Vaelora opened her mouth, then shut it. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to be so sharp with you. I don’t know what’s come over me.”
“Being with child, being hungry, being on a warship in a strange land trying to do things for your brother and your husband where more and more often matters are not proceeding as planned … those might have a little something to do with it. Just a little.”
Vaelora offered a faint smile. “They might.”
Moments later Nykaal arrived with the steward and breakfast. “Good thing we ported yesterday. The fog looks to be thickening. Sure sign of winter.”
“You sound almost cheerful about it,” said Quaeryt.
“No sense in complaining. The Nameless won’t do anything about it, and the Namer doesn’t care.”
“Spoken like a true captain,” replied Quaeryt, stepping back and letting the steward set platters and mugs around the circular table.
“Will it snow here, this far south?” asked Vaelora, waiting for the steward to set her platter down before seating herself.
“Probably not,” replied Quaeryt. “We’re about as far south as Solis, and we’re on the water. Fog and cold drizzle are more likely.”
“It’s chill as it is.” Vaelora cupped her hands around the mug.
Quaeryt hid a smile. The night before she’d been complaining about how hot she’d felt.
The way she looked at him suggested he hadn’t hidden the smile that well.
“What are your plans, Commander?” asked Nykaal.
“We’ll need to see how many mounts we can round up, and what we can learn about whether the High Council is presently gathered in Khelgror. I’m hopeful that we might get a report from Subcommander Calkoran.”
Nykaal nodded. “I had one of the ensigns check with the portmaster this morning. There weren’t any messages or dispatches.”
After breakfast Quaeryt met quickly and in turn with Zhelan, Khaern, and then the imagers. He dispatched Zhelan to continue looking into the possibility of finding mounts, listened to Khaern’s report on the regiment’s readiness, and told the imagers to stand by. Then he stationed himself on the upper deck, where he could see at least the nearer part of the pier while the fog continued to burn off … and to wait. Vaelora joined him for a time, then repaired to the stateroom. Quaeryt couldn’t blame her. The air was raw, and he wasn’t good company.
Almost another glass passed before he heard the sound of hoofs on the stone of the pier. Then he saw a squad of riders in Telaryn uniforms. Through the drifting fog, he couldn’t make out the officer at the head of the squad, although he had the feeling it might have been Arion. Even before the riders drew up on the pier opposite the gangway for the Montagne, Quaeryt was hurrying down the ladders to the quarterdeck.
As the officer walked up the gangway, Quaeryt recognized him. “Major Arion!”
“Subcommander…” Arion looked puzzled. “I did not see you … after the battle.”
The Pharsi’s accented Bovarian caught Quaeryt by surprise for just a moment, but he quickly replied in Bovarian, “It left me somewhat … whiter.”
“More like the lost son of Erion.” The major’s eyes went to Quaeryt’s collar insignia. “Excuse me, Commander.”
Quaeryt decided not to protest anything associated with being a lost one. Not at the moment. “It happened after you left for Khel. If you’ll come aboard, we can talk in the captain’s stateroom. He’s lent it to Lady Vaelora and me.”
“Your lady is with you?”
“Lord Bhayar appointed us both as envoys to the High Council.”
The dark-haired and black-eyed Arion smiled. “He was wise in that.” The smile faded.
Quaeryt led the way to the upper sterncastle and the captain’s cabin, then knocked before opening the hatch, a door really, but Quaeryt couldn’t help but think of it as a hatch.
Vaelora rose from where she had been writing at the circular table.
“Dearest, might I present Major Arion?”
Arion bowed deeply. “I am most honored, Lady.”
“It’s good to meet you, Major.” Vaelora smiled warmly. “My husband has spoken well and often of you and your abilities.”
“He may have been generous, Lady.”
“Kind, perhaps,” she replied, “but he is honest in his assessments of others.”
Quaeryt gestured to the table. “Please sit down.”
