterday was interesting. I don’t like interesting days. Neither does the arms-commander. For your information, and so that everyone understands…” Sammyl pauses. “The verified Heldyan casualties consist of three hundred and twelve dead, sixty wounded, and one hundred prisoners. The prisoners were largely captured by Overcaptain Lerial’s companies. One disturbing matter is that at least one company, possibly more, of the attackers was made up of Tourlegyn warriors … even if they wore Heldyan blue. The number of Heldyans and Tourlegyns killed in the chaos-explosions here at Lubana and at the piers of Luba cannot be determined. The lookouts report that more than fifteen flatboats were destroyed, and most boats carried fifty armsmen. Those are, of course, estimates. The Heldyan death toll is likely less than that because a good three boats’ worth of advance troopers had vacated the boats at Luba before the explosions.”
Captain Waell glances toward Lerial, his eyes wide.
“Given the high death toll among the Heldyan attackers, the arms-commander has determined that an increased risk to Swartheld and the cities and towns north of here exists.” Sammyl pauses and takes a breath, as if for emphasis. “Therefore, Subcommander Drusyn and his battalions will depart for Swartheld on fiveday, saving the wounded, who will recover here. One of Subcommander Ascaar’s battalions—Sixteenth—will remain at Lubana, under Majer Chorazt, while the subcommander and Fifteenth Battalion will depart Lubana to return to Shaelt on sixday, again saving the wounded.”
Trust Sammyl to place the blame for danger on you. Despite that thought, Lerial maintains a pleasant expression, if not a smiling one.
“Whether Overcaptain Lerial’s companies will remain here is a matter being considered by the arms-commander, and, of course, is at the sufferance of Duke Kiedron. At present, scouts and lookouts have determined that only three flatboats remain at the piers in Vyada.” Sammyl pauses, then asks, “Do any of you have anything to add to what I’ve said? Or any questions?”
When none of the other officers speak, Lerial smiles and says, “The only observation I might make is that there were no mounts whatever on any of the flatboats we encountered. Perhaps I am not well acquainted with Heldyan tactics as practiced north of Cigoerne, but in the south most Heldyan incursions have included some mounted units. I was wondering if either Subcommander Drusyn or Subcommander Ascaar encountered any mounted forces or saw any horses.”
“An interesting observation, Overcaptain.” Sammyl glances at Drusyn.
“We did not encounter any mounted units,” replies Drusyn. “They did not disembark all their flatboats. There may have been horses on some.”
“Every last Heldyan got off the boats, and those that survived got back on,” says Ascaar flatly. “Not a horse in sight.”
“Thank you, subcommanders,” Sammyl says so quickly that Lerial could not have replied, even had he been so minded, which he is not. “Now … I will be meeting separately with the battalion commanders shortly…” For the next quarter glass, Sammyl goes over such matters as possible changes to battalion departures from Lubana should the weather change, arrangements for the wounded once they recover or must be invalided out of service, and arrangements for rations for travel north.
Finally, he smiles and says, “If there is nothing else, you all may return to your duties.”
Lerial rises with the other officers, but does not hurry to leave the salon. Neither does Ascaar, and the two walk out together, leaving the salon empty, except for Captain Waell, who, as usual, directs a pair of rankers in rearranging the chairs and settees.
Lerial notices that Sammyl and Valatyr are headed toward the private dining room, and he wonders what they might be discussing. So, as he and Ascaar reach the stairs to the upper levels on the north wing, he pauses. “Go ahead. I’ll see you later.”
“Later it will be. Much later,” says Ascaar. “It appears as though I have more to do than I’d thought.” The older officer starts up the white marble steps.
“Don’t we always?”
Ascaar laughs.
Lerial turns and heads back toward the main hall, pausing by an alcove that is mostly shadowed. When he is sure no one is around, he raises a concealment and then walks as quietly as he can toward the private dining chamber, slipping through the open archway and moving toward the far end of the table where Sammyl and Valatyr are sitting. Valatyr is seated so that he can observe the archway, but the subcommander shows no sign of having penetrated Lerial’s concealment.
“… you think of the overcaptain’s observation?” asks Sammyl.
“He’s very observant,” returns Valatyr.