Free Cyador’s Heirs by L. E. Modesitt Jr. Page A

to go into Afrit to do it, and the poachers know that. So they try to steal game, crops, or livestock from Cigoerne. Even if they get caught, their families are safe.”
    “A cruel choice,” says Emerya.
    “It’s a cruel choice for us as well,” points out Kiedron after taking a swallow of wine and setting the goblet on the table. “If we don’t kill at least a few of them, even more will come sneaking into Cigoerne and steal from our people. We’re not a wealthy land, not yet. Duke Atroyan could spare some wheat-corn or maize flour for his people, but he chooses not to. You know we’ve sent what we can to Narthyl and some of the hamlets when we could.”
    Emerya nods slowly, and Lerial gets the impression that she does not fully agree … or that there is something left unsaid, if not both. But then, that is often the case.
    “Lephi’s patrol seemed to go well,” suggests Xeranya.
    “That’s what Captain Jahaal told me at the Lancer headquarters. They did run into some raiders, but not as many as I feared from the earlier reports.”
    “That may be because many are too weak to cross the hills.”
    “It’s possible, and I’m grateful for that. We don’t need hordes of poachers, raiders, and beggars. It will be worse after harvest. The water level in the Thylan is low, and it’s continuing to drop. If it gets much lower, we won’t be able to use some of the older irrigation ditches unless they’re deepened, and some of the growers aren’t listening. By the time they do something, it will be too late.”
    “You can’t order them…?” says Xeranya.
    “I’d rather not. If I do, then I’ll have to punish those who don’t. If I punish them enough that they understand, they won’t be in any condition to dig ditches … or harvest their crops.”
    “What about having some of the Mirror Lancer trainees, the rankers, that is,” suggests Emerya, “work on some of the ditches?”
    “Majer Phortyn is already assigning that duty for disciplinary punishment. That will help some, but not enough. He’s always believed in punishment tasks, rather than flogging.”
    “With his background, how could he not?” asks Emerya.
    “He’s worked hard.” Kiedron gives his sister a hard glance.
    Lerial wonders what lies behind the look, but says nothing.
    “Could some of the Magi’i help, Father?” asks Ryalah, timidly.
    Kiedron laughs, heartily. “I would that they could, little one, but using chaos to dig in the earth is tiring, and there are better uses for the Magi’i.”
    Also, reflects Lerial, earth tends to absorb chaos, so that chaos isn’t that helpful in digging through soil. In the moment of silence that follows, he turns to his father. “Why weren’t there any Magi’i in the Mirror Lancers … or in our Lancers?”
    “There were more Magi’i in Cyador. It was a far bigger land, but we still have Mirror Lancers.”
    “But we don’t have firelances or mirror shields.”
    “They’re still Mirror Lancers, and their training and tactics are better than any other troopers in Hamor or Candar … or anywhere else,” replies Kiedron. “We have over fifteen companies now to protect our people. That’s another reason why Cigoerne has grown and prospered.”
    “And because Grandmother chose where we could settle wisely?”
    “That’s true, but it doesn’t matter how well you choose if you can’t hold and defend what you have.” Kiedron’s voice is jovial, but Lerial can sense, both by the slight edge to his father’s words and by the increase in the chaos surrounding him, that Lerial’s question has annoyed him.
    “Strong Lancers are everything,” adds Lephi in a pontificating tone.
    Lerial debates contesting that, saying that Lancers cannot defend if they don’t have a strong land with crops and herds, and crafters to support them, but he decides against speaking out.
    “I understand you’ve been most diligent in your sparring,” Kiedron looks at Lerial and goes on, in an