Antiagon Fire

51

Two quints past seventh glass on Samedi morning, Quaeryt, Zhelan, the imager undercaptains-excepting Desyrk and Smaelthyl, who still remained with Meinyt in Laaryn-and a company from Nineteenth Regiment, led by Captain Maasn, reined up on the rutted and now disused section of road that had once led to Kephria, some two hundred yards north of the massive stone wall that ran from the rugged hills more than a mille east of the river, right to the edge of the water. Where the land wall and the shore wall met was a low square tower. The river’s waters lapped against the section of that sheer gray stone wall that ran a good half mille downstream from the tower before turning westward, where it extended some fifty yards out into the water, ending with a larger square stone tower that rose another five yards above the wall. For all its considerable length the top of the stone wall was uniformly ten yards above the road or the water. There were no gates or breaks in the stone, none that Quaeryt could see, at least.

As before, Quaeryt saw no sentries. He glanced from the wall to the chest-high brush between the road and the water at the odd assortment of buildings and roofs to the south on the far side of the river. Ephra still looked like a poor location for a port, and not a single ship was visible in its harbor. Even the piers used by the ferries returning to Geusyn were empty, although, Quaeryt supposed, that was to be expected in late morning.

Quaeryt turned to Zhelan. “Your thoughts, Major?”

“If you want quick passage, it’d be best if the imagers could topple the wall into the river. Be the Namer’s time getting over all the fallen stone otherwise. Unless you have the imagers smooth the way through the middle of the city.”

“There aren’t any dwellings or buildings on the higher parts of those hills to the east,” mused Quaeryt. “Usually folks with golds like the hills. Then again, this close to the border, I’d guess that they live farther south.” On the other hand, he’d also never heard of a wall stopping trade, and that suggested the heavy forest to the east concealed a myriad of narrow roads or trails that wound back through the hills. Given the modest level of prosperity in Geusyn, that trade had to run both ways, suggesting that the wall had never been built to stop trade, but to make the cost of acquiring Kephria higher than any Bovarian rex wanted to incur.

“The scouts never see anyone on the walls. Can’t believe that Kephria’s that busy a port.”

“It’s likely not. The autarchs built it to keep the city from falling into Bovarian hands.”

“When was it built, sir?”

“No one seems to know exactly, but one of the autarchs built it sometime early in the rule of Rex Haarl, Kharst’s father. That may have been why Haarl built the Great Canal. Or maybe Aliaro’s sire put up the wall to block access to Kephria after the Great Canal was built.”

“So they traded for centuries through Kephria … and then the Autarch built the wall? Why didn’t Kharst or his father just stop it or take it down?”

“That’s a good question. We likely won’t ever know why, but I’d guess by the time they learned about the wall, it was largely built, and they felt it wasn’t worth fighting a war over, especially in a place so hard to get an army to and so far from Variana.”

“Could it be that Kharst’s sire didn’t want his troopers that far from Variana?” asked Voltyr, who had eased his mount forward on Quaeryt’s left.

“That’s very possible.” Quaeryt looked past Zhelan to Maasn, reined up on Zhelan’s left. “Captain … if you’d send a squad east along the wall-as far as where it meets that rocky outcropping. We need to know if there are any breaks or gates in the wall-or anything unusual.”

“Yes, sir.” Maasn nodded and turned his mount.

While the captain moved off to give instructions to the patrol squad, Quaeryt turned to Voltyr. “What do you think about how to remove or breach the wall?”

“It might take less effort to rearrange the stone, rather than remove it,” suggested Voltyr.

Rearrange? Then Quaeryt nodded. “That would also make our progress southward even faster.”

“You ought to have Threkhyl begin the imaging,” Voltyr went on. “He’s the strongest, besides you, at that. You want the Antiagons to be shocked and stunned.”

Quaeryt nodded, then watched as a squad moved away from Maasn’s company, heading eastward along a path that might have once been a lane, or a game trail. Then he turned his mare so that he faced the undercaptains and motioned for the others to ride forward and join him.

“I’d like all of you to study that wall. We may have to remove a large section of it and use the stone to pave a causeway through the city beyond.”

“May?” asked Threkhyl.

