“It would appear you managed to convey that quite clearly without saying it,” replied Kelthyn.
“Lord Kelthyn,” said Gethen, stressing the word lord ever so slightly and ironically, “I might point out that, what ever you may think of Westwind and its Marshal, in this matter, it is rather clear that they and we have little to gain in squabbling between us. The Suthyans gain much by such squabbling.”
“I yield to your great wisdom and experience in this matter, Lord Gethen.” Kelthyn’s smooth and well-modulated voice contained no hint of the contempt Saryn sensed. He turned to Saryn. “I believe you have requested some odd trade goods in measure for your information and support of Lornth. Is this not true?”
“It is.”
“And can you promise that such will not be used against Lornth?”
“I can promise that they will not be used against Lornth, assuming that Lornth does not attack Westwind. Certainly, Lord Kelthyn, you would not expect me to foreclose self-defense.”
“No, I would not expect that, but do you honestly expect the Suthyans to ally themselves with the Gallosians?”
“No,” replied Saryn. “I expect the Suthyans to use the Gallosians and anyone else to their advantage, whether it be the Gallosians, Lord Deryll, or holders here who might seek to profit.”
“As they always have,” added Gethen dryly.
“Could they not be using Westwind?” questioned Kelthyn.
“They tried. When that failed, they sent High Trader Baorl to visit Lord Duevek.”
“Could it not have been that the Lord of Duevek was merely concerned to protect his lands? To see the vaunted guards of Westwind advancing…”
“Thirty-one women on the highway, who avoided both his town and his fortified villa? Why would we ride six days into Lornth if we were merely raiding? And then ride here and tell you about it?”
“You make a most convincing point, persuasive as it is meant to be.” Kelthyn leaned back slightly in his chair, as if to signify that he had said what he would say.
“It may take several days to gather those items which you require,” said Zeldyan.
Saryn understood the unspoken question that followed. “We understand and appreciate your helpfulness. Given the chance of misunderstandings, we have ordered our guards to remain within the palace walls for the time being.”
“Most prudent,” said Gethen.
“It is best to be prudent when that suits the situation,” added Kelthyn.
“You have made that point yourself, often by example, Lord Kelthyn,” added Zeldyan sweetly. She turned her head to Saryn. “We may wish to make inquiries of you again, Commander, before you leave. For now, you are free to leave while we discuss other matters.”
Saryn rose and bowed. “Thank you. I will be most happy to address any other matters you may wish.”
None of the regents spoke while she departed.
Once she was outside the tower chamber, she reclaimed her sword belt, not that she feared a direct attack, at least not in Lornth. She did need to make her own inquiries about a route that would return them to the Roof of the World without going through Duevek. There was little point in tempting fate unnecessarily.
XXVI
After she had left the regents, Saryn took her time touring the palace, then began what amounted to an inspection tour of the outbuildings. The few armed guards she saw observed her closely, but no one hindered or questioned her. While everything was reasonably clean and ordered, she couldn’t help but notice water stains around windows on the north end of the palace and in several places, along the top edges on the interior of outside walls. Many of the chambers on the third level on the south end of the palace were empty even of furniture. The fireplaces in several guest chambers had been bricked up. The large kitchen had massive hearths, but not even the simple stoves of Westwind, and some of the hearths had not been used in some time. Drains in the stables had been dug up and crudely replaced and reset.
As much to take her mind off what she had seen as anything, she spent the later part of the afternoon working in the rear courtyard with various guards on their blade skills. Several of the palace armsmen watched, if covertly.
She was about to begin sparring with Hryessa when the middle rear door to the tower section of the palace opened and Lady Zeldyan emerged, walking across the courtyard with a boy who had to be her son, followed by two armed guards. Rather than beginning to spar, then interrupting the exercise, she waited for the pair to reach them.
“Commander, this is my son, Nesslek. Nesslek, this is Arms-Commander Saryn.”
Although only eleven, Nesslek was but a hand shorter than Saryn. His face was oval, with fine but strong features, topped with thick blond hair. He smiled politely and warmly, then bowed. “Commander Saryn, my mother has spoken much about you…and well.”
Saryn could see that he was already the kind who charmed women. “And she has spoken with pride about you.”
Before Nesslek could say more, Zeldyan spoke. “I had heard you were practicing. Would you mind if we watched?”
“Not at all. We are using weighted wands, not blades.”
A look of puzzlement crossed Nesslek’s face.
“We train to kill,” Saryn said to him. “And there are not that many guards in Westwind that we can afford to kill or wound each other.”
“Your blades are short, like an inside sword,” observed the young heir.
“They’re more effective on horse back. We also throw them when necessary.”
“Does that not leave you vulnerable?”
“The arms-commander carries three into battle,” Hryessa interjected. “She never misses.”
“Have you killed many men?” pressed Nesslek.
Saryn managed a smile. “As many as necessary and far more than I would have liked to. That is the nature of using weapons successfully.”
That brought another expression, not quite a frown, yet not exactly thoughtful.
“So long as men do not wish any land to be ruled by women, such deaths will be necessary, but I can wish they were not.” Saryn stepped away from the lady and her son and nodded to Hryessa.
Both Zeldyan and Nesslek watched for close to half a glass as Saryn worked with Hryessa, first right-handed, then with her left, and at last with wands in both hands.
Finally, Saryn stepped back, breathing hard and soaked with sweat. She was glad that the laundress was washing all her soiled uniforms-except for the one remaining clean one-not that she had that many.
“Would you like to try?” asked Saryn, reversing the weighted wand and extending it.
Nesslek took it…and then grasped it more firmly.
“It’s heavier than it looks.” Saryn smiled.
“It is indeed,” replied Nesslek, reversing the weapon and handing it back.
“Is that one reason why many have underestimated your guards?” asked Zeldyan. “Because your weapons do not seem too impressive?”
“It may be, Lady. Also, the guards are very skilled with their bows.”
“The longbows…how can you ride with them?” inquired Nesslek. “Besides, they are best used for hunting, not fighting.”
“We use a double-curved shorter bow. They’re powerful enough to put shafts through armor at two hundred yards, and the guards are trained to pick up different individual targets and lead them. We don’t fire blindly.”
“How do they fare against armored cavalry?”
“A squad of guards wiped out an entire Gallosian squad and incurred one fatality and three minor wounds,” Saryn replied. “This detachment wiped out two squads that attacked on the way here-that was after a day of travel against fresh mounts. We lost no one.”