“No one would ever call me delicate,” rejoined Mykella. “On a good day, they might call me slender.” Her eyes went to the north side of the pavement, where the stone gutters were still carrying water, if not quite up to the edges.
Rachylana nodded, then ventured, “You know Salyna can’t see the green, or the purple, and it really bothers her.” She eased her chestnut closer to Mykella’s gray.
“I know. That’s why it’s better if we don’t talk about it.”
“I shouldn’t,” said Rachylana in a low voice. “I know that. But … sometimes, she gets so … uppity, about arms and her scullery women. I just want to remind her that there are things she can’t see or do.”
“Why? That just upsets her.”
“What about me? You’re the Lady-Protector, and you have some of the powers of an Ancient. She’s better with weapons than most of the Southern Guards, and she knows it, and they know it. All I can do is look pretty and arrange entertainment and season-turn balls.”
“You’re running the palace as well.”
“Any woman can do that.” Rachylana snorted.
No … just any intelligent, well-brought-up, and responsible woman who understands how palaces work. Mykella kept that thought to herself because she understood exactly what Rachylana had meant, even if her sister hadn’t quite said it. “What else do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t want to be matched and sent off.”
“I said that was up to you.” Mykella also refrained from pointing out that a season ago, Rachylana had been most interested in being married off, if only to her worthless cousin Berenyt.
They rode more than a hundred yards without speaking, nearing the eastern end of the Great Piers, still almost empty, with but three barges and two rivercraft tied there. One barge looked to be riding low, as if it had taken on water, but Mykella didn’t see anyone bailing or pumping out water.
Finally, Rachylana said, “Mykel the Great was like you, wasn’t he? Having Talent like a soarer, I mean?”
“From the stories and the records, he could do more than I can. He was also a great battle leader, and the Seltyrs listened to every word he said.”
“Mykella … you’re still young.”
“I know that.” Too young to be a truly effective ruler … at least in the eyes of most of the Seltyrs in Tempre. Most probably still think of me as a child.
“Who knows what you’ll be able to do?”
If I can survive Ifrits and invasions and intrigues … and doubting Seltyrs and factors … and who knows what else. “It gets harder in some ways. The more you learn, the more you realize that what you can do isn’t always what you should do, much as you want to.”
“Is that a polite way to tell me that reminding Salyna what she can’t see isn’t a good idea?”
“I wasn’t thinking of that. I was thinking about being polite to that overstuffed First Seltyr. Or to that idiot Klevytr…”
“Oh … Mykella.” Rachylana shook her head. “They’re only men.”
“They can still make things hard on people.” And they act as though they’re so superior even when they’ve done something stupid.
As they headed up Factors’ Street past several two-story dwellings that had seen better days, Mykella noted that more windows were boarded up than had been the last time she had ridden this way. Ahead, several youngsters crowded onto the rickety balcony of a dwelling almost without stain or paint on its gray and weathered siding. One pointed toward the riders.
Mykella used her Talent to try to hear what the three were saying.
“… those are Southern Guards…”
“… two women…”
“… little one is the Lady-Protector, I’d wager … wearing black … say she always wears black…”
“… say she’s part soarer…”
Mykella tried not to wince at that, especially recalling her encounter with the “others.”
“… too big to be a soarer…”
“… how would you know?”
“… I know…”
“No, you don’t … don’t know anything…”
Mykella smiled at the last part of the interchange as the three forgot the riders and began to argue more furiously among themselves.
Rachylana glanced at Mykella, then back toward the balcony that they had just passed. “Did you hear what they were arguing about?”
“Some of it. Each of them was trying to prove she was right.”
“Was that why you were smiling?”
“Yes. I can remember when we argued like that.”
For a time, Rachylana was silent. Finally, she said, “Maybe we don’t argue because we’re each right in our own way.”
Right in our own way? “What do you mean?”
“We don’t see things the same way. You see things in terms of Talent and golds. Salyna sees them more in terms of arms. I see them in the way people manipulate each other.”
I certainly see the manipulation … “I think you’re talking about what motivates people to try to get their way. How do you see things differently?” Even from the street, looking to her left, through the lanes leading to the South River, Mykella could see that the South River was running near flood stage but not high enough to overtop its banks. Most likely there would be even more destruction where the towpath had already been damaged … and greater repair costs.
Two laborers lugged pails of what looked to be water and mud up a set of cellar steps from the side door of a tinsmith’s shop. How many cellars were flooded? Did that happen when the gutters overflowed because the sewers needed repairs? She needed to ask Nusgeyl about that.
“Most people aren’t like you and Salyna,” Rachylana said. “You have power. People have to react to you. Salyna has a different kind of power. People want to make you look bad because they can’t challenge you directly. They start rumors; they try to steal things in ways that they won’t get caught to get golds because that’s another kind of power. Or like Cheleyza … they set things up so you look bad. She tried to get you to wear a ball gown that would have made you look ridiculous. Then she pretended you’d hurt her when you rejected her ‘help,’ and Father made you apologize to her. That made her feel superior.”
