Antiagon Fire

64

Once below the gorge, the road that led to Liantiago through the remaining lower and gentler hills turned out to be wider. It was also paved in hard white stone and wide enough for three wagons abreast, with room to spare. Although the lines of the stone were sharp and clean, from the way the turf from which the hot-weather grasses sprouted had been cut back and from the occasional large mansions and small palaces set back from the road, each with elaborate gates-all closed-and paved lanes cut into the gentle hillside, it was clear that the road dated back some considerable time.

If not so far back as the roads of the Naedarans, thought Quaeryt. Had some of the Naedarans fled to Antiago? Or had Aliaro’s imagers come from elsewhere?

While it was hard to determine, given their distance from the main road, most of the imposing structures appeared shuttered, and not a single wisp of smoke rose from any chimney, as if most inhabitants had either fled or were hiding within. Nor had Quaeryt seen any individual even on more distant lanes or fields. In fact, he had seen no livestock, not even a dog.

Just ahead of first company, the road curved gently to the north around the base of another hill, one planted at the top with oil nut trees. Some hundred yards to the south of the road was a depression not quite deep enough to be a gorge or a canyon but too narrow to be a valley and too deep to be a mere swale, at the bottom of which was a small stream. Quaeryt judged that the miniature canyon/valley was perhaps two hundred yards across and fifteen to twenty yards deep. Just deep enough and steep enough to make it a barrier to any sort of maneuver.

Even before the outriders reached the point where the road began to curve to the west-northwest, Skarpa rode up and ordered a halt, then eased his mount over beside Quaeryt. “About a mille ahead, at the top of a slight rise, between that hill and that valley to the south, there’s a wall right across the road. The wall looks to be a half mille long. The stonework on each side of the road towers looks old. The wall between the towers looks new. The scouts report that there might be at least several regiments there.”

“So they imaged a short section of wall between the towers?”

“Or they built it quickly,” replied Skarpa sardonically.

“Is there any way to go around the wall?” asked Quaeryt.

“Either down through the valley or uphill through the oil nut trees. I imagine that they’re ready to fire the trees themselves if we tried that.”

“So why don’t we fire the trees … and wait?”

“I’d thought about that, but … unless you or your imagers could do that, we’d likely lose a lot of men even trying to get close.”

“I assume that there’s no other easy or short way to get around the wall.”

“I’ve had the scouts searching, but there’s another gorge to the north…”

“So we’d have to retrace our way up the gorge that holds the main road and then find another road down to Liantiago?”

“If there is one,” said Skarpa. “We didn’t see any signs of main roads. There are likely farm roads or lanes, but they’ll be narrow.”

“And we might face another force if we attempted riding back up into the gorge. Or some other kind of trap.”

“Even if we didn’t, trying to reach Liantiago on back roads gives them more of an advantage.”

“But not more than the advantage of fortifications,” Quaeryt pointed out.

“I was hoping you and the imagers…”

“I’d have to look to see what might be possible.”

“I thought you might. That’s why I called a halt,” said Skarpa. “You’re not to do it by yourself with just a squad.”

“I’ll take Khalis and Horan.”

“Not Voltyr?”

“You’ll need him if anything happens while we’re gone.” Quaeryt turned to Zhelan. “Major … I’ll need a squad to accompany me and two undercaptains on a scouting mission.”

“Yes, sir. Third squad is ready.”

“Thank you.” Quaeryt looked back. “Undercaptains Khalis and Horan, forward!”

As Horan reined up beside Quaeryt, his face held a slightly puzzled expression, while Khalis offered a tentative smile.

Quaeryt ignored both expressions. “Once we near the curve in the road, Khalis, I want a concealment shield over the squad. If at any time you think you can’t maintain it, let me know before that happens. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Horan … I want you to study the hill to the north and the valley to the south. I need to know whether you can remove a section of the hill wide enough for a battalion to ride along such a cut around the end of the wall. I’d also like your thoughts on a bridge across the valley short of the wall and another one back across farther west and behind the wall.”

