Imager’s Battalion

34

Quaeryt woke in the darkness to an off-key trumpet and the insistent clangor of a bell, followed by shouted commands, and then by the muffled sounds of weapons. For a moment he had no idea where he was, not until the undercaptains around him began to stir. Then he sat up on the thin pallet he’d covered with his single blanket and yanked on his boots and put on the uniform shirt he’d folded and laid aside to sleep in the too-warm night.

“Imagers! Muster out front!” Quaeryt stood and hurried toward the door.

When he reached the narrow porch of the cot, he glanced around, but while he heard sounds, they did not come from the river road to the west, but more from the southwest. That made sense. The Bovarians wouldn’t have attacked along the road if they wanted to surprise Skarpa’s forces.

Both moons were but thin crescents. Neither shed much light, and in the near darkness, all he could see were the shadowy figures of troopers forming up.

What can you do that will be most effective? As soon as he asked himself the question, he realized how stupid it was, since he had only a general idea of from where the Bovarian attack was coming … and none about what Telaryn forces were responding and how.

When the imagers all appeared, after what seemed like a quint, but was closer to a few moments, he ordered, “On me! To the headquarters house.” At least we can protect Skarpa, if necessary.

But by the time they had reached the large dwelling, it was clear that Skarpa and the other officers had already left.

“We’ll move up the river road,” Quaeryt stated firmly. “Be ready to image. Smoke first, then iron darts. Only on my command.”

“… can’t see … friggin’ thing…”

Quaeryt had no trouble recognizing Threkhyl’s loud and surly voice.

“… is night, you know?” replied Desyrk. “You expect the moons to shine for you?”

“… be helpful…”

“Quiet,” Quaeryt ordered firmly, but not loudly, image-projecting his voice back at the undercaptains. He strained to hear and to see any moving shadows, but the only sounds nearby were those of his men. Even the noise of fighting to the south had died away.

After walking another hundred yards or so, Quaeryt heard movements to his left, coming from the south, and he immediately extended shields. “Stand ready!”

At that moment a good squad of Telaryn troopers charged out from a small grove of trees on the left side of the river road toward the imagers.

The two troopers in the lead ran into Quaeryt’s shields and rocked back. One stumbled, and the other fell at the edge of the road, then scrambled to his feet.

“Imagers! Halt!” snapped Quaeryt in Tellan. Then he image-projected his voice at the troopers. “As you were!”

The troopers stiffened, and a squad leader hurried forward, blade at the ready.

“Sir?”

“Subcommander Quaeryt. The imagers and I couldn’t do much in the dark where every one is all mixed up. So I thought we’d cover the river road.” Quaeryt hadn’t thought it out quite that precisely. He’d gone more on instinct.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. We didn’t know.”

“You wouldn’t have. No damage done,” said Quaeryt. But there could have been. The last thing we need is to take out our own troops-or have them take out an unaware imager. “We haven’t seen any Bovarians. Have you?”

“Not here, sir. The ones who came from the south withdrew when we hit them. Well … after they hit us and we pushed them back. The captain sent us here to make sure they didn’t circle us.”

As the squad leader explained, Quaeryt could see more troopers gathering and forming up in the trees.

“It’s just the imagers and Subcommander Quaeryt, sir!” the squad leader called.

A captain strode out of the trees. “Subcommander, sir, Subcommander Meinyt didn’t tell us you’d be here.” The accent suggested he was from one of the battalions from Piedryn.

“He didn’t know. There wasn’t time to inform him.” Quaeryt gestured. “We can move west on the road together.”

“Yes, sir. Appreciate it, sir.”

As Quaeryt led the imagers along the road, flanked by the Telaryn company, his eyes searched the dimness ahead, barely illuminated by the stars and thin crescents of Artiema and Erion, but a portion of his thoughts were elsewhere.

Holding shields was the only imaging that was even halfway effective in deep darkness or where the imagers couldn’t see, for one reason or another, and he was the only imager proficient in doing that. Yet … Have you delayed too long in trying to start them in learning shields?

He didn’t think he could have started much sooner … but the question still nagged at him.