He had no doubts that, sooner or later, he’d need them.
When he finally washed up and collapsed on his bunk, he still couldn’t help but think about Zandyr. There had been something … something. But he couldn’t remember what it might be before his eyes closed.
LXX
Chaos-bolts rained down on Beltur, so many of them that each one burned as it struck his shields. Trying to escape the deluge of chaos before his shields collapsed, he bent close to Slowpoke’s neck and urged him to sprint at an angle to the oncoming Gallosian heavy mounted riders so that the white wizards couldn’t keep throwing chaos-bolts without incinerating their own troopers … but the chaos-bolts kept coming as Slowpoke charged past the endless line of Gallosian riders, as each was charred into a blackened set of bones that collapsed.
Ahead, he could see a figure in blue, slashing wildly at other men in the blue of Spidlar … and there was something all too familiar about the blond officer … and the flaming bloody slash across his neck—
Beltur woke with a start, sweat streaming down his face, the salt burning the corners of his eyes. He glanced around, half seeing, half sensing the other pallet bed—empty—thinking that Zandyr must have stayed out late again … Except he’s dead.
Shuddering, Beltur sat up and swung his legs over the side of the pallet bed, then half wiped, half blotted the worst of the sweat out of his eyes, still trying to escape the ominous sense of dread that his nightmare had occasioned.
There hadn’t been that many chaos-bolts. Does that mean that there will be?
Beltur could have snorted at the stupidity of that question. He didn’t. He just blotted away more sweat, despite the cool, almost chill air in the small space.
He could understand why he’d dreamed of fiery chaos-bolts, but why had he dreamed of a flaming bloody slash across Zandyr’s neck? Why was the slash flaming, and not just bloody? What was that all about?
After several moments, he suddenly understood what his dream had been trying to tell him. Zandyr hadn’t been fighting mounted Gallosians, but footmen with blades and shields, bucklers really, or foot with halberds. But the slash across his neck had been level and deep. If he’d been killed in the melee on the mudflats, how could a footman have made a slash that deep and level—unless Zandyr had practically been lying against the neck of his mount? Any wound from a halberd would still have been angled.
A level slash … Beltur shuddered at what that meant.
LXXI
Although Beltur finally did get back to sleep, when he awoke on twoday morning, he couldn’t totally shake the feeling of foreboding that the nightmare had conveyed. Given that foreboding, he decided to take no chances and had the mess fill his water bottles with ale at breakfast. He also managed to get a loaf of bread and immediately secreted the ale and bread in his gear in the stable before making his way to the morning muster.
Even though he had seen the carnage of the previous day, it was a shock for him to survey the squads lined up at muster. If he counted correctly, there were only about sixty men in formation when the captain stepped forward. Sixty … out of over a hundred.
After Gaermyn announced that all men were present or accounted for, Laugreth paused, then announced, “We’ve been assigned to patrol the Axalt road again today. There have been isolated Gallosian units observed. Dismissed to mount up.”
As the rankers and squad leaders headed for their mounts, Laugreth walked over to Gaermyn and Beltur, where he addressed Beltur. “You’ll still ride with me at the head of First Squad. You may go and saddle up.” Then he turned to Gaermyn. “I’ll need a few words with you about today.”
“Yes, ser,” answered Gaermyn.
As he headed for the stabling area, Beltur wondered exactly what the captain had to say to Gaermyn, but whether he’d ever find out was another question.
He’d just finished saddling Slowpoke, who seemed no worse for the wear of the previous day, when he heard a voice behind him.
“Undercaptain.”
Beltur looked up to see Laugreth standing just outside the stall.
“Yes, ser?” Beltur could sense that Laugreth was less than pleased, and he wondered what he’d done wrong. “What is it?” He walked over to the captain and waited.
Laugreth handed him a sealed envelope. “Your orders. I understand you’re being assigned to the command staff. I’m assured it’s temporary.” The captain paused. “Temporary for as long as the fighting lasts.”
“But … why? I never asked…”
Laugreth frowned. “It was suggested…”
“Never, ser. I’ve never even spoken to anyone about wanting to leave or serve in another way.”
“You’ve been as straight with me as any captain could wish. Why would anyone suggest that you requested a change of duty?”
“The only thing I can think of is that I’m not exactly in the favor of the senior mage here.”
Laugreth smiled. It wasn’t exactly a friendly smile, but Beltur knew it wasn’t directed at him. “Would you mind, Undercaptain, if you didn’t happen to receive whatever is in this envelope until after today’s evolutions.”
Beltur understood. “I wasn’t aware that you even had anything for me.”
“Good. You must have left to form up before I could reach you.”
“Yes, ser.”
Laugreth grinned. “Then get out of here. We have a road patrol to undertake.”
In moments, the captain was gone.
As Beltur led Slowpoke outside, he wondered about the purported orders. He didn’t see how it could have been anything but Cohndar’s doing. But why would Cohndar want him transferred away from the dangers posed to Second Recon to a position that Athaal had indicated was merely shielding high-ranking officers? That didn’t seem to make sense, and that meant Cohndar had something else in mind. Beltur was certain he wouldn’t like it when he found out.
