Antiagon Fire (21 page)

“Yes, sir.” The armsman inclined his head. “I will convey your terms to High Holder Delauck.” He turned and strode back across the stone bridge.

“He didn’t look happy,” observed Zhelan.

“No, but these High Holders need to respect Lord Bhayar, without qualifications and without hesitation,” replied Vaelora.

“And since they only respect force applied directly to them and their property, we must show we can apply such force.” Quaeryt’s voice was dry.

Almost half a quint passed before a group of men walked through the remnants of the walled garden and toward the stone bridge. An angular black-haired figure, wearing black trousers and a crimson shirt, with an open black jacket, was trailed by ten armsmen, their blades unsheathed and held at the ready. The man leading the others stopped at the far side of the bridge. “Since I cannot stop you, I suppose I must invite you in, whoever you are.”

Quaeryt sighed. “Zhelan, Voltyr, follow me. If you would remain here, Lady, I would appreciate it. Undercaptain Ghaelyn, when I beckon, if you would have a squad escort Lady Vaelora across to join me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vaelora offered a smile, slightly sad and knowing.

Quaeryt rode across the fifteen yards of the span, halting several yards short of the man in black. “Quaeryt Rytersyn, commander in the forces of Lord Bhayar, and protector of Lady Valelora.”

“Delauck D’Alte. High Holder of Lauckan.” The holder looked squarely at Quaeryt.

“The Lady Vaelora wishes to accept your allegiance to her brother Lord Bhayar of Telaryn.”

“For someone who is entreating my allegiance—”

“I don’t think you understand, Delauck. She is not entreating. She is allowing you to offer that allegiance. You invite her in and pledge complete allegiance to Lord Bhayar.”

Delauck glanced at the stone span and then back to Quaeryt. “Your imager is rather accomplished.”

“Imagers. Lord Bhayar has a number of imagers.” Quaeryt smiled. “You will find the road to your hold much improved and strengthened. Call it a token of goodwill.”

“The goodwill of making my hold easier to take.”

“Oh … no. Any who attempt to take your hold will find that they lose everything, beginning with their lives. Excepting Lord Bhayar, of course.”

“Northern Bovaria is a rugged land, Commander.”

“Not nearly so rugged as the lands of Montagne, where Lord Bhayar was raised. You might consider that Rex Kharst sent close to sixty regiments against the forces of Telaryn. Something like fifty-eight perished to the last man. Lord Bhayar lost at most four regiments.”

“You leveled my towers and killed two score or more of my men … and I’m supposed to be grateful and plead allegiance?”

“Yes.” Quaeryt looked beyond Delauck, concentrating as he imaged away ten lifted blades. “Behold your armsmen.”

Delauck turned, then looked back at Quaeryt. He started to speak.

“Say nothing you will regret.” Quaeryt image-projected both authority and sadness with the words.

The holder paled, but only momentarily.

Quaeryt could see the rage held in check, but he raised his hand, and waited as a squad escorted Vaelora forward.

“My lady,” offered Quaeryt, “might I present Delauck D’Alte, High Holder of Lauckan?”

“You might indeed.” Vaelora smiled politely, looking down at the black-haired Delauck. “I look forward to seeing your hold house.”

Delauck hesitated only for an instant. “I am pleased that you would like to see it. If I might show you…”

“A moment,” Quaeryt said. “Major … Undercaptain Voltyr … should any force or unfriendliness be directed at you, begin to remove buildings around the hold until those directing such force desist. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Quaeryt turned to Delauck. “Is that clear to you, Holder Delauck?”

“Yes. I do not have to like it, but I understand.”

Quaeryt shook his head. “You only think you understand, but that will suffice for now. Please show us your hold.”

“You have no fear of entering my domain?” Delauck’s voice held a trace of ironic mocking.

“My only fear, dear holder,” replied Quaeryt, “is that I will be forced to destroy you and bring down the entire hold.”

For an instant Delauck said nothing. “Why don’t you do it and get it over with?”

“Because the Lady Vaelora would prefer that we do not wreak unnecessary damage on holds, and also because I’d have to seek out another High Holder and do the same with him, and since you’re the closest to Laaryn, I’d prefer not to waste time in escorting Lady Vaelora to Khel. But she can tell you about that in due time.”

“Of course…” Delauck turned.

