Antiagon Fire

5

Sunlight poured in through the small leaded panes of the tower window on Vendrei morning barely after dawn. The diffused illumination turned the top of the ancient oak bedstead a dark gold, a gold Quaeryt had restored from the white to which his semiconscious imaging had turned everything around him after the battle. He still wasn’t certain that their chambers looked as they once had, although he had needed to re-image the finish of the stone walls and the floor more than once to meet Vaelora’s standards.

Quaeryt turned slightly, reaching for her, only to find that she already had moved to a sitting position in the wide bed and was propping another pillow behind her back.

Quaeryt smiled broadly at her.

“Not this morning, dearest. My back is aching, and I’m sore all over. No one mentioned that those sorts of things happened when you’re with child.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he admitted.

“Both Bhayar and Deucalon were eager to mention you are an imager, but neither mentioned that you had acted as a chorister? Bhayar even made sure that never came up.”

“You know exactly what that means, devious woman.”

“Me? Devious? How could you say that? I was the one who approached you in the beginning, was I not?”

“I stand corrected. Perhaps you’d prefer ‘deceptively direct,’ dear one?”

Vaelora laughed, that low husky sound that Quaeryt had always liked. “For all that you protest, dearest, you do have a way with words … and not just in delivering homilies.”

“I wish you were receptive to my other ways…” Quaeryt grinned, mock-lasciviously.

Vaelora arched both eyebrows. “What are your plans for the day?”

“I have to plan for the day?” When Vaelora only replied with a despairing look, Quaeryt finally answered her question. “I will rise, wash up, dress, eat breakfast, and proceed from there.”

“What about the nineteen glasses you’ve left out?”

“And when I finish, I’ll try to get seven solid glasses of sleep.”

“Dearest…”

Because that long-drawn out word was not an endearment, Quaeryt capitulated. “I need to meet with the imager undercaptains individually, especially Khalis and Lhandor. Skarpa and I also need to talk over the arrangements for travel for nine-odd regiments. If the day goes the way they usually do, I’ll discover more that I will have to deal with. Oh … and I may send imagers to repair an anomen.” He smiled as cheerfully as he could. “What about you?”

“Trying to get the estate seamstress to sew some riding clothes that will fit me in the months ahead.”

“In three days?”

“I can be persuasive, you’ve always said.”

“That you are, and you’ve persuaded me that it’s time to get up.” Quaeryt did not quite bound from the bed.

“Of course, dearest.”

Quaeryt didn’t bother hiding the wince, especially since Vaelora left the bed in a movement carrying hints of a flounce … and disapproval.

Washing up and dressing were accomplished with polite phrases.

Early as they were in getting to the small breakfast room that served only the three of them, Bhayar was getting up from the table when Quaeryt and Vaelora appeared.

“You’re up earlier today.”

“Quaeryt is feeling much more energetic these mornings,” said Vaelora brightly.

This time, Quaeryt managed not to wince.

Bhayar laughed. “I’ve heard those words from someone else. At least, you’re still talking to each other. Or should be.” With a smile he glanced at Quaeryt. “We’ll talk before I have dinner. I’m entertaining several High Holders from the northeast of Variana-at their request.”

“After you sent an indirect invitation?” Quaeryt doubted any Bovarian High Holder would request a meeting with Bhayar without some indication of receptivity and personal safety.

“Something like that.”

“You’d like to see me at fifth glass?”

“Around then.”

Once Bhayar had left them alone in the breakfast chamber, Vaelora said quietly, “You are fortunate, dearest, that I am slightly more forgiving than Aelina … but only slightly.”

“I’ve always said I was fortunate in you,” Quaeryt murmured in reply, breaking off what else he might have said as the serving girl appeared with two mugs.

“Tea, sir and Lady?”

“Please,” said Vaelora.

Quaeryt nodded, then added, after the server had set the mugs before them and departed to bring breakfast, “Very fortunate, but it is difficult at times not to appreciate you excessively.”

