“So we should have at least five kays before we run into trouble?”
Drakeyt shrugged. “Three or thirty…who knows?” He turned in the saddle. “Quelsyn, have all the squad leaders reported ready?”
“Here comes Lyrn, ser. He’s the last.”
“We’ll ride out as soon as he reports.”
“Yes, ser.”
Once Third Company left the orchard and deployed along the lane, heading south-southwest and roughly parallel to the river, Rahl felt more than a little handicapped because he could not use the screeing glass, and that limited how far he could sense ahead. Even so, he could tell that initially, Drakeyt was right. There were no rebel forces nearby.
In fact, as Third Company made its way southward, neither Rahl nor the scouts or outriders ran across any rebel forces. In some ways, that did not surprise Rahl, because he was leading Third Company along what amounted to back lanes rather than on the paved main highways. Had the rebels pulled back all the forces to key points? Was there a larger force stationed on the south side of the river at Selyma?
Rahl kept wondering that, but even by the time they needed to turn back some three kays north of Selyma, Rahl had found no trace of any large rebel forces and only a few scattered small patrols—and those had been only at the edge of his ability to order-sense.
When Third Company returned to the ferry point on the south side of the Awhut River on threeday night, Rahl and Drakeyt had mapped out a fairly direct route southward from lane to lane to a south road, and one that intersected the paved road southeast to Sastak less than a kay outside of Selyma. In three places, though, they would have to ride through fields or orchards to get from one lane to another, but none of those sections was more than half a kay in length, and they did not have to cross more than one small brook in doing so.
Bivouacking on the south side of the Awhut River on threeday night was among the most miserable experiences Rahl had undergone in at least several eightdays, if not far longer. The mist of twoday and threeday had turned into a light rain by twilight, a rain that continued well into the night. There were absolutely no real quarters anywhere, and the lean-tos created in the pearapple orchards with the tarp Drakeyt had carried was only enough for the two officers and did not keep all the rain off either. Rahl couldn’t help but worry about both men and mounts, and when he did doze off, his sleep was fitful at best.
LXXII
Third Company moved out early on fourday, riding down the lane beyond the orchard under a hazy sky that Rahl sensed might well clear by midday, or at least by midafternoon. Even by midmorning, Rahl had neither seen nor sensed any rebel forces, nor had he felt anyone using a screeing glass. He rode back from the outrider’s position and turned the gelding so that he was riding beside Drakeyt.
“There’s no sign of anyone. No one’s even looking with a glass for us. I can’t help but wonder if they’re just waiting somewhere.”
“That could be, but if they’re waiting, they’re not reinforcing the defenses on the other side of the river.”
“Why aren’t they scouting or looking?”
“They may be. We only know that they’re not scouting where we are. That makes sense, in a way. You don’t move large forces on narrow roads or lanes, and you don’t do it without supply wagons and logistics support,” Drakeyt said.
“I can see that for the longer distances we’ve had to cover,” replied Rahl, “but we’re only talking about riding one day away from the main body, crossing a river, and riding one day back.”
“They can’t cover everything. The old road swings north of the lake and swamp, according to the maps, and that’s an additional fifty kays out of the way. Then there’s the eastern route over the bridge at Bhucyra, and that’s another sixty or seventy kays going the other way. Both of those are good roads, much better suited to armies. If you were their marshals, would you be sending scouts down every side road? Remember, these lanes don’t really connect. Up ahead, we have to ride for half a kay through some fields, and later, there’s that apple orchard.”
Rahl nodded. Even a glass wouldn’t show a direct route along the river, and why would anyone try to guess at where a part of Second Army might go when it didn’t take the roads?
“The overcommander’s thinking like a light-horse commander,” added Drakeyt. “It wouldn’t work with the whole army, or if it had kept raining.”
Had Taryl been able to sense that the weather would change days before it had? Just how much magery had the overcommander mastered? Rahl realized that he really had no idea, for all the time he had studied with Taryl—and that was another lesson, of sorts. But then, how long would it be before he knew enough that he wouldn’t always be learning something else that proved he’d either made a mistake or barely escaped making one?
“It feels like it’s going to keep getting clearer. We’re done with the rain—or anything serious, anyway—for a while.”
“Then by later today, they’ll have more patrols out,” suggested the captain.
Rahl nodded. Drakeyt was doubtless right about that, too. “I’m heading back up with the outriders.” He urged the gelding forward.
Sometime after midafternoon, Rahl began to get a sense of rebels—or riders—ahead, but they had to be at least a kay beyond the end of the road that Third Company traveled. He eased his mount back to where Drakeyt was riding at the head of first squad.
“Rebels, Majer?”
“There are some ahead. More than a kay, I think. It might be several squads, or a company. It’s not any more than that. From what I can sense, they’re patrolling the area where in a kay or so, several lanes join the main road into Selyma.”
“Or out of it and to Nubyat or Sastak,” Drakeyt pointed out. “We need to send a messenger back to the commander.” He turned in the saddle. “Sienyr…forward.”
The lean trooper drew his mount up beside the captain.
“You’re to report to the commander personally that we have a rebel patrol force somewhat more than a kay ahead. Tell him that we await his orders.”
