Antiagon Fire (49 page)

“May?” asked Threkhyl.

“If it appears that the Bovarian High Holders won’t pledge allegiance and intend to remain in Antiago, the only way to secure the border will likely require our taking Kephria. The submarshal is considering that possibility. He wanted to know if we could open the wall. That’s why we’re here.”

“We can do it, sir,” replied Threkhyl. “We’ve done more than that.”

“I know you can, but I’d like you to do it with the least effort possible. When we first encountered earthworks, you asked if you could just move the earth, and it turned out that was less effort. I thought that you might be able to do the same with the stone.”

“You mean just pile it aside somewhere?”

“Actually,” said Quaeryt with a smile, “you all have noticed how poor the roads happen to be here. I was thinking that we might just turn the wall into a stone-paved way right through Kephria…”

A wide grin crossed the face of Khalis, the youngest undercaptain.

Threkhyl frowned, then nodded. “Yes, sir. It’d be easier that way.”

“If we remove part of the wall, sir,” asked Voltyr, “how wide an opening do you want?”

“We’ll start with a hundred yards, and then see what’s on the other side.”

“What about the Antiagons?” asked Horan.

“We won’t be leading the assault, but we’ll try to avoid hurting people who aren’t troopers.”

Quaeryt answered questions for a time after that, then filled the other imagers in on what he knew about Antiago and the Autarch, including the way Aliaro had dealt with Bhayar’s sister Chaerila. After almost a glass, when Maasn’s squad rode back and reined up, Quaeryt urged the mare forward to talk to the squad leader.

“What did you find out?” asked Quaeryt.

“There’s nothing different there, sir. Just trees and the wall. We didn’t see any gaps, no tunnels, and no gates. There aren’t any embrasures in the wall, either.”

“Did you see any sentries?”

“No, sir. There are small towers every fifth of a mille. Sentries might be inside, I’d guess. No way to measure exactly, but there are six from here to the end of the wall. That doesn’t count the one there at the corner.”

“How thick is the undergrowth?”

“It runs right up to the stone. Trees have been cut back now and again, looks like, for maybe twenty yards back from the wall.”

So they won’t overtop the wall itself.

Quaeryt asked questions for almost another quint, but learned little more. Finally, he ordered the group back to Geusyn. He reined up in the courtyard of the River Inn at two quints past the first glass of the afternoon, but had to wait until almost second glass before Skarpa returned and they met in the large plaques room.

“What did you find out?” asked Skarpa.

“It’s a big wall.” Quaeryt smiled sardonically. “It’s a waste of good stone. Kharst and Aliaro could have paved a road for milles with all that stone and split the tariffs from Kephria. They both would have come out ahead, and Kharst and his sire wouldn’t have had to pour golds into that swamp they call Ephra.”

Skarpa frowned. “You’re thinking of paving…? Oh … Do you think that will work?”

“Voltyr suggested it, in a way. It can’t hurt to try.”

“I’ve set a meeting with the regimental commanders for third glass. They should know,” said Skarpa. “They can keep it to themselves. Especially if you point out to them that if word leaks out, hundreds more troopers and officers might die.”

“I worry about that … but you’re right.” Quaeryt paused. “Have you received any dispatches from Bhayar or Deucalon?”

“One. Just before you returned from Khel. From Deucalon, requesting that I keep him informed of our progress. I sent back a brief missive that said we were progressing as expected and that you had not returned from Khel.”

“You’re under Bhayar’s direct command…”

“There’s no point in upsetting a marshal when you don’t have to,” said Skarpa mildly.

“You’re right.”
And Deucalon can get upset about such things easily.

“There’s one other matter,” said Skarpa. “We’ve never discussed battlefield succession…”

Quaeryt looked at Skarpa. “You’re in command. Why are you bringing that up now? Are you worried about something we haven’t talked about?”

“Anytime you fight, you can run into trouble. Everyone knows that, if something happens to me—it could, you know—then you’re in command.”

“And if something happens to us both, Kharllon is next in line.”

“And after him?”

“If it comes to that … it’s not our problem,” Quaeryt rejoined dryly.