“I do appreciate your affection. I cannot always accept it in the spirit in which it is offered.”

Those words hold all too many meanings. “I understand.” How could you not, even if you don’t like it?

Vaelora offered a smile. “You are a very stubborn man.”

“You wouldn’t wish me otherwise.”

“Nor I either, dearest.”

He chuckled ruefully.

After breakfast, Quaeryt made his way from the hold house and was waiting in the foyer at the estate guest house and staff headquarters when Zhelan returned following muster.

“Commander?”

“It will be a busy day. I’ll start with the imagers…”

“They’re in the second tack room off the main stables. That was the best I could do.”

“That will be fine. After that, I’ll need an escort squad to the boat piers serving the Great Canal. Have you seen Kharst’s canal boat?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. That might be the first thing in weeks where you haven’t anticipated me. Have you been able to locate a scholars’ house, or a scholarium?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Zhelan. “There’s one some four to five milles up the river, on this side. There’s also one, I’m told, that’s even larger in Laaryn.”

“I’ll need a squad to accompany me to the one upriver tomorrow. I need to see the scholars before we leave on Lundi. Are there any supplies we’re short of that you need me to persuade someone to release or find?”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” Not that it’s as good as all that. Quaeryt suspected that Zhelan was having little difficulty because any senior Telaryn officer would be pleased to see Quaeryt leaving Variana. “Plan on two glasses before I’ll need to leave for the piers. Oh … and some of the imagers will need a squad to escort them to the Anomen Regis … the one across from the Chateau Regis.”

Zhelan offered a look of inquiry.

“Lord Bhayar would like to offer some repairs to the chorister there. Let’s go and see the undercaptains.” Quaeryt turned and walked toward the door. When he stepped outside, back into the cool late-autumn air, he saw several commanders walking toward them.

“Greetings,” offered Pulaskyr, one of the few Quaeryt knew by more than name.

“Greetings.”

Pulaskyr stopped a yard from Quaeryt. “How are you finding Subcommander Alazyn?”

“He seems well grounded and not difficult to work with.” As Quaeryt spoke, he couldn’t help but notice how the other three commanders eased away from them and slipped into the building serving as headquarters. “I believe that’s your doing, and I do appreciate it.”

“Thank you. I did tell Skarpa that I thought he’d do well under your command.”

“He’d mentioned that.”

“You’re heading west?”

“To try to persuade the Khellans that they’d do better under Bhayar. It’s better than another campaign,” Quaeryt said.

“If it doesn’t turn into one,” replied Pulaskyr with a laugh. With a smile the older commander turned and continued into the building.

Quaeryt and Zhelan turned and walked toward the main stable, then through the open sliding doors and to the second tack room.

When Quaeryt stepped into the small room, with its racked saddles and bridles and other gear, the eight imager undercaptains all stiffened to attention.

“As you were.” Quaeryt stood just inside the door and waited a moment. “Among other things, I wanted to tell all of you how impressed I am with the work you did in restoring and repairing the Chateau Regis. I was there the other day and had a good look around. You did yourselves proud, all of you.” He smiled broadly, then went on to explain the mission assigned by Bhayar … and the day’s chore of accomplishing what repairs they could on the Anomen Regis. When he finished, he asked, “Do you have any questions?”

“Just two regiments and first company heading into Khel, sir?” asked Desyrk.

“And all of you. That should be sufficient.” I hope. “Besides, bringing a larger force would suggest we intend to fight. We may have to, but that’s not Lord Bhayar’s intention. I’d like to think that the High Council will prove reasonable. I’m not much interested in slaughtering people who should be allies, but the last thing we need is another independent country in Lydar, and the last thing the Khellans need is to make Bhayar angry. Our job is to get those messages across.”

The questions after that involved details, the answers to some of which Quaeryt referred to Zhelan. When there were no more questions, Quaeryt announced, “I’ll be meeting briefly with each of you, beginning with Undercaptain Voltyr. The rest of you can wait outside.”

