“With men like you supporting him, how could I do otherwise?” Caemren gestured toward the open door from the salon, then turned and led the way.
“You might because it’s the wisest course.” Quaeryt followed the older man.
“Wisdom is always of the moment, Commander. That is something I’ve learned to my regret. When the moment changes, so does the wise course.”
“I can’t argue that, but I will say that Lord Bhayar generally chooses well for those who serve and support him.” Quaeryt wanted to get the point across that Bhayar had chosen others of capability.
“A host of good and capable men can be brought low by one who is evil and excellent, especially one without principles.”
“I’ve seen that.”
“So have others, but most good men hesitate to act until it is too late.”
But acting too soon is as much a danger as too late. “Timing is everything.”
“So it is. So it is.”
When they reached the portico, Caemren looked to Quaeryt. “A pleasure meeting you, Commander.”
Quaeryt thought he actually meant it … although he wasn’t totally certain about the reasons behind Caemren’s statement. “And I you.” He could feel those intense green eyes on his back as he walked down the steps, took his horse’s reins from the waiting ranker, and mounted.
As Quaeryt rode down the paved drive, he thought over the meeting. One thing was certain. The more he learned about Bovaria, the more he realized that Bhayar would need the imagers far more than even Quaeryt himself had realized. Far more, but that was assuming he was successful in dealing with whatever schemes Myskyl and Deucalon had set in motion … and although he couldn’t have said why, every conversation he had with either factors or High Holders made him more and more concerned about just what the relationship between Myskyl and Deucalon, and the Bovarian High Holders and factors might be.
40
By midday on Samedi, Quaeryt, riding with Calkoran’s company, was some ten milles north of Yapres under a sun that seemed just short of blistering. The road remained as good, if not better than it had been coming into and leading into the town. Quaeryt couldn’t help wondering if that was at least partly because the distance from Variana was great enough that Kharst wouldn’t have known the condition was better? Or because he had seen little point in marching troopers hundreds of milles over bad roads to get to good ones?
As a matter of caution, he’d also instructed Zhelan and Calkoran, whenever they were in the rear, to maintain scouts a good half mille behind the squad acting as rear guard both to avoid any surprises, and in case Deucalon had sent another courier. He also instructed the scouts forward of the vanguard to pull back if they saw any Telaryn riders approaching so as to allow them closer to the lead squads. Quaeryt could only hope that would give his forces a chance to capture such dispatch riders or Telaryn scouts before they turned and galloped back to Rivages to report to Myskyl.
“The road’s really good,” said Zhelan. “It’s like we’re in another land.”
At Zhelan’s remarks, Quaeryt almost froze in the saddle. Another country? Maybe that’s exactly what most of the High Holders here believe. Was that another reason why Tyrena had traveled to Variana to petition Bhayar to hold on to control of her lands for her daughter? That certainly fit with what Quaeryt had learned from Laedica and Daalyn. But Myskyl can’t believe that Bhayar would let him set up his own land.
Quaeryt shook his head. Myskyl didn’t have to believe that. He only had to persuade the High Holders and factors of the north that their only chance for continuing their privileges and power was to back an overthrow of Bhayar-and Quaeryt and the imagers. And you’ve played right into that by disciplining High Holders and factors for their high-handed ways-except those high-handed ways are exactly what they’ve always done and what they believe is their due.
If that was what Myskyl and Deucalon were doing … he had to admire their strategy, but it raised even more questions about exactly what he could do to thwart it-and them-without destroying the regiments Bhayar needed to unite Lydar.
“What is it, sir?” asked Zhelan.
“I was just thinking. Your point about the north of Bovaria being a different land may be truer than you thought.”
“Do you think that’s because of the High Holders?”
“They’re at least part of the problem. I doubt they’re all of it, but they could be. We’ll just have to see.” And Quaeryt wasn’t looking forward to that.
About a glass later, Quaeryt saw all three scouts heading back toward first company at a good pace-a moderate canter, he thought. “Trouble of some sort ahead … or dispatch couriers.”
“It could be both,” suggested Zhelan.
“You’re cheerful,” said Quaeryt sardonically.
“It is Bovaria, sir.”
“You would remind me of that.” Quaeryt laughed.
In less than half a quint, the lead scout had reined up-just after Quaeryt ordered a halt.
“Sir! Three Telaryn riders headed this way. We saw them as we came over that rise and pulled back. They didn’t see us. They kept riding, anyway.”
“Were there any riders behind them?” asked Quaeryt. “A squad? A company?”
“Didn’t see any, sir. No road dust behind them, either.”
“Good. Scouts, move back of the head of the column.” Quaeryt turned in the saddle. “Undercaptains. Khalis! Raise a concealment shield across the road so that it looks empty. Elsior, stay and support Khalis. Lhandor, you come with me. Major, send a man back to request Subcommander Calkoran join you. I’ll need five rankers to follow us. They’ll have to stay behind us so the riders won’t see them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Quaeryt gestured to Khalis, then raised his own concealment shield as he urged the gelding forward at a fast trot, in order to be as close to the rise in the road as possible, just in case the Telaryn riders from the north saw dust or something else that would cause them to turn once they rode over the low rise whose crest was still a good two hundred yards ahead. Five rankers from first company fell in behind Quaeryt and Lhandor.
“Do you think they’ll try to ride away, sir?” asked Lhandor.
“Don’t you?”
After a moment the undercaptain nodded. “They’ll have been given some believable reason to avoid any other Telaryn forces. Just like the other courier.”
Quaeryt and his small party had covered a little over a hundred yards when he caught sight of a rider in a Telaryn uniform, then another. “Off the road … on me,” he ordered quietly, but firmly. “We’ll try to let them pass, so that they’re caught between us and first company.” With that, Quaeryt guided the gelding off the road and turned him to face the road, his head about two yards from the outer edge of the shoulder. “A line along the road, even with me.”
Once the five were lined up, Quaeryt turned to Lhandor. “You’ve practiced putting shields around others, right?”
“Yes, sir … if they’re not too far away.”
“I may need some help with that.”
“I can do that, sir.”
“Good. Quiet now.”
Quaeryt and his men waited. In a sense, he could see that the scene would have looked surreal to an observer, at least one who could have seen through the concealment shields. Seven men in Telaryn uniforms lined up on the east side of the road, the woods at their backs, facing the river concealed largely by the high undergrowth on the west side of the road, while a courier and two escorts rode south, oblivious to those waiting and watching.
The dispatch courier frowned as he neared where Quaeryt and his men waited behind their concealment shields. Abruptly, less than five yards from Quaeryt, he reined up and studied the road. Then he shook his head. “I don’t like this. There’s something here. It looks like tracks on the road. Riders heading into the woods over there.”