By the same token, the captain had clearly wanted Beltur to go on the road patrol. But why? Was it simply that Second Recon had taken so many casualties, and Laugreth wanted Beltur’s ability to sense Gallosians at a distance for as long as possible to minimize possible losses? Or did the captain also have enemies? Did he believe that Second Recon was being given the most dangerous missions? But a road patrol was almost a rest compared to what Second Recon had been doing.
Once outside, Beltur mounted and then rode and joined the company at the head of First Squad, noting that the wind was definitely out of the north and cool. Laugreth appeared shortly and ordered the company to move out without saying a word to Beltur.
Beltur waited another third of a glass before speaking. “Do you know if anyone saw a company of Gallosians or just more scouts?”
“Only a few uniformed Gallosians, but someone on the Council was worried because there are wagons with valuable cargo coming from Axalt. The trader apparently insisted on a company. I’d guess that Commander Vaernaak told Majer Jenklaar to pick the company he could spare most.”
“Because we’re the most understrength?”
“The majer didn’t say that.”
“So we’re to ride east and make certain the wagons or caravan or whatever isn’t raided, and escort them safely back to Elparta.”
“I don’t think the majer would be upset if that occurred.”
“But no one is about to issue an order like that?”
Laugreth laughed softly. “Do they have to?”
Beltur understood that as well. If anything happened to the trader’s shipment, Second Recon would take the blame. “We might be fortunate and have a pleasant ride.”
“That’s possible. Even likely.”
Beltur nodded. The majer hadn’t had to say it. “Captain…?”
“Yes?”
“There’s one other thing. I’ve been thinking. About Zandyr. There was a level slash across his neck…”
“It’s almost too bad you’re a mage, Undercaptain. You could become an outstanding officer, even without lifting a blade.”
“Not all wounds come from the enemy, Undercaptain,” Laugreth said quietly.
“But … who…” Beltur didn’t even have to shake his head. He understood why all too well.
“I think you understand.” Laugreth shrugged, fatalistically. “It could have been any one of twenty. No one will say anything. Rankers judge their officers. They know enough that they can respect an officer they don’t like. Those they respect, they’ll often die for. They’ll accept those they merely dislike. Those officers who belittle them and worse … and who don’t listen or learn … well, it’s not a good idea for an officer who’s hated and who seems incompetent to lead his men into a bloody battle. You’ve already seen the difference. Rankers rushed to support you. The fact you demon-near died didn’t hurt, either, because it was clear part of the reason for that was because you were protecting the rankers beside you.”
“I just did what had to be—”
“You did what you should have done. Good officers do. Let’s leave it at that, shall we? And appreciate the fact that we’re all getting a bit of a rest.”
Since Laugreth’s words were anything but a question, Beltur did.
Three glasses later and almost ten kays east of Elparta, Beltur had not even sensed a Gallosian. Shortly after that, Second Recon encountered a line of wagons, led by two mounted guards, both of whom appeared relieved at the sight of Spidlarian uniforms.
Beltur accompanied Laugreth as he rode over to the lead wagon and reined up.
“Thank the Rational Stars you’re Spidlarians,” said the bearded wagon master. “We worried about Gallosians or raiders.”
“You’ve got quite a line of wagons here,” said Beltur. “They’ve goods for Trader Eskeld?”
“Oh, no, ser, Trader Alizant.”
“Spices, then.”
“Yes, ser.”
“I can see why you’re concerned.”
“We couldn’t bring them through Gallos.”
“No, you couldn’t,” said Laugreth.
Beltur thought the captain hid a smile.
“We’ll escort you to Elparta,” said Laugreth.
“The trader would appreciate that. We’d appreciate it even more.”
The captain nodded, then turned his mount. Once they were away from the wagons, and Laugreth had sent Gaermyn and Fifth Squad to ride rearguard, he turned to Beltur. “As you said, a pleasant ride to finish out an uneventful day. Possibly the last one for a while.”
“You think the Gallosians will step up their attacks?”
“They’ll have to if they want to have any chance of taking Elparta before the weather turns bad.” Laugreth gestured toward the north, where dark clouds were beginning to creep over the horizon. “Those suggest rain, or at least showers, tonight or tomorrow. They’ll pass, but in a few days, there will be more. That’s what fall is like.”
As he and Laugreth escorted the wagons back along the road, Beltur couldn’t help but think about the incredible irony of Second Recon being the company to escort Alizant’s precious spices back to Elparta. He also wondered if that had any bearing on Laugreth wanting Beltur to ride with Second Recon, except he doubted that Majer Jenklaar had ever mentioned what trader’s wagons were involved.
After escorting the wagons to the northeast gate, Second Recon returned to the piers, where Laugreth dismissed the company to quarters.
Beltur had finished stabling and grooming Slowpoke and was leaving the stabling area, when he saw Laugreth walking toward him, an envelope in hand, most likely the very same envelope that the captain had carried that morning.
“Yes, Captain?”