“If it appears that the Bovarian High Holders won’t pledge allegiance and intend to remain in Antiago, the only way to secure the border will likely require our taking Kephria. The submarshal is considering that possibility. He wanted to know if we could open the wall. That’s why we’re here.”

“We can do it, sir,” replied Threkhyl. “We’ve done more than that.”

“I know you can, but I’d like you to do it with the least effort possible. When we first encountered earthworks, you asked if you could just move the earth, and it turned out that was less effort. I thought that you might be able to do the same with the stone.”

“You mean just pile it aside somewhere?”

“Actually,” said Quaeryt with a smile, “you all have noticed how poor the roads happen to be here. I was thinking that we might just turn the wall into a stone-paved way right through Kephria…”

A wide grin crossed the face of Khalis, the youngest undercaptain.

Threkhyl frowned, then nodded. “Yes, sir. It’d be easier that way.”

“If we remove part of the wall, sir,” asked Voltyr, “how wide an opening do you want?”

“We’ll start with a hundred yards, and then see what’s on the other side.”

“What about the Antiagons?” asked Horan.

“We won’t be leading the assault, but we’ll try to avoid hurting people who aren’t troopers.”

Quaeryt answered questions for a time after that, then filled the other imagers in on what he knew about Antiago and the Autarch, including the way Aliaro had dealt with Bhayar’s sister Chaerila. After almost a glass, when Maasn’s squad rode back and reined up, Quaeryt urged the mare forward to talk to the squad leader.

“What did you find out?” asked Quaeryt.

“There’s nothing different there, sir. Just trees and the wall. We didn’t see any gaps, no tunnels, and no gates. There aren’t any embrasures in the wall, either.”

“Did you see any sentries?”

“No, sir. There are small towers every fifth of a mille. Sentries might be inside, I’d guess. No way to measure exactly, but there are six from here to the end of the wall. That doesn’t count the one there at the corner.”

“How thick is the undergrowth?”

“It runs right up to the stone. Trees have been cut back now and again, looks like, for maybe twenty yards back from the wall.”

So they won’t overtop the wall itself.

Quaeryt asked questions for almost another quint, but learned little more. Finally, he ordered the group back to Geusyn. He reined up in the courtyard of the River Inn at two quints past the first glass of the afternoon, but had to wait until almost second glass before Skarpa returned and they met in the large plaques room.

“What did you find out?” asked Skarpa.

“It’s a big wall.” Quaeryt smiled sardonically. “It’s a waste of good stone. Kharst and Aliaro could have paved a road for milles with all that stone and split the tariffs from Kephria. They both would have come out ahead, and Kharst and his sire wouldn’t have had to pour golds into that swamp they call Ephra.”

Skarpa frowned. “You’re thinking of paving…? Oh … Do you think that will work?”

“Voltyr suggested it, in a way. It can’t hurt to try.”

“I’ve set a meeting with the regimental commanders for third glass. They should know,” said Skarpa. “They can keep it to themselves. Especially if you point out to them that if word leaks out, hundreds more troopers and officers might die.”

“I worry about that … but you’re right.” Quaeryt paused. “Have you received any dispatches from Bhayar or Deucalon?”

“One. Just before you returned from Khel. From Deucalon, requesting that I keep him informed of our progress. I sent back a brief missive that said we were progressing as expected and that you had not returned from Khel.”

“You’re under Bhayar’s direct command…”

“There’s no point in upsetting a marshal when you don’t have to,” said Skarpa mildly.

“You’re right.” And Deucalon can get upset about such things easily.

“There’s one other matter,” said Skarpa. “We’ve never discussed battlefield succession…”

Quaeryt looked at Skarpa. “You’re in command. Why are you bringing that up now? Are you worried about something we haven’t talked about?”

“Anytime you fight, you can run into trouble. Everyone knows that, if something happens to me-it could, you know-then you’re in command.”

“And if something happens to us both, Kharllon is next in line.”

“And after him?”

“If it comes to that … it’s not our problem,” Quaeryt rejoined dryly.

