L. Modesitt - Imager’s Battalion

He turned in the saddle. “Undercaptain Ghaelyn, if you’d send a request for Major Calkoran to join me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Undercaptain Voltyr, forward. Undercaptains Horan and Smaethyl as well.”

When all three faced him, he looked to Voltyr. “It’s likely that this lake was formed by some sort of breach in a stream or ditch to the south or west. I’m sending you with fourth company and Horan and Smaethyl to find and repair whatever was breached.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shortly, Calkoran rode up, and Quaeryt repeated his instructions in Bovarian, adding, “If you do encounter any large Bovarian forces, I’d appreciate prudence, Major, considering you have three regiments and a battalion behind you. I’d like to have you and your men have the satisfaction of helping take Variana.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once Calkoran and the three imager undercaptains had ridden back to second company, Threkhyl moved his mount forward, pushing Khalis’s mount to the side, in order to reach Quaeryt. “Sir? Why didn’t you send me?”

“Because I need you here to do a bigger job.”

The expression of puzzlement that was beginning to irritate Quaeryt more and more appeared on the older undercaptain’s face.

“Undercaptain … even once Undercaptain Voltyr and the others repair whatever caused this … overgrown puddle, the water isn’t going to vanish. It’s filled a big depression. Maybe it was once a lake. You and the others need to image a stone-paved top to the existing road, and you need to do it carefully and slowly, bit by bit. If you do it all at once, you’ll freeze the water, and you may well create ice between the old roadbed and what you create. By the time three regiments ride over it, the stone might crumble or break.”

Threkhyl still looked puzzled.

“Take my word for it, Undercaptain.” Quaeryt didn’t want to get into the fact that great imaging might freeze the lake solid, because it would still melt fairly quickly, leaving the same muddy water that now faced them. “Imager Undercaptains, forward!”

Quaeryt had Desyrk begin the work, and a stretch of stone running some five yards appeared. Then came Baelthm, who could only add a few yards. It had been clear to Quaeryt that the process would take some time … and the imagers were proving that. Still … after a glass, the raised section of the road extended some three hundred yards.

A little more than a glass later, Voltyr returned with second company, then rode forward to report to Quaeryt.

“Sir. As you suspected, there was extensive damage to an irrigation ditch to the south. We repaired it and strengthened it. But the ground is so flat here that there’s no way to drain the water away. If we had created a breach all the way through the ditch, it just would have flooded the other side, and then the water would have kept rising on both sides of the ditch.”

“Thank you. Somehow … that doesn’t surprise me. Now we’ll need what help you can give to raise the roadbed here.”

With all the imagers alternating, and with generous rest breaks, it took until the second glass of the afternoon before the work to raise the roadbed a third of a yard or so above the water was completed. Immediately, Skarpa’s scouts rode out once more.

Fifth Battalion moved forward behind them, beyond the lake onto the section of the road beyond the water, where the land sloped gently, barely noticeably, upward, but it was almost a half mille farther to the west before there were any cots or outbuildings near the road.

Skarpa rode forward and eased in beside Quaeryt. Zhelan dropped back, deferentially.

“Took you a while to fix that,” offered the commander. “Good job, though.”

“Building up a half mille of road takes time and effort, even for imagers. I also wanted to rest them as I could, just in case we ran into more Bovarians.”

“Good thought, but the scouts haven’t returned. So they’re not likely to be too close.”

“I’d hope not. Some of the undercaptains won’t be able to do much imaging until tomorrow.”

“I’d thought as much, but we don’t have to press that hard. We’ll stop earlier tonight. We’ve made good progress.”

Quaeryt nodded, waiting.

“We’d better hang on to all the lands we’ve taken,” said Skarpa sardonically. “Be a shame to let Kharst benefit from all the improvements you and the imagers have made.”

“I’m beginning to think more and more like that. They were his lands, and people, and he’s destroying things, and we’re supposedly conquering them, and we’re rebuilding and improving things.” After a brief pause Quaeryt added, “Except for the gates at Nordeau.”

“They were old,” rejoined Skarpa. “Besides, we need to leave reminders here and there.”

Besides thousands and thousands of dead Bovarians?

Skarpa said nothing else, and neither did Quaeryt for the moment as they continued westward toward Variana.

By midday on Vendrei, Skarpa’s forces were within a few milles of Caluse, which appeared to be a moderate-sized town. Skarpa had summoned all the subcommanders, and he and Quaeryt waited for Meinyt and Khaern under a large oak tree that provided some relief from another day of blazing sun.

It may be harvest, but it’s more like midsummer … Does summer ever end here? Or is this just an unusual year? Quaeryt noted that even Skarpa had pushed back his visor cap and wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve.

“Almost as hot as Solis,” muttered the commander.

“Hotter, it seems to me.”

“Could be. Like to think it’s why they’re not fighting.” Skarpa broke off as Meinyt and Khaern rode up, then dismounted, and turned their horses over to waiting rankers.

Once the two joined Quaeryt and Skarpa in the shade, all four standing well back from the shoulder of the wide but dusty gray stone road, Skarpa blotted his forehead again, cleared his throat, and spoke. “The town ahead is Caluse. Scouts can’t find traces of any Bovarian forces, and the place looks deserted. Everything’s shuttered, and there’s no one on the streets.” Skarpa shook his head. “Don’t know as I believe that, but I’ve sent out two squads and one even rode partway into town. What’s stranger is that there’s a three-span bridge across the Aluse, and they left it standing. Why’d they do that? Variana’s only twenty milles to the west … if we can believe the maps.”

“They didn’t expect us to get this far,” suggested Khaern. “Or this quickly, and they didn’t have time to destroy the bridge.”

“They want us to settle in here, comfortable-like, before they attack us while we’re sleeping,” suggested Meinyt. “Or not expecting them.”

“We have another problem,” Skarpa pointed out. “Or maybe it’s an opportunity. We’re a day ahead of the marshal’s forces. If we hold up here, we can join his forces, or he can join us.”

Not if Myskyl and Deucalon get their way, thought Quaeryt.

“Either way,” continued Skarpa, “it’s easy with the bridge not being damaged. That might be why the Bovarians left it intact.”

“As a trap to entice us to join up?” asked Khaern.

“What other reason could there be?” demanded Meinyt.

“You haven’t said anything, Quaeryt,” noted Skarpa.

“You’ve all suggested any of the possibilities I could think of.” Except total Bovarian incompetence, and I don’t believe that. “Most of the town is on the south side of the river. This is the first town with a bridge over the Aluse where most of the dwellings are on the south side. All the other towns have much smaller southern quarters.” He paused. “Except the old quarter of Nordeau on the north side was smaller than the old quarter on the south. But all the Bovarian-built towns, except this one, are larger on the north side of the river.”