“Here are your orders, Undercaptain. I can only say Second Recon will miss you, and that having you serve was a pleasure. Since your duties will require a mount, you will remain responsible for Slowpoke.” Laugreth smiled. “Besides, you two belong together.”
“And you’ll have to find another difficult horse for arrogant junior undercaptains?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean, Undercaptain.” But Laugreth was still smiling when he turned and left.
LXXII
The orders were indeed a transfer from Second Reconnaissance Company, but what Laugreth hadn’t said, or possibly known, was the specific wording:
… You are to report to Majer Nakken, Chief of Staff for Marshal Helthaer, for further assignment as directed by and necessary …
Beltur still wondered why Laugreth had not wanted him to have the orders until after the road patrol, especially since Laugreth had been taking a risk in not delivering them. Except he changed his mind after you told him you hadn’t requested any transfer. Was he trying to protect you, to give you another day’s rest?
Beltur nodded. That was likely just another example of why the rankers and squad leaders had wanted him as an officer.
After a moment, Beltur took a deep breath, then set out.
Finding Majer Nakken wasn’t so much difficult as time-consuming and required Beltur to ask at least a half score officers and rankers where the majer was to be located. By half past fourth glass, he finally found himself sitting on a rough plank bench against the wall of the converted warehouse near the westernmost doorway. An older squad leader sat at a table outside a closed door, one of the few actual doors Beltur had seen since he’d arrived.
The door opened and two captains walked out, and a thin graying man with a majer’s insignia on the collar of his rumpled blue uniform stood in the doorway and motioned to Beltur. “Come on in, Undercaptain. Close the door after you.”
By the time Beltur had entered the small room that held little besides a wide table desk, two chests, and four straight-backed chairs, one behind the desk, and three in front of it, the majer was seated and motioned to the chairs.
Beltur sat down and waited.
“I thought you received orders this morning, Undercaptain.”
“No, ser. I received them right after Second Recon returned from patrol this afternoon. I immediately came to find you.”
“What patrol was this?”
“We were ordered to patrol the Axalt road because of reports of Gallosians.”
“Did you find any?”
“No, ser. We did end up escorting a trader’s wagons back to Elparta. I understand the wagons carried spices.”
Nakken said nothing.
Neither did Beltur.
Finally, the majer said, “It’s a wonder there aren’t more delays. In your case, it wasn’t critical.” He paused, then went on, “As you will discover, Undercaptain, there are already two other command mages, and you would be the third mage in the battlefield command group, after Captain Athaal and Undercaptain Lhadoraak. I believe you know Captain Athaal?”
“I do, ser.”
“Excellent. You might ask why Commander Vaernaak needs three black mages in the command group. The answer is that he doesn’t. You will be assigned to support a specific unit as soon as it arrives, which will be sometime tomorrow. Senior Mage Cohndar felt that you would be the best possible mage officer for this duty. You have already managed to destroy one of the Gallosian mages, I understand?”
“It took the help of archers with iron arrows, and the support of a full squad, but we managed it, ser.”
“You’ll have even more impressive support in this unit. For tomorrow, you will support Majer Waeltur, as necessary, and as he sees fit. You will report to the briefing room next door at sixth glass tomorrow. You’ll be summoned earlier, if necessary.”
“Can you tell me about this unit, ser?”
“You’ll find out when it’s appropriate.” Nakken stood. “That’s all for now.”
Beltur stood. “Yes, ser.”
Then he made his way out, careful to close the door behind himself.
After the majer’s terse words about the delay in Beltur’s arrival,
Beltur wondered again why exactly Laugreth had wanted him with Second Recon for another day.
He’d taken no more than a score of steps in the direction of the officers’ mess when he saw a familiar figure hurrying toward him. “Athaal!”
“I thought you were going to be here this morning.”
“The orders didn’t get to me until after we returned from patrolling the Axalt road. Majer Nakken wasn’t pleased about that, but it wasn’t my doing.” Not entirely, anyway.
Athaal half turned and gestured to the fine-featured blond mage beside him. “Beltur, this is Lhadoraak. You might recall—”
“I do.” Beltur smiled at Lhadoraak. “He’s spoken most favorably of you.” His smile turned into a grin. “And your daughter.”
Lhadoraak offered a rueful but humorous smile in return. “Taelya makes a far better impression on people than I do, I fear.”
“We might as well go to the mess together,” said Athaal. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”
“No. It took me a while to find the majer, and then I had to wait.”
“Undercaptains, even mage undercaptains, always have to wait,” said Lhadoraak cheerfully.
As the three walked toward the officers’ mess, Beltur studied the blond mage, sensing almost immediately that while Lhadoraak was definitely black, he didn’t have the “depth” of blackness or order that Athaal had. Is that why he was assigned to the command group?
Once in the mess, the three sat down at one end of an empty table.
Almost immediately a ranker appeared with three mugs of ale. “The fare will be here in a few moments, sers.”
“Thank you,” replied Athaal warmly.
After a moment, Lhadoraak looked to Beltur. “Athaal says that you’ve been involved in a lot of action.”
“More than I ever thought,” admitted Beltur.
The Mongrel Mage Page 65