Imager’s Battalion

to someone you could not stand.”

“There are times,” she responded, her voice holding a hint of playfulness.

Quaeryt was about to respond when he heard bootsteps. He waited.

“Sir … there’s a Commander Skarpa who just arrived from Ferravyl to see you…” offered one of the rankers from the door to the breakfast room.

“Escort him to the study. I’ll meet him there.”

“Do you think…?” asked Vaelora.

“I don’t think so. I’d judge he wants to see me before I return to talk over how he’d like us to work together.” Quaeryt stood and smiled wryly. “But you never know.”

He reached the center hall at the same time as did Skarpa. The ranker escorting the senior officer stepped back in deference to Quaeryt. The commander had obviously worn an oilcloth waterproof, since his uniform shirt and tunic were dry, while his trousers beneath the knees were wet.

“I hope the ride wasn’t too difficult,” offered Quaeryt, gesturing down a corridor made gloomy by the heavy clouds outside.

“Wet, and long, but not hard.”

“You could have sent word for me to see you early tomorrow.”

“Then I’d have gotten a courier soaked and made tomorrow even longer for both of us.”

Quaeryt reached the study and motioned for Skarpa to enter, then followed, closing the door behind himself. Skarpa stopped and extended a visor cap, an officer’s cap with the insignia of the double moons. “I thought you might like a replacement. I heard yours fell apart … in the ice. You’ll need it here in the south.”

“Oh … thank you.” Quaeryt almost flushed as he took the visor cap. He’d never thought about the cap. Half the time, he forgot he was wearing it. Sometimes, he’d just forgotten it. He stepped toward the circular table, where he seated himself, as did Skarpa.

“I wanted to talk with you where we wouldn’t be interrupted before you returned to Ferravyl,” said Skarpa.

“That suggests problems or matters of which I’m unaware … if not both.”

“There are always problems. Sometimes, we just don’t recognize them. Sometimes, they’re people who shouldn’t be problems, and sometimes we hope, against hope, that they’ll disappear.” Skarpa laughed. “I learned a long time ago that it’s best not to rely on hope if there are other paths. I’d rather save my hoping for times when there is no other way.”

“What are the people problems?” asked Quaeryt.

Skarpa shook his head. “I don’t know, except it takes Deucalon far too long to decide. That happens most often when a subordinate raises too many questions that don’t matter.”

“You don’t have any idea?”

“No. Even if I did, what difference would it make? He won’t listen to the most junior commander about subcommanders and majors he’s worked with for months or years. Especially not about more senior commanders.”

Quaeryt could see that.

After a moment of silence Skarpa said, “I understand Lord Bhayar visited you yesterday. I presume he did discuss more than family.”

“I understand Zhelan and I will have to deal with three Khellan companies…”

“It’s worse than that. Each company is led by a Pharsi officer who used to be the equivalent of a major or a subcommander, with another officer below him, and most of the troopers don’t speak either Tellan or Bovarian. The officers speak both Bovarian and Pharsi. That was another reason for putting them under you.”

“Another reason?” inquired Quaeryt lightly. “Besides the fact that he can claim I’m of Pharsi descent?”

Skarpa nodded, then said slowly, “There’s also the fact that people around you who aren’t loyal to Lord Bhayar … don’t … prosper. And that you seem to know quickly who they are.”

“How many officers besides you have come to those conclusions?”

“Myskyl, of course, and he told Deucalon. Every officer in all the Tilboran regiments.” Skarpa grinned. “So by now … just about every officer.”

On top of everything else … Quaeryt shook his head.

“Could any of your imager undercaptains handle his own company?” asked Skarpa. “Not now, of course. We don’t have the troopers. I’d like to start, when you think it possible, by giving each a squad, with a senior squad leader at their elbow.”

“I wouldn’t put any of them in command yet … even of a squad.” They know far less than I did, and I knew almost nothing. “Desyrk’s got the most common sense, but he’s not that strong an imager. Voltyr has sense, and he and Shaelyt are stronger, but they have a lot to learn. In time, it might work if the squad leader were in charge of the squad’s movements to begin with, and those three were told they were being trained to take over greater leadership. But I wouldn’t do it now, or anytime soon.” Quaeryt grinned ruefully. “I’m barely effective with a company, and that’s with Zhelan to keep me from making too many mistakes. But that’s why he’s there.”

“You’re better than that, but unlike some officers, you understand what you can do.”

“You think this is going to be a much longer war, don’t you?”

“Don’t you?” returned Skarpa.

“I don’t think that fighting large battles will take all that long. What comes before may take months, and what comes after will take years.”

“That’s why I wanted to know about your undercaptains. Who’s the strongest imager … among them?”

Quaeryt didn’t care for the way the question had been phrased, intentionally, because Skarpa was effectively pointing out that Quaeryt was the strongest imager, without saying so. “That would be Threkhyl, but he’s like an ax with a greasewood shaft.”

“Good to keep in mind, but that’s not what we need right now.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“There’s another question I had. An observation. It looked to me that you and the imagers created that bridge.”

“I’m just their subcommander.”

Skarpa raised both eyebrows.

“I might have helped some,” added Quaeryt.

“I’m not the only one with doubts about that statement.”

“It’s true.”

“I’m certain it is. Rescalyn, Myskyl, and Governor Straesyr all agreed on one thing. Nothing you say is untrue. It’s just not always the entire truth, or it has nothing to do with what the question was, although it may seem that it does. Myskyl said you and your imagers built the bridge and Third and Fifth Regiments will be the first to use it.”

“So we’re assigned to the south side of the river because we created the bridge?”

“Can you think of a better reason?” asked Skarpa. “Besides the fact that we’re the three most effective regiments they have?”

“Three? I heard that you’d have two regiments and a battalion, and that half of each regiment was composed of Piedran rejects.”

“Any regiment under Meinyt will be effective, and a battalion under you and Zhelan is as good as a regiment.”

“I do marvel at your optimism.”

“Realism. We’ve had more actual fighting than any other regiments, and we’ve killed and captured more than any others, and we’ve had fewer casualties. Bhayar knows that.”

“I’m certain he does.”

“He also knows one other thing.”

“Which is?”

“You are absolutely loyal to him.” After a moment Skarpa asked, “Why? You can’t have liked the way he treated you after all you did in Extela.”

“He did what was necessary. I made a choice between doing what was politically wise and what was best for