Imager’s Battalion ip-6

by L. E. Modesitt

  “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.

  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 tact
ics 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.