Once the three were seated, Arion glanced from Quaeryt to Vaelora, then smiled. “Since you are both envoys, I should report … and then deliver a message.”
“Please.”
“We suffered no attacks on the ride west, but we did not ride far toward Khelgror. We had barely left Kherseilles when a messenger from the High Council reached Subcommander Calkoran. The Council requested that we ride to Saendeol to meet with them.”
“Where is that?” asked Quaeryt.
“A week’s ride north and west of here, in the warm hills. It was the old winter meeting place of the High Council, back in the times of my great-great-grandmere. Even then, they did not like to meet in the winter ice and snow of Khelgror.”
“How long were you there?”
“More than two weeks before the subcommander dispatched us to await you.”
“It sounds as though he wanted to make certain we were met as soon as we arrived,” said Quaeryt. “Are … there difficulties? How has the Council received Lord Bhayar’s suggestions?”
“They have not shared their views on what Lord Bhayar proposed. They were less than kind to Calkoran for presenting them.”
“What did they expect? Is he all right?”
“Thank you for asking. He will be pleased that you inquired about him. He is in good health, but some have accused him of being a traitor, especially the … Selenorans.”
“Selenorans?” asked Vaelora.
“The believers in the moon goddess-Artiema. They believe Lord Bhayar is the agent of Erion, and that Artiema, and Khel, must never be hostage to the Great Hunter and lesser moon.”
Quaeryt shook his head. “Then they do not understand the world as it is.”
“Is not that why Lord Bhayar has sent you both?” Arion’s words were wry.
“It might have something to do with it,” Quaeryt admitted. “Matters have not gone as well as we might have wished. We were attacked by Antiagon ships on the way, and we’ve had a little difficulty in locating mounts.” Quaeryt kept his voice bland.
“That is not surprising. As soon as the High Council read Lord Bhayar’s message, they issued an edict forbidding the sale of any horses to anyone from Telaryn, Bovaria, or Antiago.”
“I understand why they might do that,” Quaeryt said. “I can also say that it might not have been the wisest of decisions.”
“They doubt that Lord Bhayar will soon send an army to Khel, not when he has not fully conquered Bovaria.”
“They’re right. He won’t. But he does not forget, and if he does have to send an army…”
“Calkoran suggested that. They did not believe him.”
“What do you suggest, Arion?”
“The High Council has agreed to meet you in Saendeol. I think you should do so. They have sent with me enough mounts for one company.” He paused. “And for the undercaptains.”
“We only brought four of them. The other four are in Bovaria with Submarshal Skarpa’s forces.”
Arion raised his eyebrows.
“Yes, I did bring Lhandor and Khalis, as well as Horan and Baelthm.”
The major nodded.
“When do you suggest we depart?” asked Quaeryt.
“When you are ready.”
“This afternoon at first glass?”
Arion smiled. “You do not wish to tarry.”
“Lydar cannot afford delays. Or other mistakes. Neither can Khel.”
“Then I will have the mounts here at noon. Did you bring saddles and riding gear?”
“We did.” Quaeryt stood. “Thank you for all that you’ve done.
We look forward to talking with you on the ride to Saendeol and hearing what else you’ve learned.”
Arion rose quickly. “I do as well, sir. Until later, sir.”
Once the major left the Montagne, Quaeryt summoned Khaern and requested that Nykaal join them as well.
The ship’s captain arrived first, but only a fraction of a quint before the subcommander.
When Khaern entered the stateroom, he inclined his head first to Vaelora, then Quaeryt, and then Nykaal. “You requested my presence, sirs and Lady?”
“Please have a seat.” Quaeryt gestured to the vacant chair at the circular table. “You may have heard that we’ve had some difficulty obtaining mounts.”
“There’s been some word about that, sir.”
“You may also recall that Major Arion served under me before he was dispatched with Subcommander Calkoran to suggest an agreement with the High Council of Khel. He rode into Kherseilles a short time ago with his company. He informed me that the High Council has effectively prohibited the sale of any horses to anyone not serving the High Council. The Council is willing to provide us enough horses to mount up first company-and Lady Vaelora and the undercaptains-so that we may travel to Saendeol to meet with the Council.”
