Antiagon Fire (44 page)

“Thank you, Major.” Quaeryt smiled warmly. “As always.”

“My pleasure, sir, Lady Vaelora.”

When they walked off the piers and up the packed clay lane to the road, Quaeryt was pleased to see his mount, the mare that had literally carried him across Lydar from Tilbora all the way to Geusyn. She looked rested and healthy, he had to admit, as did Vaelora’s gelding.

From the road Quaeryt looked south, but the tall walls of Kephria looked no different from when he had last seen them, except that most of the trees had finally lost their leaves, leaving the few pines as the sources of green in the brush immediately north of the walls.

Three quints later they reined up outside the River Inn. Once Quaeryt had Vaelora settled—in the same chamber they’d occupied previously, doubtless due to orders from Skarpa—he hurried down to find the submarshal—in the larger plaques room, with maps spread across the circular plaques table.

Skarpa gestured to one of the seats. “I got word that you’d returned. What happened?”

“About what we expected. They’ll consider Bhayar’s terms over the winter.”

“Over the winter? The winter’s almost half gone.”

“Not really. You know that the snow in the north lasts well into Maris.” Quaeryt let a sigh escape. “They know Bhayar doesn’t want to invade Khel at the moment. They also know that in the future, if they don’t agree to terms, he will. The High Council can’t convince the people to agree unless a threat is more imminent. They feel that way, in any case.”

“And you don’t want to turn Khel into a wasteland.”

“Not really. But I’ll do what’s necessary if I have to.”
Because Bhayar won’t feel safe without a unified Lydar, and if he doesn’t feel safe, imagers won’t ever be safe, either.

“The Pharsi can be stiff-necked and then some.”

“That worries me.” Quaeryt shook his head. “What’s happening here?”

“The Khellans are right about Bhayar not being able to invade Khel.” Skarpa snorted. “Things aren’t good here, and they’re getting worse.”

“I had the feeling that you might be having trouble. That’s another reason why we returned. Because the merchanters left as soon as we off-loaded in Kherseilles, I had to leave Khaern and half of Eleventh Regiment in Kherseilles. After the
Montagne
and the
Solis
finish off-loading the half of the regiment they could bring, they’re to head back and pick up Khaern. The Khellans banished Calkoran…” Quaeryt went on to brief Skarpa on the rest of the situation, but not what happened at the Hall of the Heavens. When he finished, he waited for the submarshal’s reaction.

“So … for taking care of his men, Calkoran faces death or exile?” Skarpa shook his head. “They think Bhayar or Aliaro are going to leave them alone?”

“No … but they’ll want to haggle for a better deal.”

“That could get them a sharper blade at their throats.”

“But later,” Quaeryt pointed out. “Most people think that delays will result in matters getting better. Even the Pharsi.”

“That’s like trying to harvest fodder once the snow starts falling.”

“It sounds like the High Holders here are proving a problem.”

Skarpa snorted. “Does it snow in winter? Does too much lager turn a man into an idiot? Oh … they’ve all been very polite. Somehow, it’s never convenient for them to receive me, and when I’ve appeared with a battalion, the hold is open, and no one’s there, and the steward knows nothing, and the High Holder has all the keys, sir. What’s worse is that the roads from Geusyn are terrible. In places, they barely exist, and every hold seems perched on a rocky summit surrounded by forests that almost might be Otelyrnan jungles. It seems like that, anyway.”

“They have to have roads somewhere.”

“We came across one that was slightly better. It was headed south into the Lohan Hills.”

“It might go all the way into Antiago.” Quaeryt fingered his chin, with his left hand, again conscious of the two immobile fingers. “Perhaps we should insist on pledges of allegiance to Bhayar and payment of token tariffs. That’s what Bhayar required of the High Holders in other areas.”

“I’ve mentioned that, but they’ve ignored it. They claim I don’t have the authority.”

Abruptly Quaeryt smiled. “I think Vaelora and I might have the answers.” He eased out the leather case he’d carried all across Lydar, then extracted the credentials document. He stood and walked around the table to lay the document before Skarpa. “Read this part.”