Quaeryt, Vaelora, and the escort squad followed the holder and his men over the bare stone that remained where the towers and entry courtyard had been and then along a path through the remaining section of the walled garden. Once they reached the entry to the stone keep, for it was a keep, rather than a hold house, Quaeryt immediately dismounted and offered a hand to Vaelora, making certain that his shields enfolded Vaelora.

Delauck stood on the stone stoop and gestured toward the open ironbound door. “I suppose I must bid you welcome, not that I have much choice.”

“We appreciate your welcome,” replied Vaelora, her voice containing only grace and not the slightest hint of irony or condescension.

Although he should have followed both Vaelora and Delauck, Quaeryt eased into the narrow entry hall behind Vaelora and before Delauck, in order to make certain she remained shielded. As if she understood, and she doubtless did, reflected Quaeryt, once inside Vaelora stepped to the side to face Delauck, as if waiting for him to conduct her to the parlor or great hall.

“If you would show the way,” she said.

“My pleasure,” Delauck replied, not quite curtly.

Beyond the narrow entry hall was a larger square hall, and from there Delauck turned to the left, striding down the bare stone corridor to the first archway on the right, where he halted and gestured for them to enter. Quaeryt followed Vaelora into a chamber with a hearth at the far end, but with large windows overlooking another walled garden, one in which there remained some fall flowers. Standing beside the hearth was a gray-haired woman.

“Lady Vaelora, Commander, my mother, Aenitra D’Alte. I trust you will pardon me, but my wife is recovering from a difficult time…”

“I am sorry to hear that.” Vaelora’s voice was warm, with the slight huskiness that Quaeryt loved to hear.

“She almost died,” said Aenitra, easing forward and stopping so as to place a settee between her and Vaelora. “I fear my son did not have a chance to inform me of what you are, Lady.”

“She is Lady Vaelora Chayardyr of Telaryn,” offered Quaeryt, “sister to Lord Bhayar and his envoy to the High Council of Khel. While on her way, and stopping at Laaryn, she heard of Lauckan and decided to travel here to receive High Holder Delauck’s allegiance to Lord Bhayar. Given the rather treacherous approach to the holding and the unsafe nature of the drawbridge, she ordered that you receive a much safer and more secure way to your holding.”

“I am certain it is, from what I have seen of the stone bridge you created,” said Delauck, his voice flat, “but it was never intended to be either.”

“We know. That would suggest that you were not a favorite of Rex Kharst.”

“We’ve never been fond of any rulers.”

“I suggest that you will find Lord Bhayar far more fair in his judgment of High Holders,” said Quaeryt. “Some holders, of course, do not appreciate fairness, but they also do not appreciate life.”

The gray-haired woman’s eyes focused on Quaeryt. “Might I ask you, sir, why you, only of those here, paint your nails?”

“You might. I don’t paint them. They are like that.”

“Your face is young, but your hair is white. Is all your hair white?”

By way of an answer, Quaeryt eased back his left sleeve.

“What is all that—” began the holder.

“Delauck…” said the older woman, “swear whatever allegiance they require and mean it. If you want your hold and your family to remain.”

The holder turned. “You’ve never presumed…”

“Swear it. You don’t want to anger a hand of Erion.”

“A hand—”

“Who else brought down your mighty towers and walls and created a bridge across the gorge in instants? Don’t be an idiot.” She turned back to Quaeryt. “Are you a hand of Erion or the lost one?”

“I have no idea. I’ve been called both.”

“Who are you, truly?” asked Delauck.

“As I said, Quaeryt Rytersyn, commander for Lord Bhayar, and husband of Lady Vaelora.”

“Yet she is the envoy?” Delauck’s face screwed up in puzzlement.

“She is indeed.” To Quaeryt, the scene in the parlor was getting more surreal by the moment.

“If you will pardon me,” said Aenitra, “it might be best if I explained to my son.” She turned. “Lord Bhayar holds Pharsi blood in his lineage. You can see it in the Lady Vaelora. The commander bears the traits of a lost one of the Pharsi, with the white hair of Erion and the dark eyes. He also limps slightly. The Pharsi High Councils have always been headed by women. Lord Bhayar clearly knows this, and has sent his sister to treat with them. The commander is more than a commander, and he and his men are here to make a point—that Bhayar will tolerate none of this feuding foolishness that has gone on … and more, I suspect.” She turned back to Quaeryt. “Is this not so?”

