“If they were Telaryn imagers,” agreed Quaeryt. “We never did find Kharst’s imagers, the ones that survived.”
“You think they’ve thrown in with the submarshal?”
“It’s the only explanation I can think of.”
“Sir, you can’t just walk in there,” protested Khalis. “It’s a trap.”
“Then we’ll have to spring it without getting caught.”
“You’ll have to take first company,” insisted Zhelan. “The men will be safer. Myskyl wouldn’t have any compunction about killing a hundred Khellans.”
“Eighty-nine, now,” said Calkoran.
“We’ll all leave here tomorrow … early,” said Quaeryt. “Very early. Then we’ll find a woodland or the like where most of the companies can wait, but be ready to move as necessary.” If necessary.
Quaeryt went on to explain what he had in mind. He also hoped that whatever the kitchen fixed, it wouldn’t be unpalatable. His stomach was growling.
46
After sleeping on a makeshift straw pallet on Meredi night, Quaeryt was up early on Jeudi morning and making certain that both companies were out of Folan well before seventh glass. As the scouts had reported the day before, the west river road north from the hold was far better and, in less than a glass and a half, they had covered a good six milles, when the scouts Quaeryt had sent out earlier, accompanied by Lhandor, riding a spare mount, to provide concealment when necessary, returned to report.
Quaeryt did not call an immediate halt until they reached what was either a large woodlot or a less than well-managed hunting park, most likely not part of Fiancryt, where the troopers would be hidden from casual view. Then he gathered the imagers and the officers so they could hear what the scouts had found.
“How did it go?” asked Quaeryt.
The squad leader smiled. “Just as you thought, sir. When we went through the town … well, the west part of Rivages, no one even looked at us. The edge of the city proper is less than a half mille ahead. You can see that most of the city is on the east side of the river. Barely a town on this side. Not all that prosperous on this side, either. We rode past the bridge. The High Holder’s lands start, it looks like, another two milles north, and the gates are maybe a mille farther.”
“Did you see any patrols? Did they see you?”
“We saw two patrols heading out, sir, but the undercaptain did whatever hid us once we left the town proper area.” The scout turned to Lhandor.
“Yes, sir. I thought we could run into troopers anytime. So when we went into a shaded place where the trees shadowed the road, I raised a concealment. That way, anyone who might be watching would just think they lost us in the shadows.”
“Good thought. Tell us about Fiancryt.”
“It’s on the river. The road swings west a bit around the buildings and grounds. There’s a low stone wall around the whole hold house and all the outbuildings. Some of the parts of the wall look new. There are two iron gates off the river road. One looks to be for most folks. The gates are open, but there’s a full squad stationed right at the gate. There’s a trade gate, or maybe for supplies, south of the main gate. It’s chained and locked, but there are some guards there, too.”
“Is there a lane or road along the wall where it heads toward the river?” asked Quaeryt.
“More like a path, sir. We took it a ways. There aren’t any gates there, not even posterns.”
“Is there any other way into the grounds?”
“No, sir,” answered the squad leader. “Leastwise not from the paths or roads, not without climbing the wall, or by boat from the river.”
Quaeryt looked to Lhandor. “What do you think?”
“There are places, I think, where we could image a postern in place, one wide enough for a single mount and rider. Without too much effort. The wall is not that high or thick.”
“I like that idea,” replied Quaeryt with a laugh. After a moment he said, “You’d best get your own mount. We need to head out.”
“I can’t say as I like this, sir,” said Zhelan.
“We’ve been over this already,” replied Quaeryt. “I don’t like it any better than you do, but anything else is worse.”
“I know, sir. That’s why Ghaelyn will be commanding the four rankers accompanying you.”
“He’s the undercaptain,” said Quaeryt.
“He insists, sir. He says it has to be done right, and that means he wants to make sure it is. The only way that’s possible is if he’s there.”
Ghaelyn nodded and added, “Yes, sir.”
“Imager undercaptains,” said Quaeryt, “I appreciate your willingness to accompany me, but I want you to understand that I cannot order you to come with me.”
“You could, sir, and it would be within your rights and our duty,” replied Khalis with a broad grin, “but you won’t. That’s why we’re coming.” He looked to Lhandor and Elsior.
Both nodded.
“Besides … even if we hadn’t promised, we’d be coming,” added Lhandor, “because you have to succeed … or we’ll all end up dead or exiled.”
“Or like in Antiago,” added Elsior.
Quaeryt looked to Calkoran and Zhelan. “If we don’t come back or if Ghaelyn and the rankers come back alone, then you know what to do.”
“I don’t much care for that, either, sir, begging your pardon,” replied Zhelan.
“Neither do I,” replied Quaeryt, “but Lord Bhayar and Lady Vaelora need to know.”
“Yes, sir.”
With a quick gesture to Ghaelyn, Quaeryt said, “Let’s head out.”
After waiting for a mule cart to pass and get a good hundred yards away, headed north toward Rivages, presumably to market for something, the eight riders moved out from cover and onto the road, slightly covered by a blurring concealment that Quaeryt dropped once they were all on the road.
“Sir?” ventured Khalis, from where he rode beside Quaeryt.
“Yes?”
“I know you think that if … well, if your plan doesn’t work … that Lord Bhayar will need to deal with the marshal and submarshal in order to hold Lydar together. I don’t see how that will work without the Collegium.”
Quaeryt smiled wryly. “I don’t either. But I’ve been wrong before, and I could be wrong now.” You likely just won’t be around to see it this time if you are. “And Lord Bhayar needs to know in order to have a chance to make it work. He can always disavow anything we do if we fail. After all, he didn’t give us precise instructions. He just ordered me to find out why he wasn’t getting any dispatches and see if we could do something about it, and send word back if we couldn’t.”
“You don’t care much for the submarshal, do you, sir?”
“What I feel doesn’t matter. What matters is whether he’s loyal to Lord Bhayar.” Quaeryt stopped talking as Ghaelyn led the small party of nine around the mule cart.
The man leading the mule glanced up, gave the smallest of headshakes, and resolutely looked at the road ahead.
So far as Quaeryt was concerned, that was just fine. As he rode along the west river road toward Rivages, and Fiancryt, to the north, he went over his rough plans again. He had thought about entering Rivages and Fiancryt under the cover of darkness, but he’d dismissed that for a number of reasons, including the fact that it would have been much harder to find Myskyl and the others he sought.
In another quint, they were at the outskirts of the western part of Rivages, with neat brick and timber-plastered cots, some with thatch roofs, but most with fired flat tile roofs. The shutters were largely oiled, rather than painted. The road remained a graveled dirt way for another two hundred yards until they came to a square, paved in yellowish brick. A narrow timber bridge crossed the River Aluse, its causeway ending at the eastern edge of the square. A varied array of carts, small stalls, booths, tables, and peddlers were lined up around the edges of the square, except in front of the long and low inn on the west side.
As they rode past, Quaeryt ignored the efforts of those selling … and a few comments as well.