Lerial cannot dispute the majer’s words, and it only takes Lerial a little while, less than a tenth of a glass, to find second company, possibly because his men are setting up close to the east side of the road that leads to Nevnarnia. He reins up short of Korlyn.
“You back, ser?” asks the first squad leader.
“I’m back,” confirms Lerial. “But I won’t be able to protect anyone from firebolts for a while. We’ll have to avoid them by not being where they hit.”
“Yes, ser.” Korlyn’s smile still seems to reflect relief, as if he definitely prefers Lerial to be in command.
After speaking with Korlyn, Lerial also meets with each squad leader. He cannot help but notice that Alaynara watches him and Moraris closely.
When he has finished with the squad leaders, he rides north to inspect and study the hamlet. The first dwellings in the Nevnarnia proper are less than four hundred yards from the Lancer encampment, and as Lerial rides closer he finds that the road splits into three forks. He takes the westernmost one that curves into a lane parallel to two others. He can see that hamlet is certainly modest, with perhaps fifty to sixty dwellings spaced carefully along the three narrow lanes. Lines of tall trees run between the houses set back to back on the lanes. As in the other towns he has observed, all the dwellings have plank siding and wooden shake roofs, with sturdy stone chimneys. Most of the dwellings are shuttered. That scarcely surprises Lerial. Outside of the dwellings themselves, he sees no places that would shelter or offer any real cover to mounted Lancers-except in the woods to the west of the hamlet. Nor does he discover any ditches or depressions that would hamper a mounted charge or a foot advance.
As Lerial nears the far end of the lane, or rather, the point where it curves eastward, he sees another small Kaordist temple. He reins up and studies the twin-spired structure with the one spire curved and rounded and somehow off-center and the other spire clean and straight.
Can one really call chaos feminine and order male? From what Lerial has seen of life, little as it may be compared to someone like the majer, men are the ones who are more chaotic. But then, in most places, men make the rules, and it’s hard to argue with that. Just like it’s hard to argue with his father, the majer … or even Lephi.
He continues onward, making his way down the middle lane, in the center of which are some shops and a small building that looks as though it is similar to a chandlery. There are a few people on the lanes, less than a handful.
Near the northern end of the last lane on the east, or rather where it joins the curved extensions of the other lanes, and the combined road curves due east, most likely heading back to the main road to Escadya and, beyond there, to Verdell, just short of the last dwelling on the east side of the lane, he sees a man with a ladder. The man sets the ladder down and turns away from Lerial to talk to the woman who is following him. Neither is looking in Lerial’s direction.
Lerial definitely wants to know what they’re talking about, especially since the few others he has seen have hurried on without looking at him..
Can you raise a very small concealment? He decides to try, perhaps almost a blurring rather than a full concealment. He does not feel light-headed or dizzy and lets the gelding carry him slowly toward the couple, easing to a stop when he can hear their voices.
“If you’re staying to fight the Meroweyans, so am I,” declares the muscular, graying woman.
“You don’t know one end of a sword from the other,” declares the stout and half-bald older man in brown.
“Neither do you. Besides, you don’t have a sword.”
“I’ve got my bow and a score of good shafts.”
“I have mine, and just as many shafts. And I’m a better archer. You know that in your heart, Kaleb.”
“You’re a stubborn woman, Yasnela.”
“Wasn’t that what led you to consort me? Least, that’s what you always said.” The woman puts her hand on her consort’s arm. “Together, we’ve got twice as many arrows.”
“Still say you’re a stubborn woman.”
“We’re going to lose everything, no matter what. You know that. We don’t do what we can, each of us, everyone’s going to lose everything. No sense in asking why it falls to us. It does, and that’s that. Now … we’ll go back to the house and plan this out sensible like.”
Lerial does not move as the two turn and walk toward the small brick dwelling, the last one on the lane, away from him. He drops the concealment and smiles because he only feels slightly tired … and that might just be because he has had a long day. At least, that’s what you hope.
He turns the gelding and starts his return south, riding back toward what is likely to be a very temporary camp, his smile vanishing as he thinks over the words of the couple, years older than even his own parents. He smiles wryly as he thinks that, in a way, in their own way, his parents are doing the same thing as the older couple he has overheard.
LXV
Later on twoday, the Lancers from second company join all the other Lancers and archers in creating a set of defenses for Nevnarnia, using shovels and mattocks from two carts that Lerial had not noticed earlier, and he wonders if they had come while he was inspecting the hamlet. Lerial glances into the skies to the south, where trails of smoke still wind into the skies, wondering why the Meroweyans don’t press, and watching as the scouts ride up and report to Altyrn, then ride back out.
After a time, well after the fourth glass of the afternoon, he makes his way to where Altyrn has set up his table under the trees to the east side of the road.
“Ser?”
“Yes, Lerial?”
“Why aren’t they pushing forward?”
“Because they can’t.” The majer smiles at Lerial’s puzzled expression, then goes on. “The larger a force is, the more difficult it is for it to move swiftly. The roads here in the Verd are narrow, at least for thousands of riders and armsmen on foot. If they try to move quickly, they’ll have to form a narrow column, most likely more than two kays long. That would allow us to attack anywhere, and they would lose the advantage of having a much larger force. They’re proceeding deliberately, clearing a wider area on each side of the main road. They’re using their wizards to do that, and that slows them more, because they don’t want them worn out.”
Lerial can see that, but that raises another question. “So why are we-”
“Building a barrier instead of attacking them from the woods? That’s because they’re still too close to the edge of the Verd.”
Abruptly … Lerial understands. “This is only to give them the impression that we will stand and fight.”
“Not exactly. This is likely to be one of the last times we can inflict large numbers of casualties at one time … and we need to do it in a way that will anger their commanders to the point that they will vow to destroy us to the last Lancer and officer.”
That takes Lerial aback.
“We can’t afford to fight Merowey more than once in a generation.” Altyrn’s smile is both sad and weary. “That’s also why you are not-under any circumstances-to attempt to use order until the healer says you can. We will need that skill far more in the eightdays to come than we will now. Your task as captain is to inflict what casualties you can while losing as few rankers as possible. If you and the others can do that, in the end we will win. Now … here’s what you’ll be doing tomorrow…” The majer goes on to explain. When he is finished, he says, “I’ll give you your final orders tomorrow morning, once we know more about what the Meroweyans plan.”