Arms-Commander

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  She shook her head, then smiled ruefully as she considered the male lord-holders—and their sons—that she’d encountered. Maeldyn was the only one she’d found intelligent and perceptive enough for her, not that she was attracted to the outwardly stern lord. Yet…a plasterer and ostler she found more attractive than lord-holders?

  Saryn almost snorted. Given the lord-holders she’d met, Dealdron was more lordly than any of them, and probably more intelligent to boot, not to mention handsome and kind. He’d also kept learning from the time he had come to Westwind.

  As she neared the walls of Henstrenn’s keep, she extended her senses, trying to discern any activity beyond the stone barrier. Before long, she reined up a good half kay from the north walls and studied the keep. Even with her senses, she could detect no sign of formations or concentrations of men or horses. She had the feeling that, even if she remained watching all morning, she would neither see nor sense any such activity.

  Even so, she did watch as she rode westward to where she could see the lane down to the main road, then back to where she could see the other eastern lane that led down to the main road farther east, then to the town proper. There were no signs of activity or reinforcements.

  Finally, after another half glass, she rode back to the barns and the makeshift staging area, where she unsaddled and groomed the gelding before watching as Hryessa directed the newer guards in arms drills.

  Mid afternoon came, and when the latest report from the scouts continued to indicate that Henstrenn and his forces remained quiet behind the walls, Maeldyn requested that Zeldyan and Saryn join him and Spalkyn outside the stable that was far too small for all the horses.

  “Unless we press him,” began the dour-looking lord-holder, “Henstrenn is not going to leave his walls. I’d like to suggest that we burn down the small pearapple orchard closest to the eastern gates. That orchard isn’t that close to anything else.”

  “How many companies should we have standing by in case he does decide to attack?” asked Spalkyn.

  “I would suggest ours and those of Lady Zeldyan, with the commander’s forces ready to saddle up and ride out quickly, if need be.”

  “What do you suggest if he does not respond?” asked Zeldyan. “Staying here all harvest, fall, and winter?”

  “If need be,” replied Maeldyn mildly. “The alternative is far worse.”

  “We should at least try to provoke him,” said Spalkyn.

  “He will not respond,” Zeldyan replied.

  “That may be, but it will be an indication to his people of just how little he thinks of anything but himself.”

  They already should know that. They just haven’t ever been able to do anything about it. Saryn refrained from uttering the thought and merely nodded.

  “Then let it be done.” Zeldyan’s voice was weary. “I will order my armsmen up and join you.” She turned and walked away.

  Spalkyn nodded and headed away.

  Maeldyn looked at Saryn. “You said little, Commander.”

  “There was little to say.”

  “Might I ask your views?”

  “Torching the orchard will not persuade Henstrenn to do anything that is not in his interest or survival. It may be necessary to show that we gave warning, in order to placate those lord-holders who are not here.”

  “You do not have a high opinion of lord-holders, I fear.”

  “I have a much higher opinion of those with whom I ride,” Saryn countered.

  “Otherwise, you would not be riding with us, I suspect.”

  Saryn smiled and shrugged.

  Maeldyn laughed softly.

  “Until later.” Saryn turned and headed toward the barn.

  Again, Dealdron had the gelding saddled and ready for Saryn, and, once more, a half squad of guards were ready to escort her. This time, the escort was formed of women from first squad, and all bore bows as well.

  Saryn rode to the pearapple orchard with Zeldyan. The Westwind guards paralleled the first squad of the Lornian company, taking the shoulder of the dirt lane in single file, then reforming once Zeldyan and Saryn reined up.

  Saryn waited beside Zeldyan at the front of the Lornian company, as armsmen from Maeldyn’s squads put torches to the trees.

  It took two glasses in the still and hot harvest air before the last tree was nothing but a charred husk. The odor of charcoal, burned wood, and the fainter acrid scent of burned pearapples filled the late afternoon…but the gates of Duevek keep remained closed as Maeldyn, Spalkyn, Zeldyan, and Saryn watched.

