In the end, though, the men drifted away, except for one, who kept looking at the wagon where the captive sat, trussed up.
After another glass and two quints, Quaeryt ordered Meinyt to re-form the column and head back to the post. While several handfuls of people watched them ride back southward, no one approached, and no one begged.
The first thing that Quaeryt noticed when he entered the courtyard of the post was that the anomen was unlocked, the ancient oak doors had been oiled, and the brasswork polished … and that Vaelora stood by the door, smiling, along with three rankers. Her riding clothes were smudged and stained in places.
Quaeryt rode across the courtyard and dismounted, then tied the mare to one of the ancient hitching rings.
The rankers eased away.
“I see you’ve been busy.”
“They did most of the work, but I knew what had to be done and how to do it.”
Quaeryt raised his eyebrows.
“Did you think that Father would train his son and not train his daughters?”
“But why?” Quaeryt’s voice held far more exasperation than curiosity.
“I can explain … I can…”
At that point both Heireg and Commander Zhrensyl strode quickly across the courtyard toward the two of them.
“Governor!” called Zhrensyl. “The rest of your regiment will be here by fourth glass.”
“I’ve got the cooks ready to feed them. Do you know how many?” asked Heireg.
“The entire regiment is four battalions of four companies each, with an extra company of engineers. All the battalions are mounted.”
“No archers?” Zhrensyl’s eyebrows lifted. “No foot?”
“Governor Straesyr’s predecessor in Tilbor only had a company of archers. They were dispatched to Lord Bhayar with the first regiment to leave Tilbor. Another two companies are being trained, but they weren’t ready. They’ll come with the next regiment. The northern regiments don’t have foot.”
“The next regiment? I thought there was only one regiment in Tilbor, two at the most. How many were there in Tilbor?”
Abruptly, Quaeryt realized that Zhrensyl wouldn’t have known, because Commander Myskyl had taken the southern route to Ferravyl, and there was no reason for Bhayar to have circulated what had actually happened in Tilbor. “Governor Rescalyn had been expanding the regiment there in order to train more recruits. That was because of the possibility of trouble with Bovaria.” All of that was true, if not quite in that context. “Governor Straesyr has been continuing that effort.”
“You’d think they’d let us know.”
“It could be that Lord Bhayar didn’t want Rex Kharst to know until the men were trained and battle-ready. He certainly never explained his reasons to me.”
Zhrensyl shook his head. “Don’t know what this world’s coming to, Governor.” He smiled. “But we’ll do our best.”
“I’m sure you will, and I appreciate it. So does Lord Bhayar.”
“Thank you, sir.” Zhrensyl looked to Vaelora. “And thank you, Lady. The anomen hasn’t looked that good in years.” He offered her a broad smile, then looked back to Quaeryt. “Quite a lady you have, Governor.”
“She is quite a lady, but I’m not so sure that she’s not the one who has me.”
“Either way, you’re both fortunate, sir.”
After the two officers had left, Quaeryt turned back to Vaelora. “I believe you were going to explain.”
“Dearest … I really am a mess.” She gestured to her soiled garb. “I’ll explain, but I don’t want to look like this for you and for the other officers. Besides, you need to take care of that poor mare.”
Quaeryt sighed. Loudly.
“Dearest … you don’t want to be disrespectful…” She offered a warm smile.
He shook his head.
“I’ll be ready for dinner.” With another smile, she hurried across the courtyard.
Quaeryt watched her for a moment, then untied the mare and walked her to the stable. While he turned her over to one of the ostlers to be unsaddled and groomed, he didn’t get more than a few yards from the stable before Major Heireg requested more of his time, both to update him on the supplies they had received from Aramyn and Chaffetz, and to talk about coal, the supplies requested by the engineers, and provisions for the rest of the regiment. Then Quaeryt quickly checked the ledger entries posted by Jhalyt.
By the time Quaeryt finished with Jhalyt, Skarpa was leading Third Regiment through the post gates. Settling the additional battalions in took the remainder of the time before the evening meal, and Quaeryt barely had time to wash up himself and then escort Vaelora to the officers’ mess.
After everyone finished eating, Vaelora excused herself quickly, leaving Skarpa and Quaeryt alone so that the commander could brief Quaeryt on what had occurred on the remainder of the ride to Extela. Quaeryt did wonder why she was being so accommodating, but suspected that she knew he was upset about the anomen and didn’t want to cause any more friction, especially in public.
He couldn’t help but wonder, then realized he’d missed what Skarpa had been saying. “Excuse me. Would you say that again?”
“Governor…” Skarpa said gently, “I asked if you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”
“Oh, no … you might as well go over it now.”
“You got the dispatch about the problems with the bridge at Gahenyara?”
“I did. I didn’t mean to leave you with that much.”
“You couldn’t have done anything more there, sir. From what we saw coming in here, you’ve had plenty to deal with.”
“We have indeed. Do you think the engineers can improve the east bridge?”
“They were already talking about that,” said Skarpa with a laugh. “They’ll manage. Anyway, we had more trouble with the wagons coming into Montagne. The rain we got flooded everything. Between the rain and the wagons, we lost two days.…”
Quaeryt nodded and kept listening as the commander briefed him on all that had happened to the bulk of the regiment.
When Skarpa finished, he looked directly at Quaeryt. “Like I said earlier, sir, looks like you’ve got your hands full.”
More than that. “About a quarter of the city’s buried in ash and lava. We distributed bread and potatoes today … and some flour.” In less than half a quint, Quaeryt explained what had happened, including the missing Civic Patrol and the possible problems with the various High Holders and the fact that he hadn’t even dealt with all of them.
“They’re like that everywhere, most of them, it seems.”
“Oh … do you have any other problems I need to deal with? Ones that I can do something about?” Quaeryt kept his voice light, trying to be humorous.
“Well … there is one,” mused Skarpa. “And it’s something you could do easily, sir, seeing as tomorrow is Solayi … and there’s an anomen in good repair right here on the post.”
No! Not again … But Quaeryt said nothing, knowing that any words that slipped out he would regret.
“Some of the officers, and a lot of the men … well … they saw all the destruction … They’d like a little reassurance.”
“Comfort from the Nameless,” Quaeryt managed to say.
“Yes, sir. I know it’s not something you like to make a practice of, sir…”
“I don’t know the service that well, but if they’ll all bear with me…” Quaeryt shrugged helplessly. “I’m not a chorister.”
“Everyone would appreciate it, sir.”
“So long as they understand…”
“Sir … they understand.”
Quaeryt took a long, last swallow of the bitter lager from his mug. “I suppose I’d better let you get to your officers and get some sleep in a decent bed.” He stood.
So did Skarpa. “That’d be good. Really good.”
Quaeryt walked slowly across the darkness of the courtyard to the officers’ quarters and then up the staircase and along the balcony. The door bolt on their quarters was not thrown, and he opened the door, stepped inside, and slid the bolt. Vaelora rose from where she’d been sitting at the writing desk. Although her portable inkwell and a pen were on the desk, the single sheet of paper was blank.