Imager’s Battalion

51

After introducing the new imagers to the other undercaptains, while Voltyr and Shaelyt arranged quarters in the upper levels of the house for the four new undercaptains and took care of other details, Quaeryt returned to the study. He wondered about the regiment likely to be assigned to Skarpa’s forces, but the commander would be the one to tell him-if and when Skarpa found out, and Quaeryt suspected that Deucalon would take his time.

Once Quaeryt settled at the plaques table, he set aside the letter from Vaelora, as well as one for Shaelyt, and another for Baelthm, and opened the dispatch from Marshal Deucalon.

Subcommander Quaeryt Rytersyn

Fifth Battalion

Attached is a listing of four undercaptains (provisional) and 182 troopers assigned to Fifth Battalion in order to bring the battalion up to full fighting strength.

Beneath the words was a seal, not even a signature. The second sheet held four names:

Horan Horotsyn, Undercaptain

Khalis Mhaersyn, Undercaptain

Lhandor Lohansyn, Undercaptain

Smaethyl Rytersyn, Undercaptain

Quaeryt nodded. The names did match those the officers had given, not that he’d doubted it, but sometimes you never knew, Quaeryt reflected. The next five sheets held the names of the troopers. Quaeryt returned his attention to the second sheet, looking at the names and mentally connecting them to the undercaptains. Horan was the mountain steader and trapper who’d given him trouble and who would likely be less difficult as time went by. You hope. Khalis and Lhandor were Pharsi, but Khalis was from Estisle, while Lhandor was from Lucayl. Smaethyl was from a small town in Montagne that Quaeryt had never heard of-Taelyrd.

He laid the dispatch on the table and studied Vaelora’s letter. Again, the seal had been carefully removed and then replaced. With a nod, he opened it and began to read.

My dearest,

The summer here in Solis has been long and hot. The first two days of harvest have been no cooler, and we have had no rain to cool the nights.

You cautioned me that this war would be long and bloody. Lord Bhayar must feel the same way, as new regiments are being formed and trained every other week. At least, it seems that way, and Aelina told me that another ten regiments will be dispatched to join the northern forces early next week.

Ten regiments? Had ten regiments arrived? Certainly Bhayar had given the impression that there were far fewer. He’d actually mentioned four. Why hadn’t he known there were ten? And if there weren’t ten, where had the others gone? Or had someone drawn the golds to supply ten and sent four or seven or whatever number less than that and pocketed the “extra” golds. Or were Myskyl and Deucalon keeping the exact number from Bhayar as long as possible-or at least until Skarpa and his command had left Villerive-so that more regiments weren’t assigned to Skarpa?

… There are also some undercaptains being sent to assist you. I understand that most of them come from smaller towns. In the weeks and months ahead, there will likely be others found with talents that you can use, since local governors have been promised a bonus for those found, and since such discoveries may also suit both High Holders and larger factors.

In short, they want to remove imagers. Quaeryt smiled. They should be careful in making such wishes. After a moment he thought, So should you.

When he finished the letter, he studied the date-2 Agostas. Almost four weeks-and it had arrived with the reinforcements that had been dispatched a week later. Again, it appeared as though her letter had been opened and delayed. So you wouldn’t know the number of reinforcement regiments?

He certainly had no proof of that, but the pattern was suggestive.

Vaelora’s letter reminded him that he needed to send what he had already written to her, and what he would write later that evening-and that he had never replied to Gauswn.

He stood and slipped her letter into his personal dispatch case, leaving it on the table, then picked up the two letters and the five sheets that held the names of the new troopers to give to Zhelan. Then he headed back down to the stable courtyard to evaluate the new imagers.

Two quints later, Quaeryt stood fifty yards back from the stable wall, against which were two barrels set on their ends, the closed butt end up. A thick plank ran from one barrel to the other, set on its edge with each end propped in place with bricks. The four most recent imager undercaptains stood in a line even with Quaeryt. Voltyr and Shaelyt watched from the side.