“I’m sure it did. I hated having to do that. She gloried in it, and we both pretended it was nothing, and she gloated the whole time behind that false smile of the concerned aunt.”
“She was always false, but she wasn’t weak.” Rachylana shook her head. “She could manipulate Uncle Joramyl and Berenyt. That’s a kind of power. Me … I don’t have that kind of power, or power like you or Salyna.”
“You’re as strong as Salyna, and you ride every bit as well as she does.”
“I’m not as interested in intimidating men.”
Mykella turned in the saddle and looked at her sister. “So far as I can see, women who aren’t strong tend to end up as worn-out floor mats. Why do you think so many women wanted to become auxiliaries? They didn’t have our advantages.”
“Our advantages? What…” Rachylana broke off as she looked at Mykella. After a moment, she said, “When you look like that…”
“What?”
Rachylana shook her head.
Just as you think she’s beginning to understand … We do have advantages that other women don’t. Not the advantages that men have … Not yet. Mykella squared herself in the saddle ever so slightly.
She still needed to see what other damage the latest storm had done.
38
Although Mykella had spent much of Decdi, before and after her ride, writing replies to petitions, she’d also studied maps of western Lanachrona and wrestled with the dark green of the depths, with slightly greater success—in that she began to be able to channel the darkness, not just the lighter green that glowed but the darker green, upward and around her as far as the Table chamber. The surprising aspect was that, as she had gotten more proficient, it was less tiring. Then again, Salyna had s
aid that working with blades got easier as skill improved.
Her first task on Londi morning, after dressing, was to check the Table. There was little notable about what most of those she surveyed were doing … except for Cheleyza. Her aunt was riding, wearing the dark green cavalry uniform. To her right was her brother Chalcaer, and to her left, also in uniform, was Paelyt. Chalcaer’s face was expressionless, but Mykella felt that the Prince of Northcoast was less than pleased. Or are you seeing what you want to see?
Mykella concentrated on trying to get an image from farther away and was rewarded with a view of part of a column of riders following the three. From the light and the shadows, the column was riding south on an eternastone highway through an evergreen forest. That—and the fact that Mykella’s previous observations on Decdi had not shown Cheleyza riding, but in her chamber—suggested that the Northcoast forces were still fairly far north, possibly only having left Harmony that morning or sometime late the day before.
When she reached her study after breakfast, Mykella immediately wrote Areyst about Cheleyza and Chalcaer. She also added a separate missive saying that she very much looked forward to his presence at the season-turn ball, as she was certain did most of the Seltyrs. Then she summoned Maeltor, informed him of what she had learned, and gave him the two messages to be sent to Areyst in Viencet.
Before long, she’d received another message from Engineer Nusgeyl, this one noting that the rains of the previous tenday had resulted in more damage to the sewers, especially to the storm drains, and that towpath repairs would be delayed for likely a week—unless he could hire another crew. That would likely cost fifty golds.
Fifty golds you can spare more than having the towpath unusable now that season-turn and the time of more traders on the river is approaching.
She sent back a message telling him to hire the crew.
Then she looked at the master ledger again, not that she hadn’t known already how tight matters were getting. She’d had to advance Salyna more golds for additional weapons, supplies, and mounts, but those had come from her “personal” funds as Lady-Protector. Most would have thought her foolish for letting Salyna train the women; but something told Mykella it was anything but foolhardy, although she wouldn’t have wanted to explain why. But then, for the moment, she didn’t have to.
Cerlyk hadn’t heard from Forester Loryalt, but the assistant forester insisted that Loryalt would be in Tempre before long because he always stayed close to his schedule. Mykella forbore asking what the Forestry Ministry meant by “close.”
Abruptly, Mykella stood and walked to the window. From there, she looked out across the courtyard, beyond the park, at the roofs and streets and lanes of Tempre. There was so much to do … and doubtless so many things she didn’t know enough about to know they had to be done—from the management of forestry lands to the Southern Guards.
At that thought, she walked back to the study door, opened it, and stepped out into the anteroom, looking at Chalmyr. “I’d like to see Captain Maeltor … at his earliest convenience.”
“Yes, Lady.”
Less than a half glass later, the captain stepped into her study, inclining his head respectfully. “You sent for me, Lady?”
Mykella could sense wariness behind the pleasant words.
“I did. I wanted your thoughts about several matters. Please sit down.”
Maeltor’s concerns did not abate as he settled stiffly into the middle chair of the three facing the desk, sitting on only the front half of the seat.
“Captain … I assume you have been watching, at least part of the time, the training and the progress of the auxiliaries.”
“Yes, I have, Lady-Protector.”
“While it is early, I would be interested in your thoughts about how that training is progressing.”
Maeltor offered an embarrassed smile. “I have never attempted to train women, Lady.”
“You don’t think the training is going well, then?”