“If I might say so, sir, that doesn’t appear to be the most conciliatory of acts on the part of the Council.”
“That was my first thought,” replied Quaeryt. “Yet, from their point of view, landing two warships and troops in Kherseilles might not be considered terribly conciliatory, either.” He turned to Nykaal. “What are your thoughts on the matter, Captain?”
“You’re not going to make that strong an impression with one mounted company. On the other hand, I doubt that they can force us out of Kherseilles.”
“I wouldn’t want it to come to that, for a number of reasons. What are the arrangements for the merchanters?”
“Their contract is over once your troopers disembark, and they’ll leave on that night’s tide, I am more than certain.”
“And your orders?”
“Both the Solis and the Montagne are to support you for so long as you require.”
“Will that be a problem in terms of supplies?”
“No, sir.”
“Then it appears that our immediate course is set.”
Nykaal frowned, if briefly. Vaelora nodded.
“I have no mounts for Eleventh Regiment, and no way for Eleventh Regiment to return immediately to Ephra or Geusyn. We are charged with meeting with the High Council. They are amenable to meeting. So first company, when appropriate but as soon as practicable, will ride to Saendeol to meet with the Council. I’m planning on departing at first glass this afternoon.”
“With but one company?” asked Nykaal. “You can’t even be certain that the Khellan battalion won’t attack you if their Council decides you’re a danger.”
“They’ve seen what the commander can do, sir,” replied Khaern, “and they’re not stupid enough to bring his wrath down on them.”
Nykaal frowned. “But if they believe that…”
“Why doesn’t the Council?” asked Quaeryt. “Because no one believes much of anything until they get burned or watch someone else get burned, frozen, or otherwise destroyed. Some don’t even understand when they do see. Those are the ones who have to experience it firsthand … and too many of them don’t learn from the experience because they don’t survive it.”
Nykaal still wore a puzzled frown.
“Captain, there are forty thousand dead Bovarian troopers and officers,” said Khaern. “That doesn’t include a rex and most of his court. There’s scarcely a building left standing in a space three milles wide and a mille deep. You probably think I’m telling tall tales. I’m not. My men had to help bury all those bodies. So did the Khellan troops.”
“If you’re wondering why we didn’t do something like that to the Antiagon ships,” added Quaeryt, “there wasn’t any need to, and it’s better to save extreme measures for extreme situations.” He smiled. “Now … we need to discuss how you feel we should handle the Montagne and the Solis.”
“I’d prefer to have one at sea off the harbor at any time. The Antiagons have been known to sneak in vessels and fire them before they could raise sail.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. You and Khaern can work out details for what troopers you need aboard. First company, Lady Vaelora and I, and the imager undercaptains will be riding out at first glass. We will send dispatches, although I doubt that you’ll learn much until we reach Saendeol. Unless you have any questions, several of us need to ready ourselves for another ride.” Quaeryt glanced sideways to Vaelora, and the two of them rose.
31
By a quint past first glass, Quaeryt, Vaelora, and first company were riding away from the pier and the Montagne. Arion had insisted that Quaeryt ride a large black gelding and Vaelora a matching black mare.
So long as it’s not a white stallion, Quaeryt had thought when he’d saddled the gelding.
Arion had not brought all of fourth company to Kherseilles, just two squads, both of which rode rearguard, while Zhelan dispatched first company’s second squad as the vanguard, with scouts from both first company and from Arion’s squads. Quaeryt and Arion rode on each side of Vaelora, with Khalis and Zhelan following, and the other undercaptains after them.
As they rode away from the burned-out warehouses that still lined the harbor, Quaeryt began to count the houses and shops that appeared ruined or vacant. After three blocks he stopped. Roughly one in every three or four structures appeared deserted and looked to require significant repairs to make it livable once more.
