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one-and two-storied white granite structures inside the square of walls that
stretch a good kay or more on a side. The compound at Geliendra is twice the
size of the one at Syadtar& if not more.
The undercaptain glances sideways at Lorn.
Lorn offers a wry smile.  This is a new station for me, too, Nythras.
Although it is almost exactly midwinter, the air is warm, as warm as late
spring in Isahl, and damp, as damp as the sea air coming off the harbor in
Cyad. Lorn takes a slow breath, trying to identify the muted fragrances and
odors, a melange of scents that partakes of frysia, the decomposition of
stable straw, and other floral scents new to him.
Lorn studies the layout for but a moment, then walks directly toward the large
whitened granite building before them. While he can see officers and Lancer
rankers entering and leaving the buildings farther to the north, there are
none entering or leaving the nearest. He ducks inside the archway of the first
building, glancing toward the junior squad leader who sits at a narrow table
in the foyer at the end of a short corridor, much as Kielt had done at Isahl.
The squad leader looks up.  Captain, ser?
 Captain Lorn. I m reporting in. Is this the Commander s headquarters?
 Ah& yes, ser.
 Where should I report?
 The third building back, ser, the second archway.
 Thank you. Lorn smiles and steps back outside. In the damp and warm air of
Geliendra, especially in his winter-weight uniform and under the direct sun,
he is beginning to sweat.  Third building, he tells the undercaptain.
 You didn t think it was that one, did you?
 No. But it s faster to ask than try them all. Lorn grins.  You only look
uninformed once that way.
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Lorn leads the way to and then into the front archway into the third building
back, a low one-story granite-walled structure that, for all its cleanliness
and spare lines, still radiates age. A heavy-set squad leader, one of the most
rotund lancers Lorn has ever beheld, bulges over the wide table that holds a
dozen wooden boxes, each filled with stacks of paper. He looks up as the two
officers appear.
 This is where we report? Lorn asks.
 Yes, ser. The squad leader s voice is a mellow tenor.
 Captain Lorn, reporting, squad leader. Lorn offers an easy smile along with
the words.
 Undercaptain Nythras, the black-haired junior officer adds.
Lorn shows his seal ring, then proffers his orders. Nythras follows the
captain s example.
 Squad Leader Kulurt, sers. The heavy-set lancer nods politely and scans the
two scrolls before speaking again.  Captain Lorn&  The squad leader nods as he
speaks, and his jowls quiver.  Commander Meylyd has been expecting you, and
asked me to let him know as soon as you arrived. If you would wait for a
moment& 
Lorn nods.
Kulurt heaves himself out of the white oak chair, nods again to the two
officers, lumbers down the corridor directly behind his table.
Nythras glances at Lorn.  They know who you are.
Lorn doubts that is for the best.  They know who you are also. You ll see.
Kulurt returns almost immediately, breathing slightly heavily.  Undercaptain
Nythras, the Commander will see you after he finishes with Captain Lorn,
Kulurt explains to the more junior officer before gesturing to the corridor.
 The Commander s study is the first door on the left, Captain Lorn.
 Thank you. Lorn leaves his gear against the wall and slips around the squad
leader. The study door is open, and he steps inside. The study is roughly
fifteen cubits square and contains little beside the desk and the chair behind
it, a single chest-high bookcase to the right of the desk, and five armless
chairs set out in a semicircle facing the desk. On the wall facing the door,
two large windows, their panes and shutters open, admit both light and a
pleasant breeze. All the furniture is of white oak, burnished by time into a
deep gold. On the desk are three boxes filled with papers, an inkwell, and a
pen holder. Fastened on the wall behind the commander s desk is a
green-bordered wall hanging. Inside the border are four stylized golden towers
set in a diamond pattern. Four narrow lightning bolts connect the towers, and
within the lightning-bolt-enclosed diamond is the black outline of a single
leafless tree-a tree with four gnarled branches twisting up and out from the
trunk. The tips of the branches curve back from the lightning bolts.
Commander Meylyd is standing behind the polished golden surface of his table
desk as Lorn enters and bows.
 Captain Lorn, ser.
The tall and slender commander offers a warm smile, with both his eyes and
mouth.  Captain Lorn& it s good that you re here.
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