been true Bovarian troopers. Nonetheless, he held the imagers and first company in readiness just in case.
After a time, Skarpa rode over, and Quaeryt rode from his position to join him.
“You know that pepper trick won’t work against regular troopers?” said Skarpa.
“I know. They’ll have too many archers, and they won’t let us get close enough.” Quaeryt smiled. “But it might work in close combat when matters are not going well.”
“You have a nasty turn of mind, Subcommander. It was a good tactic for this.”
“I hoped it would be.”
While the troopers of Third Regiment continued to round up the uniformed Bovarians, who looked to Quaeryt to be more of a militia or a local guard of some sort, Quaeryt studied the edge of the town, far too neat to have been supported by the gaggle of cots and small holders to the east. That suggested that they would find more prosperous lands along the south side of the river farther to the west, because the cable ferry wouldn’t have been developed or used without trade and people going back and forth.
A courier rode toward Skarpa from the center of the town, reining up beside the commander. “Sir … Subcommander Meinyt has captured the cable ferry tower. There was little resistance.”
“What else?” asked Skarpa.
“Even before we reached the tower, sir, the Bovarians had cut the cables.”
“Thank you. Tell the subcommander we will join him shortly.”
“Yes, sir.” The courier turned his mount and rode back up the brick-paved street.
“The Bovarians were watching from the north bank,” said Skarpa. “They don’t want us to be able to reinforce Deucalon.”
“They couldn’t even see the fighting,” said Quaeryt. “They must have cut the cables when they saw Meinyt’s men reach the cable tower.”
“We’re likely at least two days ahead of Deucalon,” said Skarpa.
“How do you figure that?”
“We had a day on them to begin with, and I know how Deucalon moves. That means we can take a day here and rest the men and the mounts.”
“You don’t think he’ll try to send a messenger across the river?”
“He knows the terrain. There’s no way to get a messenger and a mount across from where he likely is so that the messenger could catch us until we’re both west of Rivecote. That’s another reason to wait.”
“Orders?”
“He suggested it before we left. Besides, we need to get the town in order.” Skarpa grinned. “You have much more experience with that than anyone else.”
Quaeryt offered a mock-groan. “You would remember that.”
“So … what do you suggest to begin?”
“Patrols on all the streets, half squad size. No violence against people unless they start it. Name-calling isn’t violence, but inciting others to violence is … We need to get that word out to the people immediately as well…”
Skarpa nodded and listened.
13
By late on Mardi, Quaeryt had trooper patrols riding the streets of Rivecote Sud, with already experienced and effective troopers because, with Skarpa’s approval, he used those companies from Third Regiment who’d served the same function in restoring order to Extela after the eruption-and Rivecote Sud was a far smaller place. Then he, Skarpa, and Meinyt had to obtain what passed for quarters for more than three thousand troopers and their officers, although Skarpa did take over the largest inn for the senior officers and the imager undercaptains.
By Meredi morning, the militia or local reserves that Skarpa’s force had captured were working hard and removing the earthen berms, filling in the staked pits, and burying the handfuls of Bovarians killed the day before.
Quaeryt and Skarpa had ridden out to see the progress of that work under a slightly cooler sun and a silver hazed sky that promised a far hotter afternoon.
“Just four deaths?” asked Quaeryt.
“So far. There might be one or two more from wounds.” Skarpa shook his head. “Pepper. Who would have thought it?”
“I was fortunate.” Quaeryt sensed that the limited number of deaths, given what could have happened, was a relief to Skarpa. It was certainly a relief to him, because, for what he still wanted to do, the more the casualties could be limited to troopers and those seen to rule, the better.
“I’ve heard that from you before, all too many times,” replied Skarpa. “You need another phrase to disguise what you don’t want to explain.”
“How about the fact that it really was chance? I heard someone sneeze … and that led me to think about what caused sneezing.”
“What if no one had sneezed?”
“We might have had more casualties.”
“I’m glad you said
“Ah … no,” replied Quaeryt. “There was the business of setting up patrols and a few other matters.”
“You should, and I need to see how our few engineers are coming in restoring it to use.”
“When Deucalon reaches Rivecote Nord?”
“When Deucalon and Lord Bhayar reach the other tower. It might be good to have communications, but that will mean I’ll have to leave at least half a company here to keep matters in order-if you think that is sufficient.”
“A full company might be better, but let me think about that.” Quaeryt understood Skarpa’s reluctance to leave too many troopers behind because each garrison left behind reduced the men available for the next battle.
Skarpa turned his mount uphill toward the river and the center of the small town, and Quaeryt followed, still holding full shields.
As they rode down the brick-paved main street, Quaeryt noted that most of the dwellings and virtually all the shops had brick walls and slate roofs. Was that because brick was better in the damp climate … or because there was a brickworks nearby, or both? He also couldn’t help but note that the majority of dwellings and shops, especially the larger dwellings, were set on what amounted to a long rise that ran an angle from the northeast to the southwest. For a moment he wondered why, then nodded. The ground was higher and less likely to be inundated during times of high water, such as floods or the spring runoff.
In less than a half quint, they reined up in the south courtyard that surrounded the ferry tower. After dismounting and tying the mare to one of the hitching rings, Quaeryt followed Skarpa up the outside brick staircase to the second level of the tower, girded on all sides by a railed open balcony. Skarpa walked to the river side of the balcony. “What do you think?”
Rather than answer immediately, Quaeryt studied the tower and its surroundings. The cable ferry was far less elaborate than he had pictured. On the south side of the Aluse River was the stone tower where he stood and from where he could look out across the river, located on a bluff that rose some ten yards above the surface of the water. The top of the tower was about five yards above the base of the paved courtyard, and three above the low stone wall enclosing the courtyard. Two thick braided cables ran from a square timber framework secured in an open gallery facing the river down to the sheltered water downstream of the bluff where a single oblong flatboat was tied up to a dock, beside a large winch powered by an ox-driven capstan. The cut ends of the cable were draped across the flatboat.
From what Quaeryt could determine, the ferry was linked by shorter cables to a set of sliding pulleys that had run on one of the two main cables, with another set of cables linked to the winches on each side of the river. There were two slips below, suggesting two ferryboats were used to cross the sixty yards of water separating the two