In moments Quaeryt and Voltyr stood alone in the small tack room, Quaeryt half marveling at how much had changed in the year and a half since the summer day when Voltyr and Quaeryt had been sitting on the porch of the scholarium in Solis and Voltyr had asked Quaeryt, then a mere scholar assistant to Bhayar, what he hoped to gain from traveling to Tilbor.

“You did an outstanding job in supervising the others in refinishing the inside of the Chateau Regis. I hope you can do something with the anomen today, as well.”

Voltyr shifted his weight from one boot to the other, smiling almost sheepishly, although Quaeryt thought he saw a certain spark in Voltyr’s gray eyes.

Finally, the undercaptain replied, “I kept them on task. I’m no crafter. Baelthm was the one who made sure all the imaging was perfect, and he did most of the final smooth-imaging, if you will. They also had to repair some of the outside ornamentation as well.”

“I appreciate the honesty. Is there anything he did that was particularly outstanding?”

“The frieze over the main entrance was totally destroyed. Baelthm and Lhandor created the entire scene from nothing.”

“That scene of the chateau rising above the gardens? They did that?”

“Yes, sir.” Voltyr smiled slightly. “You might not have noticed, but … do you recall the riders on the left side, opposite the images meant to be Bhayar and the senior officers?”

“I recall the hunters. A small grouping…”

“Their leader bears a remarkable similarity to a certain recently promoted commander. Baelthm told me he would prefer you not know.”

“Thank you for letting me know. How were the other imagers?”

“Threkhyl was most helpful in rearranging the exterior steps and walls, as was Horan. Smaethyl helped all around. So did Desyrk. Khalis was almost as good as Baelthm with the details, and he works hard, harder than the others. He reminds me of Shaelyt.”

“I miss Shaelyt,” replied Quaeryt. “He was a good imager, and he would have been a superior officer.” Is that why there are so many like Myskyl and Deucalon as senior officers? Because the ones who won’t order their men to do anything unless they’ve done it or are doing it have a greater chance of getting killed before they can get promoted out of danger?

The next undercaptain Quaeryt saw was Threkhyl.

“I understand you were most helpful in restructuring the front area of the Chateau Regis.”

“The whole front of the chateau was a mess. That wasn’t from our imaging, either. Chateau that big, and a narrow drive barely wide enough for a single carriage…” Threkhyl shook his head and continued on.

After listening to Threkhyl, Quaeryt talked to Desyrk, always reserved and polite, and then waited for Baelthm, the oldest of the imager undercaptains, and by far the weakest imager.

“Good morning, Commander.” Baelthm inclined his head.

“Good morning. Undercaptain Voltyr has told me, without your artistic talent, refinishing the interior of the Chateau Regis would have taken longer and been of far lesser quality.”

“Some of it, sir, was just using imaging to strengthen what was there and to bond it back to the stone, especially on the inner outside walls … not all that bad. Smaethyl and Horan, even Threkhyl, helped with the heavy imaging. You taught me how to do more than I thought I could. Still needed help.”

“You and Lhandor had to recreate the main entry frieze?”

Baelthm snorted. “No one could tell us even what had been there. Now that, sir, I’ll have to say, took some doing. Whatever you did to the outer walls … well, it made them harder than any stone I’ve ever seen, and whatever was there before collapsed. I think it was a plaster cast or carved plaster or something just as soft. Took both me and young Lhandor, sir. I’m a crafter, maybe an imager crafter, but a crafter. No artist. Lhandor, he made the design and drew the figures, and then we worked on it together. Solid young fellow, he is…”

Quaeryt mostly listened, as he did with Horan and Smaethyl.

After them came Lhandor, one of the two remaining Pharsi undercaptains.

“Lhandor, Baelthm was most complimentary of your design of the ornamentation…”

“Thank you, sir. I’ve always liked to draw.” The young Pharsi officer looked down for a moment.

“Where did you learn that?”

