“Someone smashed the gears in the winch. We haven’t been able to find any spare gears. We can rig a way to use the capstan once we can reattach new cables, but it will be slower.”
“Do that for now,” said Skarpa. “They might have spare gears on the other side.”
Or the Bovarians might end up smashing the winches on both sides. Quaeryt frowned. “Could I take a look at the winch?”
“Yes, sir. Now?”
“Why not?”
“This way, sir.”
Quaeryt followed the engineer down the staircase he’d just climbed, across the courtyard to a small gate, and then down another narrow set of stone steps cut into the bluff leading to the ferry slips. The winch was located on the wide center wharf between the two slips.
There the engineer pointed to the uncovered mechanism. “Looks like they smashed those three gears there. Be a bitch to replace them, even if we can find spares.”
Quaeryt studied the winch’s workings for several moments. “The imagers might be able to help. If you could send someone to summon them … they’re all at the inn-the Grande Sud.”
“Yes, sir. We can do that.” The engineer captain hurried off.
While Quaeryt waited for the imagers to arrive, he studied the winch in greater detail, slowly imaging away a loose chunk of gearing in one place and then in another, just enough to see if he could do it. Then he concentrated on rebuilding just one gear tooth on a large gear.
It appeared … and it looked solid, but was it? He waited half a quint before he tapped it with a mallet from a tool kit. It sounded solid, but again, the proof would be in the operation.
After that, he walked back and forth along the slips, waiting.
It took almost three quints for the rankers Quaeryt sent out to locate and return with all the imager undercaptains. All of them had puzzled expressions as, one by one, they joined Quaeryt on the wharf. He waited to explain until they were all there before the damaged winch.
“The reason I summoned you is that we have a problem here. The Bovarian troopers, or the cable ferry operators, smashed this winch. You can see the damaged gears there. It would be most helpful to Lord Bhayar and his forces if we could get this winch in working condition again so that once Marshal Deucalon takes Rivecote Nord, we can get the ferry operating as quickly as possible. We need to accomplish two things. First, we need to remove the broken pieces of gears. Then we need to image the gears as if they were new.”
Quaeryt looked over the undercaptains. “Has anyone had any experience imaging parts of things?”
“Ah … I have,” said Baelthm, “but much, much smaller parts, no bigger than a finger.”
“Anyone else?”
No one spoke.
“All right, the first thing we need to do is to image out the broken pieces, one at a time. Threkhyl, you’re first. Do you see that chunk of iron gearing there?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’d like you to remove it, image it away. Just it. Nothing else.”
The ginger-bearded undercaptain concentrated, and in a moment the broken gear section was gone.
“Good. Voltyr, this other piece…”
It took almost a quint and two efforts by each undercaptain to remove the broken metal, and Quaeryt had to give a little hidden assistance to Baelthm.
“Now … the next part is harder. The gears are iron, and we need to replace the broken teeth, and they have to meld with the others…”
Imaging the sections of gears back in place took almost two glasses, and left all the imagers exhausted, because Quaeryt was effectively making them match gears by eye and that required both imaging and un-imaging and smoothing … and doing some of them over two and three times. More than a few times, he ended up doing some of the work, although it appeared that none of the undercaptains noticed.
Finally, Quaeryt motioned to the engineer captain, who had been watching from a distance. The captain walked swiftly toward him, then halted a yard away.
“Captain, while it appears as though we may have fixed this winch, I honestly cannot tell if the repairs the imagers have made will stand the strain of operation. Can you turn it without any load just to see if the gears mesh properly? And do so very slowly?”
“We can, sir.”
Once again, Quaeryt waited, as did the imagers.
Everything about war is a flurry of action, then a lot of waiting, or slow traveling, followed by action, and more waiting. At least, that was the impression he’d gotten in the Tilboran Revolt, and the war against Bovaria looked to be following the same pattern.
Finally, a crew of rankers appeared and took the capstan bars, rather than the ox, which also appeared to be missing, but then the engineers might have removed the animal to work on the equipment.
“Forward, slowly…” called the captain. “So far … so good.”
“A little faster, now…”
After a time the engineer called out, “Stop … that will do.” He turned to Quaeryt. “It seems to work. Thank you, sir … imagers.”
“This isn’t something we normally do,” Quaeryt said. “We just hope the repairs will hold.”
“Well … you cleaned out all the smashed pieces, and that alone was a help.”
Quaeryt turned to the undercaptains. “Thank you. Now, you can return to the inn, or you can walk through the town, but you need to do so in pairs. We’ll meet at the inn a quint before mess … dinner.”
“Yes, sir.”
Desyrk and Baelthm were the first to leave, followed by Akoryt and Threkhyl. Voltyr and Shaelyt remained, then eased toward Quaeryt as he headed to the stone steps up to the tower.
“Sir…?” offered Voltyr.
“Yes…?”
“The winch … how did you know…?”
“All that iron,” added Shaelyt.
Quaeryt smiled. “I didn’t, not for certain, but there are winches and capstans on every merchant ship, and I spent six years at sea. This wasn’t that different. It’s a bit heavier and simpler, that’s all.”
“Sir … it seemed like-”
“It was a great deal of work for all of you, but the engineers appreciate it, and so do I, a great deal, and I think it probably improved all of your imaging skills and controls. Don’t you?” Quaeryt smiled warmly.
Voltyr looked to Shaelyt.
The Pharsi nodded, then smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
“I’ll see you both later at the inn.”
“Yes, sir.”
The pair nodded respectfully, then stepped back and turned.
Quaeryt knew very well what that had all been about, but he hadn’t even wanted to let them ask the question, especially not in public and with the engineer not all that far away. He stood for a moment, watching as the two undercaptains walked off the wharf toward the main street, talking quietly. Then he turned and headed for the stone steps.
Skarpa, surprisingly, was waiting when Quaeryt returned to the tower courtyard, breathing heavily from the climb back up the steep steps from the ferry slips.
“Did you repair that winch?”
“It’s no longer jammed. Whether the repairs the imagers made will hold under strain, I can’t tell. Neither can the engineers.” Quaeryt paused, then added, “We did manage to image out all the broken pieces.”
“By the time this war is over, you and those imagers will be worth a regiment.”
Quaeryt hoped so … if he were ever to make the position of scholars and imagers more secure, but he only said, “I’m trying to get them to do what they can and to improve their abilities as much as possible.” And before long, when they’re better imagers, I’ll have to decide whether to teach them about shields … or whom to teach and how.
“That’s becoming clear. I’ll see you later,” said Skarpa, mounting and then riding out of the courtyard.
Quaeryt mounted. He needed to ride through the town and see how orderly things were, and how the patrols were working out.
14
Although it was close to ninth glass when Quaeryt returned to his small room in the inn on Mardi night, he was anything but sleepy after checking the patrols of the town’s streets. Some of that might also have been the aftereffect of imaging. So … although he knew it might be days, if not weeks, before he could send a letter to Valeora, he sat on the edge of the bed and used the small table there to write. Part of his reason, he had to admit, was also knowing that if he did have a chance to send something, he might not have time to compose it. The words did not come easily, but finally he had written all that he could.