The older undercaptain nodded, thoughtfully, as if his unspoken question had been answered.

Quaeryt turned his mount slightly, in order to address all the imager undercaptains. “The Antiagons have imagers. We don’t know how many, and we don’t know how strong they are. We also don’t know how they will deploy those imagers after what we did in the gorge. They’ll doubtless have Antiagon Fire and catapults. They will have cannon as well.” He ignored the sarcastic expression on Threkhyl’s face. “Until we do know what else they may use, when we first move into range of muskets, arrows, or imaging, you need to hold your shields. It’s more than likely that the stone wall ahead is only the first barrier we’ll encounter as we near the outskirts of the city.”

By the time Quaeryt had finished speaking, third squad had ridden forward, ready to escort Quaeryt and the two undercaptains. Quaeryt turned the mare and eased her over to the squad leader. “I’d like two outriders, but only five yards in front of us.” That was to make sure that they stayed within the limits of Khalis’s concealment shield. “We’ll take this at a fast walk. The two undercaptains will flank me, and you’ll be immediately behind.”

“Yes, sir.”

In moments, the two rankers were leading the group out along the road.

After the first hundred or so yards, Quaeryt ordered, “Concealment shield now, Khalis. Third squad, quiet riding.”

“Yes, sir.”

Almost half a mille later, they came to the end of the curve in the road, and to a point almost even with the highest part of the low hill to the right. Some four hundred yards ahead was the stone wall that extended from the rear of the hill across the road and to the valley to the southwest. Even at that distance, Quaeryt could see that behind the stonework waited troopers in maroon uniforms. Some ten yards behind the stonework were catapults, spaced ten yards or so apart, with more than twenty of them in all.

Quaeryt didn’t see any cannon, but he had no doubt that there must have been some, possibly in the trees on the upper slopes of the hill, trained down onto the open fields on each side of the road and ready to rake the approaches to the wall. Another reason to fire the trees before we start any sort of attack.

He held up his hand. “Squad, halt.” Then he added, “Undercaptains, take a good look at all that.”

The towers immediately flanking the road were square, some ten yards high, and clearly dated back many years, possibly more than a century, as did the two sections of the wall on each side of the towers, a wall that looked to be some five yards thick. The wall between the towers had no gates, and not even embrasures below the crenellations that topped the stonework, and the white stone was definitely much newer.

“Could you flatten that stonework for a width of thirty or forty yards?” Quaeryt asked Horan.

“Be easier to move some of the hill to make a ramp up and around the end of the wall, sir,” Horan finally said.

“How wide do you think you could make it?”

“Wide enough for four horses, I’d think. If they stayed close together.”

“What about bridges over the valley?”

“No, sir. I saw what all of you did at Ferravyl, and it’d take a lot more than that.”

Quaeryt had thought the same, but had his reasons for asking. “And a ramp over the south end of the wall?”

“I could do the north end, and Threkhyl could do the south. He might be able to flatten the wall. He’s still stronger than I am for that.”

But not for shields, I’d wager. “Khalis … could you remove that center section of wall?”

“Yes, sir. That’s less than twenty yards across. Well … less than thirty, anyway.”

Quaeryt couldn’t help but smile slightly, if ironically. A year and a half earlier, he couldn’t have removed one of the wall stones. Now, that was nothing to all but one of the imagers he commanded. He nodded. “Time to head back, outriders, undercaptains, squad leader. Please keep holding that concealment, Khalis.” He turned his mare.

“If I might ask,” ventured Khalis, after they had covered about a hundred yards of the return to Southern Army, “what you have in mind, sir…”

“Anything where we don’t have to attack a walled fortification directly. Do you have any suggestions, Undercaptain?” asked Quaeryt gently.

