Forral looked at her coldly. “Ah yes, Lieutenant Maya. I’d meant to get round to you, before we were sidetracked. Rioch is retired, and as I hadn’t taken charge yet, you were in command of the Garrison today! Why were there no duty patrols on the streets? Can you explain why you didn’t arrive until the emergency was over? As Second-in-Command, I can’t say you’ve impressed me so far!”
Aurian, seated next to Maya, was deeply aware of the woman’s distress at the charge. The warrior’s face burned, and her hands were shaking.-She squirmed beneath Forral’s accusing gaze. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t seem to speak.
Aurian felt sorry for her. She knew how intimidating Forral could be when he was angry. In an instinctive, impulsive gesture—for she was not generally given to such intimacy with strangers—she clasped Maya’s hand beneath the table, offering support and comfort. The pressure was returned, and Maya flashed her a grateful smile, seeming to find her voice at last. “Sir, I—”
“Now just a bloody minute—Sir!” Parric leapt angrily to Maya’s defense. “It wasn’t Maya’s fault! You say that Rioch had retired, but it’s not true—not where we were concerned. He was still hanging around, giving the occasional order—when he felt like it. True, he expected Maya to handle all the dull, nitpicking jobs he couldn’t be bothered with—but he didn’t back her authority, and he wouldn’t let her act on her own. The poor lass was in a bloody awful position. And today those dumb bastards didn’t even think to send for us! By the time I’d managed to get word to the Garrison, Rioch had disappeared, bag and baggage, and nobody knew where you were, and there’s poor Maya trying to organize the troops, but everybody’s running around like chickens saying ’Where’s Rioch?’ and ’Who’s giving orders?’ Well, it was a miracle that she got the troops out at all—especially when you consider that she was in line for your command, and should have had it, and how much she wanted it, but got turned down flat out of hand—”
“Parric!” Maya looked stricken.
Parric shrugged. “Well, it’s true, and he should know it! Maya’s a bloody good soldier, Sir—the best. She deserves better than this.”
Forral’s expression was rueful. “So that’s how it is.” He sighed. “I wish I’d known, before I accepted this post. My apologies, Lieutenant, I was unjust.” He took a deep breath, and looked around at them all. “Grievances have been aired today, among the five of us, that need to be dealt with. It’s no good squabbling amongst ourselves while the city falls apart around us. We must support each other, for we”—he hit the table with his fist, then gave a wry smile—“for lack of anyone better, are the ones who must set Nexis to rights! And since we must trust each other, let me make it clear, once and for all, that I don’t plan to be a puppet for Miathan, or anyone else!”
Suddenly they were all on their feet, cheering. The tensions in the room had vanished like smoke. Aurian looked proudly at Forral. This is his doing, she thought, much impressed. Look how he’s brought us together.
“Now.” Forral brought the meeting to order. “Maya, you left Hargorn and his troops in charge of the market, and handing out the Magefolk food. You reckon he’s a good, experienced man, so there should be «o problems there.”
“If there are, he’ll soon let you know!” Maya smiled. “Good. I like dependable people around me. Now Parric— you organize a troop of mounted foragers, and get into the countryside at first light. Don’t starve the farmers by any means, but I doubt you’ll have to.” He grinned. “The drought hasn’t been going on that long. I suspect they’re keeping the best stuff for themselves—and hoping to push up the selling price, at the same time. By majority vote of the Council”—he caught the merchant’s eye, and Vannor chuckled—“rationing is in force during the emergency, and their produce is requisitioned. Don’t put up with any nonsense. Mind you, don’t get carried away and start taking seed crops or breeding stock—we have to think about the future. Take some extra troopers to cart the stuff back as soon as possible—”
“And send it to me.” Vannor’s face was alight with mischief. “I’ll set up fair distribution through those merchants of mine—and don’t worry, I’ll make the misers behave. No profit-squeezing at the expense of the poor. It’ll be a new experience for them, doing good deeds!” He slapped his knee and chortled. “Gods, this’H upset them.” He winked at Forral. “I’ll say it’s your fault, of course.”
“Of course,” Forral replied solemnly, with a wink of his own. “Right, Parric—it’ll take you a while to sort things out, so you’d better get started.”
“At once, Sir!” the Cavalrymaster replied with brisk good humor, and emptyingJiis tankard in one gargantuan, well-practiced swallow, he went off, grinning from ear to ear.
“Maya.” Forral turned to the warrior. “I want you to take charge of the day-to-day running of the Garrison.” He smiled at the warrior’s dumbfounded expression. “As Aurian will tell you, I’m no administrator—my skills lie in practical warfare and teaching—so we might as well play to our strengths. And don’t worry about me supporting your authority, because I’ll back you every inch of the way. In fact, I’ll draft a set of orders before you leave, so there are no more doubts about who’s in charge.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Maya’s voice was level, but her face was alight with joy. “I’ll do a good job, I promise.”
“Call me Forral.” The swordsman smiled. “I’ve no doubt that vou’ll do a good job—as I said, I want dependable folk around me.” He paused. “There’s one more thing—I’m supposed to have a month’s leave with Aurian before I take command, and I’d still like to do that if I can. You and Vannor, with Parric’s help, should be able to handle things now that the worst of the crisis is over—”
Suddenly an enraged shout came from the doorway. “Who has dared to steal Magefolk provisions, already bought and paid for, to feed the unruly rabble of this city!” The Archmage’s entrance was unexpected, and his anger was awesome. He stood tall before them with blazing eyes, his expression thunderous. Aurian knew a sudden stab of fear for Forral and Vannor. She had never seen Miathan so angry.
The merchant and the swordsman exchanged a glance. “I did.” Both of them spoke together, and as Miathan’s face darkened further, Aurian knew she must act quickly in support of her friends. Though her knees were trembling at the thought of Miathan’s stupendous wrath falling upon her, she stood up and faced the Archmage squarely. “That’s not true,” she said, in a small but steady voice. “Neither of them had the authority to release that food, so I did it—for the honor of the Magefolk. You see, the—”
“You—did—what~>” Miathan spoke through gritted teeth. Aurian quailed, suddenly robbed of words by the soft menace in his voice.
“Let her finish, Archmage.” Forral’s voice was quiet, but his face was set like stone. As the swordsman spoke, Aurian felt the bracing grip of Maya’s hand, arid kriew that the warrior was on her side, returning help for help. The unexpected support gave her the courage to continue.
“Miathan, it’s not your fault,” she said. “You can’t have known how bad things were in Nexis. If you had, you’d have done something about it. Why, if you’d seen those poor, starving folk, I know you would have released the food yourself. I, of all people, know how kind you are. Please don’t be angry—I knew it was what you’d have wanted.”
As Vannor was later to comment irreverently, her words took the wind right out of Miathan’s sails. The Archmage was, for once in his life, completely lost for words.
“Archmage, the city appreciates the generosity of the Magefolk.” Vannor spelce softly and persuasively. “This Lady has earned you a lot of gratitude today—for her kind heart, and for bringing the rain.”