“Yes, sir.”
The second time Shaelyt managed to stop the staff, although Quaeryt thought he could have pushed through if he’d used more strength. “Better. I’m going to use more force this time. Ready?”
Shaelyt nodded.
Quaeryt struck, but from the other side. Shaelyt’s shield stopped the staff, but the force knocked him back half a yard, and the Pharsi almost fell. “Much better.” Quaeryt lowered his staff. “What happened there is something else you all need to understand. Imaging shields spread the force of a blow across the whole shield. If you’re not balanced, you can stop a blow and still end up pushed from your mount and trampled or worse. Still”-Quaeryt nodded to Shaelyt-“you have the idea, and you need to build up your strength.”
“How do we do that, sir?” asked Desyrk. “Are we supposed to beat each other bruised?”
“No. You can build up strength by holding the shields as long as you can, then taking a brief rest, and doing it again and again. It’s even better if you do it while walking or riding.” Quaeryt motioned to Voltyr, ignoring the slight wince. “You’re next.”
Voltyr’s shields were more like unseen soft cheese, slowing but not completely stopping the staff. Desyrk’s effort slowed the staff, then collapsed. Baelthm was unable to mount any sort of shield. On the other hand, Threkhyl could block anything-for a few moments-but was so exhausted after three tries by Quaeryt that he was shaking and almost collapsed.
Quaeryt lowered the staff and looked at the ginger-bearded imager. “When you can raise a shield, it will likely stop almost anything, but you can’t keep doing what you’re doing and have any strength left. I’d like to suggest something else for now. What about creating momentary shields, solid ones-when you see or feel something headed in your direction-but holding them just long enough to block something. Perhaps, if you start that way, you can do it more quickly and more often without exhausting yourself.”
Threkhyl frowned, then nodded slowly. “I can do that.”
“There’s one other thing,” offered Quaeryt.
“Yes, sir?” Threkhyl’s words were cautious, his eyes wary.
“I’d like to commend you, again, on creating that stone span across the dry moat. You reacted quickly. You made taking out those musketeers much easier and allowed us to do it much more quickly. Subcommander Meinyt said it likely saved a good hundred of his troopers. I thought you ought to know.” Quaeryt smiled as warmly as he could.
Surprise flickered in Threkhyl’s eyes for an instant before he spoke. “Thank you, sir.”
“You did a good job. You should know it.” Quaeryt stepped back and surveyed the undercaptains. After his testing, he had the feeling that none of the imagers really understood how shields could and should work, and that even Shaelyt and Voltyr had little more than a vague idea.
He cleared his throat. “It’s clear that all of you think about shielding in a slightly different way. I’m going to offer some thoughts and observations that I trust will be helpful. The first is going to sound strange, but I’d like you to consider it.” He turned to Voltyr. “Undercaptain, can you walk as quickly through waist-deep water as you can out of the water?”
Voltyr looked appropriately surprised. “No, sir.”
“Why not?”
“The water gets in the way.”
“It’s thicker than air, isn’t it?”
Voltyr nodded.
“But what if you made the air-somehow-as thick as water? Then wouldn’t you have as much trouble walking right here?”
“Well … yes … I suppose.”
“That’s another way to look at shielding yourself. You’re trying to make a thin skin, if you will, of air thicker, stronger … strong enough to stop things like staffs or shafts or quarrels. Each of you may have to find your own way of doing that. For me, I’ve thought about tiny unseen hooks linking pieces of air together like armor. That may or may not work for you, but you all can see that you can create shields to protect yourselves…”
As he finished his talk, Quaeryt saw that Skarpa had been standing on the porch watching. He didn’t know how long, but it was clear the commander had seen at least some of the shield instruction and practice.
“Undercaptains.” Quaeryt waited until the five were looking at him. “That’s all the formal instruction for today. You need to practice for another half glass. After that, you’re free until the evening meal. If you leave the inn, you’re to go in pairs at least, and with your sabres. I’d also suggest you practice shields as long as you can everywhere you go.” He turned and climbed the steps to the porch.
“We should go inside,” suggested Skarpa.
Quaeryt followed the commander back to a corner of the empty public room, where the two sat.
Skarpa looked at Quaeryt. “Falossn didn’t get that much out of the assassins. That was because they didn’t know that much. There are several Bovarian companies that specialize in assassinating enemy commanders. That’s why the small crossbows. They infiltrate towns and wait. Their orders were specific. They were ordered to target those who are subcommanders and higher. Preferably higher, much higher.” Skarpa shook his head. “Another thing we’ll have to keep an eye out for.”
“They were after you because you’ve been more effective?”
“Who knows?” Skarpa smiled sardonically. “Falossn asked if they had other duties … such as dealing with those who gave Rex Kharst … difficulty. They do … but only High Holders.”
Quaeryt nodded.
“You don’t look that surprised.”
“It makes sense. You can’t train assassins in a few weeks. They knew what they were doing. It also explains the actions of some of the High Holders we’ve encountered.”
“They would have been effective here, except for you. After what happened this morning, I’ve been thinking. Then I saw your drill outside.” Skarpa gestured in the direction of the east courtyard. “You were working on something like that with your imagers, weren’t you?”
“We’ve just started on that in the last week or so. Right now … none of them can do it for long or even with enough strength to protect themselves except briefly. As I mentioned earlier today, doing that takes great strength, not to mention skill. Second, it doesn’t always work. If the imager is tired, he can’t do it. Second, most imagers can’t hold even weak shields. Some can’t at all. It’s basically a skill that might allow some of them greater personal protection so that they can do what else they need to do.”
“If they get stronger, they could protect others…”
“Then they become almost useless,” said Quaeryt. “If they even can do shielding, they can’t do things like image iron darts into musketeers. And their shields are small. If they try a larger shield, it’s good only for moments, a faction of a quint at best. If they had been far enough along to raise shields against musket attacks, you’d have lost two or three times as many troopers as you did because they wouldn’t have been able to attack the musketeers or image smoke and pepper.”
“I still don’t see why they can’t do both…”
“Why don’t your troopers carry large iron shields?” asked Quaeryt. “Large shields would certainly protect them … wouldn’t they?”
Skarpa frowned, then smiled and shook his head. “I think I see.” Then he frowned again. “But why teach them that at all?”
“So that they can survive long enough to do what is most useful for you.”
“You can do that for longer.”
Quaeryt nodded. “I have my limits, too. You’ve seen that.”
“I’ve seen you go beyond them.”
