“That’s possible. He’ll certainly try to draw us in, and then cut us off and try to surround us. Deucalon stated that in his last dispatch. One of his scouting teams captured a dispatch rider. One of the dispatches stated that Kharst was summoning regiments from all over Bovaria, and that all growers and holders were to destroy stores and supplies rather than let them be captured. It also said that those who allowed Telaryn forces to take supplies would be guilty of treason and executed.” Skarpa shook his head. “That’s another reason why I’ve had you looking for supplies. Kharst will likely mount a solid defense, even a counterattack, when we near Villerive. He’ll need to do that, if only to purchase time to allow more regiments to arrive with additional troops and arms.”
“He didn’t expect Bhayar to attack,” suggested Quaeryt.
“He also didn’t expect to lose more than eight regiments to the last man in Ferravyl. But he’ll likely be counting on having greater numbers when we next meet.”
“He’s lost more than a regiment just to us since we’ve left Ferravyl,” pointed out Meinyt.
“If he can find a way to do it, he’ll sacrifice every farmboy and laborer in all of Bovaria to stop us,” replied Skarpa.
Quaeryt was afraid that was all too true-and that it meant that victory for Telaryn would likely be a bloody affair. But then, when have wars ever been anything but bloody?
“Regardless, we need to get on with our plans for the next few days,” said Skarpa. “We’re some eight milles from Ralaes, and that’s where we’ll stage and wait for the attack on Villerive. That’s if the Bovarians haven’t dug in and set up defenses this side of the town. So far the scouts haven’t seen any sign of that kind of preparation.” Skarpa spread out a map on the table. “Here’s what I have in mind…”
Quaeryt listened intently, his eyes going from Skarpa to the map and back again, as he tried to visualize the positions and maneuvers the commander had in mind.
After two quints Skarpa rolled up the map and straightened up. “We’ll go over this again in the morning, after you’ve had a chance to think about it.” He looked at Quaeryt. “It’s stopped raining, and you still have to conduct services, Subcommander. The men are beginning to gather already. I trust you’ll be as inspirational as ever.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Skarpa rose, and so did Quaeryt and Meinyt.
When Quaeryt reached the gently sloping lawn at the back of the hold house, he was surprised to see so many troopers and officers on the slope. There must have been close to a thousand waiting. There was also no way most of them would be able to hear him. What about image-projecting your speaking voice? That way most of them will think your voice is barely reaching them.
It was worth a try.
He walked to the circular paved area that surrounded a fountain that had been drained, moving to that part of the stone paving facing the base of the slope, then turned. Concentrating on image-projecting his voice, he began with the greeting. “We gather together in the spirit of the Nameless and to affirm the quest for goodness and mercy in all that we do.”
Then came the opening hymn, and he began the only one he knew by heart-“Glory to the Nameless.” At least some of the troopers knew it, and he did not project his singing after the first few words, knowing he’d get off-key sooner or later.
The confession, as always one of the hardest parts of the service for Quaeryt, came next. He felt fraudulent in leading a confession of error to a deity he wasn’t certain existed, or that any deity existed, although he had no trouble confessing to error, just to the idea that he and those who followed his words would be forgiven by the Nameless, since he’d observed all too little forgiveness in the world.
“We name not You, for naming presumes, and we presume not upon the Creator of all that was, is, and will be. We pray not to You for ourselves, nor ask from You favor or recognition, for such asks You to favor us over others who are also Yours. We confess that we risk in all times the sins of presumptuous pride. We acknowledge that the very names we bear symbolize those sins, for we strive too often to raise our names and ourselves above others, to insist that our small achievements have meaning. Let us never forget that we are less than nothing against Your Nameless magnificence and that we must respect all others, in celebration and deference to You who cannot be named or known, only respected and worshipped.”
Quaeryt did lead the chorus of “In Peace and Harmony.”
In the silence that followed, he cleared his throat and began. “Good evening, and it is a good evening.”
“Good evening,” came the chorused reply.
“All evenings are good evenings under the Nameless. Some are good in and of themselves, and some are like this evening. They’re good because most of us have survived to reach the evening, despite the best efforts of our enemies to the contrary…” Quaeryt paused briefly, looking upward to the higher part of the slope, but even up there several troopers had nodded, and that suggested his image-projection was working.
“Earlier today, I was talking to another officer, and I asked him if the Nameless was somehow different here in Bovaria-although I guess we’re now still in Telaryn, according to Lord Bhayar…”
That brought a few smiles before Quaeryt went on.
“… or was it that the ideas attributed to the Nameless were taken differently here. He just said wisely that so far as men were concerned, it made no difference. Why does it make no difference?”
Quaeryt paused, letting the silence draw out, before he went on. “It makes no difference because no matter what the precepts of the Nameless may be, we as men, and women as women, are the ones to interpret those precepts. The Nameless does not come thundering out of the sky-at least not very often from what I’ve seen-and strike down any man who lies, or cheats, or murders … or Names in some fashion. We are the ones who enforce, or fail to enforce, those precepts. We are the ones who lead by example … or fail to do so. The Nameless has not changed nature or precepts from one part of Lydar to another. In war, the Nameless does not tell Lord Bhayar to treat small growers with care and Rex Kharst to burn the lands of such small growers.
“How does this happen? It happens, it seems to me, when those with power become more interested how others view them-and they wish to make other men desire to be like them. They wish to create other men in their likeness. What is that but another form of Naming? Yet that is not the way of the Nameless. That is why the Nameless has no appellation. It is why there are no paintings or statues of the Nameless, because the Nameless gave us the freedom to be the best we could be, not to strive to be a copy of something.
“Look around at the world. Not all creatures are the same, nor are all the creatures of a given type all the same. The same is true of people. There are tall men and women and short ones, those with red hair, and those with black or blond hair. Across the world, the colors of people’s skins differs. In these regiments, we have different men with different skills. If all of us were like each other, we could not accomplish nearly so much. We need troopers, and quartermasters, and scouts, and engineers, even imagers. There is not one likeness that fits all men-and yet rulers like Kharst would have it so … and that is one of the most evil forms of Naming of all, the vanity that one man, one ruler, would wish to have all people act in one manner, and in one likeness. And all of you have seen the evil that comes from this … and that is an evil we must firmly oppose while remaining true to what we are and can be-men with great differences striving toward a common goal, and that goal is to create a land where all can be the best that they can, and not pale likenesses of a ruler who has turned to the Namer in an effort at mindless conquest.”