Scion of Cyador

CXXV

Lorn stands by Fayrken’s desk in the fourth-floor foyer of Mirror Lancer Court. He extends several sheets of paper to the senior squad leader. “Here’s the report of the oneday meeting. I’ll need two copies.”

“Yes, ser.” Fayrken nods as he takes the sheets. “Short meeting.”

“It was this time.” Lorn smiles. “Thank you.” He turns, and as he sees the curly-haired and narrow-faced commander nearing, he says, “Good day, Commander.”

“Good day, Majer.” Shykt slows, frowns, then adds, “Might you have a moment?”

“Yes, ser.”

Shykt inclines his head toward the door to Lorn’s study.

Lorn holds the door to the study and allows Shykt to enter first, then steps into the room, closing the door behind him. The study is dim on a fall midafternoon when the rain, occasionally heavy, slides down the ancient windowpanes. Lorn waits for the senior officer to seat himself before he takes his own seat behind the desk.

“Majer…I have heard certain rumors, and I will not put you in the difficult position of denying them falsely or betraying confidences…”

“Thank you, ser.”

“So I will phrase what I have to say as suggestions about an event that has yet to take place and that may indeed never take place.” Shykt purses his lips and tilts his head, then focuses his eyes directly on Lorn. “If it should come to pass that several companies of Mirror Lancers are indeed transferred to Cyad, under the command of a field commander…whoever that field commander is might well be advised to be most careful in how he views his orders.”

Lorn nods. “Any Mirror Lancer officer must be most careful in such.”

Shykt’s smile is perfunctory. “We claim to serve chaos and prosperity for the benefit of all Cyador. That can never be, because there are as many Cyadors, in a way, as there are people within our land. Each man, each woman, has a vision of Cyador.”

Lorn offers a smile in return. “That is true, and I have pondered that.”

“Unhappily, the greater the position a man holds, the more likely he is to feel that what is good for him is good for Cyador. Unless he is the Emperor, or one who can see all of Cyador selflessly, and such are rare, and, I fear, becoming more rare.”

With an interested look upon his face, Lorn waits for Shykt to continue.

“It is no secret that the Emperor looks well beyond himself. So does the Empress, and they have been good for Cyador. Less well-known is the fact that this time of change may last longer than the Emperor, and all around Cyad are those positioning themselves for what may occur.” Shykt’s smile is hard, bright, forced. “Even you, I suspect, Majer.”

“Like all men, I have a vision of Cyador, ser, but I am not one to force that vision on the people of this land, and I am a lancer, bound to my duty, and to the Majer-Commander and the Emperor.”

Shykt raises his eyebrows. “Those are fine words, if careful.”

Lorn laughs, gently. “Ser…what would you? If I offered less, you would not be pleased. If I offered more, you would not believe me.”

Shykt purses his lips. “Were there…Only speculation, you understand, but were there lancers armed with firelances in Cyad, what sort of officer should command them?”

“I was asked that once,” Lorn says reflectively. “I recommended Majer Brevyl.”

For a moment Shykt is silent, as if Lorn has offered words he had not expected.

“And I say this not in flattery,” Lorn says, “even though it might come out as such, that you also would do well in such command. As would Commander Sypcal.”

“Flattery indeed, nonetheless.” Shykt laughs, more harshly than Lorn would have expected.

“Perhaps,” Lorn allows, “but true. You are concerned about what happens to Cyador more than what happens to you.”

“Are you, Majer?”

“I hope so,” Lorn answers truthfully, adding with a wry expression, “but words are but that until one has to choose.”

“That, too, is true.” Shykt stands. “I trust you understand why I offered my thoughts on something that might never occur.” The commander’s voice is neutral.

“You have great concerns for the future of Cyador, as might any man of vision in these times,” Lorn replies. “You wish to preserve that which is best about our land at a time when few even consider what things have made it a great land.”

“And, I would like my son to have the chances that I did. And his children as well.” Shykt nods. “Thank you, Majer.”

