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in advance.
Lorn nods. That is good.
And who be these folk, Captain? Dustyn asks.
I am one of them, Lorn says quietly, although it would be better if it were
not widely known until afterwards.
I thought maybe it might be you, Captain, Dustyn says slowly. But when I
asked some merchanters I know about you& no offense, you understand& they said
best they say little. The factor frowns. Seems like you have powerful
friends and as many of power that may not be such, especially&
For a mere lancer captain, you mean? Lorn offers a sardonic smile.
Captain& none d be calling you mere. Even old Kylynzar been mumbling about
how he didn t like much what you wrote him, but he couldn t complain none
about how you d stopped the wild creatures. For him& well& he complains about
aught any time.
I told him we did our best, and that I couldn t guarantee killing every wild
creature that escaped.
You been killing most of em, isn t it so?
So far, Lorn admits, quickly changing the subject. I haven t been consorted
before, and I was in Isahl when my sister was. So what do I do?
Consorting be simple enough. It be after the consorting that it be no longer
simple. Dustyn laughs hoarsely, then clears his throat. Wasyk be the
recorder of consorts and the tax farmer for the Emperor here in Jakaafra. Be
easier n I d thought, cause your havin a place of dwelling means no winking
at whether you be proper in consorting here. Doesn t say which dwelling, but a
man s supposed to be consorted where he has one. Anyway& you and your lady&
Dustyn frowns. Don t recall your saying her name, and I ll be needing that to
give to Wasyk. He waits.
Ryalth& she s an independent trader, and the head of Ryalor House.
Dustyn shakes his head, even as he smiles. Now& some matters be making more
sense. A lancer captain from a Magi i family-I did find that out, not much
more-consorting to one of the powerful rising trading houses& more n a few
not be pleased to see that kind of alliance&
Why& because they worry about mage blood in merchanter offspring? The
children can only claim either merage or altage heritage. So what do we have
to do?
Plain forgot to finish& you sign the register in front of Wasyk and seal it
there with a silver. That be it, so far as the Emperor s concerned.
Lorn somehow doubts that.
And then your troubles are your own.
They re always our own. Lorn pauses, then adds, I have to be on patrol
starting tomorrow. If the lady should arrive& well, she has the welcome of the
dwelling& if you understand and would assist in that?
That I can do with great pleasure. Dustyn frowns. She be truly the house
leader of Ryalor House?
Absolutely.
Ryalth& Captain Lorn& Ryalor& Dustyn shakes his head. Should a figured& I
should.
Lorn forces a laugh. Leave the figuring to others, Dustyn, and Ryalor House
will continue to help you prosper.
Oh, that I will, ser. That I will. Owe you two far too much to be flapping my
chin, outside a my own place, you see, that is&
And to make sure you prosper& Lorn slips a silver into Dustyn s hand.
Ser& you needn t&
I need not, but times have not been easy for you.
Thank you, ser, and I will be taking the best care when the lady trader
should arrive.
I know you will. Lorn glances toward the door. And I have to ready a
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company for another patrol.
You do that, ser, and I ll be watching out for you.
Lorn nods as he steps toward the door, and the cold ride back to the compound.
XCIX
Fat and wet snowflakes swirl past Lorn, so heavily that he cannot see the
ward-wall from the perimeter road from where he rides with Kusyl and the
second squad, so thickly that he is continually brushing slush and water from
his forehead. He ignores the headache that accompanies the snow.
After briefly considering stopping the patrol, he decides against it, at least
for a time. The biggest danger is fallen tree trunks, and even the snow won t
hide anything that large.
You think this will last, ser?
I hope not. Usually, the big flakes don t. Then, we re going on furlough
after this patrol. Lorn says with a rueful laugh that carries the fifteen
cubits between their mounts. With our luck, a cubit of it will fall on the
deadland.
They both know that while the green crowns of the giant trees of the Accursed
Forest may accept some snow, it will neither remain nor filter into the warmer
green below.
Or it ll turn to rain and freeze, counters Kusyl.
Let s hope not. Lorn has had enough of patrols in cold and wet rain.
May not get any tree-falls.
Let s hope not.
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