“No … it is not that. In the Southern Guards, the first weeks of training are handled by a senior squad leader with great experience. Your sister—Undercaptain Salyna—is doing the direct instruction. She asks many questions of the two squad leaders who are assisting her, but she decides and leads.”
“And?”
“It is different.” Maeltor shook his head. “None of the women object or even put off chores or hateful duties. They all do the exercises—”
“All of them?”
The captain smiled. “On the first day, two women objected. The undercaptain picked one up and threw her into a pile of manure, then told her to leave. The other pretended to obey, then tried to use a pitchfork as a lance. The undercaptain disarmed her and slit her throat.”
Mykella swallowed. That was a side of Salyna she’d thought might have been there, but she’d never seen it.
“She was right to do that. She had to, because assaulting an officer merits death, but that is one reason why senior squad leaders handle the training of Southern Guard recruits.”
“How did the other guards take that?”
“Undercaptain Bursuin asked Undercaptain Salyna to spar with him with sabers. He is somewhat taller, a good stone heavier. She disarmed him quickly. No one has said anything since.”
“You said that the training was different.”
“The undercaptain has the women working more glasses, and they spend more time on physical exercises. That is wise, because, with the exception of your sister and four or five women from herding or laboring families, most do not have the strength in their arms and shoulders that is best for handing weapons. She does not drill them as much, and she started them on riding work on the second day. The undercaptain works harder than any junior officer.”
Mykella nodded.
“You do not look surprised, Lady-Protector.”
“What Southern Guard officer would respect her if she did not do so? She would be regarded as not having earned the rank and having been given it because she is my sister.”
Maeltor smiled. “That was what the Arms-Commander said.”
“I don’t believe you answered my question about how their training is coming along.”
“It is too early to say.” Maeltor paused. “If they continue as they have, they will be of great value to the Guards. Some, perhaps more than a few, show signs that they could hold their own in battle; but part of that would depend on how well they fight as a unit.”
“Fight?” asked Mykella.
“The undercaptain is training them to fight as well as for other duties. We will be outnumbered if all the coastal princes attack. I think the undercaptain would have the auxiliaries prepared for all possibilities.”
“How do the other guards feel about that?”
“Many doubted until they watched the undercaptain. Now they just watch. The senior squad leaders will say nothing. They never do until recruits survive their first skirmish or fight.”
“And you?
“I hope that the undercaptain is successful. One can never have enough trained troopers when one goes into battle.”
“Diplomatically said, Captain,” observed Mykella.
“I fear not, Lady. It is only what I believe.”
“Do we have enough brimstone?”
“We could use more, but we always can because there is none to be found in Lanachrona, and the factors are not always reliable in obtaining it.”
“Are there certain factors who usually provide it?”
“Seltyr Thaen and the First Seltyr obtain most of it.”
Not exactly what you wanted to hear. “Is there anything else needed?”
“I am certain that Arms-Commander Areyst would know that far better than I, Lady.”
Mykella laughed. “You’re both loyal and diplomatic.” She rose. “Thank you very much for your observations. I could have seen everything you have seen and still not known what it meant.”
Maeltor was on his feet before Mykella had finished the first t
wo words. “I’m pleased that I could be of service.”
“You’ve always been of service, Captain, long before I even knew who you were, and I do appreciate it. I won’t keep you longer.”
“Thank you, Lady.” Maeltor flushed slightly, but bowed, then turned and left the study.
Mykella stood there for several moments, thinking.
What the captain had said about being outnumbered brought home again the fact that the Southern Guards was too small to effectively protect Lanachrona against a coalition of enemies. Had it always been that way … and just not recognized? Were the times changing? What could she do about it? Significantly higher tariffs would weaken the land as much as a Southern Guards that was outnumbered.
More important … what could she do personally?
She walked to the window, once more, and looked out, not really seeing anything.
39
Mykella looked up from the master Finance ledger as Chalmyr rapped on the door. She’d canceled the ministers’ meeting. What was the point when she was acting minister for two ministries, when Areyst was gone, and Cerlyk had little to report? She’d spent the morning checking the Table in more detail, then dealing with petitions, and questions of disbursements with Haelyt, and she still felt behind.
Chalmyr opened the door slightly. “Lady-Protector, this just arrived by Guard messenger. It’s from Arms-Commander Areyst.”
“Thank you.” Mykella rose and took the sealed envelope from the scrivener.
Once Chalmyr had closed the study door, she smiled. Unlike some ministers, Areyst was prompt. Here it was early on Duadi afternoon, and she had a reply to her message of the day before. Abruptly, she frowned. Was it? She was assuming … Quickly, she slit the envelope and extracted the single sheet, beginning to read the spare but elegant script.
Lady-Protector—
I am in receipt of your message of Londi, eightweek of spring, with the information on the progress of the forces departing Harmony. It would appear unlikely that those forces could reach the border of Lanachrona before the second week of summer. If you discover anything that would change that date, I would greatly appreciate knowing it.
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