Skarpa studied the words, then frowned and said, “You’re empowered to make anyone comply with terms of allegiance to Lord Bhayar of Telaryn. The only restriction is that whatever you do can’t limit the existing powers and authorities of Lord Bhayar…” He shook his head. “The High Holders will claim…”

“It doesn’t matter. Vaelora is Bhayar’s sister, and she has the same credentials, word for word … and you now have seven imagers.”

At that, Skarpa laughed. “So how would you recommend we proceed?”

“Send a message to the nearest High Holder, saying that a special envoy from Lord Bhayar will be visiting the hold, say at midday on Mardi, to receive the High Holder’s allegiance, and that his absence, given his reluctance to meet with Lord Bhayar’s dutifully appointed submarshal, will be regarded as proof of failure of allegiance.”

“And what will failure of allegiance result in?” asked Skarpa.

“I’m thinking the destruction of the entire hold house and outbuildings. Bovarian High Holders don’t seem all that inclined to respond to anything less than death or destruction.”

“You don’t think we should spell that out in the message?”

“No. Lord Bhayar shouldn’t have to do that. Courtesy, respect, and allegiance shouldn’t be withheld until destruction is threatened.”

“But that’s what you’re doing…”

Quaeryt shook his head. “The destruction is for failure to show respect. If it goes that far, we bring down the first hold … and send a message to the second, just like the one to the first.”

“They’ll all agree after that.”

“I’m not so certain about that. The accounts aren’t clear, but some few functionaries indicated to Bhayar’s clerks that they weren’t certain that some of the southern High Holders had paid tariffs in years.”

“With Bhayar’s crossbowmen after them?”

“They each have small armies, no roads, forests like jungles, and Kharst really didn’t have much of a governing structure away from the rivers.”

“You think that they’ve been providing a buffer between Kharst and Aliaro?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me.”
But then, the way things are going, nothing would.

“What do you think Aliaro will do? That’s the question, isn’t it?” Skarpa paused. “You’re thinking of invading Antiago, aren’t you?”

“Only if necessary, and only if it appears likely we can conquer it.”

“I wasn’t dispatched here for that, you know?”

“I know. You were ordered to deal with any threats raised by Aliaro and the southern High Holders. But … what if the only way to deal with both of those is to eliminate Aliaro?”

“Do you think it will come to that?”

“I’d be surprised if it didn’t. I’d also be surprised if Bhayar would be terribly astonished. After all, you’re no longer under Deucalon’s command, are you?”

“No. I’m to report to Lord Bhayar directly. How did you know that?”

“I didn’t. But it has to be that way if you’re to be effective. Neither Deucalon nor Myskyl wants you to be too successful, and Bhayar knows that.”

“You’re wasted as a commander, Quaeryt.”

Quaeryt shook his head. “Bhayar can’t afford to recognize a scholar and an imager in a position much higher than a commander.” After a moment he added, “And I can’t afford to be recognized, either, especially at my age.”

“You can’t keep what you are a secret.”

“Unfortunately not. But so long as I’m perceived to be under the control of and subordinate to officers like you, it will only make the High Holders and other senior officers uneasy, rather than having them unite in opposition to Bhayar and to me.” Quaeryt managed a smile. “Shall we draft a letter?”

“I suggest that we draft letters to all five of them, setting a date for meeting the second High Holder as well, and telling the others that you and Vaelora will inform me of the dates of their meetings.”

“That makes more sense,” agreed Quaeryt. “Otherwise, matters will drag out.”

“They will anyway.”

Quaeryt nodded.

46

Lundi morning, Quaeryt first met with Subcommander Alazyn in the smallest of the inn’s plaques rooms.

“What have you been doing?” asked Quaeryt as soon as Alazyn settled into the chair on the other side of the battered circular table.

“Having the companies ride patrols. It’s been quiet. Don’t think the locals have seen this many troopers ever.”

“What about the High Holders? Have you seen any of their men?”

“About a week after you left, we saw a squad of riders in gold and green. They saw us and took to a path through the woods. Haven’t seen anyone in a uniform since. Neither have any of the submarshal’s regiments, either, even when they tried to visit some of the high holdings.”

“That’s what the submarshal said. It’s likely things will change in the next week. I’ll be doing some scouting today with first company. Now … give me a report on all your battalions.”