“Undercaptain Khalis,” said Quaeryt, “image an iron dart into the plank.”

“Yes, sir.” The Pharsi undercaptain, a gawky young man, barely more than a youth, who looked to be two or three years younger than Shaelyt, concentrated. An iron dart, more like a knife that was made of iron, appeared in the heavy plank fifty yards way, its tip barely sticking into the wood before it wobbled and dropped to the dirt.

“Less iron in the dart and more force into the plank next time,” commented Quaeryt before turning to Smaethyl. “Undercaptain Smaethyl, an iron dart into the plank.”

Smaethyl’s dart was half the size of the previous one and buried half its length in the wood as it carried the plank to the back ends of the barrel butt, and then over, so that the plank dropped until it was wedged between the barrel and the stable wall, the iron dart still protruding.

“Good,” declared Quaeryt. “Barbed blade?”

“Yes, sir.” Smaethyl’s face showed momentary puzzlement.

“You look like a hunter, and the blade didn’t move.” Quaeryt nodded to Voltyr. “If you’d image away the dart and re-set the plank.”

The dart vanished from the plank and reappeared at Voltyr’s feet. He picked it up and handed it to Quaeryt. Then he and Shaelyt walked forward to the barrel and replaced the plank, then returned to their position behind Quaeryt.

Quaeryt kept his smile within his face after watching Horan’s face as Voltyr imaged away the knife. The older imager had clearly been surprised. Good. After a few more surprises, he might not be so arrogant. “Undercaptain Lhandor, your turn.”

Lhandor’s dart was more elegantly shaped, but buried itself in the plank as deeply as had that of Smaethyl.

“Your turn, Undercaptain Horan.”

Horan didn’t image a dart, but something more like an ax that splintered the top of the plank.

Quaeryt looked at the perspiration and the redness suffusing the older imager’s face. “If you would do that again.”

Horan opened his mouth, then shut it, and turned to face the plank. A second ax dart wedged itself into the plank, but not nearly so deeply. Horan staggered, then lowered his head for several moments.

“Undercaptain Horan,” said Quaeryt firmly but not angrily. “We’re training for war, not for hunting. If you use all your strength in the first effort, the least experienced trooper will be able to knock you out of the saddle in moments. The idea is to be able to repeat the effort, quickly time after time.”

Horan straightened.

Quaeryt could almost read the other’s thoughts. He concentrated.

One after the other, five iron darts buried themselves in the plank, with such force that they went through the wood and pinned the plank to the stable wall, so quickly that the plank was not slanted in the slightest.

“Do you see?” asked Quaeryt, smiling.

Horan swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“Now … one of the tactics that has been most useful in dealing with the Bovarians is imaging thick and acrid smoke mixed with the finest grains of pepper. For some reason,” continued Quaeryt, “they find it hard to concentrate on trying to kill us when they have trouble seeing and they are sneezing violently. Undercaptain Shaelyt will demonstrate…”

Quaeryt, Voltyr, and Shaelyt worked with the newest undercaptains until two quints past fourth glass, when Quaeryt dismissed them all in time to wash up before mess. He returned to the factor’s house and washed as well, for although he had not been exhausted from imaging, the afternoon had still been hot and damp, and his face was damp and coated in dust and sweat.

After he cleaned up, he went down to the study, where he sat down at the plaques table and considered what he had seen of the four imagers. All of them were as accomplished, if not slightly more so, than Shaelyt had initially been. That made sense, because accomplished imagers who were either more isolated or more accomplished might not have been so easily discovered.

Then, a good quint before the evening mess, Quaeryt raised a concealment shield and slipped out of the study when no one was looking and eased down the hallway to a point near the archway into the main dining chamber where the officers were beginning to gather.

Smaethyl was talking to Desyrk, and Quaeryt could only catch some of the words.