  Once the fire had died away, Maeldyn and Spalkyn rode to join the two women.

  “It appears you were right,” offered Maeldyn.

  “I have the feeling that we could burn the entire countryside to ashes, and Henstrenn still wouldn’t leave his walls,” Saryn said.

  “Would any of you?” asked Zeldyan.

  “We’ll have to see what tomorrow brings,” Spalkyn said. “Henstrenn may reconsider matters after he has thought them over.”

  “Tomorrow won’t change anything,” Zeldyan replied tartly. “Henstrenn would sacrifice every man, woman, and child on his lands to save his skin.”

  “Especially with two women after him,” added Saryn.

  “Women have often been the downfall of men,” said Maeldyn pleasantly, “but you, Commander, have destroyed more than any single woman in the memory of Lornth, or possibly even in the time of Cyador before.”

  Saryn smiled politely in response to the mostly good-natured banter. “You might recall, Lord Maeldyn, that in every single instance, I was attacked first. In fact, Lord Henstrenn’s armsmen offered the very first attack on me when I came to see the regents in the spring. And we were under a parley banner.” She paused. “We women may forgive, but we never forget.”

  “Ever,” murmured Zeldyan, a sound so low and under her breath that Saryn suspected she was the only one to hear that single word.

  XC

  Another two days passed without anyone leaving the gates of Duevek keep, at least without anyone being observed. Saryn had no doubt a messenger or two had left under cover of darkness, and that concerned her, because each day that passed made the possibility of aid coming to Henstrenn more likely. Just before noon on threeday, with a blazing harvest sun beating down on the land, Maeldyn, Spalkyn, Zeldyan, and Saryn once more met, this time in the shade of the eaves of the larger barn.

  “He’s not going to fight us anytime soon.” Spalkyn frowned. “He knows we can’t break the walls. He’s wagering that we don’t have the supplies and patience to wait him out.”

  “We don’t have the armsmen to waste trying to scale the walls,” Maeldyn pointed out.

  “If we wait too long, the heirs of the other southern lord-holders will gather forces to come to relieve him,” predicted Zeldyan. “He has to have slipped out a messenger by now.”

  “They might rather attack our lands,” added Spalkyn dourly.

  “The Jeranyi will begin to gather as well,” added Zeldyan.

  “And the Suthyans in the north,” added Maeldyn.

  Saryn considered the situation. Sooner or later, she would have to act, because it was becoming clearer and clearer that none of the lord-holders of Lornth had the strength to be an effective overlord. Henstrenn wasn’t any stronger than the others, except through the support offered by the Suthyans, and if he became overlord, Lornth would become little more than a vassal state of Suthya. Still…she decided to wait just a bit longer before saying anything.

  For a time, no one spoke.

  Finally, Saryn spoke. “If Henstrenn doesn’t engage us by dusk tonight, I’ll try something before dawn tomorrow. If it works, the gates will come down at first light, and we can attack immediately…” She let her words trail off.

  Maeldyn and Spalkyn exchanged glances.

  “Might we ask what you have in mind?” Maeldyn looked inquiringly at Saryn.

  “A way to break the gates down.” Saryn paused. “It will only be good for one set o
f gates. Which would be better?”

  Maeldyn looked to Spalkyn. “You’re the only one who’s been there.”

  “That was years ago.”

  The other three fixed their eyes on the square-bearded lord.

  “Ah…well…back then the eastern gates would have been better. They may well be now. They’re stronger, but they open onto a paved area that splits in two ways—to the front of the villa and to the rear courtyard. Coming in that way would trap their armsmen against the western gates.”

  “The eastern gates, then?” asked Saryn.

  “That would seem best,” Maeldyn said. “Do you intend to lead the attack, as well?”