“If we just removed the front of the entire wall at the base, it wouldn’t take as much effort…”

Quaeryt thought for a moment, then shook his head. “That would just leave a jumble of stone that would be a barrier to us, especially to a mounted regiment…” He let the words drift off for a moment, as something struck him. “Keep that thought in mind, though. It might be a very good tactic if we have to deal with manned high walls in Liantiago.”

“What about toppling their catapults just before we get in range?” asked Horan. “We wouldn’t need shields as much.”

“It’s a good idea, especially if it spreads Antiagon Fire across their ranks, but we’d still need shields against arrows and musket fire.”

As they rode back around the curve, Quaeryt began to image burning hunks of wax into the leaves of the oil nut trees on the hill to the north of the road, concentrating on the southern side, overlooking the approach to the wall and towers. Wax was easier than iron fragments, and he also had no idea exactly where any Antiagons might be … if there were any at all, but he couldn’t believe that there were none on such a strategic position. He might be destroying the grove and the crop of some Shahib, but he didn’t wish to risk Southern Army having to deal with either a concealed Antiagon force or a cannon position that could rake any advance. He kept looking up at the tree-covered crest of the hill as he rode back toward where Skarpa and Southern Army waited-out of sight of the wall and its towers, but certainly obvious to any scouts or troopers on the hill.

Initially, even a half a quint after Quaeryt’s fire-imaging, there were only puffs of smoke here and there, and in many places, the smoke just vanished. In more than a handful, though, perhaps in as many as a double handful, the thin trails of smoke thickened, followed by tongues of flame that expanded rapidly. By the time that the scouting squad was back in sight of Southern Army, patches of the trees were in full flame. Quaeryt didn’t see anyone fleeing the fire. But you wouldn’t. They’d run back toward the wall on the side of the hill away from us.

Before long, the entire hilltop was aflame. Then, abruptly, a geyser of dirt and vegetation erupted from the upper southern side of the hill, accompanied by one large explosion and followed by several others.

For a moment Quaeryt just watched, although he kept riding.

“Why didn’t they fire on us earlier?” asked Khalis. “We were certainly in range even before we went to scout.”

“They weren’t positioned to fire on where Southern Army halted, and I’d guess that because cannon are heavy and hard to move, they worried that they wouldn’t have time to reposition them to cover the approach to the wall. That’s where they could do the most damage because that’s where our forces would be the closest together.”

Skarpa was waiting at the front of first company and gestured for Quaeryt to join him. Quaeryt rode over and reined up.

“I appreciate your taking out that cannon emplacement. It did warn them about some of our capabilities, but they probably know those already.” Skarpa’s smile was rueful. “I don’t see much point in waiting until tomorrow. They might just decide to bring up cannon or something else unpleasant.” Skarpa coughed and cleared his throat. “And most of Southern Army hasn’t fought today. Can your imagers handle it?”

“Here’s what I’d suggest,” said Quaeryt. He began to explain.

When he finished, Skarpa nodded slowly, then said, “That’s fine if they don’t immediately turn cannon and catapults on the attack points.”

“We can’t do much against cannon, except use concealment shields until we begin the attack, but some of the imagers can cripple the catapult towers.” Quaeryt paused. “I don’t know that we can take them all out. They must have twenty of them along the wall.”

“I’d think they’d have more. It is what they do best.”

“They likely do in Liantiago, but here … there’s no protected storage for the fire grenades, and you wouldn’t want them too close together.” Not if you value your troopers.

“That might be why they had the cannon on the hill. Some of the cannon, anyway,” said Skarpa. “If I were their commander, I’d have more set back and ranged to fire over the walls into the approaches to the wall.”

“Then they probably do, and we’ll need to use concealment shields as long as we can and try to advance without raising enough dust that it lingers behind the regiments.”

Skarpa gestured to a junior squad leader. “Commander Quaeryt and I would like to see all the regimental commanders immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

Skarpa turned back to Quaeryt. “You can’t do anything like you did at Ferravyl or Variana?”