“Yes, ser.” With that, the trooper turned his mount and began to ride back down the lane toward the main body of the regiment.
“We need to slow to a slow walk,” Drakeyt added to Rahl. “A slow and quiet walk.”
“I’ll bring in the scouts and outriders somewhat,” Rahl replied.
The company had covered less than a kay when Rahl sensed the return of Sienyr and another rider.
“Hold here!” he told the scouts and outriders, before turning the gelding back to find out what the commander had ordered.
The courier had already reined up in front of Drakeyt by the time Rahl reached the captain. “Captain, ser, the commander requests that you circle behind the rebels. You are to hold off meeting or engaging them for as long as possible, but you are not to allow any of them to gain the town. He is sending Eighteenth Company to reinforce you, but requests that you make haste to take the main road behind the rebels so that they cannot cross the river and report to their commanders.”
“Convey to the commander that Third Company has received orders and is complying.”
“Yes, ser.” The courier nodded and turned his mount.
Drakeyt looked to Rahl. “Do you have any ideas on how we can get past them, Majer?”
Rahl tried to reconcile the map and what he had sensed most recently. He wished he dared use the glass, but using it would reveal his existence and position, and that would defeat much of the purpose of their mission. “There’s a low hill to the right of the lane, and we could go around in, but the other side is exposed for close to half a kay before we could reach the main road.”
“Then we’ll have to send a squad the other way, farther to the east, to see if we can tease them and keep them interested.”
“I could do that,” Rahl suggested.
“I’m sure that you could, Majer.”
Rahl managed not to wince. “But then, that might not be the best idea.”
“That’s true,” replied Drakeyt evenly. “It might be best to make sure that you’re available tomorrow.”
Rahl could almost read the exact words the captain did not speak—since much of the misdirection of the operation rests on your using magery from the rear of their position. Yet Rahl couldn’t help but feel torn. He didn’t like sending someone else to be a target of sorts.
“Sometimes, Majer,” Drakeyt said quietly, “others have to take the risks. They all know what you’ve risked for them.”
Drakeyt’s words helped, but Rahl still worried. Finally, he spoke. “They’ll have to be a lure, almost. If they head east and south, they’ll come out to the southeast of the patrol, and they’ll look more like we’ve taken the long way.”
“That might just get the patrols racing back to Selyma,” Drakeyt said.
“It might, but I can’t think of any other way to try it. I’d think, if they look small enough, the rebel commander might try to find out more.” Rahl paused for a moment. “I don’t think I’d like to send a report that I spotted a few Imperial troopers, and I didn’t know where they came from or what their objective was or how many there might be.”
Drakeyt laughed. “I wouldn’t, either. Let’s hope their commander feels the same way.” The laugh died away. “I’m going to send second squad.”
In moments, or so it seemed to Rahl, he was leading the scouts and outriders off the lane and through a muddy field that held sprouts of green, not that many in the line of the company would survive. He glanced back to his left, watching as second squad trotted ahead on the lane, although shortly they would turn more eastward, then south, cutting through an orchard of short well-trimmed trees that he did not recognize.
Drakeyt was leading the main body of Third Company, only about two hundred cubits behind Rahl. While it was cool, the air was so damp that Rahl had removed his riding jacket. That hadn’t helped too much, because he was still sweating, even just wearing his uniform shirt.
Once they neared that point on the northwest side of the low grassy hill—if a rise less than ten cubits high could be called a hill—where any further advance might expose the scouts and outriders to view from the main road, Rahl raised his arm and called a halt, while the four remaining squads of Third Company closed the gap.
“Forward! Quick time!” ordered Drakeyt as soon as he neared Rahl and the outriders.
“Forward!” Rahl repeated.
After riding less than a hundred cubits, Rahl could see the main road ahead and slightly to his left. There were no rebels—and no riders—on the stretch closest to Third Company, but Rahl could sense the rebels—and the fighting and deaths and injuries farther to his left, if out of his immediate sight.
“To the road, then sweep toward the rebels!” ordered Drakeyt.
Rahl had his truncheon out well before he turned the gelding southeast on the smooth stone-paved road, a highway easily wide enough for six or seven mounts abreast.
“Five-front!” Drakeyt gestured to Rahl. “When we get there, take third squad onto the far side of their formation. Keep to the right.”
Rahl nodded and eased the gelding almost to the right shoulder of the road.
“Third squad! On the majer! Pass it back!”
Ahead, Rahl could see the mounts and backs of the rebel force, a full company that had already surrounded second squad. Rahl could sense that Khasmyr had withdrawn so that his rear was partly covered by a small orchard.
The rebels did not even seem aware of the oncoming attack of Third Company until Rahl was within a hundred cubits or so of the rearmost of the rebel force.
“Impies! Behind us!”
The last rank of rebel troopers began to turn their mounts, but most were still trying to re-form into some sort of order when Drakeyt and first squad slammed into their ranks.
“Third squad! On the shoulder! On me!” Rahl called, remembering not to use order to boost his voice.
From that moment on, Rahl was acting mainly on instinct, using the truncheon as much for defense as offense, but he managed to keep an eye open at least intermittently for possible rebels who might try to break free and report back to the main body on the north side of the river.
