“… early apples … better than potions for you know what…”
“… cherries, fresh cherries…”
“… just what we need … more Telaryn troopers around…”
“… wonder where they’ve been … didn’t come over the bridge…”
“… coulda been delivering a message to DaFool…”
“… careful … playing up to the high ones…”
“… scarves for your woman, scarves for your lady…”
Once they had ridden through the square, the road narrowed into a street, largely fronted with shops for the next few blocks, then small dwellings … and then a few blocks of larger houses, before they rode past another block or so of smaller dwellings that dwindled into scattered cots. At that point, when he thought no one was looking Quaeryt raised a concealment shield. “I’ve raised a concealment. If any troopers ride toward us, they won’t see us. So we’ll need to move to the right shoulder of the road.”
“Yes, sir.”
After they had ridden another hundred yards or so, they came to a stretch of the road where there were no cots. On the west side of the road were tilled fields, filled with alternating crops, including beans, wheat corn, some maize. On the east side, there was what appeared to be a hunting part, with little undergrowth and trees with greater separation than in a natural forest. Fiancryt lands, thought Quaeryt.
Before long, Quaeryt saw riders in Telaryn green riding at what looked to be a fast trot, three of them, likely a dispatch rider and two escorts. Since they did not have spare mounts, they were most likely traveling a comparatively short distance, perhaps to the regiment patrolling south of Rivages on the east side of the river or to High Holder Paliast or, less likely, to Lady Tyrena D’Ryel-Alte. Quaeryt eased the gelding to the shoulder, and the others followed his example.
The three rode past as if Quaeryt’s party did not exist, which was fine with Quaeryt.
After riding another mille, Quaeryt saw the stone wall of Fiancryt, and in another two quints, he turned the gelding onto the path along the south wall, occasionally standing in the stirrups to see over the wall in order to locate a place where trees or bushes blocked a direct view of that section of the wall from the hold house and its outbuildings. Roughly two hundred yards off the west river road, Quaeryt found such a spot, where a grove of some sort of ornamental topiary was flanked by two small flower gardens. From what he could determine, no one was in the gardens, and there were no sounds of voices, not that he would have expected such during the morning in a hold largely occupied by Telaryn troopers.
He gestured to the others and reined up. “First, we need to image a smooth opening in the wall, wide enough for a single mount and rider. Khalis?”
“Yes, sir.” Khalis looked at the wall, and after a moment an opening appeared, with a faint hint of mist vanishing from the smooth stone on each side of the gap.
“Now we need a gate, hung on two sturdy iron gate hinges drilled into the stone. It should look old. Lhandor.”
In moments, what looked like a postern gate filled the space.
Quaeryt smiled. “After we ride through, Elsior, we’ll need a latch on the other side.”
“Oh … I’m sorry, sir,” said Lhandor.
“That’s all right.” Quaeryt looked to Ghaelyn. “Undercaptain, you and the men are to wait here among the trees until you have word … if you can, avoid detection. If you cannot, ride off and return later. If you have no word by fourth glass of the afternoon, you’re to return to Major Zhelan and report that. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
Quaeryt extended his shields enough that they pushed open the gate as he rode through it, still holding the concealment. He glanced around, surveying the area, but it was deserted and he moved forward to allow the other three to enter the hold grounds. He waited while Elsior imaged a proper latch with a heavy catch before he spoke.
“Now, what we’ll do is ride as close as we can, under concealment. When I order it, most likely in a corner of a courtyard, hopefully near a stable, Khalis, you and Elsior raise personal concealments. You’ll have to tie your mounts and walk away to follow us. Lhandor, you won’t raise a concealment. I’ll drop the overall concealment and immediately head for a junior officer. Lhandor, you’re to accompany me until you get to a position where you can raise a concealment without much notice, but all three of you are to follow me, but at a distance, and under concealment. Follow me into the hold house, but do not enter any chamber I enter. They could be traps, and I might need help from outside.”
“Yes, sir, but…?” Lhandor looked puzzled.
“I’m a senior officer. I wouldn’t show up without a junior officer. Appearing without an escort would make everyone suspicious. What will happen”-You hope-“is that everyone will see that I’m properly accompanied, and when you vanish from sight, that you’ve been told to wait somewhere.”
All three undercaptains nodded.
As the four rode out from behind the topiary and across the meadow, largely clover, Quaeryt noted, toward the hold buildings, Quaeryt concentrated on trying to identify which buildings were likely what. The hold house itself was one of the larger ones Quaeryt had seen in Bovaria, built of the same gray stone as the wall and rising three stories. Unlike Seliadyn’s hold, or that of Daefol, the hold house showed no signs of fortification or the like, with comparatively wide windows on all levels. The plan of the main house was simple, with a square central section and two wings extending from the main section, running roughly north-south, parallel to the River Aluse, some three hundred yards to the east. The main house was situated on a rise some twenty or twenty-five yards above the riverbank. There was a courtyard at the south end of the main house, almost directly ahead of Quaeryt, if several hundred yards away, but nothing directly behind it so as not to block the view of the river. While he could not be certain, it appeared as though there was also another courtyard on the north end. Several low buildings formed an arc away from the south wing of the hold house, possibly a guesthouse, two stables, and two barns, plus a low shed. There was also a small pier on the river with an adjoining pavilion. The pavilion was vacant.
Quaeryt rode slowly across the meadow angling the gelding toward the rear of the south courtyard, that section where troopers, and officers, were more likely to assume someone there had been there for a time. When they neared the rear of what was clearly a stable, Quaeryt said, “Keep your voices low if you have to speak.”
Then he rode through the paved space between the stable and the barn to the east of it, reined up just short of the courtyard, and dismounted. “Lhandor, you dismount.”
Lhandor nodded.
“Concealments, Khalis, Elsior.”
The pair acknowledged his order by vanishing from his sight.
Quaeryt led the gelding around the corner and into the courtyard toward the nearest stable boy, noting that there was a hitching rail just a bit farther on.
“If you’d stable him,” Quaeryt said with a smile, “somewhere you can find him in a glass.”
The stable boy looked up at Quaeryt, took in the commander’s insignia, and nodded. “Yes sir.”
“Also, my undercaptain’s mount, if you would?”
“I can do that, sir.”
“Thank you.” Quaeryt offered a pleasant smile and then began to walk toward the hold house, not rushing, but not being leisurely, either. After he’d walked a good ten yards, he glanced back, smiling as he saw Khalis’s and Elsior’s mounts tied to the railing.
Lhandor kept pace with Quaeryt, just at his shoulder, but a half step back.
When they reached the side entrance to the hold house, the trooper standing there glanced at Quaeryt’s insignia, but said nothing as Quaeryt stepped through the doorway, followed by Lhandor, who paused as if brushing something from his eye and held the door for several moments before leaving it ajar and hurrying to catch up to Quaeryt, murmuring, “They’re inside, sir.”