  “No,” replied Saryn. “Someone should be ready to attack as soon as the gates are breached, but I’ll be on foot close to the gates when that happens. It will take a little time for us to remount and reform. It makes more sense for my forces to be in position to keep anyone from being outflanked or to deal with any white wizards.” And I have no idea what sort of shape I’ll be in at that point.

  “You want us—” began Spalkyn.

  “Lord Spalkyn,” interjected Zeldyan firmly. “The commander has so far led each fight since we reached Duevek. She has also led in the battles against five other lords. I may be speaking where I know naught of what is required, but I gather that what she plans to do involves great danger to her.” Zeldyan turned to Saryn. “Might that be so?”

  “It is dangerous,” Saryn admitted. “It might be very dangerous. I had hoped not to have to try it.”

  “Have you done…what ever this is…before?” asked Maeldyn.

  “Yes. It worked.” Saryn looked directly at the stern-faced lord-holder. “Do you want the gates down or not?”

  “I will lead my company first,” offered Zeldyan in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Abruptly, Maeldyn laughed, shaking his head, murmuring about the deadliness of women. When he stopped chuckling, he turned first to Zeldyan. “You have already risked much, Lady.” His eyes went to Saryn. “As have you, Commander. We will lead. At what signal should we attack?”

  “When the gates fail, you will know it.” Saryn’s voice was dry. “We will join you as soon as we can.”

  “You have not been known to tarry, Commander, for which we can all be grateful.”

  Translated loosely, thought Saryn, the sooner you join the fray, the happier we’ll all be. But would they be so happy if they knew what had to follow? Saryn thought Maeldyn might suspect, but she doubted that Zeldyan would have considered the matter. “We will not tarry any longer than absolutely necessary. We need most of the blood shed to be that of Henstrenn’s men and that of the Suthyans.”

  Zeldyan nodded.

  “How far back should we be…and when?” asked Maeldyn.

  “About three hundred yards…a half glass before first light…one Westwind squad will be at five hundred yards, the others slightly farther back…”

  The four discussed their plans for almost a glass before it became clear that once the basic outline was laid out, there was little else that they could determine with any certainty.

  As she walked away from the others after they finished their discussion, Saryn began to worry even more. Could she take down the gates and still have enough ability left to function? To do what else needed to be done? And then to do what was required beyond that?

  Did she want to? Saryn shook her head. What real choice did she have if she were to stand behind what she believed?

  Dealdron stood at the corner of the barn, as if he had been waiting for her. He smiled warmly. “Good afternoon, Commander and Angel.”

  “Good afternoon.”

  “You look worried.”

  “That’s because I am.”

  “Then you will be attacking the holding tomorrow.”

  Saryn raised her eyebrows. “You’re presuming a great deal.”

  Dealdron smiled sadly. “I think not. Lord Henstrenn remains behind his walls. You just met with the other lords and the lady. You are worried. You do not show that you are worried unless you are very worried—”

  Saryn couldn’t help but smile. “That’s enough, Dealdron,” she said warmly. “You’ve made your point.”

  He grinned back at her, clearly amused. “Only because it is in words. In all else…” He shrugged.

  “I doubt that I know a fraction of what you do in practical skills, things like stonework, plastering, carpentry, horses…”

  “Skill at arms is most practical in Candar, Commander.”

  “I would that it were not. I would that…” She shook her head. “We do what we must.”

  “So we do.” His eyes fixed on her for a long moment before he offered an embarrassed smile. “When would you like the gelding to be ready?”

  “A glass before first light.”

  “He will be ready.”

  “Thank you. I need to find Hryessa.”

  “She’s giving the newer ones more training by the smaller barn.”

  Saryn nodded and turned, walking slowly toward the other barn. The momentary intensity of his glance had unnerved her, more than unnerved her. Why? Because you might actually feel something for him?

  Tomorrow would come all too soon, she reminded herself. All too soon. After that, she could consider what she might feel.

