Frig! A Namer-built retracting bridge!
Quaeryt reined up, barely coming to a halt before reaching the open space. A handful of armored footmen jumped, missing the retracting bridge and tumbling into the river below. The timbered section of the bridge continued to recede toward the small fortified garrison whose walls seemingly rose from the River Aluse itself. Given the efforts he’d already made, Quaeryt wasn’t about to try to image the bridge into place or create another span. He was surprised to see that the handrails on each side of the timbered section had dropped so that they lay flat against the roadbed, as if each railing support had been mounted on something like an axle.
Quaeryt slowly turned the mare and looked down the bridge approach into the southern part of Nordeau. While first company held the top of the approach, the remaining three companies were involved in dealing with the surviving Bovarian footmen and pikemen. Given the narrowness of the streets, there was little first company could do without getting in the way of the rest of Fifth Battalion.
Quaeryt’s eyes were watering, his head aching, and he didn’t want to do any more imaging unless it was absolutely necessary. He looked to Baelthm. “Are you all right?”
The older undercaptain looked back at Quaeryt. “Better question might be, sir, whether you are.”
“So far…” Quaeryt paused as more Telaryn troopers rode up the curved street that had to have come from the southwest gate, but they halted where the two streets merged, then reversed position and held. On the other street, the Khellan companies had largely stopped fighting, having either destroyed or routed the Bovarians they had encountered.
Quaeryt turned to Zhelan, who had eased his mount closer. “I need to see how the imager undercaptains are doing. I’m going to ride down to Fifth Regiment.”
“If you plan to go farther, sir, I’d recommend a squad going with you.”
“If I do, I’ll send for one, or take one from their companies.” Quaeryt edged his mount down along the side of the stone wall of the bridge approach until he reached the more open space near the last squad of first company. From there he could see Shaelyt and the two younger Pharsi undercaptains, one of whom was leaning over in his saddle and retching. Shaelyt was bent forward, his head almost resting on the neck of his mount.
“Undercaptain Shaelyt,” called Quaeryt.
Shaelyt straightened and turned in Quaeryt’s general direction, but it was clear that he did not see his subcommander. “Sir?”
Quaeryt rode closer. “I’m here. You’re having trouble seeing?”
That brought a nod, and a swallow, as if Shaelyt were trying not to retch. Both Khalis and Lhandor stiffened, but did not speak. Khalis was pale, but he’d been the one retching, Quaeryt realized. Lhandor was slightly wan, but looked composed, as if exhausted, but not nauseated.
“Did you get the gates down? Any luck with the ramp?”
“The gates … yes. We couldn’t manage a ramp, but … Fifth Regiment didn’t have a problem following us through the gates. There was … were … two companies … frozen … but another company of pikemen … we managed to hold shields enough to scatter the front lines … After that the troopers took over…” Shaelyt swallowed again.
“You’re not doing any more imaging today,” said Quaeryt.
“No, sir … can’t see, except in flashes…”
“And your head throbs like someone’s beating it like an anvil or jabbing it with spears?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What about you two?” Quaeryt looked to Lhandor.
“I don’t think I could image a copper, sir.”
“What did you image on the attack?”
“I can’t do shields, not properly. I imaged iron darts into some archers who were taking aim on us and Captain Kharaf. So did Khalis.”
“Are you feeling better, Khalis?” asked Quaeryt.
“Some, sir…” The young undercaptain swallowed.
“All of you, sip from your water bottles until you can swallow. Then eat some of those biscuits I insisted you bring. Yes … I know they’re like bricks, but gnaw on them as you can. It will help.”
“Yes, sir.”
Quaeryt stood in the stirrups, trying to look farther south to see Meinyt and the rest of Fifth Regiment. While he could discern troopers who were likely from Fifth Regiment, he couldn’t make out Meinyt. He dropped back down into the saddle. “Undercaptains, we’ll return to first company.” He turned the mare and rode up the gradual stone-paved approach to the bridge, reining up at the rear of the troopers and turning the mare so that he could see whoever might be approaching.
The other undercaptains were supposed to rejoin Fifth Battalion as they could, but so far there was no sign of those who’d been with Eleventh Regiment and Third Regiment. Quaeryt blotted the sweat off his forehead, sweat he hadn’t even realized was there until it oozed into the corner of his eyes and delivered a salty sting.
To the south he saw the Fifth Regiment troopers ease to one side of the street and allow the Khellan companies to ride to rejoin first company. As Major Calkoran neared, Quaeryt didn’t see any empty saddles, and second company looked to be close to full strength. Quaeryt did see blood splatters and streaks on the sleeves of many of the troopers.
Zhelan rode forward and spoke to Calkoran, then continued onward to get reports from Zhael and then Arion before he rode back to Quaeryt.
“Sir, reporting on Fifth Battalion.”
“Go ahead, Major.”
“First company, two dead, fifteen wounded. Second company, four dead, five wounded. Third company, three dead, six wounded. Fourth company, three wounded. That does not count the undercaptains assigned to other regiments.”
“Thank you.” Only nine dead, and twenty-nine wounded. Unfortunately, Quaeryt had no doubt that the casualties were far higher among the regiments.
A squad leader wearing a green and red armband edged his mount along the side of the bridge approach toward Quaeryt and finally reined up facing him. “Subcommander, sir, the commander asks that Fifth Battalion continue to hold the bridge and prepare for an attack on the isle fort and beyond.”
“Tell Commander Skarpa that we hold the bridge but that an immediate attack on the isle fort is not physically possible. The Bovarians retracted the bridge before we could reach it.” Quaeryt gestured toward the open space beyond the bridge approach.
“Yes, sir.” The squad leader nodded, then turned his mount and rode back down the bridge approach and then onto the street that led to the southeastern gate.
Quaeryt eased out the water bottle and took a longer swallow, before fumbling out a biscuit and slowly chewing on it. You’re a little late in taking your own advice. He glanced back south, then northward toward the isle. He could see nothing behind the walls of the small fort in the middle of the river.
Before all that long, the troopers now in formation on the streets and the approach to the bridge made way for Skarpa, flanked by Khaern and Meinyt. Behind them rode the remaining imager undercaptains-Threkhyl, Horan, Desyrk, Voltyr, and Smaethyl. All five were sweat-drenched and pale.
Quaeryt eased the mare forward to meet the senior officers, then halted, as did the other three.
The imagers made their way past, and Quaeryt could see that Voltyr’s eyes were twitching. Horan was almost leaning on his mount’s neck. Quaeryt looked at Skarpa.
“I got your message, Subcommander. How did that happen?”
“We broke through the gates, and I led first company straight to the bridge. We didn’t hesitate at all. They were retracting the bridge before we were even close to it. They left some of their own men on this side rather than letting us even get close.”