“So far…” Quaeryt paused as more Telaryn troopers rode up the curved street that had to have come from the southwest gate, but they halted where the two streets merged, then reversed position and held. On the other street, the Khellan companies had largely stopped fighting, having either destroyed or routed the Bovarians they had encountered.
Quaeryt turned to Zhelan, who had eased his mount closer. “I need to see how the imager undercaptains are doing. I’m going to ride down to Fifth Regiment.”
“If you plan to go farther, sir, I’d recommend a squad going with you.”
“If I do, I’ll send for one, or take one from their companies.” Quaeryt edged his mount down along the side of the stone wall of the bridge approach until he reached the more open space near the last squad of first company. From there he could see Shaelyt and the two younger Pharsi undercaptains, one of whom was leaning over in his saddle and retching. Shaelyt was bent forward, his head almost resting on the neck of his mount.
“Undercaptain Shaelyt,” called Quaeryt.
Shaelyt straightened and turned in Quaeryt’s general direction, but it was clear that he did not see his subcommander. “Sir?”
Quaeryt rode closer. “I’m here. You’re having trouble seeing?”
That brought a nod, and a swallow, as if Shaelyt were trying not to retch. Both Khalis and Lhandor stiffened, but did not speak. Khalis was pale, but he’d been the one retching, Quaeryt realized. Lhandor was slightly wan, but looked composed, as if exhausted, but not nauseated.
“Did you get the gates down? Any luck with the ramp?”
“The gates … yes. We couldn’t manage a ramp, but … Fifth Regiment didn’t have a problem following us through the gates. There was … were … two companies … frozen … but another company of pikemen … we managed to hold shields enough to scatter the front lines … After that the troopers took over…” Shaelyt swallowed again.
“You’re not doing any more imaging today,” said Quaeryt.
“No, sir … can’t see, except in flashes…”
“And your head throbs like someone’s beating it like an anvil or jabbing it with spears?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What about you two?” Quaeryt looked to Lhandor.
“I don’t think I could image a copper, sir.”
“What did you image on the attack?”
“I can’t do shields, not properly. I imaged iron darts into some archers who were taking aim on us and Captain Kharaf. So did Khalis.”
“Are you feeling better, Khalis?” asked Quaeryt.
“Some, sir…” The young undercaptain swallowed.
“All of you, sip from your water bottles until you can swallow. Then eat some of those biscuits I insisted you bring. Yes … I know they’re like bricks, but gnaw on them as you can. It will help.”
“Yes, sir.”
Quaeryt stood in the stirrups, trying to look farther south to see Meinyt and the rest of Fifth Regiment. While he could discern troopers who were likely from Fifth Regiment, he couldn’t make out Meinyt. He dropped back down into the saddle. “Undercaptains, we’ll return to first company.” He turned the mare and rode up the gradual stone- paved approach to the bridge, reining up at the rear of the troopers and turning the mare so that he could see whoever might be approaching.
The other undercaptains were supposed to rejoin Fifth Battalion as they could, but so far there was no sign of those who’d been with Eleventh Regiment and Third Regiment. Quaeryt blotted the sweat off his forehead, sweat he hadn’t even realized was there until it oozed into the corner of his eyes and delivered a salty sting.
To the south he saw the Fifth Regiment troopers ease to one side of the street and allow the Khellan companies to ride to rejoin first company. As Major Calkoran neared, Quaeryt didn’t see any empty saddles, and second company looked to be close to full strength. Quaeryt did see blood splatters and streaks on the sleeves of many of the troopers.
Zhelan rode forward and spoke to Calkoran, then continued onward to get reports from Zhael and then Arion before he rode back to Quaeryt.
“Sir, reporting on Fifth Battalion.”
“Go ahead, Major.”
“First company, two dead, fifteen wounded. Second company, four dead, five wounded. Third company, three dead, six wounded. Fourth company, three wounded. That does not count the undercaptains assigned to other regiments.”
“Thank you.”
A squad leader wearing a green and red armband edged his mount along the side of the bridge approach toward Quaeryt and finally reined up facing him. “Subcommander, sir, the commander asks that Fifth Battalion continue to hold the bridge and prepare for an attack on the isle fort and beyond.”
“Tell Commander Skarpa that we hold the bridge but that an immediate attack on the isle fort is not physically possible. The Bovarians retracted the bridge before we could reach it.” Quaeryt gestured toward the open space beyond the bridge approach.
“Yes, sir.” The squad leader nodded, then turned his mount and rode back down the bridge approach and then onto the street that led to the southeastern gate.
Quaeryt eased out the water bottle and took a longer swallow, before fumbling out a biscuit and slowly chewing on it.
Before all that long, the troopers now in formation on the streets and the approach to the bridge made way for Skarpa, flanked by Khaern and Meinyt. Behind them rode the remaining imager undercaptains-Threkhyl, Horan, Desyrk, Voltyr, and Smaethyl. All five were sweat-drenched and pale.
Quaeryt eased the mare forward to meet the senior officers, then halted, as did the other three.
The imagers made their way past, and Quaeryt could see that Voltyr’s eyes were twitching. Horan was almost leaning on his mount’s neck. Quaeryt looked at Skarpa.
“I got your message, Subcommander. How did that happen?”
“We broke through the gates, and I led first company straight to the bridge. We didn’t hesitate at all. They were retracting the bridge before we were even close to it. They left some of their own men on this side rather than letting us even get close.”
“Figures.” Skarpa snorted.
“How did the imager undercaptains do?” asked Quaeryt.
Skarpa nodded to Khaern.
“They got us a narrow ramp, and one most of the way down inside the walls. We got some cover from the arrows, but we were on our own inside the walls. Not too bad. We lost maybe fifty troopers, and another hundred wounded.”
Meinyt cleared his throat. “They kept the arrows off us, but we had to follow them through the gates. They couldn’t do much once we were inside. Didn’t have to, though. They killed a good company of defenders near the gates. Froze some and got a bunch with iron darts.”
“The two you sent with me did the ramp all right,” said Skarpa. “Broad and wide. Even cut away a yard of the top of the walls and some buildings on the other side.”
“But?” asked Quaeryt, sensing Skarpa wasn’t totally pleased.
“They couldn’t do anything after that. The newer one could barely ride. We lost almost a hundred troopers to archers.”
“I was afraid of that. I gave you the ones I knew could give you the best access, but they’re not that good with stopping arrows.”
Skarpa laughed roughly. “Better than I thought. Anytime you can take a walled city without siege gear and only lose a few hundred men … Have to say I was worried, but we took most of the casualties on the ride to and up the ramp. Almost nothing after that.”