“Yes, sir. First battalion…” Alazyn offered concise and thoughtful reports on the readiness and strength of each battalion.

When he finished, Quaeryt went to find Zhelan and to inspect first company. Then, at two quints past seventh glass, Quaeryt and the imager undercaptains, as well as first company, rode out of Geusyn with Skarpa’s scouts. Less than half a mille outside the town, the rutted road they followed to the east-southeast narrowed to a clay track barely wide enough for a single wagon or two horses abreast.

Quaeryt frowned. According to the map Skarpa had provided the nearest high holding was that of one High Holder Chaelaet, and it was some three milles east of the east river road.

“Undercaptain Horan, forward.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’d like you to clear the area on each side of the road, so that there’s ten yards beyond each shoulder. Do it in whatever way requires the least effort on your part. Begin by clearing with a stretch some twenty yards forward of us on each side.”

“Yes, sir.”

Horan concentrated.

After a moment a wave of cold air swept across the front of the column, and a thin misty fog filled the air to the east. As the light breeze carried it away, Quaeryt could see that Horan’s imaging had removed anything that had been growing taller than a few digits and dumped the refuse into a packed mass against the remaining trees, effectively creating a barrier nearly two yards high that extended almost thirty yards ahead.

“How do you feel?” asked Quaeryt.

“I could do a few more of those, sir.”

“I’ll have you alternate. That way you can do more over the day. Undercaptain Threkhyl, forward!”

Threkhyl rode forward, and as the column moved down the road, somewhat smoothed out by Horan’s imaging, Quaeryt explained what he wanted done once more. Threkhyl cleared the next fifty yards, and first company moved on. Even so, it took more than a glass to clear the first half mille, and Quaeryt ordered a short break after that.

The second half mille took a good glass and a half. To clear the shoulders and smooth road for the entire three milles and the hundred-odd yards up the side road to the rough stone pillars marking the hill lane leading up to Chaelaet’s hold took until well after second glass of the afternoon. That wouldn’t have been possible had Quaeryt not cleared several hundred-yard stretches himself.

As the weary undercaptains rested and drank from their water bottles, Quaeryt studied the area to the east. The gray-walled hold was more like a chateau fort, sitting on the top of a narrow ridge composed mainly of light gray rock that rose some fifty yards above the surrounding forest. The walls themselves didn’t seem that high, perhaps three yards, but they had been constructed at the top of a steep rocky slope a good fifty yards long that had been cleared of vegetation and soil. The hold and the outbuildings weren’t that extensive, making it possible that the other imagers might be able to flatten all the structures without assistance from Quaeryt.

Although Quaeryt couldn’t be certain, the lack of trees on the far side of the lower slopes of the ridge suggested that large expanses of fields and meadows lay to the east on the north side of the road. That made sense, because anyone from the west—and the River Laar—would have to pass the fortified hilltop to reach the more productive lands. The narrowness of the road and the closeness of the trees—before the imagers had changed that—would also have made any attackers on the hold vulnerable to continual assault. While a regimental-sized force could have survived such an attack, the casualties would have been significant in dealing with just one High Holder.

Quaeryt nodded. That was important, given that Skarpa had identified five High Holders within a day’s ride to the east, all located just north of the border with Antiago.

Zhelan eased his mount up beside Quaeryt’s mare. “The scouts have found some tracks on the road. They’re not that recent, and they’re all headed away from Geusyn.”

“Yesterday?”

“Late yesterday, most likely.”

Quaeryt nodded, his eyes still on the rocky hill and its hold.

“There’s a good half mille of narrow lane up to the lower gate, sir, and the lane to the upper gate is walled.”

“I thought it might be. That’s why I wanted the road cleared.”

“Will you have to have imagers do that for the next holding?”

Quaeryt shrugged. “I don’t know. The next nearest high holding is more than ten milles from here. I suspect we’ll have to do some clearing in dealing with other High Holders, but how much and when will depend on what happens tomorrow.”

Zhelan studied the hill hold for a time before speaking. “That hold looks like it has never been taken.”

“It probably hasn’t. Rex Kharst was a sovereign in name only in parts of Bovaria. That makes matters harder for Lord Bhayar.”