There were nods, although Quaeryt suspected some of those from the imagers were perfunctory because several understood little Bovarian.
Major Calkoran immediately asked, “Can we not attack them?”
“You can, Major, but only if you can see clearly where your men will fight. You’re not to move more than half a mille from the rest of the battalion without my approval. They’ll try to draw us out and then cut off individual companies.”
“They must have more than a few companies, then.”
“Commander Skarpa believes they have almost a regiment nearby. That’s not enough men to take us all on, but enough to wipe out individual companies.”
Calkoran nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“Any other questions?” No one volunteered any, and Quaeryt had to wonder if he’d been too curt, although he certainly had attempted to be open to questions. “Then form up.”
As the other officers began to return to their companies, Quaeryt beckoned to Zhelan.
“What do you think, Zhelan? Did I leave something out?”
A slow smile crossed the major’s face. “No, sir. Not this time.”
Quaeryt managed not to wince at the gentle reminder that he had before.
“The Khellans need to be reminded that they could be outnumbered. By including all the officers, you didn’t offend their pride.” Zhelan’s smile became a grin. “They have a lot of pride.”
Quaeryt grinned back, shaking his head. “We’d better get moving.”
Even so, it was another two quints before Fifth Battalion began to move out at the head of the column, with Skarpa riding beside Quaeryt.
Once the troopers were settled into a good pace, Quaeryt turned to the commander. “You’re worried. Did the scouts see something else?”
Skarpa shook his head. “Just a feeling. Always get into trouble when I don’t trust that kind of feeling.”
Unlike on previous days, which had been hazy, the sky was crystal clear, the morning already warm and promising to become a blistering harvest day. Even the River Aluse somehow looked to be flowing more slowly, as if struggling against the warmth.
Eighth glass came and went, and so did ninth glass, and there were no hints of any possible trouble. The huts and cots of the peasants and croppers were shuttered as the southern army passed, but the scouts reported no signs of Bovarians. That just made Quaeryt more certain that something would happen. A quint or so before noon, as Fifth Battalion began to ride up a gentle rise in the road toward higher ground, from somewhere behind the battalion came a faint trumpet call-the one that meant the some company was being attacked.
“Keep a watch here, Subcommander, but keep them moving unless I send word otherwise.” With that, Skarpa galloped rearward along the shoulder of the river road.
Quaeryt immediately urged the mare to the shoulder of the road so that he could take a quick look back eastward, but he could see nothing for a good half mille, past the supply wagons. Beyond that, the road curved southward around a low rise. That the Bovarians would attack when the front of the column could not see the rear wasn’t exactly surprising.
As he watched, a wave of riders in gray-blue uniforms charged from out of a woodlot set back a good two hundred yards south of the road, aimed straight at the supply wagons, set in the middle of Third Regiment. Almost as quickly, two companies from the regiment swung from the column to cut off the attackers.
“Imagers! Fifth Battalion!” Quaeryt turned in the saddle, looking at the six undercaptains. “Third Regiment is fighting off a hit-and-run attack on the supply wagons. Fifth Regiment is being attacked from the rear. Stand ready.” He had the feeling that the Bovarians would wait for a time before attacking. He just had no idea how long, only that they’d seek a time and place to their advantage. “Major, pass it back!”
At that thought, Quaeryt glanced forward, only to see two large wagons, without a team before them, rolling down the road from the rise. The lead wagon was filled with large rocks, not quite boulders, and it was already less than a hundred yards from the outriders.
“Shaelyt! Threkhyl! Voltyr! Image the front wheels or axles off those wagons!”
Within moments, the front wheels of the lead wagon exploded away from the wagon bed, and the wagon nosed into the road. With the impact, the front end and empty seat gave way and round boulders began rolling downhill toward Fifth Battalion. The second wagon crashed into the wreckage of the first, and more boulders bounced and rolled downhill.
Because the grade was comparatively gentle, Quaeryt could see that most if not all of the large stones and small boulders would not reach Fifth Battalion, but all of the stones scattered on the road and the shoulder would certainly slow any massed charge by the Telaryn forces, unless they could get past the rubble quickly.
He glanced uphill, but saw no one, then turned to Zhelan. “Can we get past the stones quickly and re- form?”
“Yes, sir.” Zhelan turned in the saddle. “First company! Forward and re-form!”
Quaeryt kept the mare close to the major as he threaded his way through the stones, but first company was barely in position above the stones when at least one company of Bovarians charged over the crest of the hill.
“Imagers! On me! Smoke and pepper across the front ranks! Now!” Quaeryt glanced to Zhelan. “First company forward!” Then he quickly guided the mare to the river side of the road, filled with brushy ground that sloped some two hundred yards down to the river.
“First company!” ordered Zhelan. “Charge! Second company! Forward past the rocks and re-form!”
Quaeryt watched as the mist of pepper and smoke spread across the first ranks of the Bovarian riders, who had angled to the south side of the road to avoid the rocks hurled from the broken wagons. The Bovarians did not move out of formation except slightly, but Quaeryt could see that many were rubbing their eyes and a number were sneezing.
He imaged more pepper and smoke, this time farther back in the ranks, then glanced up the slope on the river side of the road, feeling that more Bovarians were headed in their direction.
In moments, another company came charging over the low crest.
“Imagers! Smoke and pepper!”
Because the shoulder and area clear of brush on the river side of the road were narrower, the Bovarians were bunched much closer together.
Quaeryt waited until the second company was less than fifty yards away, then concentrated on creating an angled stone wall no more than five yards wide and a yard and a half high, just in front of the Bovarians.
The entire front line of riders went down, and those following plowed into the mass of men and mounts.
“Third company! On the river side!” ordered Quaeryt. “Imagers, clear the way! On me!”
Even before third company finished surging past the imagers and toward the attackers, the Bovarians on the north side of the road-those who could-were withdrawing. In moments, so were the trailing Bovarians on the south side. The others were quickly surrounded by Major Zhael’s Khellans.
Quaeryt rode forward and eased his mount beside Zhael.
The major glanced at him. “They are like all Bovarians. When matters become difficult, they vanish.”
“The problem is that when they vanish like that, they survive to try again,” replied Quaeryt dryly.
“Some of these did not.”
“No, but have the captives that are healthy start clearing those boulders off the road. If any try to run away, ride them down.”
“We can do that, sir.”
“The rocks first.” Quaeryt nodded and rode back to rejoin the imagers.
“Where’d that wall come from?” demanded Threkhyl, even before Quaeryt had finished reining up.
Shaelyt glanced at Quaeryt, then at Voltyr. “Voltyr and I did it!”
“Excellent work!” added Quaeryt, although his words applied to the quick thought from the young undercaptain.
“We do what we can, Subcommander, sir,” replied Shaelyt with a quick smile that vanished immediately.
“I could do that,” announced Threkhyl.
“I’m sure you could,” replied Quaeryt. “I saw what you did in Ferravyl after the battle, but it’s also knowing when to do it.”