“That may be. But, just because we’ve never talked about it, the seniority is, in order, Paedn, Dulaek, Meurn, Fhaen, and Fhaasn.” Skarpa nodded firmly. “We’ll just tell them we’re going to attack Kephria and why. Then we’ll explain the plan…”

Quaeryt listened, occasionally making suggestions.

After he and Skarpa finished going over the agenda for the meeting with the regimental commanders at third glass, Quaeryt retreated to his and Vaelora’s room, where she was seated at the desk, writing.

“You’re back?” she asked, looking up.

“For a few quints, until we meet with the regimental commanders. Who are you writing?”

“Aelina. It’s been a while. Don’t worry. I’m not saying anything except where we are, and that can’t be any secret.” She paused. “You look worried.”

“Skarpa insisted on going over the seniority … as if something might happen to him tomorrow or in the weeks ahead. He’s never done that before.”

“He’s never commanded this big an army before, has he?”

“No … but it’s not like him. I can’t help but worry if it’s another way of saying he doesn’t like the idea of invading Antiago.”

“Do you?”

“No … but it’s the least of the evils.” Quaeryt fingered his chin, then shook his head. “Everyone will think that it was foolish and unnecessary, and that all those who will have died didn’t have to. But the fights and the wars will go on and on until Lydar is unified.”

“If it stays unified,” Vaelora pointed out.

“It has to. That’s one thing the imagers can do for your brother and his son.”

“Only if you survive, dearest. No one else can hold them together … and face down Bhayar.”

“I think you’ve made that point before.”

“I’ll keep making it, too.”

“What are you telling Aelina?”

“That I’m healthy, and that Geusyn and southern Bovaria have little to recommend them.”

“We agree on that.” Quaeryt sat on the end of the bed and glanced toward the unshuttered windows, one of which was open, with a cold breeze flowing from it. “Aren’t you cold?”

“No. I get too warm if the window’s not open. Aelina told me that might happen. She said I was fortunate not to have to carry a child through the summer. She had to, and she was miserable.”

“Especially in Solis.”

“It wouldn’t be any better here.”

Quaeryt could believe that. In thinking about the letter his wife was writing, he also realized that neither he nor Vaelora had received any letters or dispatches … and Skarpa only one of a noncommittal nature. He couldn’t help but worry about what might be happening in Variana. But there’s nothing you can do about it.

All too soon, he gave Vaelora a brief kiss and headed back down to the large plaques chamber, where he waited outside with Skarpa, while all the regimental commanders entered and took their places around the large circular table.

Then he entered, followed by Skarpa, who remained standing while all the others seated themselves.

“Tomorrow, we’re going to take Kephria,” Skarpa began.

Quaeryt surveyed the faces of the officers seated around the table. Kharllon revealed nothing, nor did Meurn. Paedn nodded, as did Fhaen. Dulaek frowned, and Fhaasn’s brow wrinkled in puzzlement. Alazyn glanced at Quaeryt more than once. He just nodded in return.

“It’s simple,” Skarpa went on. “We were sent to secure the border with Antiago and to obtain the allegiance of the Bovarian High Holders in the south. All of them have fled into Antiago. When Commander Quaeryt took part of his force to Kherseilles, his ships were attacked by Antiagon warships. While he and his imagers sank three of the five attackers, that was an act of war against Telaryn. So is harboring traitorous High Holders. Previously, the Autarch has attacked Ephra as well. His cannon take aim at any ship nearing Kephria that is not Antiagon. The only way to carry out our orders and secure the border is to take Kephria.”

“We don’t have cannon or siege engines, sir,” said Subcommander Meurn. “Or will we be marching east and swinging behind the wall?”

“Trying to ride or march through those woods would be hard on your men, Subcommander,” replied Skarpa. “We’ll be leaving the wall to Commander Quaeryt and his men. Once they’ve opened it, because there may be a fair amount of debris, we’ll need a foot regiment to move in first. That will be Fifteenth Regiment…”

Meurn did frown at that, if momentarily, as Skarpa continued putting forth the plan of attack.

Quaeryt just listened and watched the other officers, knowing he’d need to go over details with Alazyn and Zhelan after the meeting, and then with Major Baarl, the senior major from Eleventh Regiment, since the two battalions he was temporarily commanding would be the ones guarding Geusyn-and Vaelora.