“At home. My mother … she has skill along those lines. Her uncle was a cartographer back in Khel.”

Quaeryt had suspected something along those lines, but Lhandor and Khalis had arrived in the middle of the campaign, and Quaeryt hadn’t had the time to draw them out as much as he would have liked. “Where in Khel did your family come from?”

“Pointe Neiman. She came with my aunt as a child when my uncle had to … leave Khel many years ago. She never said why. I was raised near Estisle.”

“Not Nacliano?”

“Oh, no, sir. They can’t abide Pharsi there. A hamlet south on the south end of Estisle. It’s mostly rocks there.”

“What did your uncle do?”

“He drew maps for Ghasphar. He was the High Holder who owns all the diamond ships out of Estisle. I helped him, my uncle, some for the last year before … before I was sent to serve.”

Quaeryt couldn’t help but ask, “Does High Holder Ghasphar have ties to Khel?”

“I heard that his grandfather was from Ouestan, but when I asked Uncle Haelyn about it, he told me not to say a word, especially not in Estisle.”

“But you liked drawing things other than maps?” asked Quaeryt with a slight smile.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’d like you to give some thought to something larger. If we are successful in bringing peace to Khel, Lord Bhayar is likely to be amenable to our creating something like a scholarium for imagers here in Variana. We would have to build it, of course, but … Is coming up with a rough design for that something you’d be interested in?”

“Yes, sir!” Lhandor paused. “But … where would it be? I mean … designs aren’t much good if they’re not suited to the place they’ll be built.”

“I don’t know for certain, but the isle of piers is one possibility.”

“Could I ride over there and look?”

“Of course. But you’ll have to do it today … after you work on the anomen.”

“I can do that, sir.”

Quaeryt couldn’t help but smile as the young Pharsi undercaptain departed with a spring in his step.

Khalis was the last of the undercaptains to enter the tack room, and the youngest. While he reminded Quaeryt of Shaelyt, with the exception of the light amber-honey Pharsi complexion and dark hair, there were few physical similarities. The resemblance lay more in the quiet thoughtfulness.

“Where will we be going in Khel, sir?”

“Generally up the Groral River from Kherseilles to Khelgror.”

“That’s a long way, farther than from Ferravyl to Variana, sir.”

“True enough, but I’m hopeful we won’t have to fight our way up the river.”

“No, sir.” Khalis moistened his lips. “Didn’t Subcommander Calkoran … isn’t that what he was supposed to be doing?”

“Lord Bhayar is concerned that the subcommander isn’t likely to be believed without a certain … reinforcement.”

“Even if they believe him, sir, they will likely want to talk and talk and talk.”

“You’ve seen that?”

“Not in Khel, sir. Only in my family, but my grandpere said his father left Khel because he could never get anyone in the family there to agree with him.”

“So he came to Lucayl where there was no one older to disagree?” Quaeryt smiled.

“Something like that, sir.” Khalis paused, then added, “Except my great-grandmere.”

More likely it was the great-grandmere who wanted to leave. “That happens in some families.”

When Quaeryt finished, he met briefly with Zhelan again.

It was well past the first glass of the afternoon before Quaeryt and fourth squad reached the river piers just north of where the Great Canal diverged from the River Aluse, heading westward across the mostly level lands south of Tuuryl to where, hundreds of milles farther west, it ended at the River Laar.

He made a careful inspection of Kharst’s canal boat, then spent time seeing to the arrangements for supply boats, and the mules to tow all those required. After that, for close to a glass, he studied the master map of the canal, checking the distances and planning stops, then rode back to the hold house. Once there, after stabling the mare, he met again with Skarpa to talk over the logistics and the timetable for travel to Ephra.

He was waiting in the corridor outside Bhayar’s study by two quints before fifth glass. He waited another quint before Bhayar summoned Quaeryt into the study.

“What have you been doing today?” asked the Lord of Telaryn.

Quaeryt told him, briefly.

