Imager’s Battalion

“Some of them weren’t too pleased with that, I’d think, not that they’d dare say a word.”

“Pleased or not, it’s likely to be that way.”

“I can see that, sir.”

“What else about the battalion?”

“We’ve got a good fifty mounts lame or nursing injuries … the ones captured will help … still looking for good spares…”

Quaeryt listened for another quint, asking occasional questions.

After Zhelan left, Quaeryt walked to the window and looked out into the misty grayness, wondering how often Bovaria was so dismal, and if the winters were damp and gray.

“Sir?” Behind him, the study door opened.

Quaeryt turned.

“Commander Skarpa and Subcommander Meinyt are riding up the drive,” offered one of the troopers from the front entrance.

“Thank you.” Quaeryt hurried from the study, down the hall, then out onto the covered portico, where he waited as the other two officers dismounted.

“Good morning, Quaeryt,” offered Skarpa as he climbed the steps to the front entry level. He removed his visor cap for a moment and shook off the rain, then replaced it on his head.

Meinyt did the same.

“Good morning, I didn’t know whether to expect you or not. Would you like to meet in the study?”

“That would be good.”

Quaeryt led the way. None of them spoke until Quaeryt closed the study door and gestured toward the plaques table.

“It was easier to come here after Deucalon’s regimental commanders’ general meeting than to arrange to meet elsewhere.” Skarpa’s voice was even as he seated himself at the table.

“Regimental commanders’ meeting?” Quaeryt sat down across from Skarpa. “Not senior officers’ meeting.”

“Interesting that no one raised that point.”

“No one,” agreed Meinyt, settling into the seat facing the window.

“Was Lord Bhayar there?”

“No. He was touring Villerive. I believe the marshal did not call the meeting until after Lord Bhayar had made plans. I understand that he told him that it was a routine staff meeting.”

Quaeryt smiled and shook his head.

“When you get that look, Quaeryt,” said Skarpa, “it worries me.”

“Do you think Bhayar doesn’t know what Deucalon and Myskyl are doing? People are always underestimating him.”

“Do you want to explain?”

“You know as well as I do,” replied Quaeryt with a laugh.

“I think I do. I don’t think Meinyt here does, and he should.”

“It’s fairly simple as politics go. By announcing a routine regimental commanders’ meeting at a time when Lord Bhayar is otherwise occupied, Deucalon is making a declaration.”

“That you’re not really a subcommander … and not to be considered as such.” Skarpa nodded. “That you’re only one because you’re a favorite of Bhayar’s. And since none of them have ever seen you fight and lead men, they’ll have no reason to dispute that.”

“Exactly,” agreed Quaeryt. “And if Bhayar changes his plans and appears at the meeting, he’s either in the position of not saying anything and tacitly accepting Deucalon and Myskyl’s unspoken declaration … or having to say something and effectively proving that I’m a favorite who needs to be protected.”

“Where does Myskyl fit in?” asked Meinyt. “I can’t see why Myskyl would do this. He’s given every indication that he doesn’t want to cross you in any way.”

“Exactly. He hasn’t. He’s setting up Deucalon for later…”

Skarpa’s mouth opened momentarily, then shut.

“This sort of maneuvering was one reason why I persuaded Bhayar to send me to Tilbor last year.” Quaeryt shrugged. “But wherever there are people seeking power and influence, it goes on.”

“You’re not going to raise this with Bhayar?” asked Skarpa.

“Not now, and never as such. If he hasn’t seen what Deucalon-Myskyl, really-is doing, and I bring it up, I seem petty. If he does see, and I suspect he does-he’s very good at seeing that sort of thing-then I don’t have to, and I don’t place him in a difficult position. Rulers don’t like being placed in difficult positions. So don’t you bring it up, either.”

“But…” Meinyt broke off what he might have said.

“It doesn’t matter right now. Bhayar needs us. He knows he needs us, and Deucalon knows he needs us. Bhayar will need us for a long time.” Longer than either Deucalon and Myskyl have any idea.

Skarpa shook his head. “Are they that stupid?”

“No. They just don’t know. Bhayar is willing to put up with this sort of petty scheming in Solis when the land is at peace because there’s no cost to it. Or not too much cost. Both he and his father never let scheming cost them golds or men. I doubt if Bhayar will now.” You hope he won’t, and that he sees what you think he does. “Also, I doubt that either Deucalon or Myskyl has seen what the imagers have learned to do. It’s one thing to get reports; it’s another to see. Frankly, right now, I’d just as soon they didn’t see.”

“But they saw the catapults…” said Meinyt.

“What did they really see? Just that the catapults ended up in flames. Sheer good fortune, that’s all. The imagers took credit for it.” At that moment, Quaeryt recalled what he had been trying to remember about catapults, except it was why the Bovarians were using catapults and muskets, but not cannon. “There’s another matter. We’ve seen musketeers and catapults, but no cannon. I can see why Kharst wouldn’t want to try to get cannon to smaller towns, but Villerive isn’t tiny.”

“Would you want to drag those monsters along these roads?” asked Skarpa. “How long would it take to get cannon from Variana?”

“Likely they couldn’t have gotten them this far, anyway,” added Meinyt.

Quaeryt nodded. He’d been thinking of the roads in Telaryn. “Now … what else should I know?”

“Our reinforcements are still two days away, and Deucalon carefully avoided mentioning any ‘special’ officers or reinforcements for Fifth Battalion. In fact, he didn’t mention Fifth Battalion at all. It will be at least a day and probably two after their arrival before we move out. If we have heavy rains…” Skarpa shrugged.

“What kind of regiments … mounted, foot, mixed?”

“Foot and mounted. We’ll be assigned one of the mounted regiments. He did make that clear. Wouldn’t make any sense to give us a foot regiment.”

“Did he say how many regiments would be arriving?” asked Quaeryt.

“He said he hadn’t had word as to how many had been sent.”

“He’s marshal, and he doesn’t know?”

“He didn’t say, and if you’ll pardon me, I didn’t feel like questioning him in front of everyone. I asked Pulaskyr afterward, but he hadn’t heard, either.”

That lack of information gave Quaeryt a most uneasy feeling, but he understood why Skarpa hadn’t pressed.

“Myskyl isn’t happy that we don’t have more archers,” volunteered Meinyt. “There are only six companies in the entire force.”

More than a regiment of archers, and he’s unhappy? But then, Quaeryt recalled that Myskyl had never appeared to be cheerful about much of anything.

“And he’s asked quietly why we don’t have musketeers,” Meinyt continued, looking to Quaeryt.

“I know Bhayar was looking into forging muskets some time ago, but I don’t know what he decided or why.”

“Would have helped if he’d done more.”