“You are most perceptive, Lady Aenitra,” replied Quaeryt. “Lord Bhayar intends that the laws will apply to all, and to that end, for the time being, a regiment will be stationed in Laaryn.”

Delauck frowned slightly. “You did not bring a regiment here.”

“No. We judged two companies to be sufficient. Were they not? But Lady Vaelora is being escorted by my command of two regiments and the Southern Army of seven regiments. The one to remain in Laaryn will be Fifth Regiment.”

“What do you require of me?”

“Your statement that you will be loyal to Lord Bhayar and that you will not engage in any hostilities against him, his forces, or any other High Holders or groups, such as factors.”

“That … I can pledge … and I do so.”

Vaelora smiled. “I accept your allegiance on behalf of Lord Bhayar.”

“You don’t require some oath on paper?” Delauck’s voice was almost light.

Quaeryt looked to Vaelora.

She smiled at Delauck. “Only the words written in the heart count. Paper burns in an instant. You agreed to be loyal to Lord Bhayar. So long as you are, he will support you. If you are not, you have seen what can happen.”

Aenitra nodded.

“Will you stay for refreshments?” asked Delauck.

“Much as Lady Vaelora would enjoy such,” replied Quaeryt, “her time here is limited, and she needs must return to Laaryn to deal with other matters before dark.”
Besides which, imaging isn’t proof against poison and other less obvious treacheries.

“We have caused you much concern,” added Vaelora, “but I do trust that the unpleasantnesses of the day will be the last, and that at some time, when matters are settled, we will see you in Variana.” She smiled warmly.

Behind Delauck, his mother nodded ever so slightly, before saying, “We will see you out and wish you a fruitful journey.”

“Thank you,” replied Vaelora. “We wish you and your mother well, and your lady a quick return to health.”

“I appreciate your thoughts,” replied Delauck.

Quaeryt
thought
the High Holder was resigned to the change in his position, but he remained close to Vaelora all the way out of the keep and until they were mounted and across the bridge and on their way down the improved lane.

“You were worried about poisoning and the like, weren’t you?” Vaelora asked as the hold disappeared behind them.

“I don’t think he would have,” replied Quaeryt, “but I couldn’t be certain. That was a risk you didn’t have to take.”

“What about you?”

“I worried more about you.”

“Bhayar said—”

“I know, but…”

“Dearest.”

“Yes, dear one,” Quaeryt said quietly.

Vaelora laughed. After a moment so did Quaeryt—even as he hoped that word of the visit to Lauckan would spread, and that they would only have to make a few more such visits to High Holders in the weeks ahead as they headed downriver from Laaryn.
If there are even any holdings close to the river.

18

All in all, it wasn’t until Meredi morning that Southern Army and Quaeryt’s regiments pulled out of Laaryn, heading down the River Laar toward Ephra. While the factors of Laaryn had provided more flatboats, they were only used for supplies, and the troopers were forced to ride—or march, in the case of Skarpa’s two regiments of foot—along a very rough road on the east side of the river.

There had been one sad reminder that no matter how hard Quaeryt and Vaelora tried, sometimes there was no remedy for some ills. The small blond girl, about whom Vaelora had worried, had slipped out of the inn on Mardi night and thrown herself in the river. One of the squads riding patrols had seen her running toward the water, but hadn’t been able to reach her before the current pulled her into deep water, where she vanished in the darkness. The other girls hadn’t heard her leave.

The better side was that Vaelora had found families willing to help the other three, and had persuaded Meinyt to have an officer follow up to make certain they had kept their word. Even thinking about what he had found left Quaeryt discouraged, especially since he doubted that the situation was all that rare in Bovaria, perhaps even in Telaryn.

By Samedi noon, the Telaryn forces had weathered a chilling rainstorm that had halted their progress on Vendrei for several glasses, gusty fall winds, and two broken axles on supply wagons. They had covered close to a hundred milles, passing through hamlet after hamlet. Quaeryt and Vaelora also discovered that Kharst’s comparatively narrow and flat-bottomed canal boat rolled considerably even in the gentler waters of the River Laar and that the rudder was too small for quick response. In the end, Quaeryt ordered the canal boat lashed to a flatboat, and he and Vaelora rode with the troopers—although Quaeryt had to admit he did enjoy sleeping comfortably at night.