Imager’s Battalion

52

On Samedi, all of Fifth Battalion was up early. Quaeryt set the companies to working drills immediately after muster, conducting maneuvers and drills to familiarize their replacements with their officers, tactics, and squad leaders. He worked with all the imagers on both the tactics that had become basics, such as imaging smoke and pepper, and targeting enemies with iron darts, but also trying to at least familiarize the new undercaptains with the idea of shields and shielding.

During the first break in training, at around eighth glass, a brief message arrived from Skarpa, noting that the southern forces had been assigned Eleventh Regiment, led by Subcommander Khaern, and that Skarpa and the other subcommanders would join Quaeryt sometime after third glass to discuss Solayi’s evolutions. Since Quaeryt really wanted to talk to Skarpa before all the subcommanders met, he sent a messenger to locate Skarpa, but a glass later the trooper reported back that the commander had been summoned by Marshal Deucalon early that morning, and that none of the Third Regiment battalion majors knew exactly where Skarpa was or when he was expected to return. The trooper checked with Fifth Regiment, but Subcommander Meinyt had no idea, either, beyond the fact that Skarpa had to be doing something Deucalon desired.

Although Quaeryt suspected he knew where Skarpa was likely to be, he wasn’t about to charge over to Deucalon’s headquarters and burst in and demand to see Skarpa. Such an act wouldn’t change anything, but it would prove to everyone that Quaeryt thought he was above his rank and cast doubt on Bhayar’s appointment of him as a subcommander. So he went back to working with the imagers, until slightly after third glass, when he dismissed them.

At roughly fourth glass, Skarpa rode up to Saarcoyn’s dwelling, with a half squad of troopers as an escort. Quaeryt barely managed to get out onto the portico before Skarpa reined up.

“Meinyt will be here shortly. So will Khaern,” the commander announced as he dismounted. “I sent a messenger to them both. This is midway between all three regiments, and we need to go over our departure tomorrow.”

“We can wait in the study, and I’ll send for some lager.”

“That would be welcome.”

“I thought it might.” Quaeryt gestured toward the entry, then followed Skarpa inside, after sending one of the troopers to have three mugs of lager brought to the study.

Once the lagers arrived, and the study door was closed, Quaeryt sat down across the plaques table from Skarpa. “I need to talk to you before the others arrive. I sent a messenger to you this morning. I’d hoped to talk to you, and I hadn’t realized that you’d be tied up all day. I’m sorry I didn’t seek you out last night, but…” He shrugged. “I should have known better.”

“About what?”

“I received a letter from Vaelora yesterday afternoon, but I didn’t read it until later, when I thought I’d have a moment to enjoy it. In it she mentioned that I would be getting some more undercaptains and that ten regiments were being sent to reinforce us-”

“Ten regiments?”

“That’s what she wrote. What’s also odd is that the letter was sent a week before the regiments were due to depart from Solis. Yet it arrived with the marshal’s dispatch accompanying the Fifth Battalion reinforcements. Oh … and the seal had been removed and replaced”-Quaeryt quickly explained about the altered seal and the unusual delay of Vaelora’s first letter-“so when I read about ten regiments of reinforcements…”

“That frigging bastard Deucalon … calling Khaern’s regiment the Eleventh! I should have guessed … I saw an awful lot of troopers, and I asked Deucalon about the number of reinforcements. He never really answered me.”

“You couldn’t very well demand an answer,” Quaeryt pointed out.

“But you could have asked Bhayar. That’s why Deucalon summoned me early. I’d wager you weren’t supposed to get that letter until later … except someone saw it who might report that to him. I had the feeling they were up to something. What they said they wanted was a waste of time after the first glass. When I’d say I needed to get back to the regiment, Myskyl or Deucalon had one request after another. ‘If you wouldn’t mind telling Commander Crecytt about the musketeers … Commander Dafaul about … Bovarian scouts…’”

“But if I went to Bhayar, around you and Myskyl and Deucalon…”

Skarpa nodded slowly. “You’d have undermined me, and hurt yourself, and you wouldn’t have gotten us any more troopers. If Bhayar had overruled Deucalon, then he’d have pissed off every senior officer in Telaryn, except us, and Deucalon would have resigned.” After a moment he mused, “Actually, it’s not a bad plot on Myskyl’s part. He puts you in a poor position no matter what, and even if you got us more troopers, then he’s got a shot at becoming marshal.”

“Or Deucalon throws the blame on Myskyl and demotes him, and we still aren’t much better off,” replied Quaeryt.

“Don’t you just love being a senior officer, Quaeryt?”

“You’ve got no one but yourself to blame,” countered Quaeryt with a smile. “You’re the one who insisted I’d be good at it.”

“You are. I’d rather have you than two full regiments. The problem is that Deucalon and Myskyl know it, and they’ll try to get a victory over the Bovarians by putting you and the imagers in a situation where even if you win, you’ll lose.”

“That thought had occurred to me.” Quaeryt took a swallow of the lager, then set the mug down on the table. “We just have to figure out a way to play our plaques so that everyone wins and it becomes obvious that Deucalon and Myskyl didn’t want it to happen that way.”

“You have that figured out?”