  XCI

  Not surprisingly, Saryn did not sleep well on threeday night and ended up waking even earlier than she needed to. After dressing without lighting the single lamp, although she suspected that Zeldyan was already awake, she slipped out and made her way through the darkness toward the stable, thinking about what lay ahead.

  She wasn’t skilled enough with the order-chaos flows to deal with the iron straps and hinges that held the gates in place, but she didn’t have to be. All she had to do was link enough nodes in the stone that held the hinges to destroy the support.

  All? She smiled wryly. She also had to blow the gates in a way that left her functional afterwards, because taking down the gates was only a prelude to the battle, not the entire battle, as had been the case when she had dealt with the Gallosian army marching on Westwind.

  Both Hryessa and Dealdron were waiting for her in the light of the lamp just outside the stable door. Dealdron held the reins to the gelding, already saddled.

  “Fourth squad is almost ready,” said the captain.

  Saryn nodded. They’d decided the night before to save first squad—and the squad’s ten archers—for what followed Saryn’s efforts with the gates. “And the rest of the company?”

  “They’ll be ready in less than half a glass. We will leave shortly after you and fourth squad. We will circle to the north so that no one can hear us before we ride toward the gates, and we will stand ready at half a kay.”

  “Stay well back of the others until the gates are down.”

  “We can do that, but we will move up to cover you.” Hryessa smiled. “The others need to do some of the work.”

  They do…for more than one reason. “We’ll let them.” But I don’t want very many Suthyan survivors if we can eliminate them without losing too many guards. “Try to pick off the ones who break and flee. We don’t want to have to fight them later. They’re the kind who cause trouble time after time.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  “I need to be going.”

  Dealdron handed her the reins, and said quietly, “If you would, Commander…take care of yourself.”

  Not quite impulsively, she put her hand over his for an instant before taking the reins, squeezing it gently, if but for a moment. “Thank you.” She could sense his confusion and consternation…and found it touching. “I’ll do my best.”

  Then she swung up into the saddle and checked the knee sheaths. Both held blades, giving her four with the two in her battle harness. She hoped that four would be enough. She nodded to Dealdron and Hryessa, then turned the gelding toward fourth squad, formed up some twenty yards away on the flat ground beyond the stable.

  She reined up just short of Klar
isa. “Squad leader.”

  “Commander.”

  “Once we’re within a few hundred yards of the walls, I’ll need one guard to ride closer with me and take care of my mount. You and the squad will hold for my return.”

  “Yes, ser. Ishelya will be riding with you. She’s one of the best horse-women we have.” Klarisa turned. “Guard Ishelya, forward.”

  Even in the darkness, as Ishelya rode forward, Saryn could see and sense that the guard was small and muscular.

  “Sers.” Ishelya inclined her head.

  “Head out, squad leader,” Saryn said. “We want to be five hundred yards northeast of the eastern gates.”

  “Yes, ser.” Klarisa added in louder voice, “Squad, forward. Silent riding.”

  Close to a quarter glass had passed, Saryn judged, before the squad came to a halt. Only a few lamps glimmering to the southwest marked the darker silhouette of the keep walls and the buildings within the granite barrier.

  “Hold here until the gates fall.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Saryn turned to her escort. “Let’s go.”

  While Saryn wanted to hurry, a fast walk was far quieter, and it took a while before she sensed she was perhaps seventy yards from the dark walls. She reined up and dismounted, then handed the gelding’s reins up to the guard. “Ishelya,” she said, her voice low, “I want you to ride back out another fifty yards and wait. There will be an explosion if I’m successful. When that happens, ride back here with my mount as quickly as you can.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Saryn turned and began to walk quietly toward the walls, using her sight and senses to try to avoid anything that might cause her to trip or stumble. The sound might well alert a sentry. Then, too, a sentry might still see her, but that was less likely in the darkness since she had ridden to a point not opposite the gates, but opposite the walls some fifty yards northwest of the gates. That was so she could walk straight to the wall in an area where there were no lamps close by and hug the wall as she moved closer to the eastern gates.