Quaeryt shook his head. “It’s not that warm. There’s no rain and no water that near.”

“I don’t pretend to understand why that’s important, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Massive imaging takes heat.”

“That’s why all the ice and snow?”

Quaeryt nodded. “Without that…” He shook his head.

“The more I learn, the more I wouldn’t want to be in your boots.”

For those reasons, and for others Quaeryt wasn’t about to mention, he was getting more and more uncomfortable in his own boots.

Once the seven commanders arrived, Skarpa laid out the plan of attack, looking around the senior officers when he had finished.

“You realize that coordinating the attack will be difficult using hand signals instead of horn signals,” offered Kharllon.

“I do understand that, Commander,” replied Skarpa, “but it is not necessary for the attacks to be perfectly coordinated. A surprise attack on three points that is not exactly timed is far better than a perfectly timed assault that is anticipated and expected. Would you not agree?”

“Do we have any idea what defenses they have besides the wall?” asked Kharllon, his question making clear the fact that he didn’t intend to reply to Skarpa’s gentle question.

“Some twenty catapults armed with Antiagon Fire grenades, most likely one or two cannon emplacements, and an undetermined number of troopers,” replied Skarpa. “Probably at least three regiments. They have far less experience than your men.”

“How do we know that?” asked Meurn, after looking to Kharllon.

“They haven’t fought anyone in generations,” replied Quaeryt. “Even if they’re well trained, it’s not the same.”

Subcommander Dulaek cleared his throat. “Are we to give quarter?”

“To those who throw down their weapons and surrender immediately,” replied Skarpa. “We’re not interested in slaughtering if it’s not necessary.”

While Quaeryt nodded, he thought, One way or another, that’s not likely to be an issue, not with as much Antiagon Fire behind those walls as needed by that number of catapults.

After several more questions, Skarpa released the commanders to their regiments. Quaeryt remounted the mare and rode back to the imager undercaptains, accompanied by Alazyn, who had said nothing during the senior officers’ briefing.

“You didn’t look all that pleased with Commander Kharllon’s questions,” observed Quaeryt, his eyes on the subcommander.

“He was asking questions so he could cover his back if things go wrong.”

“Another reason why we need to make certain they don’t.” It’s also why Skarpa has him leading one of the attacks.

Once he returned to first company, Quaeryt quickly briefed Zhelan, Ghaelyn, and the undercaptains. “The attack will begin with three separate assaults, each under concealment. Lhandor and Threkhyl, you’ll be with the submarshal and Commander Fhaen. Voltyr and Horan with Fourteenth Regiment and Commander Kharllon, and Khalis, Baelthm, and I will support Subcommander Alazyn and Nineteenth Regiment…” He went on with the overall plan before discussing certain details.

“Voltyr … you need to stay close enough to Commander Kharllon to make certain that nothing slows the attack or goes wrong with it.”

“And remove any unforeseen impediments?”

“If necessary … but only if necessary. You should be able to handle the concealment, and Horan should be able to create a causeway wide enough for Fourteenth Regiment to swing north of the defenders and attack their rear. If you see a cannon emplacement … do what you can. You’re likely to be the one close enough and with the best view for that.”

“Yes, sir.” Voltyr nodded slowly.

“Good. You and Horan head out and join Fourteenth Regiment.” Quaeryt then went over his instructions with Threkhyl and Lhandor before sending them to join Skarpa. Then he turned to Khalis. “You’re going to have to remove as large a section of that wall as you can … but leave yourself enough strength to deal with the catapults.”

“Yes, sir.”

Almost two quints passed before Fourteenth, Nineteenth, and Third Regiments were in position to ride forward. Because maintaining concealment during the entire set of maneuvers would have been far too hard on all the imagers, once Fourteenth Regiment was in place, Paedn’s Fourth Regiment moved up behind it, as did Meurn’s Fifteenth behind Quaeryt and Nineteenth Regiment, and Dulaek’s Sixth Regiment behind Skarpa and Fhaen’s Third Regiment. Fhaasn’s Twenty-sixth Foot was behind Fifteenth, but to the west of the road. The three lead regiments were a good half mille from the wall, with their backups separated from them by several hundred yards. Once the lead regiments had reached a point several hundred yards from the wall, the backup forces were to begin their advance, again in an angled fashion.

