Heritage of Cyador (saga of recluce Book 18) by Jr. L. E. Modesitt Read Free Book Online Page B

enough? When we had less than twenty six years ago? And you feel you can only spare three companies to aid Atroyan? Three companies—not enough to weaken Cigoerne if you lose—and enough to strike fear into both Khesyn and Atroyan if you win. That assumes that there will be any fighting at all, and it’s possible that there will not be … but then again.
    “Khesyn has been raising armsmen for ten years now, and that doesn’t count what he pays the raiders to attack us.”
    Lerial nods. He had no idea matters are that dire.
    Little more is said other than pleasantries, few as they are, for the remainder of breakfast, and, as he stands and leaves, Lerial ponders over the clearly scripted exchange between Emerya and his father. Why had his father felt it necessary? Did his mother really want Lephi … or even his father … to go to Luba?
    Lerial suspects she had … and that bothers him. Still, his father has brought up the issue before most of the family, and Lerial has no doubts that he is being sent because he is the most expendable, and because sending an heir, even the most junior, allows his father not to commit more Mirror Lancers. His father also expects him to use his order-chaos skills, if discreetly.
    After deciding to wait in the north courtyard until Commander Jhalet arrives, Lerial makes his way into the early-morning sunshine there.
    “Lerial!” Ryalah runs toward him, then stops and walks the last yards much more sedately, allowing Amaira to join her. “Why did Mother get so angry? I just asked.”
    “I still think it’s awful that no one wants to consort you,” adds Amaira shyly. “Why can’t you consort Rojana?”
    “What gave you that idea?” asks Lerial, half amused and half concerned … and wondering where Amaira came up with that idea.
    “When she and her father and mother visited the palace last year. We talked, both of us. She talked a lot about you.”
    They visited last year … and no one told me? “They were here?”
    “Just for a day,” replies Amaira. “I thought you knew.”
    “Perhaps Father mentioned it, and it just skipped my mind.”
    “Rojana’s very nice,” says Ryalah.
    “She’s very intelligent and very attractive,” Lerial admits. “But it wouldn’t be a good thing for her to consort me.”
    “So you’ll have to consort whoever Father says?”
    “Most likely.”
    “That’s awful.”
    “It’s necessary. So will you, when you’re older.”
    Ryalah grimaces. “What if I don’t like him?”
    “You shouldn’t worry about that now. It’ll be years before you’re old enough.”
    “What about Amaira?”
    “That’s up to Aunt Emerya.”
    “You mean she doesn’t have to, and I do? That’s not fair.” Ryalah looks to her cousin.
    “Sometimes, life isn’t fair…” With the thought of fairness, Lerial thinks about Emerya … and Maeroja, or Korlyn, or Alaynara, or even the lancer who died on Lerial’s first riding expedition with Altyrn.
    “It should be,” declares Ryalah.
    “People are the ones who can make life fair,” says Amaira.
    Your mother said that, didn’t she? Lerial is certain of that, especially now that Amaira has taken to accompanying her mother to the Hall of Healing, but he only says, “That’s true, and sometimes it’s very hard to be fair to everyone at the same time.” He can order-sense riders coming into the palace courtyard and smiles at the two. “I have to go meet with Father and Commander Jhalet. I’ll see you later.”
    “You won’t go until you do?” asks Ryalah.
    “No … I won’t.”
    Lerial walks briskly to his father’s study, nods to the guard, and enters.
    Kiedron looks up from behind his desk. “Is the commander here?”
    “There are lancers in the courtyard. I imagine he’ll be here shortly.”
    “You didn’t greet him?”
    “I heard them enter,” Lerial lies. “I was in the center courtyard. So I came here.”
    Kiedron frowns momentarily, then nods.
    Several moments later, the