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“Do the elves know? Does the Lady?”
“The elves have not told me, if they do, and since they love trees, I can’t imagine they would keep it secret if they did. Here is what I want you to do: since we do not know yet how many they are, and exactly what they purpose, you must prepare yourselves for several possibilities.” Kieri outlined these, and explained what preparations were needed for each. “You see there is much to be done, and you can accomplish this, if you start now, and do not panic.”
“Are you going north?”
“Not yet.” He saw relief on most faces; it surprised him. His own troops—his former troops, he reminded himself—were most confident when their commander took the field with them. These people seemed to want him near them … but then, it was the same impulse, just expressed differently.
Through the afternoon, his annoyance with the Lady’s nonappearance grew; he tried to ignore it, lest it further disturb the taig. But where was she? Where could she go that he could not feel at least the touch of her power? He felt less keenly another fire blaze in the north; Orlith, he saw as he looked up, was monitoring it closely.
“I think the rangers are able to quench the fires,” Orlith said. “It is nothing new.”
“It is ordinary fire so far,” Kieri said. “I do not trust that it will always be. If I had a weapon of unquenchable fire, I would not necessarily use it first.”
“Why not?”
“I would see how well ordinary fire did … I would probe my enemy’s defenses. An extraordinary weapon kept in reserve for the right moment has greater effect.”
Orlith stared at him for a moment then shook his head. “I had not thought of that. Truly, your experience as a war leader may be more valuable than I thought.”
“It usually is, if you’re in a war,” Kieri said. He finished the stack of orders before him. He felt stiff and stale—it would be turns of the glass yet before a courier would arrive. “I’m going to the salle for practice, and then a bath before dinner.” He pushed himself to his feet. “Aulin, Sarol, have you had practice today?”
“No, Sir King. The others went earlier.”
“Then come along; you can rotate in.”
In practice garb, and with another mug of sib, he ran down the stairs, followed by his Squires, and found Carlion and Siger putting a group of lads in palace livery through elementary footwork drills.
“I wondered when you’d show up, m’lord,” Siger said. “Knew you were busy.”
“Busy, but not about to miss both my practices,” Kieri said. “You’d never let me hear the end of it.” He hung his sword up and began stretching, trying not to rush—it would not do to hurry through this, not in front of both senior armsmasters, one of whom knew him very well indeed.
Sure enough, Siger came over and watched critically. “Get that elbow right straight out, m’lord. You’ve another thumb width of reach that way … and your foot’s not at the right angle.”