On Skarpa’s signal, Khalis raised a concealment shield over the first company and Nineteenth Regiment, as did Voltyr over Fourteenth Regiment, and finally Lhandor over Third Regiment. Quaeryt thought it most likely that most, if not all, Antiagon observers would be puzzled by the concealment because they would still observe regiments in the same general position as before, if fewer in number, and might even think that the larger initial numbers were an imaging illusion. Even if the Antiagon commander did not happen to be deceived, the concealment would make it difficult to determine where the attackers were and what their movements were.

“Forward,” ordered Quaeryt quietly, raising and then lowering his arm.

First company began to walk their mounts toward the central section of the wall, but at an angle, since Quaeryt and Skarpa had positioned all the regiments, not directly in front of their objective, but so that they would not move directly forward toward the wall. That way, if there were cannon or, as they neared the wall, other missiles, the defenders could not attempt merely to adjust the distance in trying to calculate where the Southern Army regiments might be. Further, since there were wide spaces between the regiments, any blanket barrage would waste a great deal of ammunition.

Of course, if they drop something directly blindly into a regiment, the casualties will be higher, or the strain on the imager will be greater … if not both. Again, Quaeryt was basing his tactics on the fact that no one in Lydar had ever used imagers the way he was-at least not since the time of the Naedarans, if then-and they hadn’t had muskets, cannon, or Antiagon Fire.

First company and Nineteenth Regiment had advanced less than two hundred yards before what sounded almost like a sighing whistle passed overhead. Although Quaeryt couldn’t see it, the crumpt well behind Nineteenth Regiment told Quaeryt all that he needed to know. “Forward! Fast trot!” As he gave the order, he extended shields across the front of first company, trusting that he could hold them at least until they reached a point close to the walls … or where Khalis would remove the stone.

More explosions echoed across the fields before the walls, but behind Nineteenth Regiment, demonstrating that the Antiagons not only had cannon emplacements, but that there were more than a few handfuls of cannon in those positions. From what Quaeryt could tell, most of the impact explosions occurred well to the south behind the advancing forces, but he hoped that the reserve battalions followed Skarpa’s orders and had moved quickly-at an angle-once they came under fire. Not that you can do anything about that now.

As he rode toward the highway just in front of the gate, Quaeryt took a quick look at the two towers, but only saw a handful of troopers behind the crenellations of each tower. None of the nearer catapults appeared to be in motion, either. Could it be that the Antiagons were still concentrating on the secondary regiments? He pushed that thought away.

At that moment, from nowhere came a series of blows on Quaeryt’s shields, strong enough to rock him in the saddle. Dropping away from his shields were iron darts-all aimed at the front ranks of first company-and that meant an imager on the walls who had deduced where first company happened to be.

“Image now!” Quaeryt ordered Khalis, before glancing back over his shoulder to make certain that Baelthm was close behind him.

Khalis said nothing, but in moments the section of wall between the towers flanking the stone-paved high had vanished-and reappeared as a flat paved square extending a good forty yards back. That newly created square was empty, except for wisps of mist curling up from the stone-a good indication that whatever forces had manned the wall or sheltered behind it were now entombed under it.

“Forward! Through the wall!” ordered Quaeryt.

First company and the first battalions of Nineteenth Regiment were through the gap in the white stonework, the hooves of their mounts clattering on the cold white paving that Khalis had laid down, before any of the defenders flanking the towers even began to react. At that point, Quaeryt dropped the concealment and strengthened his shields.

The appearance of riders amid the defenders engendered shouts, but whether those were of defiance or surprise Quaeryt certainly couldn’t tell.

