Scholar

48

The sun was slanting into his face late on Meredi afternoon as Quaeryt rode beside Captain Meinyt up a dusty road rising gradually to the top of a low rise. For the past day, the battalion had ridden due north from the Albhor River largely through croplands. The wide valley behind them held hundreds of moderately sized fields, each one cultivated by a family, with most of the crop going, Quaeryt suspected, to High Holder Dymaetyn, the local High Holder, according to Meinyt. The rise they traveled was mostly pasture, with scattered brush and trees, but all trees and brush growth had been cleared fifty yards back on each side of the road.

Meinyt’s company was the second one in the column, behind more than a hundred mounts, and Quaeryt’s kerchief came away from his face tan with sweat and dust.

“You’re sweating all the time, scholar. Your mare’s the one doing the work, not you,” said Meinyt with a laugh.

“I’m a scholar, not a mounted officer. This is work for me,” parried Quaeryt as he blotted his forehead and neck once again. He couldn’t say for certain, but he thought he was finding it just a touch easier to carry the light shields he imaged for longer and longer-almost a glass at a time. It was still work.

“You should have been here last summer. It was really beastly, almost as hot as Solis, and there was never any wind. In Solis, or Tilbora, at least you can find places where there’s a sea breeze. Here, in between the high hills and the lowlands, when it gets hot, it gets really hot.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t here.”

“The winter’s worse,” continued Meinyt cheerfully. “The clouds are so thick there’s never any sun, and when there is it doesn’t warm anything up. The snow gets deeper and deeper, and, sometimes, for the last part of Ianus, we can barely get couriers between Boralieu and Tilbora.”

From the top of the rise, looking to the left of the road and to the west, Quaeryt could see another valley below, if not nearly so wide as the last, which held a smaller rise about two-thirds of the way across the valley toward the steeper-and largely forested-hills to the west.

“There’s Boralieu,” announced Meinyt.

Quaeryt blotted his forehead again and studied the “outpost.” It scarcely fit his conception of an outpost, looking more like a smaller version of the Telaryn Palace, except the walls were of a reddish brown stone, possibly sandstone, which was far easier to cut and quarry than granite or graystone. Even so, the walls had to be several hundred yards from end to end, and there were certainly a number of stone structures within the walls.

“How many companies are stationed here at any one time?”

“They’re really not stationed … they’re rotated in and out every month, even in winter, except sometimes there’s no rotation in the last weeks of Ianus and the first weeks of Fevier. The standing complement is two battalions, sometimes three, and a company of engineers.”

Ten companies? Close to twelve hundred men at the least? “How many outposts are there in the hill country?”

“Three others, but the others are smaller, just two companies of mounted foot and the engineers.”

“I’d heard about the hill brigands, but I didn’t realize that there was so much trouble here.”

“It’s not that there’s so much. It’s that they’re so scattered. You’d wear down the mounts and men trying to cover all the Boran Hills.”

“Are there any other hill areas in Tilbor that have so many problems?”

“There are a few holders in the northern woods, but we’ve only got a couple of battalions up there, and that seems to be enough. The High Holders there are more helpful in dealing with brigandage and lawlessness.”

Quaeryt nodded, but noted Meinyt’s views differed somewhat from what he’d heard from both Straesyr and Rescalyn. “And the companies at all the outposts are in addition to the ones at the Telaryn Palace?” He wanted to make sure he understood exactly how many companies there were and where they were.

“Well … they’re all part of the regiment … there are six battalions always at the palace, and that doesn’t count those at the outposts. The reason the companies at the outposts are rotated monthly is so all the companies get to deal with the troublemakers and so that no one has to stay more than a month at a time at any outpost.”

Quaeryt kept his mental mathematics to himself. “That way everyone is kept ready to deal with the hill types, and it doesn’t fall too heavily on one or two battalions.”

“Mostly,” replied Meinyt dryly. “Some of us end up doing a bit more. My company is always stationed at the northwest outpost in Ianus.”

“That’s why you were talking about dealing with brigands in the snow.”

“It’s usually not too bad.”

“Are there any other companies that have winter duties and skills?”

“Chydar’s company. That’s about it.”

Quaeryt was certain he didn’t want to be with Meinyt in Ianus, but why were so few companies specified to deal with the worst of the winter conditions? “Do you have special equipment?”

“Most of the men can handle snowshoes or skis.”

“Skis?” Quaeryt had never heard of skis.

“They’re long wooden slats that you strap to your boots. They keep you on top of the snow-if you don’t fall. When you go downhill you can outdistance a wolf or a mount. That’s if you’re good. Some of the local rankers are very good. It takes practice, but we get a lot of it in Ianus.”

“I’m glad I don’t have to do that.”

“It’s not that hard-unless you’re chasing brigands.”

“They attack in the snow?”

“They attack any time they think you’re weak. Besides, what else can they do in the winter except sit in front of a fire and drink?”

Quaeryt let that go. “Who’s in charge of Boralieu?”

“That’s Commander Zirkyl. He’s the post commander.” Meinyt looked to the north and the line of clouds over the hills in the distance. “Looks like we’ll get to the post and all the mounts stabled before the rain hits.”