“Not yet.” Quaeryt offered a grin. “I’ve got until we take Variana, maybe even longer.”

“You make that sound easy. You really think…”

“No … it will either be long and bloody, or short and horribly brutal. That all depends on what Kharst does.”

“What’s your wager?”

Quaeryt shook his head, even as he thought, Horribly brutal, no matter how it turns out, but especially if Kharst can gather all his troops.

“Oh … I should tell you about Khaern. He was posted here from Lucayl. He commanded a battalion there that was charged with rooting out the pirates. Won’t say he got all of them, but the number of merchanters lost dropped by more than two-thirds in the two years he was there.” Skarpa snorted. “Rumor is that was one reason why he was promoted and his battalion became the core of Eleventh Regiment.”

“Oh…?”

“Several of the High Holders southeast of Ruile have holdings and wealth far more than might be expected from their lands.”

Quaeryt didn’t bother to sigh. He could believe it.

“Anyway, he seems like a solid type. Most likely why we got him.”

“And because he’s junior to you,” suggested Quaeryt.

“Of course.” Skarpa lifted the mug and took a swallow.

For a short time, neither officer spoke.

“Don’t look forward to the month ahead-”

At that moment, a trooper rapped on the study door. “Subcommander Meinyt and Subcommander Khaern are here, sirs.”

“Show them in.”

Meinyt opened the door, ushered in a short and wiry subcommander with red hair shot liberally with gray, and stepped into the study, closing the door behind him before the trooper standing there could. “We got here as soon as we could.”

Both Skarpa and Quaeryt stood.

Skarpa looked to Khaern. “Subcommander, this is Subcommander Quaeryt.” After the slightest pause, he added, “I’ve told each of you about the other.”

“I’m pleased to meet you,” offered Quaeryt.

“The same.” Khaern grinned warmly. “You don’t look like the deadliest officer Commander Skarpa has ever seen … but he said you wouldn’t.”

Quaeryt shrugged helplessly. “I just do what’s necessary to support the commander.”

“Sometimes that’s whether I’ve ordered him to or not.”

“Have I ever done anything that wasn’t to support you and in our interest?”

“No”-Skarpa laughed-“but at times you’ve done it before anyone realized what happened.”

Quaeryt decided to put an end to that line of bantering and gestured to the plaques table, saying cheerfully, “Your lagers are waiting for you.”

“We could use those.” Meinyt dropped into the chair across from Skarpa, who had seated himself.

Khaern eased into the one opposite Quaeryt, waiting momentarily for Quaeryt to sit.

After taking a swallow from his mug, Meinyt asked, “Have you two decided how to take Nordeau before the marshal orders another stupid attack that will cost too many troops?”

“We were getting to that,” said Skarpa.

“If he’d just have let the Bovarians withdraw to that hill and let the imagers deal with the Antiagon Fire first, we’d have lost less than a battalion, instead of a regiment. But no … he wants to attack when he wants to attack.” With a snort, Meinyt lifted his mug again.

After setting down his mug, Khaern gave the slightest of nods, but said nothing.

“How are your replacements?” asked Skarpa.

“They’re replacements. Some of them barely know one end of a sabre from the other. A few even have to hang on to the saddle if they move faster than a trot.” Meinyt took another healthy swallow of lager.

“And your new battalions?” Skarpa asked Khaern.

“I had to raise them out of Lucayl and around there. We trained them for a few weeks there, and then on the road. We joined the others at Ferravyl.”

“That explains the Eleventh Regiment,” said Quaeryt to Skarpa.

For an instant Skarpa looked as though he would swear, but he only nodded.

“What are you talking about?” asked Meinyt.

“The marshal decided that when he received eleven regiments of reinforcements, the southern army should get one.” Skarpa nodded to Khaern. “Not that I’m not very glad to have you, but another regiment in addition to yours would have been helpful.”

A puzzled expression appeared on Khaern’s face. “How many regiments are there in the northern army, then?”

“Twenty-two, from what we can figure,” replied Skarpa.

Meinyt almost choked on his lager. “That-” He stopped as he caught the look from the commander.

Skarpa said to Quaeryt calmly, “I haven’t heard about your new undercaptains.”

“They’re not bad,” Quaeryt admitted. “Two Pharsi youths who still could be students, but they’re decent imagers. Two hill types. One wanted to kill me, but decided trying wouldn’t do much for his future. The other I don’t know, but he can image a lot of iron darts.”

“Sounds like you did better than I did,” said Meinyt.

“Zhelan had the same complaint as you did about the replacements for first company,” said Quaeryt. “The Khellan officers didn’t get enough to reach full complement, but all the ones they got were Khellan Pharsi types who’d been injured and had recovered. They got replacements for about nine of every ten they’ve lost.”

“Why do you think you got better imagers?” asked Skarpa.

“A lot of the factors and High Holders don’t like imagers. Second, the four I got don’t look that good-two almost still schoolboys, a wild imager trapper, and an independent norther.”

“Still less than half a squad … well, half a squad counting you,” said Meinyt.

“Let Deucalon and the Bovarians think that,” declared Skarpa. “We need to talk about what we’re going to be doing tomorrow and on the way to Nordeau…”

Quaeryt nodded and squared himself in the chair.