Antiagon Fire

45

Both the rain and strong following winds continued for almost another day before both subsided. Finally, on Solayi morning, the Montagne and the Solis crept up the last few milles of the Gulf of Khellor toward Ephra under hazy skies that blocked most heat from the sun and left frost on any shaded section of the ship’s decks. Quaeryt stood on the sterncastle deck in the raw cold that might have been truly bitter, even in his heavy winter riding jacket, had the wind amounted to any more than the faintest breeze. Vaelora had joined Quaeryt briefly, then retreated to the stateroom when it had become clear that the Montagne’s progress was slow, that there was little to see, and that Quaeryt was not the best of company.

Nykaal did not move from his post near the helm, but his head and eyes never stopped searching, even after the lookouts reported sighting no ships moored either at Ephra or Kephria.

The fact that there were no ships in the harbor at Kephria or moored offshore, combined with the sighting of vessels leaving Antiagon waters lightly loaded, or perhaps without any outbound cargoes, had Quaeryt fretting. What had happened in Geusyn? Had the local High Holders turned their forces against Skarpa? Was the Autarch backing them? Or had they retreated into Antiago? Or had something even worse occurred?

Finally, as the Montagne neared Ephra, Nykaal crossed the deck to where Quaeryt stood.

“Commander, how do you want to handle debarkation … and where?”

“What would you recommend as the fastest way to get the men to Geusyn and you on your way back to Kherseilles?”

“Those aren’t quite the same objectives, Commander. It would be far faster for the Montagne if we moored at Ephra.”

“But getting the men to Geusyn would take longer?”

Nykaal nodded.

“Then we should use the best method to get the men to Geusyn quickly.”

“I thought that might be your decision, given your concerns about the High Holders and Autarch Aliaro. We can sail farther north, if we stay to the west, and we can use the pinnaces…”

Quaeryt listened as Nykaal explained what he proposed, essentially using the pinnaces to ferry the troopers to a point south of Geusyn and then letting the river carry the empty pinnaces back out to the Montagne.

By the second glass of the afternoon, the first pinnace, carrying Zhelan and most of the first squad of first company, was under sail toward the lower ferry piers of Geusyn. From what Quaeryt could tell, there were no troopers in the area, and there was no cannon fire from the northern walls of Kephria. Still … he worried.

The second pinnace-from the Solis-arrived and took second squad. More than a glass later, the first pinnace returned to the Montagne, this time for Quaeryt and Vaelora, the undercaptains, and half of third squad.

The River Laar was choppy, and the spray from the waves was so cold that it stung when it hit the exposed flesh. By the time Quaeryt helped Vaelora out of the pinnace at the lower ferry piers, he had the feeling that his face was reddened and almost frostbitten.

Zhelan greeted them immediately.

“As you requested, sir, I sent word to Submarshal Skarpa. He holds the River Inn as his headquarters. Your mounts are waiting up on the road. His dispatch said that he looked forward to meeting with you at your earliest convenience.”

“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.