“That may be. But, just because we’ve never talked about it, the seniority is, in order, Paedn, Dulaek, Meurn, Fhaen, and Fhaasn.” Skarpa nodded firmly. “We’ll just tell them we’re going to attack Kephria and why. Then we’ll explain the plan…”

Quaeryt listened, occasionally making suggestions.

After he and Skarpa finished going over the agenda for the meeting with the regimental commanders at third glass, Quaeryt retreated to his and Vaelora’s room, where she was seated at the desk, writing.

“You’re back?” she asked, looking up.

“For a few quints, until we meet with the regimental commanders. Who are you writing?”

“Aelina. It’s been a while. Don’t worry. I’m not saying anything except where we are, and that can’t be any secret.” She paused. “You look worried.”

“Skarpa insisted on going over the seniority … as if something might happen to him tomorrow or in the weeks ahead. He’s never done that before.”

“He’s never commanded this big an army before, has he?”

“No … but it’s not like him. I can’t help but worry if it’s another way of saying he doesn’t like the idea of invading Antiago.”

“Do you?”

“No … but it’s the least of the evils.” Quaeryt fingered his chin, then shook his head. “Everyone will think that it was foolish and unnecessary, and that all those who will have died didn’t have to. But the fights and the wars will go on and on until Lydar is unified.”

“If it stays unified,” Vaelora pointed out.

“It has to. That’s one thing the imagers can do for your brother and his son.”

“Only if you survive, dearest. No one else can hold them together … and face down Bhayar.”

“I think you’ve made that point before.”

“I’ll keep making it, too.”

“What are you telling Aelina?”

“That I’m healthy, and that Geusyn and southern Bovaria have little to recommend them.”

“We agree on that.” Quaeryt sat on the end of the bed and glanced toward the unshuttered windows, one of which was open, with a cold breeze flowing from it. “Aren’t you cold?”

“No. I get too warm if the window’s not open. Aelina told me that might happen. She said I was fortunate not to have to carry a child through the summer. She had to, and she was miserable.”

“Especially in Solis.”

“It wouldn’t be any better here.”

Quaeryt could believe that. In thinking about the letter his wife was writing, he also realized that neither he nor Vaelora had received any letters or dispatches … and Skarpa only one of a noncommittal nature. He couldn’t help but worry about what might be happening in Variana.
But there’s nothing you can do about it.

All too soon, he gave Vaelora a brief kiss and headed back down to the large plaques chamber, where he waited outside with Skarpa, while all the regimental commanders entered and took their places around the large circular table.

Then he entered, followed by Skarpa, who remained standing while all the others seated themselves.

“Tomorrow, we’re going to take Kephria,” Skarpa began.

Quaeryt surveyed the faces of the officers seated around the table. Kharllon revealed nothing, nor did Meurn. Paedn nodded, as did Fhaen. Dulaek frowned, and Fhaasn’s brow wrinkled in puzzlement. Alazyn glanced at Quaeryt more than once. He just nodded in return.

“It’s simple,” Skarpa went on. “We were sent to secure the border with Antiago and to obtain the allegiance of the Bovarian High Holders in the south. All of them have fled into Antiago. When Commander Quaeryt took part of his force to Kherseilles, his ships were attacked by Antiagon warships. While he and his imagers sank three of the five attackers, that was an act of war against Telaryn. So is harboring traitorous High Holders. Previously, the Autarch has attacked Ephra as well. His cannon take aim at any ship nearing Kephria that is not Antiagon. The only way to carry out our orders and secure the border is to take Kephria.”

“We don’t have cannon or siege engines, sir,” said Subcommander Meurn. “Or will we be marching east and swinging behind the wall?”

“Trying to ride or march through those woods would be hard on your men, Subcommander,” replied Skarpa. “We’ll be leaving the wall to Commander Quaeryt and his men. Once they’ve opened it, because there may be a fair amount of debris, we’ll need a foot regiment to move in first. That will be Fifteenth Regiment…”

Meurn did frown at that, if momentarily, as Skarpa continued putting forth the plan of attack.

Quaeryt just listened and watched the other officers, knowing he’d need to go over details with Alazyn and Zhelan after the meeting, and then with Major Baarl, the senior major from Eleventh Regiment, since the two battalions he was temporarily commanding would be the ones guarding Geusyn—and Vaelora.

