Antiagon Fire

41

The ride back to Kherseilles took six long days, a day less than the trip to Saendeol had required, partly because Quaeryt and Vaelora had not wanted to remain in Khel any longer than necessary, and partly because Quaeryt had begun to worry even more about what was happening along the Bovarian border with Antiago.

Just after sunset on Solayi evening, first company reined up short of the harbor piers at Kherseilles. As Quaeryt had suspected, the four merchanters were long gone, and the Montagne and the Solis were tied up at opposite sides of the longest stone pier. He was about to ride out to the Montagne when a single rider approached.

In the growing twilight it took Quaeryt a moment after the man reined up to recognize Subcommander Khaern.

“Commander, sir. We weren’t certain when you’d be back. We took the liberty of turning two of the warehouses-the ones that were not in terrible condition-into quarters. The inns here…” Khaern shook his head. “That will leave space on the Montagne for first company.”

Quaeryt smiled. “I certainly don’t have a problem with that, but I’ll need to talk with Captain Nykaal and you. Matters aren’t what we’d like, and Lady Vaelora and I need to hear what’s happened here so that we can decide what to do next. In a half glass on the Montagne?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh … and you and Subcommander Calkoran will need to work out quarters for his battalion after I spend a few moments with him.”

Khaern nodded.

“Good.” Quaeryt turned in the saddle. “Subcommander Calkoran … I’d like you to join us for the meeting on the Montagne. I’d also like a word with you before that … once we’ve unloaded.”

“Yes, sir.” Calkoran’s voice remained slightly subdued, as it had been on the entire journey back from Saendeol.

Quaeryt, Vaelora, and first company then rode along the stone pier until they reached the Montagne. After dismounting and seeing that his and Vaelora’s gear, and Vaelora, were safely aboard, Quaeryt returned to the pier to meet with Calkoran.

As he stood there and the Pharsi subcommander walked toward him in the light breeze off the water, surprisingly raw to Quaeryt, although in a sense it felt warmer than the inland winds, Quaeryt couldn’t help but feel compassion for Calkoran, who had been punished far more for trying to do the right thing by his men than so many officers who’d actually done the wrong things and never been discovered. One of the ironies of war and battle.

“Sir?”

“How fast can your battalion make the journey from Kherseilles to Geusyn?”

“A good ten days, maybe more if the weather is bad.”

“Are you willing to do that? We’re going to need every man possible.”

“Antiago?”

“Either Antiago or the southern High Holders, if not both.”

“Sir … we’ve not spoken … about the future.”

“No … we haven’t. Are you willing to remain in service?”

“Yes, sir.”

Quaeryt understood what lay behind those words. What other real choice does he have? “In time, Lord Bhayar will be properly grateful. At the moment it’s a good thing we’re as far from Variana as we are.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Lord Bhayar would prefer others see what he would call reason. I believe that will happen. It just won’t happen for a while, and it’s better to let time and distance separate us while events make that point rather than have to explain it in person.”

The faintest smile crossed Calkoran’s face before fading away.

“I’ll leave the arrangements to you, but I can likely spare a hundred golds from what Lord Bhayar provided to help with supplies and other necessities. I’d like you to leave as soon as possible after we depart. We’ll talk about the timing after we meet with Nykaal and Khaern.” Quaeryt paused. “One other thing. What about the mounts that the Council provided?”

Calkoran snorted. “We paid for them. The Council merely allowed us to purchase them.”

“Then take them with you, regardless of the Council’s decree. They might make the trip easier.”

“If you had not suggested that, I would have,” Calkoran paused. “Sir … there is one other matter. I would be remiss…”

“Go ahead.”

“There have been other sons of Erion. There was Calixen, who was drowned in a flood, and Polysses, who fell from the sky and the road of Erion. They are among those we remember. Do you know why?” Calkoran’s voice was soft, almost sad.

“No.”

“Because they failed. They failed because they turned from their destiny and sought glory and power for themselves. We remember those who failed. No one remembers those who were true to their destiny and did not seek glory.”

Quaeryt tried not to shiver at the honest certainty in the voice of the Khellan officer. Finally, he said, “Thank you.”

