L. Modesitt - Imager’s Battalion

While Quaeryt did stop, Skarpa wasn’t there, and the duty squad leader could only say that the commander was meeting with the marshal. Quaeryt left word that he would like to talk to Skarpa when he returned.

Zhelan was waiting in the modest foyer when Quaeryt stepped out of a sun that felt entirely too hot for harvest and into the coolness of the Stone’s Rest. Quaeryt gestured toward the public room. “I’ve had a hot ride, and you could use something while we talk.”

“I’ll not complain about that, sir.”

Once they were seated in a corner away from the archways, with a mug in front of each of them, Quaeryt looked to the major. “You had a question?”

“I was hoping, seeing as you were headed to see Lord Bhayar, that you might have some idea as to when we’d be packing out.”

Quaeryt took a swallow of the lager, a trace more bitter than he liked, before he spoke. “At least two days, and not more than a week. I’d wager on two days, but I don’t think anyone’s been told. You should tell the men to plan on no more than two days, but that it could be longer. We may know when Commander Skarpa returns. How are you coming with getting grain?”

“We should have enough for a week…”

For almost a glass, Quaeryt went over matters concerning Fifth Battalion before he and Zhelan finished. Only then did Quaeryt retreat to the third floor, almost falling down the stairs between the second and third level when he caught the boot heel of his bad left leg on a stair riser. When he finally reached his chamber, he settled onto the chair and slit open the letter. The seal had been tampered with, most likely by Bhayar. After looking at the dates, he began to read.

Dearest!

Finally, a letter from you, one that I so looked forward to and enjoyed reading, although I must say that it appears my correspondence must have been misaddressed for it to have taken so long to reach you. I am responding as swiftly as I can. I have been more careful in addressing this and trust it will arrive more quickly. I was glad to hear that you remain well and trust and pray that you will continue so.

Your observations about how Rex Kharst maintains control over his High Holders were most disturbing. I share your belief that a ruler who wishes to remain both respected and loved should adopt methods more effective and yet less cruel and less obvious. I will be most interested in discussing such with you once we are reunited, though I fear that time will not be soon. Matters here in Solis have developed in much the way one might have guessed. They are not as good as one would like, nor as difficult as might be …

In short, Quaeryt thought, the ministers are quibbling about finances and making matters hard, but not defying you and Aelina outright.

My digestion has improved. That is good, because it has been a very hot summer. I have had to retreat to the coolness of the fountains more than in past summers, and there is no sign of the heat becoming any less. There is also little rain, and the harvest may be scant if more does not bless the lands of Piedryn.

In past letters we discussed to what extent those in power could trust those who provide them with counsel and advice. While at times, I have little else to do besides advise the lady who is as much my sister as if we share the same blood, interesting though that may be at times, some further thoughts have occurred to me in regard to who may be trusted and why and who may not. The man whose future can only improve if others fail or die is one who must be watched most closely, unless he is one who would prefer to serve than to lead. Yet there is an exception even to that, for there are those who would wish matters a certain way and would advise those they serve, who in turn directly serve a ruler, in such a way as to bring about such ends. Such men are seldom scrutinized for the effect of their advice by rulers because the ruler assumes that his direct subordinate is acting in either that subordinate’s interest or the ruler’s …

Quaeryt nodded. Has she heard about Myskyl’s actions from some other source?

… This is most common, or so I have heard, having no experience at all in such, where men go to war. I can but assume that such self-oriented advice is less common among those who bear arms and risk their lives, and more common among those who are farther from dangers of personal injury …

A smile spread across Quaeryt’s face. She wanted her brother to read those words. He shook his head in amusement.

When he set down her letter, he wondered what he should write. How much and how directly? After more than a glass of struggling with his own words, he looked down at the page on the desk.

My dearest,

Your latest letter arrived in far greater haste than those earlier, and it was with great pleasure that I read it, especially to hear that you are again enjoying your food. Here, of course, our food ranges at best from that prepared indifferently to hard rations or biscuits, or very occasionally less than that.

We are now recuperating from our efforts in the ancient town of Nordeau, which we now hold, the Bovarians, those who survived, having fled. Through some form of miscommunication, Commander Skarpa’s forces first took the southern part, and then two days later, the northern part. Marshal Deucalon’s forces arrived almost two days later. My undercaptains all survived, but several of us are rather bruised, still, and sore, but will certainly recover before we press on … whenever that may be.

As in Solis, harvest here has been especially hot and damp, and there is no sign of the weather becoming cooler, although we have had more rain here than has apparently fallen on Piedryn. It would be for the best, I fear, if the weather remains warm, but the Nameless will have things as they will be …

As for your thoughts on the trustworthiness of advice, in the end, the trust must rest in the character of the man or the woman, and not in the position that either may hold. You suggested that there is a greater risk of untrustworthiness among those of higher position, and I fear, alas, that such is indeed so, particularly when the ambitions of a man exceed his true abilities, especially of those men who have not been tested, always having been in secondary positions. Yet who of us can accurately judge what we may accomplish and what we may not …

Another glass passed before Quaeryt finished the letter and went to find a courier to dispatch it … and that took more than a glass before he finally entrusted the missive to one of Skarpa’s majors, with a silver for the dispatch rider.

On Vendrei, Quaeryt mustered the imager undercaptains and put them through imaging drills, both morning and afternoon, allowing several glasses rest in between. He did not press Shaelyt excessively, but Shaelyt did seem to be recovering somewhat more quickly than had Quaeryt, possibly because he was younger … or because he had not taken the brunt of the musket fire. By the end of the afternoon session, it was clear that both young Pharsi undercaptains had greatly improved. Quaeryt had to smile at the thought that they were now the “young” imagers, and Shaelyt, who he had thought was young, was now no longer so, at least comparatively.

But then, battles and death age us all, in mind if not in body. He paused, then had a second thought. Except for those not wise enough to age.

He went to bed on Vendrei evening having heard nothing from Skarpa, not that the lack of information surprised him. He was certain Skarpa had heard nothing, either.

On Samedi morning, after returning from arranging for the undercaptains to work with the best of Zhelan’s squad leaders on improving their use of the sabre, he was sitting alone in the public room of the Stone’s Rest, looking at a mug of lager that a serving girl had just brought him, when a trooper hurried in.