“That sounds better than my day.” Bhayar paused. “You’ve alluded to this before, but Myskyl cares little for you. Is there more to this than what happened with Rescalyn?”

“Does there have to be more than that?”

Bhayar laughed. “What happened today wasn’t why I wanted to see you, but you might get a chuckle out of it.” He motioned to the chairs in front of the table desk, then seated himself and waited for Quaeryt to sit down. “Myskyl accompanied Deucalon to the marshal’s morning briefing here. Deucalon held up a letter and read from it. It was from a factor in Villerive. His name was Farrcoyn or Saarcoyn … something like that. This factor was professing his loyalty to me, but he also wrote to express his appreciation for one of my senior officers, a subcommander named Quaeryt, or some such. He wrote that you took possession of his dwelling and grounds after the battle of Villerive in a most professional manner, and that when you and your battalion departed, you left almost no trace of their occupation. He appreciated that.”

Quaeryt frowned. “I recall that, but … what was the problem?”

“Deucalon was most displeased. He insisted that there was a vast difference between professionalism and unwarranted leniency. Myskyl said nothing.” Bhayar smiled. “If you had been here, what would you have said?”

“Something along the line that I would agree wholeheartedly with the marshal, that had the factor been uncooperative, my efforts not to destroy his livelihood would definitely have been unwarranted. But I would have pointed out that a number of High Holders who stripped their holdings of everything, including provisions we could have used, are being allowed to retain those lands and holdings. I don’t believe that you, or those of us serving you, should employ one standard for factors and another for High Holders, especially when the factor in question was nearly as wealthy as some lesser High Holders. Doing so would undercut your support among the factors without gaining you any more support at all among the High Holders.”

Bhayar nodded. “I thought your reply might be something like that. I merely thanked the marshal for his concerns and said I would bring the matter up with you.”

“I suspect Myskyl brought the matter to Deucalon’s attention. I would not wish to speculate on why that might be.”

“Vaelora would … and has.”

“She is often more perceptive than I … and more careful in her words.”

“And if Myskyl did suggest Deucalon’s words?”

“You would know far better than I,” Quaeryt pointed out.

“What I do know is that I’ll be relieved when my submarshals are away from Variana and you are on your way to Khel.” Bhayar sat back slightly and tilted his head to the left. “That leaves another matter. Do you honestly believe that you and your imagers can rein in the High Holders in the years to come?”

“Don’t you?”

“You weren’t exactly as effective as you could have been in Montagne.”

“I was as effective as necessary in order to restore order. And … I was acting alone. The outcry would have died away.”

“Especially if something … an accident or sickness … had happened to another High Holder?”

Quaeryt nodded.

“You are capable of that. I know.”

“I’d prefer not to act that way, but it’s far better to remove one man than fight uprisings and rebellions.”

“How long will it take?”

“As necessary, we can begin to do what needs to be done once I return from Khel.”

“Not until then?” A faint, almost humorous smile flitted across Bhayar’s lips.

“You need to give the High Holders time to misbehave. That way, any accidents or illnesses will be seen as a result of their actions and not mere greed for their lands on your part.”

“But not too much time.”

“No.” Quaeryt shook his head. “But you will need to allow us the resources to build the scholarium. The imagers cannot be seen as merely your tool. We need to prove useful to many, so that the people, especially in Khel and Bovaria, will support them.”

“And not in Telaryn?”

“That will come, but it is not as necessary.”

“I suppose not.” Bhayar stretched, then stood. “I’d best ready myself for a long dinner.”

“Better you than me.”

“Your turn will come, right after you return.”

If I return successfully. “We’ll face that then.”

“Along with more than you ever dreamed possible, Quaeryt.”

“You’re so encouraging.”

“What else can I be when you’re married to Vaelora?”

“Remind me to talk to Aelina when she arrives.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t have to. Vaelora will tell you everything.” Bhayar gestured toward the study door. “Go.”

Quaeryt grinned, then bowed, turned, and made his way out.