Antiagon Fire

26

All in all, the transfer of the troopers and their equipment, including riding gear, took more than three days. Quaeryt had arranged for first company to begin the transfer, sending Vaelora with the second set of ferry trips so that there would be troopers already waiting for her, while he moved back and forth, along with Zhelan, to try to keep the transportation moving smoothly. While the factor owning the ferries hadn’t been especially enthusiastic about using all four at once, Quaeryt managed to persuade him, if with a touch of authoritative image-projection.

The breeze off the shore was light as the Montagne weighed anchor and spread sail at eighth glass on Samedi night, just two glasses before the first day of winter. Quaeryt and Vaelora wore their riding jackets and stood on the upper deck of the sterncastle of the Montagne, looking northward at Ephra, and then to the northeast at the somewhat brighter lights of Kephria.

“It’s getting chill,” she said.

“We’ve been fortunate with the weather so far, only a few rainstorms and a touch of snow flurries in the north.”

“That likely won’t last.”

“I’d be surprised if it did. With the clear skies ahead to the southwest, we’ll likely have at least a day without storms on the voyage. After that, who knows? How are you feeling?”

“Like all my clothes are shrinking.”

“They’re not.”

“I know that, but it’s the way I feel. Pretty soon, I’ll have to start wearing the other garments, and I’ll look like I’m wearing a canvas sail.”

“You’ll never look like that.”

“I feel that way.”

Because Quaeryt had no answer for that, he did not respond immediately.

Vaelora grasped Quaeryt’s arm as the Montagne pitched forward slightly. “It will get rougher than this, won’t it?”

“More than likely, dear.”

“I hope I don’t get sick from it. I was sick enough for the first two months.”

Quaeryt turned as he heard steps on the deck, watching as Nykaal joined them.

“Beautiful evening, isn’t it?” asked the captain.

“It is,” replied Quaeryt. “Your men got everything stowed quickly.”

“That had something to do with the way the gear was organized. You know something of ships, don’t you, Commander?”

“A bit. I was a seaman and then quartermaster apprentice on a merchanter for several years before I became a scholar.”

“And yet you’re a commander now, not to mention an imager.”

Quaeryt wondered how Nykaal had learned that. Possibly from Bhayar’s dispatch … or from his officers or crew listening and asking company officers or men. It really wasn’t a secret, although that was something Quaeryt still wasn’t totally used to, not yet. “I was pushed into leading troops in the Tilboran uprising, under Submarshal Skarpa. One thing led to another.”

“How did you become captain of the Montagne?” Vaelora looked to the ship’s captain.

Nykaal laughed, quietly. “You’re most protective, Lady.”

“Only because my husband has been most protective of me and of my brother and his interests.”

“I would doubt that is solely the reason for your protectiveness, but I admire and commend you for it.”

“It’s far from simple, Captain,” said Quaeryt. “After we ended the uprising, I was acting princeps of Tilbor before Bhayar confirmed me in the post. I was ordered to become temporary governor of Montagne after the eruption there, and was then ordered to form imagers into a fighting force against the Bovarians. I was successful-”

“Exceedingly successful, according to Lord Bhayar. But no one ever suspected … your talents?”

“Lord Bhayar and I have known each other since we were students of the same tutor. He suspected I was more than a scholar, but Lady Vaelora was the one who discovered the usefulness of my abilities. Lord Bhayar punished us both for that by insisting that we wed.”

“Such punishment!” Nykaal laughed, but the laugh faded. “How effective are your imaging abilities at sea?”

“I have no idea. Why do you ask?”

“I hope they will not be necessary, but the Antiagons do have fast vessels with their Fire, and a good captain always seeks all possible defenses.”

“It’s likely we can mitigate such an attack. If you need imaging, let me know, and we will see what we can do.”

“I do appreciate that, Commander, Lady, and I will bid you good evening.” Nykaal inclined his head, then turned and walked back toward the wheel and the steersman.

“He’s worried,” said Vaelora.

“Wouldn’t you be? He’s carrying Bhayar’s sister, and he has two warships, the only ones your brother possesses, and four merchanters, and Aliaro has a fleet of warships. In his boots, I’d be worried, too.”

Vaelora shivered, possibly not from the cold.

“Are you ready for bed?”

“I am. I get tired more easily.”

“I haven’t noticed that.”

“You have. You were insisting I needed more rest just days ago.”

“I haven’t noticed that in the past few days.”

She smiled. “You haven’t been here much … and I did get some rest. The bed in the stateroom is more comfortable than those in the inns.”

“It should be.” Quaeryt took her arm.

As they headed for the ladder leading down to the hatch that afforded access to the captain’s stateroom, Quaeryt gazed briefly off to the starboard, and the dark line of the shore that marked the southern edge of the Gulf of Khellor.

Can you fit everything together? So that it will last?

Vaelora squeezed his hand before she released it to start down the ladder.