Llyselle’s blade tip was at the back of Suhartyn’s neck, and Huldran had cold iron on Baorl. Ydrall and Duessya had moved behind the two officers.
The envoy paled, and the high trader slowly put his hands on the table, palms up.
“Suhartyn…” Ryba said coldly. “I expected better of you.”
“I didn’t know. I didn’t!”
“Siret?”
“He’s telling the truth about that. I’d guess he suspected treachery but not by Calasyr. I don’t think he was told.”
“Of course. They feared that we’d detect any lies on his part.”
Ryba’s smile was cold as she stood. “Does your council fear a collection of distant women so much that they would try such treachery?” She shook her head. “I doubt it. Like all thieving merchants, they merely looked for the cheapest way to their ends. And like all dishonest traders, you and they will end up paying far, far more as a result of your dishonesty. As for you, and your men, you have one glass to depart Westwind. You may leave the tower now.”
Suhartyn inclined his head.
“And take that carrion with you.” Ryba glanced toward Calasyr’s corpse.
As the Suthyans filed out, with two Suthyans Saryn had not met carrying Calasyr’s body, Whulyn lagged behind the others, slightly. Saryn moved toward him as he neared the archway between the hall and the foyer. “A moment, Undercaptain.”
The grizzled officer turned. “Yes?”
“Neither you nor the captain was party to Calasyr’s plot, were you?”
“No. Why do you say that?” An ironic smile flickered at the corners of his thin lips.
“Because of who each of you happens to be. What will your superiors say?”
“We’ll likely be cashiered if we return to Armat.”
“You might consider serving Lady Zeldyan of Lornth, in that case.”
“That might only postpone the inevitable, Commander.”
“It might…but what is inevitable to one land is not necessarily so to another.”
Whulyn nodded. “I appreciate your concern, Commander, but I must ready my men. I assume they are well.”
“Unless they lifted arms, you will find them well.”
“I told them not to, and they obey. Good night.” The undercaptain turned and hurried to follow the other Suthyans.
“What was that about?” asked Ryba.
“I was trying to recruit a good officer for Lady Zeldyan. She, and we, could use such.”
“That she could. I’ll need to talk to you in the morning, but I want you personally to make sure every last Suthyan is off the Roof of the World before the next glass is turned.”
“Yes, ser.” Saryn nodded and hurried toward the tower door.
Out on the causeway her gelding was waiting, held by Aemra.
“I can hold horses while others bear arms, Commander. The horses will not disobey me.” Even in the dim light cast by the pair of lanterns framing the tower door, the calm behind the silver-haired girl’s smile was obvious.
“Thank you.” Saryn took the reins and mounted, then urged the gelding across the causeway to the road and uphill.
She could sense that Llyselle’s entire company was mounted and stationed in squads along the road. With the guards in place, and with the Suthyans effectively under Lygyrt’s-and Whulyn’s-command, Saryn had few doubts that all the Suthyans would be well away from Westwind within Ryba’s time limits.
Still, she’d have scouts follow them and hold a squad on standby for the night.
VIII
Oneday morning, after grabbing some bread and cheese from the kitchen, Saryn was out of the tower well before sunrise. She didn’t feel as tired as she might have, even though she’d been up late the night before checking with the scouts and patrols to make certain that the Suthyans were gone-and that they stayed on the road home to Armat.
Her first concern was with the horses. Dealing with the Suthyans had meant more riding and less rest for the mounts, and it was still early in the year, when the horses were not as well conditioned as they would be later. That was one reason why she wanted to check with Duessya.
The head ostler was inspecting the front hoofs of a mare when Saryn reached the stables. Saryn stepped away and started to walk through the stables. While she didn’t have the sensitivity of either Istril or Siret, if she concentrated, more like opening her senses wider, she could feel pain, but it was more like a needle jab than the overwhelming agony that she’d seen flatten Nylan and Istril.
She walked the entire length of the stables and back, but didn’t sense that any horse was in great pain or agony.
Duessya waited, looking like she’d gotten less sleep than Saryn. “Yes, Commander?”
“How are the horses?”
“A handful will need to be rested, but most are in good shape. The Suthyans and their mounts aren’t used to the heights or the cold. We didn’t have to work ours nearly that hard.”
“There are lots of things they’re not used to.” Saryn’s words came out more tartly than she had intended.
“They do not like women with cold iron.”
“And minds of their own,” added Saryn. “How many more foals are we expecting?”
“Just two. We have ten in all, and they’re all healthy…”
By the time Saryn had finished with Duessya and was walking back down the road, the junior guards were lined up on the field for exercises and arms practice.
Ryba had crossed the causeway and walked across the corner of the field to join Saryn.
“Good morning, ser,” offered the arms-commander.
“Good morning, Saryn. Have you heard anything more about the Suthyans?”
“They were all headed northwest, but I have scouts following them. We can’t be sure for several days where they’re going…except that it’s away from Westwind.”
“The envoy did not seem overly impressed with the skill of the guards,” said Ryba.
“I don’t think he knows much about arms,” replied Saryn. “The undercaptain understood, but I doubt that any of the senior officers will listen to him.”
“In a society where position is granted by birth and gender, junior officers who come up through the ranks are ignored almost as much as women.” Ryba’s laugh was both low and harsh. “In all of Candar, Westwind is the only land where women and ability are recognized.”
But you feel almost the same way about men as the Suthyans, Lornians, and Gallosians do about women. Is that really any better? Saryn knew better than to voice that thought.
“What do you think about the timing of the envoy’s visit?” pressed Ryba.
“It was early in the year.”
“Exactly. That suggests that someone has planned something.”
“There’s no sign of the Suthyans bringing up more armsmen.”
“They won’t. They prefer to have others fight for them, whenever possible.”
“That does suggest that they’re working with the Gallosians.” Saryn paused but for a moment. “I thought that it might be a good idea if I took a squad farther east to look into matters.”
“If you hadn’t suggested it, I would have,” replied Ryba. “Arthanos has no love of Westwind, and he might even have been the one to put the Suthyans up to their treachery.”
“In hopes of weakening Westwind before he musters forces for an attack on us?”
“That’s a foregone conclusion. When were you planning on leaving?”
“I’d thought we’d leave on threeday.”
“You might be better making it tomorrow.”
That alone told Saryn that Ryba was more than casually concerned. “Yes, ser.”
“After we warm up, I need to spar. So do you.”
That was also true, Saryn knew.
IX
For early spring on the Roof of the World, the day was warm enough for Saryn to shed her riding jacket as she accompanied first company’s second squad down through the pass to the north and east of the high valley through which the traders had come. Despite the clear sky and the direct whitish sunlight beating down through the greenish blue sky, snow was still drifted into piles in the shade under the massive evergreens on each side of the road. Saryn still found herself amused at what she now considered a “road.” The only proper roads in the Westhorns were those around Westwind, stone-paved and generally level, although the guards had, over the past several years, paved certain sections of the packed-dirt ways around the Roof of the World, just to keep them from washing out, as well as building several short stone-and-earth bridges.