In moments, he felt the impact on his shields, shivering him despite the anchoring. He watched as close to an entire squad piled into the unseen barrier, with horses screaming and men yelling. Flashes of light flared across his eyes, and he had to squint to see clearly.
“Time for us to go, Shaelyt.” Quaeryt turned the mare, noting that the undercaptain did so immediately as well.
Still holding the shields and the forest image, Quaeryt glanced back over his shoulder, but the Bovarians were more concerned about their casualties than in further pursuit. He dropped the image and the shield barrier, but continued to hold the small concealment shield.
They rode for several moments before Shaelyt asked, “Sir … why didn’t you image stone trees or something like that?”
“Because I not only wanted to stop them, I wanted them surprised and confused, and I’m hoping that when the survivors report back that will create doubts and concerns. If they found stone trees, they’d immediately suspect imagers. This way…” Quaeryt shrugged. “When someone can’t explain something, that’s always to our advantage.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
Quaeryt glanced back again, but the Bovarians were still not pursuing. “We need to catch up to the company before Captain Lhastyn gets too worried that he’s lost a subcommander.”
As he looked ahead, he could see that fourth squad was waiting near the top of the next rise. He found himself swaying slightly in the saddle. Clearly, he hadn’t recovered as fully as he thought he had from dealing with the musketeers.
“Sir…”
“I’ll be all right…”
As he and Shaelyt continued to ride away from the confused mass of Bovarian men and mounts, something else nagged at him, something he’d noted, something that was so obvious, yet couldn’t remember at the moment. Quaeryt shook his head, hoping it would come to him while it still mattered.
36
By the time Quaeryt and Shaelyt returned to the hamlet serving as their base, it was still slightly more than a glass before midday. Captain Lhastyn hadn’t even asked about how they had halted the pursuing Bovarians … and that bothered Quaeryt in a different way.
Quaeryt reined up just short of the tie line that held the other imagers’ mounts, then dismounted, rather gingerly, and unsaddled the mare. Then he turned to Shaelyt.
“If you’d give Voltyr a hand … I’m going to meet with Commander Skarpa.”
“Yes, sir.”
Quaeryt nodded, then walked back to the cot where Skarpa was talking to Captain Lhastyn and asking questions about the sketches the captain was explaining. He eased up the steps and onto the covered porch, but stood back and let the captain continue his explanations.
“… could hold more than four regiments … sent a battalion of cavalry after us … Subcommander Quaeryt’s imager was able to create a diversion that halted them … suggests that they also have a large number of cavalry companies…”
After a time Skarpa nodded. “Thank you, Captain. I’ll keep those sketches. I do appreciate the detail you’ve provided.” He rose from the table.
Lhastyn also rose and nodded. “If that will be all, sir…?”
“For now. After I discuss matters with the subcommanders, I’ll let you know what else we need to find out.” As Lhastyn left the porch, Skarpa motioned for Quaeryt to take one of the two stools, then seated himself again.
Quaeryt sat, wishing the stool was neither so low nor so hard, given the bruises on his body and his general stiffness and soreness.
“I’ve gone over what Lhastyn saw and sketched.” Skarpa raised his eyebrows questioningly. “You heard the last of it.”
Quaeryt nodded. He really didn’t know exactly what to say.
“Go on,” prodded the commander.
“I’d guess that they have more troopers around Ralaes than we anticipated.”
“Because they came after you so quickly?”
“Because they chased us so quickly and in such numbers.”
“That would be my first guess.” Skarpa smiled crookedly. “Then again, that could be exactly what they want us to think. Lhastyn didn’t see that many troops in all those revetments. It was almost as though they didn’t want you to see that.”
“They might have sent that battalion out to buy time.”
“That’s possible.”
“Still … the musketeers were in a great hurry to return,” mused Quaeryt.
“Maybe we should keep testing them for a day or so. What do you think?”
“Do you know where Marshal Deucalon’s forces are?”
“Just about opposite Caernyn, I’d judge.”
“Three days before they get to a point across the river from us?”
“More like four, unless Deucalon moves faster.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to spend this afternoon or tomorrow testing, then.”
“We’ll start early tomorrow. We’ll have more sentries out tonight, and several companies waiting.” Skarpa paused. “What exactly did you and the undercaptain do to stop that battalion?”
“Used the road, the forest, and imaging to block them and create a mess…” Quaeryt went on to explain in more detail, although he was a bit vague about who had done what.
“You still don’t like to admit what you do,” observed Skarpa when Quaeryt finished.
“No … and I still think it’s better that way.”
The commander nodded. “Have to say you’re probably right. We’ll try to test them tomorrow without imagers.”
Quaeryt looked directly at Skarpa.
“You’re still moving as if you hurt, and I’d rather have you in better health when we actually have to take the town. Go deal with your imagers.” Skarpa gestured.
Quaeryt couldn’t argue with Skarpa’s observation. He smiled and stood.
“See me early tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.” Quaeryt turned and headed down the steps.
When he reached the cot where the imagers were staying, he saw Threkhyl sitting on the shaded side of the steps to the small cot. The undercaptain’s face was pale, and his thinning ginger hair was soaked with sweat. Voltyr stood at the foot of the steps, a concerned expression on his face. Shaelyt, Desyrk, and Baelthm stood on the narrow porch.
“What happened?” asked Quaeryt.
“I was trying to give Threkhyl instructions on shields,” explained Voltyr. “He created one … and then…”
“Better than anything you could do,” muttered Threkhyl in a voice that might have been belligerent had it been louder, rather than low and raspy.
“Then what?” Quaeryt asked Voltyr.