“… always … work that hard … so quick…”

“… had us out working and seeing what we could do the morning after he showed up.”

“… always wants us to do more,” murmured Baelthm. “… find you can…”

Horan looked at Threkhyl and lowered his voice. “The officers in the other army never said the subcommander was a master imager. They said he was a scholar.”

“More than a master imager,” said Threkhyl curtly.

“He is both,” replied Shaelyt, “and more.”

The other two Pharsi undercaptains, who flanked Shaelyt, both nodded.

“How do you two know that?” asked Horan. “You never saw him before.”

“We saw him today,” replied Lhandor. “It is worth your life to cross one such as he.”

“He is a lost one,” added Khalis. “Or … as you easterners might say, a Namer-cursed spawn of Erion.”

You easterners? thought Quaeryt. Where is Khalis from? Another Khellan refugee? But he speaks Tellan without an accent.

“Except the lost ones are doomed to do good, no matter what it costs them,” added Shaelyt. “That’s why so many curse them.”

Shaelyt didn’t quite let you know that, either.

“True what he said about being a governor and all?”

“Every word of it,” interjected Voltyr. “He didn’t tell you, but he’s known Lord Bhayar since they were students as youths.”

“Then … why…?”

“Why is he only a subcommander?” answered Voltyr. “Because that is what Lord Bhayar wants and because Subcommander Quaeryt knows his limits and seldom presses beyond his capabilities-except sometimes-when he truly astounds anyone who has eyes to see.”

“You make him sound like … a god…”

Voltyr shook his head. “He is very human. He listens to what others say and thinks about it. He tries hard to be a good man and a good commander, and he’s better than most in those … but I would not cross him for anything.”

“When we might have died if we had fought, he refused to take the battalion into battle,” added Shaelyt. “He defied the marshal for us.”

I had Skarpa’s help and support, thank the Nameless … and Bhayar’s. After a moment another thought came to Quaeryt. How did Shaelyt find that out? From Zhelan? You’d best be more careful in what you reveal.

“… pay’s not bad, either,” added Threkhyl.

Quaeryt did not want to move, for fear of making sounds that would reveal him. So he listened as the talk turned to what had happened on the way to Villerive. Finally the chimes sounded fifth glass, and the officers filed into the dining chamber. When everyone had entered, and he saw no one around, Quaeryt released the concealment and stepped into the dining chamber. As usual, all the officers stood.

“As you were.” Quaeryt stepped to the head of the table. “No long talks tonight. I’d like to welcome Undercaptains Horan, Khalis, Lhandor, and Smaethyl. They’re solid imagers, and they’ll strengthen our ability to deal with the Bovarians.” With that, he seated himself.

After everyone had been served, and lager and ale filled every mug, Zhelan asked, “Do we know when we’ll be setting out on Solayi, sir?”

“Commander Skarpa hasn’t said, but if he’s the one to decide, and not the marshal, we’ll be on the road two quints past dawn on Solayi. I should know tomorrow.”

From that point on, the conversation turned on speculations as to what they would face on the south side of the River Aluse on the way to Nordeau.

After dinner, Quaeryt returned to the study, imaged one of the lamps into light, and settled at the table to deal with his correspondence. First, he needed to write Gauswn, even though the letter would offer no solution. He’d have to send the letter through Straesyr, since regular dispatch riders would only go to Solis and then to Tilbora, but he had no doubts that the governor would have it delivered to the chorister-although it was likely it would take weeks, if not a month or more, to reach its destination. So the first letter was to his former superior.

Dear Governor Straesyr-

I would appreciate it greatly if you would see that the enclosed letter to Chorister Gauswn reaches him, since he took great pains to request my advice regarding imagers and the scholarium in Tilbora. I regret that I cannot provide any solutions for his difficulty and only advice, but I would suggest to you, if news of great difficulty at the scholarium comes to you, that you replace the master scholar with the princeps for the rest of the master scholar’s year, and return the master scholar to his previous position. Of course, if you have a better solution, and well you may have, since it has been some time since I was in Tilbora, I would certainly recommend you implement it …

The remainder of the letter was a quick summary of what had occurred to Quaeryt himself since he had left Tilbor, followed by good wishes and pleasantries.