“First company! On me!” He turned the mare toward the defenders on the left, shifting his half-staff to his right hand. “Baelthm! Do what you can to the nearest catapult.” After narrowing his personal shields to a wedge extending little more than the width of two horses, he urged the mare to move faster.

Even before the troopers turned toward the Southern Army troopers, from nowhere came another series of blows on Quaeryt’s shields, again powerful enough to push him back in the saddle. Quaeryt had no idea from where they had come, but the sooner his troopers were close to the Antiagons, the harder it would be for Antiagon imagers to attack the Telaryn troopers.

Behind him, he heard Alazyn’s command. “First battalion on the commander. Second to the right on me!”

Whatever imaging Baelthm did was sufficient, because the launching arm of the nearer catapult sagged, and a fire grenade exploded as the arm fell, with crimson-yellow-green flames oozing down the framework.

Quaeryt imaged a few handfuls of red-hot iron fragments into what looked to be the magazine for the catapult. In instants, flames roared up the catapult, and Antiagon troopers raced away from the flaming structure.

Another blast of something washed over his shields, and this time, Quaeryt attempted to image it back from wherever it had come.

Another wave of flame flared to Quaeryt’s left, from narrow embrasures in the middle level of the western road tower … followed by a quick gust of cool air.

Quaeryt braced for another imaging attack … but there was none.

Ahead, the flames from the burning catapult or from the midsection of the tower didn’t deter many of the defenders, who resolutely turned to face Quaeryt and first company. That resolution helped them little when his shields, loosely anchored to the mare and the other mounts of first company, thrust the defenders facing Quaeryt to one side or the other, unbalanced, and easy targets for Zhelan and his men.

A group of archers stood on the parapet of the wall ahead, beginning to fire shafts into the riders well behind Quaeryt.

Quaeryt imaged iron darts across the archers, and most of them went down. A flash of light momentarily blinded him so that all he could do was hold his seat as the mare charged forward through more defenders.

When his vision cleared, he found that the troopers of first company, and Khalis and Baelthm, had caught up with him, and that most of the nearby defenders were falling back, if not outright fleeing.

Farther ahead on the parapets stood another group of archers, whose shafts arched toward him and first company, but before most of them could release another shaft, iron darts were penetrating their necks.

Quaeryt glanced to Khalis, whose face was momentarily locked in concentration before relaxing slightly. “Good job!”

“We don’t need casualties behind us, sir.”

No, we don’t. Quaeryt nodded, then scanned the area. Another catapult was turning toward the attackers. He imaged away the rear support and directed the fire grenade downward into the areas below. He must have missed the wood or the magazine, because nothing happened, except for the fact that the crew immediately fled. He looked farther to the west-southwest, concentrating on the next catapult, but not before the weapon had released another fire grenade. All Quaeryt could do was to image it onto the Antiagon troopers on the wall farther from him and first company … and ignore the flames and agony as he kept riding through the thinning ranks of the defenders and strewing them sideways and into the sabres of the lead ranks of first company.

Before that long, there were no defenders-and no working catapults-remaining close to first company, except the wounded and the dead, but he could see a mass of them farther to the southwest, still resisting Skarpa’s attack through a gap in the wall-a gap that only looked to be some twenty yards wide.

“First company! First battalion! Forward!” Once more Quaeryt urged the mare forward, hoping that a rear attack on the Antiagons might break the will of the defenders ferociously blocking the Telaryn advance through the gap in the white stone wall.

As he rode forward, he imaged away the supports on the nearest catapult ahead, and then the one after that, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but think that either Threkhyl or Lhandor should have done some imaging ahead of Third Regiment, anything to put a gap in the defenders. But maybe they couldn’t.

Only the last few ranks of the defenders attempting to stop Third Regiment’s advance saw or heard the approach of first company and Nineteenth Regiment’s first battalion, even though a squad leader on the wall was shouting and gesturing-until Quaeryt cut him down with an imaged iron dart.

