Imager’s Battalion

“The housekeeper says that there’s a black coney deep in the garden, but that when it appears it’s a sign of ill fortune to come.”

Quaeryt almost laughed. A black rabbit a sign of misfortune? Abruptly he realized he’d never seen a black hare, not wild or domestic. “Then we’d best not look for it.” He pointed. “Those stone squares-there once were two stone pillars on this side of the birches.”

“Sometimes, nature does outlast the works of men.”

In the end, always. Quaeryt squeezed her hand.

“You can smell the wild roses. They’re so much more fragrant than the ones cultivated for gardens. Over there…”

As he walked with Vaelora, Quaeryt knew the day would be far too short, and that he would have to leave all too soon.

Before he knew it, fourth glass had arrived, and he had changed into a clean uniform and was leading the mare into the courtyard. Vaelora walked beside him, and they made their way to the drive in front of the hold house.

As he stood beside the mare, ready to mount, she turned to him. “Remember, with your thoughts and your heart, that you did not bring this war to pass. All you can do is your best for everyone … and for us, the three of us.” With her words came tears.

He held her for a long time, murmuring his love for her, before she released him and stepped back.

He mounted, and then looked at her. Neither spoke. What more can we say?

Her smile was unsteady.

He touched his fingers to his lips, then blew a last kiss to her before he turned the mare and rode to join his escorts waiting farther out on the drive.

Halfway down the drive, as he glanced back one last time toward Nordruil, he wondered how long it would be before he saw her again.

His lips quirked into a wry smile. And to think, a year ago, you had met her but for a few moments, and had received one very scholarly letter.

A year had changed everything. He just hoped the year ahead did not undo all that the previous year had brought. He pushed that thought away and looked at the road ahead, leading to Ferravyl.

8

Quaeryt did not dream of ice on Solayi evening, nor did he wake before dawn on Lundi morning to frost coating the walls of the small stone chamber he rated as a subcommander. He dressed and hurried to the senior officers’ mess in the north side of the bridge fortification. Once there he quickly ate a breakfast of overcooked scrambled eggs and chopped mutton. He washed down his food with poor ale-which reminded him to image better lager into his water bottle when he reached the stables and saddled his mare.

Major Zhelan had Fifth Battalion largely formed up in position north of the bridge over the Aluse River when Quaeryt and the six imager undercaptains rode up. Quaeryt eased the mare over beside Zhelan’s chestnut gelding.

“Good morning, Subcommander.”

“Good morning, Major. Any difficulties?”

“No, sir. Not yet, anyway.”

“Have you learned anything more about or from the Khellan officers?”

“No, sir.”

“Once we’re over both bridges, I’ll spend a glass or so riding with each one of them, starting with Major Calkoran. Tonight we’ll talk over what I discover.” Or what you don’t, if you fail to learn anything of importance or interest.

After his initial meeting with the three majors, Quaeryt had decided that he’d learn little or nothing in any formal meeting, at least not until the Khellans were more comfortable with him, and he thought the only way to do that would be to ride with them for periods of time during the advance on Variana.

“Fifth Battalion stands ready, sir,” announced Zhelan formally.

“Thank you, Major. I’ll report that to the commander. I will be riding with him for a time. As always, you are in command in my absence.” Zhelan knew that, but Quaeryt made the statement to reinforce that fact to the imager undercaptains, and he was leaving them with Zhelan at the moment. Although Skarpa half requested, half ordered the imagers to ride in the van, Quaeryt didn’t think he’d mind at least until they had crossed the second bridge into Bovarian territory.

“Yes, sir.”

Quaeryt turned in the saddle. “Undercaptain Voltyr, you are in command of the imager undercaptains, but you answer to the major in my absence.”

“Yes, sir.”

Quaeryt turned the mare and rode toward the head of the column to meet with Skarpa, arriving just before Meinyt reined up.

“Good morning, Subcommanders,” said Skarpa.

“Good morning,” replied Quaeryt. “Fifth Battalion stands ready.”

“Fifth Tilboran is ready,” added Meinyt.

“Then we should proceed.” After a moment Skarpa added, “Whoever would have thought a major, a captain, and a scholar would have ended up where we are?” He grinned at Quaeryt. “Except for the scholar, and he didn’t expect to become a subcommander. I told him he ought to be an officer.”

“Everyone’s allowed some doubts,” replied Quaeryt with a laugh.

“Any last moment news about the Bovarians?” asked Meinyt.

“There’s no sign of any troopers within fifteen milles,” said Skarpa. “The scouts haven’t covered the area west of that except along the river, but there’s no indication of Bovarian forces.”

“First indication is when we lose someone or they attack,” said Meinyt.

“They won’t attack soon. They don’t have many men close enough to attack in force. They’ve barely had enough time to get a messenger to Variana and to ride back here.”

“Archers or crossbowmen and destroying bridges?” suggested Quaeryt.

“We’ll have to keep alert for those sorts of things,” said Skarpa. “I think Marshal Deucalon will face more of that, though. His force is larger, and the roads on the north side of the river are better.” He raised his arm and nodded to the hornist.

The call for the advance echoed across the north end of the river, and the outriders started forward. Meinyt nodded, then turned and rode back to Fifth Regiment, which brought up the rear and guarded the supply wagons.

“If you wouldn’t mind my riding with you, sir, for a bit?” asked Quaeryt. “It’s acceptable that the imagers remain with the battalion for a time?”

“For the morning, perhaps longer, depending on what the scouts report.” Skarpa urged his mount forward, and Quaeryt eased the mare in alongside him. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’m not certain I have anything in mind. I was more interested in anything you might have considered.”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that we have all the elements of the Telaryn forces that might be considered suspect or different.”

“Piedryn forces that are less well trained, Khellan rebels, and imagers, you mean? Not to mention Tilboran regiments commanded by officers considered possibly less … traditional. With far fewer archers and engineers, as well. Have I missed anything?”

“You didn’t mention a subcommander married to the sister of the Lord of Telaryn. He is an officer with a habit of not respecting the privileged excesses of certain High Holders.”

“Has it been said like that?”

“Not quite. It might as well have been, though. Why do you think the forces were split that way?”

“The most obvious reason was because the forces on the north side of the Aluse will face greater opposition.