Imager’s Battalion

“We’re glad to have you. The things your men have done have made matters easier for us.”

“That’s the idea.” Even if sometimes they don’t work out as they should.

As Quaeryt rode beside Captain Lhastyn, within a few hundred yards of leaving the hamlet, he could see that the ground to the south of the river road was getting lower with each yard he rode so that after less than a mille the fields and tended groves had given way to a dense forest so thick that even in the bright morning sunlight, the shadows beneath the trees resembled twilight. The forest appeared to Quaeryt as a jungle with massive live oaks forming a high canopy over smaller trees between and beneath. Thorn vines and thick underbrush formed an intertwined barrier, totally unsuited to any form of mounted advance.

Quaeryt could hear various birdcalls, if muted, from the forest, suggesting a lack of human activity within the green walls, and neither he nor Lhastyn’s scouts, riding along the edge of the forest, could see any footprints or hoofprints coming to or from the woods, although there were more than a few hoofprints on the road itself.

“They’ve had their scouts out,” observed Lhastyn.

“Just as we have,” replied Quaeryt.

Before long, one of the outriders turned his mount and rode back to report, easing his mount in beside Lhastyn. “Sir, once you get to the middle of the flat there, you can see pretty much the whole approach. They can see you as well, because there’s no cover, except on the south side, real close to the trees.”

Lhastyn looked to Quaeryt.

“Why don’t you and I ride up on the south shoulder and take a look?” suggested Quaeryt. “Even if they see two riders, they likely won’t send anyone out. If they do, they’ll send fewer than if they saw an entire company.”

Lhastyn nodded slowly, almost doubtfully.

“Undercaptain Shaelyt is most adept with smoke, pepper, and iron darts, if necessary,” Quaeryt added, urging the mare forward, if gently.

Lhastyn turned in the saddle. “Heorot … you know what to do if you’re attacked.”

“Yes, sir.”

Quaeryt didn’t say anything more, but strengthened his shields as he edged the mare as close as he could to the woods while still leaving a clear path forward. He could sense the captain’s unease and almost smiled. He did listen for the telltale rustle of leaves or branches, but heard none, only the breathing of the two horses, and the whisper of their legs swishing through the grass that grew between the road’s shoulder and the trees. As soon as Quaeryt could make out the entire scope of the approach to the town, he reined up.

At first glance the Bovarian emplacements and revetments appeared almost randomly placed across the wide and low slope that led up to the town. On closer study, Quaeryt realized that they had been placed to block the more gradual approaches. Two of the larger revetments flanked the river road, leaving only the width of the road open.

The revetments had also been created hurriedly, since all were earthworks. That suggested that the Bovarians had decided recently to make a stand at Ralaes. In order to slow or halt us so that they can deploy more troops against our northern forces? He also couldn’t tell whether the defenders had catapults for Antiagon Fire, but he had no doubts that there were archers behind at least some of those earthworks.

“They have enough trenches there to protect three or four regiments,” observed Lhastyn, looking up from the paper on which he was sketching out the positions of the revetments.

“If all of them contain troopers,” said Quaeryt, “then they might have even more, if they hold their reserves over the crest of the hill.”

“They’ll keep their mounted forces back.”

“That’s another question. How many mounted battalions do they have? According to what I’ve studied and what the marshal has conveyed to Commander Skarpa, the Bovarians have far more foot soldiers, as many as half their forces, if not more. I wouldn’t be surprised if they lost a great portion of their cavalry at Ferravyl.”

“All those foot types seem odd to me,” murmured Lhastyn.

“We’re the odd ones,” replied Quaeryt. “Most rulers have armies with far greater proportions of foot troopers. It’s less costly, and the logistics are simpler.” He wasn’t about to explain the circumstances of history and geography that had led to the Telaryn reliance on mounted troops.

For the next half quint, Lhastyn sketched and Quaeryt studied. Then, Quaeryt noted some flag waving, and before long a trooper hurried from a trench partway up the slope and began to run uphill across the grass that bore a myriad of recent gouges.

“I think we, or the company, have been noticed,” said Quaeryt.

“We’ll see if they send someone down to chase us off,” said Lhastyn cheerfully.

“What are your orders in that event?” asked Quaeryt.

“To get as much information as possible and to avoid unnecessary losses.”

“Have you finished sketching things out?”

“I’m close.”

“As soon as you finish, it might be a good idea for us to withdraw.” Quaeryt glanced at the Bovarian defenses again.

“I won’t be that long.” Lhastyn kept sketching. “I want to get this right.”

Before that long, while Lhastyn was still sketching, Quaeryt heard a sound like drumming, but lower. “Horses! That sounds like more than a company.”

“Time for us to go.” Lhastyn folded his papers and slipped them inside his tunic, then turned his mount.

Quaeryt glanced back as they rode toward third company. So did Lhastyn. The column of riders pouring over the rise in the road above and to the north of the revetments looked to be far more than a company, possibly even a battalion.

“You lead the company back,” said Quaeryt. “Undercaptain Shaelyt and I will ride with the rear.”

“Sir?”

“We can create some delays.”

“But, sir-”

“Go!” snapped Quaeryt. “Now!” As he neared Shaelyt, he angled the mare so that he was riding almost stirrup to stirrup with the undercaptain. “We have a job to do.”

“Yes, sir.”

“When we get just past the narrow part of the road up ahead at the end of the flat, when it starts to rise, we’re going to stop for a moment. I want you to image smoke across the road where it’s the narrowest. It doesn’t have to be acrid, but make it as thick as you can.”

“Yes, sir. Won’t they ride through it?”

“I’m certain that they will.”

After they passed the narrow point at the bottom of the slope heading eastward to the Telaryn encampment and had ridden another fifty yards or so, Quaeryt reined up and turned the mare. As he did so, he raised a concealment shield to cover just him and Shaelyt. “Wait. Don’t image the smoke until I tell you to, and if you can, I’d like you to image it as if it were a fog drifting out of the forest.”

“Yes, sir. I think I can do that.”

Quaeryt continued to watch as the Bovarian column thundered toward them.

“They don’t see us, do they?” asked Shaelyt.

“No. It’s another kind of shield.”

When the Bovarians were roughly a hundred yards from the narrow spot in the road, Quaeryt said, “Start imaging now.”

Shaelyt’s smoky fog appeared and began to drift quickly across the road, but the pursuing Bovarians did not slow down. Quaeryt hadn’t thought they would, not when they could see third company riding up the long slope, with no other forces around.

Quaeryt waited until the Bovarians were almost upon the smoke, then concentrated, first on creating an image of the forest stretching across the road behind the thick smoke that Shaelyt had imaged across, and then building a solid shield across the road and the shoulder, from the edge of the forest on the south to the heavier chest-high undergrowth on the north side of the river road. He anchored the shields to the ground itself and waited.