After that, it took several attempts before he could write the letter to Gauswn.

Dear Gauswn-

Your letter just recently reached me, since Lord Bhayar requested I leave my position in Extela and join the campaign against the Bovarians. I am currently a subcommander in command of Fifth Battalion somewhere in Bovaria …

I understand and appreciate your concerns about both the scholarium and the young imagers who find themselves with you as their only true friend. I commend you for your concern and compassion for them, and I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that. While there is little I can do at this very moment, I can assure you that I am working toward a goal that may help resolve the problems you brought to my attention. I have also made a suggestion to Governor Straesyr as to one possible course of action, should matters at the scholarium worsen. If you, in your best judgment, feel that the existence of the scholarium is threatened, do not hesitate to seek him out. He is a good man and governor, and just as well as fair.

In the meantime, I wish you well and trust that sometime in the year ahead I can offer more than advice …

He concluded with a few more pleasantries, then reread Vaelora’s letter before attempting a reply.

My dear one,

Your second letter has just reached me, and I have little time in which to respond before we again set out. The battle for south Villerive was difficult and exhausting, so much so that my undercaptains and Fifth Battalion required some rest before joining in the battle for the north side of the city, an unfortunate situation whose necessity Commander Skarpa was able to convey to the marshal with far greater skill and diplomacy than I possess. In the end, we were able to assist the marshal’s valiant troops to some degree, and to help in enabling his forces to rout and destroy a great proportion of the Bovarians arrayed against us.

Quaeryt paused and set down the pen. Why hadn’t there been more resistance? Admittedly, the defenders had certainly fought, but shouldn’t there have been more of them? In fact, there should have been more all along. Was it because Kharst had only intended to try to seize Ferravyl, and then withdraw if matters turned unfavorable? That was certainly possible. The history of war in Lydar had a common thread-no ruler had ever successfully conquered a strong and prepared neighbor, only ones with internal weaknesses or problems. Had the Bovarian attack on Ferravyl been more an attempt to probe for Telaryn weakness, a weakness suggested to Kharst by the revolt of the Tilboran hill holders? Had the Bovarian rex assumed that Bhayar was a weak heir to his father and that most Telaryn forces remained in Tilbor? Given that, had the attack on Ferravyl been designed, at most, as the beginning of a campaign of piecemeal acquisition, as Bhayar had told Quaeryt?

Then, when Quaeryt had destroyed the majority of the Bovarian forces, Kharst had not been prepared for a Telaryn counterattack in force, and had been using the troopers who remained in the east to slow the Telaryn advance, giving up territory while he mustered troops from across all Bovaria. To Quaeryt, that was the only thing that made sense. After several moments, he picked up the pen again.

I did not receive your latest correspondence until after the reinforcements arrived, and that was several days after the battle, but I was delighted to learn that all was well with you, even if Solis has been hot and damp. The newest undercaptains should prove most helpful, and their training is already well under way …

I also heard from Chorister Gauswn, since he wrote me for advice on dealing with the students for whom you helped me draft rules of conduct, and while I could not offer him an immediate solution, I am hopeful that once matters in Bovaria are settled, we may be able to resolve the problems he faces as well by setting up another scholarium, but one designed more for students such as those.

The weather here remains as hot as if it were still late summer or early harvest, rather than mid to late harvest, but warm as it is here or in Solis, I would that we were together …

When he finished the letter, he sat back, then reread it again. Assuming that Vaelora actually received it, he thought she would be able to read beyond what he had written. He could only hope that she and Aelina were handling the responsibilities with which Bhayar had left them, and that those surrounding them were not surreptitiously lining their wallets in too excessive a fashion.