them away. The gratework fell inward and struck the polished stone floor of the narrow entry hall with a dull
With three troopers leading the way, Quaeryt made a quick inspection of the dwelling. Some of the larger and more common furnishings remained, but only those that were worn, at least what would have been considered worn for a High Holder. Everything smaller and of value had been removed-and relatively recently, from the lack of dust. After checking the hold house, Quaeryt returned to the front, mounted, and rode to the courtyard on the west side between the dwelling and the three outbuildings.
None of the three had been constructed recently, but all had rose-colored tile roofs that appeared comparatively newer than the buildings. The smallest and oldest-looking structure was of one story, square, and built of gray stones that looked to be similar, if not identical, to the paving stones in the ancient road, while the long stable and what seemed to be a warehouse were built of the same dark reddish brick as the hold house.
Inspections of the stables and the two storehouses revealed that all stores had been emptied and all livestock driven away. While Quaeryt doubted that such quantities could have been moved far, it would have taken days, if not longer, to track it down. Still, all the buildings made the hold a good point for stopping, especially since the map showed no towns or hamlets that close and since the scouts had discovered nothing better. The stone- paved road had also meant they had covered far more distance than either Skarpa or Quaeryt had thought possible.
With those thoughts in mind he rode back and met Skarpa, who had halted the column at the gates.
“Well?” asked the commander.
“It’s largely empty. No stores and no supplies, but there’s fresh water, and it would be a good place to stop.”
“Hoped it might be.” Skarpa grinned. “And there’s time to have evening services.”
“I didn’t think you’d forget that.”
Fifth Battalion led the way up the narrow lane. It was more than a glass later before all the troopers and wagons had been drawn up around the hold house, and another glass after that before men and mounts were settled. The troopers did get warm food, if hastily prepared, half a glass before sunset, and it was twilight before Skarpa announced services would begin in a quint.
Even so, more than a thousand troopers and officers were waiting when Quaeryt stepped onto the porch overlooking the west courtyard where they were gathered.
Once more he led them in the opening hymn, and then the confession.
“All evenings are good evenings under the Nameless.” He paused slightly after beginning the homily. “Even those spent riding along a stone-paved road that appears unchanging and endless while squad leaders and officers insist that it does lead somewhere, and that you really want to get there.”
At least a few chuckles murmured up from the men.
“But the more I looked at that road, and if you’re riding in front, you can occasionally see it, the more I wondered about it, because that road has been there not for years, but for hundreds of years, and it was so well built that it still rides better than most roads built since then. Who built it? Why did they build it so well? As a scholar, I can answer the first question. The Naedarans built it. Who were they? No one, including scholars, knows much about them, except that they were the first people to declare the Nameless as the creator of all and that they ruled this part of Lydar from Solis almost to Variana and as far south as the Lohan Hills that form the border with Antiago … and that they built buildings, canals, and roads that still endure.
“What does this have to do with us? More than you might think. Once they were the greatest people in Lydar and possibly in all Terahnar. Today we know little of them and none of their names. Only their works survive … Can you think of a greater testament to the futility of trying to make your name last forever? Doesn’t this suggest that the works we do will long outlast who we are and who will remember us?
“All of us are engaged together in a great work. We are working-and fighting-to unite all Lydar under the most just ruler. Is Lord Bhayar perfect? Of course not. But he is a lord who seeks justice and who does not burn his own people’s crops and send assassins after any lord or factor who has the slightest unkind word for him. He has applied the same laws to Tilborans, Piedrans, Pharsi, and imagers.” After the slightest pause, he added, self- deprecatingly, “Oh … and scholars as well.”
That brought a brief laugh.
“In a generation, even in a few years, no one will remember heroics on the battlefield, but when we succeed in building a land where the laws apply equally to all, that will be a greater legacy than any name … any reputation … for names fade, no matter what the disciples of the Namer may claim, but deeds and good works do not.”
After the closing hymn, he concluded with the simple words that approximated a benediction. “As we have come together to seek meaning and renewal, let us go forth this evening renewed in hope and in harmony with that which was, is, and ever shall be.”
Then he stepped back into the west parlor of the hold house.
Skarpa, who was waiting, shook his head. “Your words are good, but you hold them even beyond that.”
“I try not to say anything I don’t believe,” Quaeryt replied.
“That shows through.”
“That’s why I can’t say what I don’t believe.” Quaeryt smiled wryly.
54
As they rode westward on the narrow ancient stone-paved road on Lundi morning, Quaeryt noted that the road had been constructed to stay as flat as possible over long stretches and well above the flood level of the River Aluse, even when that meant detouring several milles from the river. Also, the scouts had been unable to detect any sign of Bovarian troopers. Was that because most of the Bovarians at Villerive had been on the north side of the river? There had still been hundreds on the south side who had fled and could not have crossed the river to the north. Had they all simply deserted?
Quaeryt had also initially wondered why the Bovarians had not at least tried to remove or damage the few places where there were bridges, but after studying the solid and massive ancient stone construction of the bridges, he’d smiled. It would have taken a team of engineers with dray horses and who knew what else to remove the span of even one bridge.
When Skarpa called a halt just before noon, Quaeryt mustered the imager undercaptains and put them through various drills, then drew each of them aside and gave each a specific set of imaging drills to practice on the afternoon ride-while riding.
Shaelyt was the last one, and Quaeryt gave him close to the same set of instructions he’d conveyed to Voltyr. “I want you to hold the heaviest shields you can until you can’t. Then rest for as long as you could hold the shields and start all over. When you can’t do any more, rest for a glass and start once more.”
Rather than asking for the rationale for the exercise, as Voltyr had, Shaelyt looked at Quaeryt. “Might I ask, sir, what the Bovarians might have waiting for us at Nordeau?”
Quaeryt eased back the visor cap and blotted his forehead before finally replying. “That could be anything we faced before or more, but I have to say that I’m more worried about what lies beyond Nordeau. Bovaria is a large land, and I’m guessing that all these battles are more to delay us so that Rex Kharst can gather a massive army to defend Variana-so that he can crush us there, and then march back down the Aluse and take Solis…”
“Do you think Lord Bhayar expects that?”
“Lord Bhayar has not volunteered that information, and I have not asked him. We have received almost twenty thousand troopers as reinforcements. Most have gone to northern army. He has also sent us another regiment and more imagers. It is clear that he understands we will face much more numerous Bovarian forces as we near Variana.” Quaeryt paused. “Now … I have a question for you. Exactly what did you tell Khalis and Lhandor about me and Fifth Battalion?”
