Nordruil, if less appealing and more grim in appearance. Every window was shuttered tight, and the shutter hinges were attached to large, flat, and sturdy iron plates. He nodded, dismounted, and walked up the wide stone steps of the receiving portico to the main entrance. Threkhyl accompanied him. Above the doors, cut into the limestone, was the name “Laesheld.” The outer ironwork doors themselves showed no lock on the outside, but they would not open. Quaeryt studied them for several moments, then pointed through the narrow crack where the doors joined. “Undercaptain, there’s an iron bar across the back there. If you would remove a small section.”
“Yes, sir.”
A chunk of iron clanked somewhere, and Quaeryt pulled on the outer doors. They opened, creaking slightly as they did, revealing a set of carved and weathered goldenwood doors, with elaborate polished brasswork. They also did not budge. He turned to the undercaptain and gestured.
Threkhyl concentrated, and the lock and lock plates vanished, but when he tried to open the doors, they would move neither inward nor outward. “Sir … I’ll have to image away the doors.”
“Go ahead.” Quaeryt was getting irritated, especially since he’d tried to be gentle to the High Holder’s buildings and grounds.
With a puff of dust, and a brief flow of chill air over Quaeryt and Threkhyl, the goldenwood doors vanished. Behind where they had stood was a wall, its masonry fresh, the bricks certainly laid within the past few days.
“Undercaptain Threkhyl … if you would also remove this wall, preferably without destroying the archway.”
“Yes, sir.”
Quaeryt could see that Threkhyl was showing a certain tiredness, but that was fine. If he didn’t push the undercaptain to his limits, Threkhyl’s abilities wouldn’t improve.
Just after Threkhyl had removed the wall, behind which was a dark entry hall, Zhelan called out, “Sir, the commander is riding down the lane now.”
“Thank you.” Quaeryt turned to wait for Skarpa.
In less than a fraction of a quint Skarpa rode to a point opposite the doors and reined up. He glanced back at the two companies and then at Quaeryt, clearly puzzled as to why Quaeryt was still at the entry of the hold house.
Before Skarpa could speak, Quaeryt did. “Commander, we’ve located supplies. Rather than start with the hold house, we began by going through the outbuildings. Fourth company is even now rolling barrels up from a hidden space in the main storeroom, and several imager undercaptains are searching the stables for possible hidden areas there that may contain fodder and grain. The main entry here was locked with iron doors, heavy wooden doors, and blocked with a masonry wall behind those. Undercaptain Threkhyl just finished removing the wall.”
Skarpa snorted. “We should see what lies inside that is of such worth.”
“Sir, most of the entries have held traps. I’ve had the troopers probe with planks and the like before entering.”
“Don’t let me stop you with what works,” said Skarpa dryly.
There were no traps behind the main entry door, nor elsewhere in the hold house. Some paintings had been removed, but not all, and there were no small items of value remaining. The main parlor did hold a magnificent clavecin-with an elaborately inlaid keyboard cover-and many of the pieces of furniture and carpets were of considerable value, Quaeryt suspected.
Once the regiments and companies were fed and settled into various spaces, admittedly in very cramped circumstances, and hurriedly, to avoid the late afternoon rain, Skarpa, Quaeryt, and Meinyt met in the study of the hold house. There were gaps on the shelves that held books, where volumes of worth or personal meaning to the High Holder had likely been removed-hurriedly, because the adjoining volumes were angled, and in some instances, a few books lay where they had fallen on the polished dark oak flooring.
The three sat around a square table, lit by the light coming through the windows that Quaeryt had unshuttered. From what he could tell, the rain was letting up.
“Are your men settled in?” asked Skarpa cheerfully.
“As we can. I’ve already had men injured by little traps in the outbuildings,” said Meinyt. “Wouldn’t trouble me if we burned this place to the ground when we leave.”
Skarpa smiled. “That would be a waste. We’ll just report about all the traps, and if Lord Bhayar wills, let the good High Holder see his stead go to another. Odd that there were none here in the main house.”
“Perhaps he didn’t want the place torched … or didn’t have time,” replied Quaeryt. After a moment he added, “I have noticed one other thing. All of the traps and devices were designed and set in a way not to damage the buildings themselves much.”
“Makes sense,” rejoined Meinyt. “The holder wants to be able to claim to Kharst that he took many steps to harm us, while he can say to Bhayar that he only did what was necessary to keep Kharst from taking his lands.”
Skarpa nodded. “Most of them will be like that. Those are the only kinds who’d prosper under a bastard like Kharst. Lord Bhayar’s going to have his hands full. Wouldn’t be surprised to have a battalion required to keep them in line. Likely for years.” His eyes fixed on Quaeryt.
Quaeryt ignored the implication that he and the imagers might well be employed for that kind of duty, even though he had far earlier recognized that would be another means of strengthening the position of the imagers. “The way the buildings were trapped also suggests that the holder was told that Kharst has a plan for reclaiming the lands we’ve taken.”
“That’s possible. He’ll certainly try to draw us in, and then cut us off and try to surround us. Deucalon stated that in his last dispatch. One of his scouting teams captured a dispatch rider. One of the dispatches stated that Kharst was summoning regiments from all over Bovaria, and that all growers and holders were to destroy stores and supplies rather than let them be captured. It also said that those who allowed Telaryn forces to take supplies would be guilty of treason and executed.” Skarpa shook his head. “That’s another reason why I’ve had you looking for supplies. Kharst will likely mount a solid defense, even a counterattack, when we near Villerive. He’ll need to do that, if only to purchase time to allow more regiments to arrive with additional troops and arms.”
“He didn’t expect Bhayar to attack,” suggested Quaeryt.
“He also didn’t expect to lose more than eight regiments to the last man in Ferravyl. But he’ll likely be counting on having greater numbers when we next meet.”
“He’s lost more than a regiment just to us since we’ve left Ferravyl,” pointed out Meinyt.
“If he can find a way to do it, he’ll sacrifice every farmboy and laborer in all of Bovaria to stop us,” replied Skarpa.
Quaeryt was afraid that was all too true-and that it meant that victory for Telaryn would likely be a bloody affair.
“Regardless, we need to get on with our plans for the next few days,” said Skarpa. “We’re some eight milles from Ralaes, and that’s where we’ll stage and wait for the attack on Villerive. That’s if the Bovarians haven’t dug in and set up defenses this side of the town. So far the scouts haven’t seen any sign of that kind of preparation.” Skarpa spread out a map on the table. “Here’s what I have in mind…”
Quaeryt listened intently, his eyes going from Skarpa to the map and back again, as he tried to visualize the positions and maneuvers the commander had in mind.
After two quints Skarpa rolled up the map and straightened up. “We’ll go over this again in the morning, after you’ve had a chance to think about it.” He looked at Quaeryt. “It’s stopped raining, and you still have to conduct services, Subcommander. The men are beginning to gather already. I trust you’ll be as inspirational as ever.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Skarpa rose, and so did Quaeryt and Meinyt.
When Quaeryt reached the gently sloping lawn at the back of the hold house, he was surprised to see so many troopers and officers on the slope. There must have been close to a thousand waiting. There was also no way most of them would be able to hear him.
It was worth a try.
He walked to the circular paved area that surrounded a fountain that had been drained, moving to that part of the stone paving facing the base of the slope, then turned. Concentrating on image-projecting his voice, he began with the greeting. “We gather together in the spirit of the Nameless and to affirm the quest for goodness and mercy