“You should know.”

Quaeryt nodded. “Until later, then.” He watched as Calkoran rode back to the foot of the long stone pier.

It was close to seventh glass when Quaeryt, Vaelora, Nykaal, Khaern, and Calkoran gathered around the circular table in the captain’s stateroom on the Montagne. Quaeryt stood, letting the others sit. He began by summarizing the events of their journey, then concluded, “We believe that, in time, the Khellan High Council will agree to some form of agreement. If they do, there is nothing to be gained by remaining in Kherseilles. If they do not, there is also no reason to remain here, since we do not have the resources to conduct or even begin a campaign, especially given the bitter winters in the north and west of Khel.” He turned to the ship’s captain. “Have you received any messages from anyone?”

“No, sir.”

“Have you seen any Antiagon ships?”

“I’ve had the pinnaces patrolling. Wouldn’t have wanted anyone to come in and catch us unaware. Two or three sails … might have been Antiagon. They didn’t come close enough to the harbor to be sure.”

“How many men can you and the Solis transport back to Ephra-or Geusyn?”

“On a single voyage?” asked Nykaal. “Might be able to handle seven hundred. Eight hundred would be pushing it.”

“How soon could you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“We’ll have to push it … twice.” Quaeryt ignored the captain’s frown. “We can’t afford to make three trips to get first company and the regiment back to Geusyn, and Subcommander Calkoran barely has enough spare mounts for a company.”

“It won’t be comfortable, sir,” said Nykaal.

“I understand, Captain. Believe me, I do. But I have reason to believe that Submarshal Skarpa may need as many additional regiments as possible as soon as practicable, and we will accomplish nothing by remaining here.”

“As you wish, Commander.”

Quaeryt could tell that Nykaal was less than pleased. “You have some concerns that you have not voiced, Captain? Is there something I should know?” Quaeryt image-projected both sincerity and concern.

“Nothing that I could put a finger on, sir.” Nykaal paused. “Winds might not favor us.”

“At this time of year? They’re usually out of the southwest on the west of Lydar,” said Quaeryt.

For just a moment, Nykaal looked surprised.

“Unless they’ve changed in the years since I was a quartermaster,” added Quaeryt.

Again … there was the slightest hesitation before the captain said, “You’re right. Most of the time they are, but in Ianus … you can’t always count on it.”

“We’ll have to chance that, and you will have imagers for protection on the first voyage.”

“That’d be true enough.” Nykaal smiled. “That’s a comfort. Is there anything else?”

“At what glass should we begin loading tomorrow?”

“You want an early departure. Say fourth glass.”

Quaeryt looked to Khaern. “I’ll need you to stay here and hold Kherseilles until the Montagne and Solis return. I’ve leave it to you as to which two battalions you want to embark.”

“Second and fourth, sir. They’ll be ready to load out at fourth glass. If you wouldn’t mind…”

“Go. You have a lot to handle.” Quaeryt smiled warmly at the subcommander.

Close to two glasses passed before Quaeryt finally finished dealing with Nykaal, giving last moment instructions to Calkoran, and going over loading plans with Nykaal and Bourlyt, the captain of the Solis. His eyes were twitching, and he was sore all over when he finally sat on the edge of the wide bunk of the captain’s cabin and pulled off his boots.

“Is everything settled?” asked Vaelora, gently in, as usual, high Bovarian.

“As much as it can be tonight.” He yawned. “It’s been a long day, and tomorrow will be early.” Too early. “Do you have any idea why Nykaal is worried?”

“I don’t think he wants to head back.”

“Why not?”

“It could be that it has nothing to do with him, but you.”

“Someone doesn’t want me back in Bovaria too soon?”

“That’s only a guess.”

“It can’t be Skarpa.”

“No … but it could be almost any other senior officer. Deucalon, Myskyl, or one of their commanders. Or … it could be that Nykaal has other reasons.”

“Or he’s worried about what the Antiagons might do when he returns to Ephra?” Quaeryt shook his head. “I’d doubt that.”

“We’ll just have to watch and see.”

As with everything else.