More flashes of light across Quaeryt’s eyes persuaded him to reduce his shields and just concentrate on the area around him-especially in case there was another Antiagon imager around.

After perhaps half a quint, the remaining defenders caught between Third and Nineteenth Regiments began to break. Then … in what seemed moments, most were gone, and Quaeryt gestured and ordered, “Company! Halt!” That was to avoid riding into the advancing riders from Third Regiment.

“Sir! There!” shouted Khalis, pointing to the wall and an unroofed space that had chest-high walls on each side but was unwalled on the side away from the main wall.

Quaeryt jerked his head around. Two figures stood there, one apparently an officer and the other an older gray-haired man in a white jacket and maroon cuffs. To one side, lying on the parapet stones, was another white-jacketed figure.

The sharp-faced officer whirled toward the older man in the white jacket and the maroon cuffs, his blade clearly aimed at the man’s neck. Quaeryt imaged the blade from the hilt. The officer looked stunned, but only for a moment as an iron dart from Khalis caught him on the back of the neck.

The older man glanced from the falling officer in the general direction of Quaeryt, his eyes widening, although he appeared not to be looking at the commander or Khalis. Then a gold disk appeared in his hand … and he swayed. He mouthed several words-words that, to Quaeryt, might have been “never to the ancients”-before he pitched forward onto the stone, and then toppled off the parapet to the stone pavement that extended several yards back from the base of the wall.

Before Quaeryt could say anything or ride forward, two massive explosions, one right after the other, filled the air, clearly coming from somewhere north of the eastern end of the wall. Quaeryt turned in the saddle, but all he could see were two pillars of thick smoke. Powder bags or cannonballs … or both? He stood in the stirrups, looking back to the northeast, trying to see what had happened there, but from what he could determine, the fighting around the wall had ended there as well and since no troopers in maroon were headed toward them, and the uniforms he could see were greenish, that meant that Kharllon had been successful … and that the fighting had ended possibly even sooner than it had for Nineteenth and Third Regiments. That suggested that either Volytr or Horan had torched the cannon emplacements, and that Kharllon would find a way to inflate his success, sooner or later. In any case, Fourteenth and Fourth Regiments looked to be in control, and he’d find out soon enough what had happened.

“What was that?” asked Khalis, easing his mount up beside Quaeryt.

“Let’s hope it was Voltyr setting off Antiagon powder.”

“No … the two fighting on the wall here, and the one who jumped off.”

“He didn’t jump. He was an imager. He imaged the gold to kill himself.”

“You can do that?”

“You can.” Quaeryt didn’t remind Khalis that he’d pointed that out months before. “That’s why imaging golds is dangerous.”

“But why did he do it?”

Quaeryt shook his head. “The officer didn’t want him taken captive, and he apparently didn’t want it, either.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Quaeryt was all too afraid that it did. He looked around for Zhelan, finally spotting the major some twenty yards away, giving orders to a squad leader. While he waited for Zhelan to finish, he decided to repeat a few things to Khalis. “Gold is one of the heaviest metals and one of the hardest to image…”

When Zhelan had finished, Quaeryt cut short his impromptu homily and rode over and reined up short of the major.

“Sir?”

“If there are any captives wearing white uniforms with maroon cuffs, I want to see them immediately. But have the men be careful with them. Some might be imagers.”

The major’s eyebrows lifted.

“That’s a guess on my part, but one of the imagers was wearing that kind of uniform.” Quaeryt gestured back toward the body on the stone pavement. “He killed himself, rather than let himself be captured.”

Zhelan shook his head.

“I won’t keep you. I imagine the submarshal will be here before long.” Quaeryt nodded and eased the mare back to where Khalis and Baelthm waited, easing out his water bottle and hoping that the watered lager would help his throbbing head and various aches he hadn’t realized that he had.

He still wondered why Threkhyl hadn’t been able to image a larger gap in the Antiagon stonework.