L. Modesitt - Imager’s Battalion

Shaelyt nodded. So did Voltyt. After a moment Desyrk offered a faint smile. Baelthm looked skeptical, while Threkhyl’s expression held puzzlement and doubt.

“That’s if we live through it,” Threkhyl finally said. “You’ll do just fine.”

Quaeryt would have liked to point out that he’d suffered more injuries than they had, which had been the case-until Akoryt’s death. Instead, he replied, “I’ve been at the front all the time.”

“You can protect yourself,” countered Threkhyl. “We’ve all seen it.”

“That’s true. That’s also why I’ve been in front, trying to protect as many of you as possible until you can learn how to protect yourselves.”

“The subcommander’s right about that,” said Baelthm.

Quaeryt was surprised that the oldest imager was the one to speak up.

“You’ve not shown me one thing like that,” insisted Threkhyl.

“Well … you can start working on that with Voltyr while I’m gone this morning. When I get back, I’ll go over it with you.”

“Now you-”

“Enough,” snapped Quaeryt, image-projecting absolute authority into Threkhyl, enough that the big man stepped back. “It’s not a matter of strength alone. It took me years to develop the abilities I have. I’ve been working with you barely more than a month, and every one of you can do far more than you could when I started. You’ll be able to do more than that before long. I’m not trying to hold anyone back. If I were, why would I have worked so hard with all of you?” He looked hard at Threkhyl.

For once, the ginger-bearded undercaptain had no answer.

“We’re all in this together. I’ve made mistakes. So have you, but the better all of you become, the greater the chances for all of us to come through this in a far better position than you ever thought possible.” Quaeryt caught the slightest frown from Voltyr, but that vanished quickly.

“How’s that?” demanded Threkhyl.

“It’s simple, if you think about it. Together … we destroyed an entire Bovarian army. Alone … could any of us survive against that large a force? Even if we could, what power would we have to ask for and get better treatment once the war is over?” Quaeryt smiled wryly. “That is … if you all work and become better imagers.” After just the slightest pause, he went on. “You all can think about it while Shaelyt and I are out with the recon company. You’re in charge, Undercaptain Voltyr.” Quaeryt motioned for Shaelyt to join him, then began to walk toward where their mounts were tethered.

Shaelyt had to hurry to catch up to Quaeryt. Once the undercaptain did, he took several more steps before he cleared his throat. Loudly.

“Yes?” asked Quaeryt.

“Sir … you most likely know this … but Threkhyl … he sees things … ah…”

“Directly. In terms of brute force and what happens right now? Is that what you meant?”

“Yes, sir. He only listens to you because you’re stronger, and he knows he can’t hurt you.”

“He does have a way of showing that.” Quaeryt managed to keep his voice mildly sardonic.

“If he learns more … sir?”

“I might be wrong, Shaelyt, but … he might have trouble learning what you and Voltyr do. He already thinks he knows all he needs to know.”

“But … if he does?”

“You and Voltyr will just have to learn more, won’t you?” Quaeryt turned his head directly toward the young undercaptain and grinned.

After a moment Shaelyt smiled back.

After they saddled their mounts, as they rode toward the river, Quaeryt glanced back and was glad to see the other three imagers were paying attention to Voltyr. Lhastyn was just leaving the headquarters house when Quaeryt and Shaelyt reined up at the front of third company.

The captain mounted, then rode over and joined Quaeryt and Shaelyt. “Sir, welcome to third company.”

“Thank you, Captain. We’re just here as observers. We need to see where the imagers might be of the greatest use in any attack on Ralaes.”

“We’re glad to have you. The things your men have done have made matters easier for us.”

“That’s the idea.” Even if sometimes they don’t work out as they should.

As Quaeryt rode beside Captain Lhastyn, within a few hundred yards of leaving the hamlet, he could see that the ground to the south of the river road was getting lower with each yard he rode so that after less than a mille the fields and tended groves had given way to a dense forest so thick that even in the bright morning sunlight, the shadows beneath the trees resembled twilight. The forest appeared to Quaeryt as a jungle with massive live oaks forming a high canopy over smaller trees between and beneath. Thorn vines and thick underbrush formed an intertwined barrier, totally unsuited to any form of mounted advance.

Quaeryt could hear various birdcalls, if muted, from the forest, suggesting a lack of human activity within the green walls, and neither he nor Lhastyn’s scouts, riding along the edge of the forest, could see any footprints or hoofprints coming to or from the woods, although there were more than a few hoofprints on the road itself.

“They’ve had their scouts out,” observed Lhastyn.

“Just as we have,” replied Quaeryt.

Before long, one of the outriders turned his mount and rode back to report, easing his mount in beside Lhastyn. “Sir, once you get to the middle of the flat there, you can see pretty much the whole approach. They can see you as well, because there’s no cover, except on the south side, real close to the trees.”

Lhastyn looked to Quaeryt.

“Why don’t you and I ride up on the south shoulder and take a look?” suggested Quaeryt. “Even if they see two riders, they likely won’t send anyone out. If they do, they’ll send fewer than if they saw an entire company.”

Lhastyn nodded slowly, almost doubtfully.

“Undercaptain Shaelyt is most adept with smoke, pepper, and iron darts, if necessary,” Quaeryt added, urging the mare forward, if gently.

Lhastyn turned in the saddle. “Heorot … you know what to do if you’re attacked.”

“Yes, sir.”

Quaeryt didn’t say anything more, but strengthened his shields as he edged the mare as close as he could to the woods while still leaving a clear path forward. He could sense the captain’s unease and almost smiled. He did listen for the telltale rustle of leaves or branches, but heard none, only the breathing of the two horses, and the whisper of their legs swishing through the grass that grew between the road’s shoulder and the trees. As soon as Quaeryt could make out the entire scope of the approach to the town, he reined up.

At first glance the Bovarian emplacements and revetments appeared almost randomly placed across the wide and low slope that led up to the town. On closer study, Quaeryt realized that they had been placed to block the more gradual approaches. Two of the larger revetments flanked the river road, leaving only the width of the road open.

The revetments had also been created hurriedly, since all were earthworks. That suggested that the Bovarians had decided recently to make a stand at Ralaes. In order to slow or halt us so that they can deploy more troops against our northern forces? He also couldn’t tell whether the defenders had catapults for Antiagon Fire, but he had no doubts that there were archers behind at least some of those earthworks.

“They have enough trenches there to protect three or four regiments,” observed Lhastyn, looking up from the paper on which he was sketching out the positions of the revetments.

“If all of them contain troopers,” said Quaeryt, “then they might have even more, if they hold their reserves over the crest of the hill.”