“Did all the destruction happen during the war?” asked Quaeryt.
Arion laughed harshly. “Almost none of it did. There weren’t any battles fought here in the south. Kharst just marched an army from Laaryn to Khelgror, and then shipped forces to Ouestan and Eshtora. Those forces closed the ports and waited. Factors from all over Lydar descended on Kherseilles with their own guards and armsmen and took whatever they wanted. Sooner or later, that happened to all the port cities. It happened sooner in Ouestan and Eshtora. After the Red Death, we did not have enough men to send to every port, so we fought the Bovarians near Khelgror. We fought until we had but a few companies left. We almost won, but there were too few of us. Once we were defeated, they removed any Pharsi factors who had survived and replaced them with people of their own. Except in the coastal hills in the west, they didn’t create high holdings. Anyone who complained was executed. For any Bovarian trooper or functionary who was killed, they killed five people at random. So … troopers and factors began to disappear. For every Bovarian who vanished, they killed three people.”
“How many troopers or factors vanished, and then reappeared?”
“That happened once or twice. After that, they still killed three people-and they also killed the people who vanished if they showed up again.”
“How many of the people are left?” asked Vaelora.
“The Red Death took one in three. The war took one in four of those remaining. The factors and the troopers that supported them took one in four from those survivors-and then those who remained killed all the troopers when we learned that Bovaria had fallen to Lord Bhayar. That cost us many people, mostly women.”
Quaeryt attempted to make the calculations in his head. “Based on those numbers, today you have about four out of every ten who lived in Khel ten years ago.”
Arion shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“Do you know why the High Council is opposed to Lord Bhayar’s terms?”
“They have not spoken to me, or to any of us who served under you-except for Subcommander Calkoran.”
“Then tell me why you think the Council opposes Lord Bhayar’s rule.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“I might have ten or fifteen years ago. Today … no.”
“They do not see it that way. They trust no one. Many would rather die than be ruled by an outside
r. The Selenorans believe Lord Bhayar would be as bad as Kharst, if not worse.”
“Would that be so even if the Council were given some authority for what happens in Khel?”
“There is a saying about a ruler’s promise lasting less time than a black coney in winter.”
“Is a black coney the sign of bad luck?” asked Quaeryt.
The slightest hint of a frown crossed the major’s face. “Not that I know … well … there is the saying that he who hunts only black coneys will soon starve.”
“For more reasons than one, I’m sure,” said Quaeryt dryly. “How is Captain Stensted doing? And your men?”
“All are healthy, and all are pleased to be back in Khel.”
“But … there are some matters that are unclear?” suggested Quaeryt. “Such as whether your allegiance is to Lord Bhayar and how long you’ll be paid, especially since there are few coins indeed in Khel? And since you agreed to fight against Rex Kharst and he’s dead?”
“Those things have been mentioned.”
“I thought they might have been,” replied Quaeryt.
Arion said nothing, but kept riding, avoiding looking at either envoy.
“Lord Bhayar did promote Subcommander Calkoran. To me, that suggests he believes all of you are still serving him and will be paid as such. Unless, of course, that allegiance is repudiated. I imagine the High Council sees it that way as well, and that could place the subcommander in a difficult position. A most difficult one.”
“He has said as much to me.”
“But not to Major Zhael, I would guess.”
“I do not know, but Zhael has said nothing.”
“So you’re to find out what you can?”
Arion grinned, somewhat sheepishly.
“I think Bhayar would like to keep paying you all for as long as you would serve him.”
“That would mean Khel would become part of Telaryn.”
“That is his hope … and mine. I do not think the future of Khel will be very bright without Bhayar’s support.”
“Would you turn against Khel, Commander?”
“I’m not interested in turning against anyone. Lady Vaelora and I are here to try to find a way that Khel can agree to become part of Telaryn so that all Lydar is united and there will be no more wars among its people.”
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