52

By seventh glass on Solayi morning, Quaeryt, first company and the imagers, and the three regiments Skarpa had selected from Southern Army were formed up some two hundred yards north of the gray stone wall that separated Kephria from Bovaria. The air was chill, the sky a hazy gray. To the right, and nearest to the River Laar, were Quaeryt and the imagers, with first company drawn up close behind them. In the center of the rutted road was Fifteenth Regiment, with the mounted Sixth Regiment behind them, and Twenty-sixth Regiment farther back.

Skarpa was mounted beside Quaeryt with a squad from Third Regiment to his left and slightly behind him. The remaining three regiments from Southern Army and Nineteenth Regiment were standing by, but on the outskirts of Geusyn.

“There’s still no one on the walls,” said Skarpa. “And no clamoring or alarms from the south.”

“They may not be worried. They can’t see cannon or siege engines.”
They may not even know that we’ve used imagers to remove walls. And even if they’ve heard stories, most people wouldn’t believe them.

“Proceed, Commander,” ordered Skarpa, nodding as he issued the order.

“Undercaptain Khalis! Clear the underbrush!” ordered Quaeryt.

“Yes, sir!” The young undercaptain concentrated. A swathe of underbrush more than a hundred yards wide and fifty deep vanished. Instantly, a thin white mist appeared above the ground where the bushes had been.

“Undercaptain Threkhyl! Forward!”

“Sir!”

“Remove the first section of wall.”

“Yes, sir.”

Barely had the acknowledgment left the undercaptain’s mouth when a white flash obscured the gray stone barrier for an instant. When Quaeryt could see, an opening a hundred yards wide, from the ground up, had appeared in the stone. Beyond the middle of the opening was a stretch of gray stone pavement that looked to extend hundreds of yards south, almost to the edge of the harbor.

Quaeryt glanced to Threkhyl, who swayed slightly in his saddle. “Drink some watered lager! Now!”

His eyes went back to the opening in the wall. Beyond where the stone wall had stood was a welter of huts and hovels, through which wound twisted paths. The newly created and paved road had cut through a number of those dwellings, and dust swirled up through the chill morning air, made even colder by the imaging. Several women were screaming … and people were scrambling out of the ramshackle dwellings and hurrying southward toward the more solid structures around the harbor.

Quaeryt hadn’t known what to expect, but he hadn’t anticipated what he saw.

But you should have known! Aliaro wouldn’t have built the wall right beside good houses.
On the other hand, there was no sign of a nearby barracks or post, unless the wall sentries or guards were based in a modest gray stone building set against the shore wall just before the corner where it turned out into the waters of the River Laar.

A horn blared, and the troopers of Fifteenth Regiment moved forward at a trot, blades and bucklers at the ready. Not a single Antiagon armsman moved forward to meet the advancing Telaryn troopers, but the scattered screams grew more numerous as the troopers moved down the stone-paved road through the scattered dwellings and the remaining parts of some huts toward the center of the port town.

“Forward,” ordered Skarpa.

“First company! Forward!” repeated Zhelan.

“Imagers! On me!” added Quaeryt.

Skarpa was careful to set the pace so that Fifteenth Regiment continued in advance of him and first company, although that caution seemed scarcely necessary as the inhabitants of the run-down taudis fled willy-nilly.

In less than a quint the Telaryn forces reached the north end of the harbor, which effectively began with the stone wall that extended out into the river. A handful of men in maroon uniforms fled from the gray stone building at the corner of the wall. One ran for the river and jumped into the water. The others began to run toward the center of the town.

“Not exactly brave defenders,” noted Skarpa.

“Unless there’s a garrison on the south side of Kephria, there may not be any at all,” replied Quaeryt, surveying the north end of the harbor.

Against the south side of the river wall was a stone pier, at which were moored several small craft. One of them was filled with water and resting on the river mud. The shoreline angled eastward downstream of the river wall, forming the northern side of the small harbor, but there was no river wall or seawall on the northern end, just a muddy flat stretching southeast, and flanked by a boulevard paved with uneven and cracked stones on which Quaeryt certainly would not have wished to drive a wagon.

“Company halt!” Quaeryt ordered, since Fifteenth Regiment had also halted.

Several of the buildings bordering the northeast side of harbor were little more than roofless charred structures whose walls had weathered into featureless gray.