Even so, he knew he’d killed at least one rebel and injured more than a few by the time Eighteenth Company arrived and the remaining rebels surrendered.
He’d also seen several rebels riding southward in the direction of Sastak, but none headed toward Selyma. At least, he didn’t think any had gone that direction.
“Third Company! Re-form!”
Rahl rode slowly back toward Drakeyt. He had to know what Taryl’s orders had cost second squad.
Drakeyt looked at Rahl.
Rahl looked back. “How many?”
“Nine are left, plus three wounded. One won’t make it.” Drakeyt cleared his throat. “The rebels got in their own way. Otherwise, most of them wouldn’t have made it.”
“Khasmyr used the orchard to try to keep them from circling behind him.”
“He did. Good tactic. He didn’t make it.”
Rahl almost apologized, except…that wasn’t his fault. He just nodded. “He did what he had to.”
“We all did.” Drakeyt gave the smallest of headshakes. “Let’s see what orders the commander has.”
The orders were simple enough. Take that part of Selyma south of the river. No violence against the locals, but no rebel, should there be any in the town, was to be allowed to escape.
Riding into Selyma was anticlimactic—and vaguely amusing. Upon seeing the Imperial uniforms, the locals scurried for cover. Door after door slammed shut. Shutter after shutter closed.
Long before sunset, two companies of Fifth Regiment held the arching stone bridge over the Awhut River, and the rest of the regiment was quartered in local dwellings and buildings along the main streets and roads to the bridge. No troopers were stationed on the bridge itself, but two squads stood ready on the south side, should anyone attempt to cross. Several archers were among those holding the bridge.
The commander’s orders were simple. No one was allowed to cross the bridge heading north. Anyone coming over the bridge to the south was to be detained until after the attack began on fiveday.
Drakeyt and Rahl found a small inn—more of a boarding house—three blocks from the bridge and commandeered it for Third Company. They had barely settled the troopers when a courier summoned them to the River House Inn, where Shuchyl had set up his temporary headquarters.
As he and Drakeyt rode along the brick-paved street toward the square and the inn, Rahl couldn’t help but wonder if almost every town along the Awhut River had a River Inn or tavern or something.
Commander Shuchyl was actually standing on the wide front porch of the inn as Rahl and Drakeyt rode up and dismounted. The commander beckoned for them to join him, and he ushered several majers away.
Shuchyl was squat, broad-shouldered, with a nose like a vulcrow and small bright eyes that reminded Rahl of a traitor bird. His voice was deep and gravelly. “Captain…Majer…your initiative and tactics in preventing the rebel company from sending word to the rebel command are greatly appreciated.”
“Thank you, ser.” Rahl and Drakeyt spoke almost simultaneously.
“Tomorrow, we will ride at first light. By the orders of the overcommander, Eighteenth Company will lead, and Third Company will follow Eighteenth. Once we clear the town proper on the north side of the bridge, you are to carry out these orders.” The commander lifted a sealed envelope and extended it—reluctantly, Rahl could tell—to Rahl.
Rahl nodded politely as he took the envelope, only saying, “ser,” politely.
“You remain in command, Captain,” Shuchyl continued, “but the majer will direct you as ordered by the overcommander.”
“Yes, ser,” replied Drakeyt.
Rahl was more than relieved to sense amusement, rather than resentment, from Drakeyt.
“That is all, Majer, Captain.”
“Yes, ser.�
��
Neither Rahl nor Drakeyt spoke until they had mounted and were well away from the River House Inn.”
“Are you going to open that envelope, Majer?”
“Once we’re alone, Captain. Then, we can either laugh or be totally appalled, with no one being the wiser.”
Rahl was all too certain that he was going to be appalled.
LXXIII
On fiveday, Rahl and Drakeyt were up well before first light. Rahl had not slept all that well again, although sleeping in an actual bed, lumpy as the horsehair mattress had been, had been better than a bedroll on the ground.
Taryl’s orders had not been appalling in their detail, but in their lack of such. They had consisted of little more than one line:
Take the far western flank and attack with all force and magery possible short of exhaustion and foolhardiness.
“Those orders are just a way to keep Commander Shuchyl from taking control. That’s all,” Drakeyt had said.
That much had been obvious to Rahl, but what sort of magery could he do that would be effective and not totally exhaust him? He could protect himself, if he didn’t do much else, but that wasn’t an attack, exactly. The ooze-magery might work against the stone redoubt on the easternmost hill, but the rebels were too scattered along the hills west of where the main road cut through them. He couldn’t throw more than one or two order-bolts, and that wouldn’t be nearly enough.
Drakeyt looked from where he stood beside his mount outside the boarding house. “Ready, Majer?”
“As ready as I’m likely to be, Captain.”
Drakeyt grinned and swung himself up into the saddle with an easy grace that Rahl admired. “Then let’s see if Quelsyn has everyone mustered.”
The senior squad leader was waiting at the front of the formation. “Third Company, ready to ride, ser.”
“Very well, Quelsyn, we’ll move to the avenue and toward the bridge.”
Mage-Guard of Hamor Page 52