“Thank you, ser.”

Lorn watches as the curly-haired commander closes the door. Then he sits down slowly, wondering who else has read the orders sent by the Majer-Commander, and what others, if any will visit.

After a time, he shakes his head. Speculation will avail him little…yet, and he has reports to read, and to summarize for the Majer-Commander. He picks up the first sheet and begins to read. When he finishes the first report, he writes three lines on a separate sheet, then picks up the next one.

He finishes three reports, ignoring the heavier beat of rain on the panes of the closed window.

Thrap.

At the knock on his study door, Lorn looks up. “Yes? Come in.” He stands even before he has finished speaking.

The swarthy and dark-browed Luss steps into Lorn’s study, and closes the door firmly. “Did you know I was coming, Majer?” asks the Captain-Commander with a frown.

“No, ser. But in the season-and-a-half I’ve been here, I’ve yet to meet an officer junior to me, and the messengers and rankers are always announced.”

Luss laughs. “Every time I talk with you, I discover more why the Majer-Commander ordered you here. You see too much too quickly at too young a rank to be left in the field without understanding headquarters.”

“I appreciate your compliment, ser, but I am sure there are others who see more.”

Luss waves off Lorn’s demurral and sits down opposite the table desk.

Lorn sits slowly and waits.

“The Mirror Lancers have always served Cyador, Majer. I’m certain that you understand that.”

“Yes, ser.”

“And every company, wherever it may be, is in the end under the command of the Majer-Commander.”

Lorn nods, understanding all too well the impact of the phrases yet unuttered, but keeping his expression politely interested.

“The duty of the Majer-Commander, whoever he may be,” Luss continues, “is to use the Mirror Lancers to preserve Cyador, just as the duty of the First Magus is to use his powers to preserve the Land of Eternal Light.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Those who serve the Majer-Commander cannot question the Majer-Commander’s orders, not and carry out their duties as Mirror Lancer officers.”

“No, ser, they cannot.”

Luss smiles, almost lazily. “Are you a Mirror Lancer officer, Majer?”

“Yes, ser. My duty is to the Majer-Commander, and to serve Cyador under his command.”

Luss frowns, ever so slightly. “Would that be your answer were you still in Invidra?”

“Not quite, ser. My duty would still be to the Majer-Commander, but I would serve Cyador through his orders to the commander at Assyadt.”

“As I recall, Majer…you had some difficulties there.”

“No, ser.” His eyes hard, Lorn faces Luss. “I always served Cyador, and the Majer-Commander. I did not serve Majer Dettaur.”

“He was in the chain of command, Majer.”

Lorn smiles. “He failed to protect Cyador, or the lancers, and I brought this to the attention of both Commander Ikynd and you, and the Majer-Commander. Had I been wrong, I would have been disgraced or executed. I put my life and belief in the Majer-Commander, the Mirror Lancers, and Cyador in the hands of the Majer-Commander.”

“You did indeed.” Luss smiles genially-and falsely, Lorn knows. “But the Majer-Commander is not a person, but a position of trust.”

“Yes, ser, and had you been Majer-Commander, I would have done the same.” Lorn hopes Luss will accept the words, because, true as they are, Lorn would have done the same, had Luss been Majer-Commander, for most different reasons.

“You do believe that, don’t you?”

“Yes, ser,” Lorn replies truthfully.

“Would that others had such devotion to the Mirror Lancers and the Majer-Commander as you.” Luss stands.

Lorn stands quickly. “I feel that most officers feel as I do.”

“One would hope so, Majer.” Luss inclines his head. “Good day.” He leaves as abruptly as he has entered.

Lorn feels like taking a deep breath, but does not. Instead, he sits slowly and looks at the heavy raindrops striking the ancient glass. He feels like the name in the ancient poem-whoever Sampson might have been.

After gathering himself together, Lorn has just turned back to his reading and summarizing the stack of reports from Syadtar, when there is another knock at the door, and Fayrken peers in. “Ser, Tygyl sent down word that the Majer-Commander expects you in his study soon as you can get there.”

Replacing the two reports he has just read on the stack, Lorn stands. “I’m on my way.”

He walks quickly up the stairs. At the upper desk, Tygyl motions for him to enter the Majer-Commander’s study.

Lorn does so, closing the door, and bowing. “You requested my presence, ser.”

Sitting at his desk, Rynst gestures to the chairs, barely waiting for Lorn to sit before he asks, “How many visitors have you had about your coming assignment, Majer-besides the Captain-Commander and Commander Shykt? Has Commander Inylt contacted you?

“No, ser. And there were no others…so far, ser.”

“Another cautious answer. I wondered about Commander Inylt, since he is charged with converting part of one of the unused Mirror Lancer warehouses into a barracks and a stable.” Rynst leans forward in his chair, seeming larger-than-life framed in the ancient windows that show the backdrop of heavy gray clouds and rain that sleets across Cyad, almost obscuring the Palace of Eternal Light. “I assume that Commander Shykt warned you-most obliquely-against the machinations of others, most probably those of Commander Muyro and the Captain-Commander-and that the Captain-Commander reminded you of the chain of command. Luss doubtless tried to make the point that all companies of the Mirror Lancers are ultimately commanded by the Majer-Commander-whoever he may be-on behalf of Cyador.” Rynst pauses.

Lorn waits.

“Yes…or no?” Rynst’s voice is cold.

“Commander Shykt was far more cautious, ser. He merely suggested that I think through my actions in light of their probable results and remember that, in a way, the fate of Cyad and Cyador rests on the soundness of every officer, no matter how junior. He also asked-if companies of Mirror Lancers were stationed in Cyad-what kind of officer should command them. I suggested that the officer should believe in Cyador above himself.”

Rynst laughs. “Ah…Shykt knows you. He knows you far better than Luss.” Laugh and smile vanish. “How would you interpret these visits?”

“Commander Shykt worries that I may hold power greater than I realize if given command of two full companies of Mirror Lancers in Cyad.”

“Do you think so?”

“Ser…as my father said many years ago, neither the Magi’i nor the Mirror Lancers nor even the merchanters can stand against the will of the people.” Lorn offers a shrug he does not feel. “If I do my duty, and my senior officers uphold Cyad, then I will have little power except to uphold what is. If I do not do my duty or my senior officers do not, I will also have little power, for two companies are of little use against a city.”

Rynst frowns. “You do not think your senior officers know their duty?”

“You know your duty, ser, and you will die, I believe, before you would betray it. The others know it. Some may not have your strength of will.”

Rynst laughs. “You seek to flatter me.”

“No, ser. I tell you what I see, and I fear to do so. Honestly is seldom well-regarded, despite all that is said for it.”

“That indeed is true.” The Majer-Commander shakes his head. “So…what will you do if you are tested?”

“My duty is to Cyador, ser.”

“An ambiguous answer, Majer.”

“It must be, ser. If I answer that my duty is to you, then I could betray all that Cyador is. If I say that it is to the Majer-Commander, then I would be bound to support whoever held the position, no matter if he would destroy Cyador…” Lorn shrugs helplessly.

Rynst nods slowly. “You will command those companies, Majer, and your duty remains as it always has been. You may go.”

“Yes, ser.”

Lorn stands, bows, and turns, wondering if Rynst has any parting comments.

The Majer-Commander does not, and Lorn leaves the study silently, walking steadily to the steps and back down to his study, holding a faint and pleasant smile in place. Yet he worries, knowing that he has been too honest, too direct, careful as he has been. Yet, if he says what others wish to hear, how long before he will do what they wish done, even when such actions are not right or for the good of Cyador?

He smiles grimly. Fine thoughts, when anything can be claimed to be for the good of the Mirror Lancers and Cyador. Everything in Cyador is mirrored in everything else, and some reflections are true, and some of those true reflections are yet false, for they portray true images reflecting onto and concealing deception.