Fairhaven rising, p.35
Fairhaven Rising, page 35
After stabling their mounts, Taelya and Kaeryla went to find their quarters—a small room containing two platforms without pallets and some wall pegs, as well as a tin pitcher and basin, a chipped chamber pot … and nothing else.
“I hadn’t thought I’d need the second blanket inside,” said Kaeryla, “if only for padding.”
Taelya glanced at the unglazed window with its inner wooden shutters. “This inside is more like outside. I wouldn’t want to be here in winter. At least we have a room. The troopers just have rows and rows of platforms side by side.”
“The Viscount wouldn’t send troopers here in winter, would he?”
“Although we’ve never met the Viscount, if he’s like most rulers, he’ll do whatever he thinks is necessary. The real question is whether it’s for his personal gain or whims or for the best interests of the people he rules.”
“You’re sounding like Father,” said Kaeryla, smiling.
“Who do you think told me that?” returned Taelya dryly, adding, “We should hurry so that we’re not the last ones to dinner. Especially if the submarshal is going to be the senior officer at whatever passes for an officers’ mess.”
“I’ll get the water. I saw where the hand pump is.”
“They actually have one?”
Kaeryla nodded and picked up the pitcher before hurrying out of the room, while Taelya checked and reorganized her gear, somewhat disarrayed from bivouacking. Then, after Kaeryla returned with the water, Taelya washed up and fetched more water, while Kaeryla cleaned up her gear.
When Taelya, Kaeryla, and the other Fairhaven undercaptains arrived at the chamber designated for the officers’ mess, Taelya could see that the designation was an overstatement. Two trestle tables sat on an uneven brick floor, with backless benches on each side. The shutters swung open on the unglazed windows in the walls. More than a few flies circled around the room, dimly illuminated by the open windows, because the valley itself was in shadows.
The majers stood by the small table, while the captains circled the upper end of the long table. Taelya posted herself opposite the middle of the table.
“How long do you think we’ll stand around?” asked Valchar.
“Only until the submarshal arrives,” replied Sheralt. “It shouldn’t be long. All the other officers are here. But he’ll want to make everyone wait for a little bit. He seems to be one who wants to remind others who’s in charge.”
When Akkyld did arrive, flanked by Commander Laklaan, all the officers fell silent and stiffened to attention. After only a moment, if a rather long one, the submarshal declared, “As you were. Informal seating.”
Almost as soon as everyone was seated, troopers appeared. The first group placed a tin beaker in front of each officer, followed by a second who filled the beakers with ale. Then the troopers placed a large tin bowl filled with a steaming stew-like mixture before each officer. Last came baskets of bread.
Taelya and Kaeryla found themselves surrounded, with Sheralt seated on Taelya’s left and Valchar on Kaeryla’s right. Across from them were Drakyn and Maakym, with the Certan undercaptains farther down the table on both sides, and the Certan captains and Gustaan taking over the part of the table close to the small table holding the senior officers, all of whom were majers except for the submarshal and Commander Laklaan.
Taelya’s first and small mouthful of the meal, for she’d decided that it couldn’t be called dinner, tasted mainly like a crude, excessively salty version of some bastard version of burhka, with a faint aftertaste of moldy cheese. The stringy chunks of meat could have been anything. The second mouthful didn’t taste even that good.
“This tastes worse than brinn bitters,” murmured Kaeryla.
“At least it’s hot,” said Sheralt, adding, “I have tasted worse.”
“Not in a long time, I’d wager,” countered Valchar.
Valchar’s reply surprised Taelya, because the hubbub of various conversations made it hard for her to hear him, and Sheralt was even farther away, but then, maybe he’d been looking at Sheralt and concentrating.
“That’s true,” admitted Sheralt.
“When was that?” asked Taelya.
“Back when I was working as a cargo hand on the ship that brought me to Lydiar. Most of the biscuits had weevils. They were tastier than the biscuits.”
Taelya winced, even though she knew how spoiled she had been by her mother’s cooking.
“Some of the hardtack will be like that if it takes through the summer to defeat the Prefect’s forces,” said Valchar.
Taelya had no doubts of that. She tried not to dwell on the taste of whatever the stuff in the bowl was as she slogged through it, just glad that the bread was merely hard and stale.
“We might be able to have fresh meat in Gallos,” added Valchar, “if we can bring down some mountain goats or some Gallosian sheep.”
“I’d rather not be there that long,” replied Sheralt, “even close to that long.”
“I’m just saying…” protested Valchar.
“We know,” said Kaeryla warmly.
By the time the meal was over and the submarshal and commander had left, a cool and chill breeze blew through the open windows, one strong enough to keep the flies at bay, but one cold enough that Taelya knew that she’d need a blanket to be even halfway close to comfortable in the drafty quarters where she’d be sleeping, and given the gaps and cracks in the wooden shutters, even with them closed, there would be drafts.
XXXVII
To the west of Relugh the road steepened and narrowed so that it could barely hold a wagon and a mount side by side and with shoulders less than a yard on each edge. The packed clay and gravel surface was often uneven, and rutted in places where rain runoff had cut across the road proper. After ten glasses of riding on fourday, the combined force finally reached an encampment site some twenty-five kays closer to Passera. That night, Taelya was definitely grateful for the warmer riding jacket and two blankets, but she was tired enough that she slept, if less than comfortably.
By noon on sixday, the combined force reached the top of Middle Pass, only a few hundred yards lower than where the still snow-covered upper slopes began and stretched upward for thousands of yards. As a low point between the mountains and the only pass across in the Easthorns for more than two hundred kays to the north and close to a hundred to the south, the crest of the road was also what amounted to a wind funnel, and Taelya was more than happy when, several glasses later, they had descended below the worst of the winds. She was less happy when they reached the next encampment site, a boulder-strewn valley on the north side of the road.
“At least there’s no snow on the ground,” she said to Varais.
“There’s never that much snow in Gallos,” replied the squad leader. “There’s not that much rain, either. The Easthorns stop most of the storms coming from the east or northeast, and the Westhorns do the same on the west side. That’s also why there’s so much snow on the Roof of the World.”
“Didn’t you ever get tired of the snow in Westwind?”
“I grew up with it. It was part of life.” Varais’s voice was matter-of-fact. “Just like magery is a part of your life.”
“But snow affects everyone.”
“And, sooner or later, magery doesn’t, ser?”
The quietly voiced question took Taelya aback, and she didn’t speak for several moments. “I never thought of it that way, but you’re right. I’ve always thought of magery as affecting a very few people a great deal, either by healing them or … even killing them, but … what happens to those few affects even more people.”
“The magery of your family is why I came to Fairhaven, and it’s why we’re riding to Gallos to take a town from one bastard ruler to give to another. If we’re successful, the first bastard, sooner or later, will try to take it back. And, if we’re not successful, both bastards will be unhappy with us.”
Cynical as Varais was, Taelya definitely agreed.
The evening meal was little more than hard bread and cheese with cold mutton slices and water. Taelya was more than careful to make certain she used enough order and chaos to clean the water.
Not all that much after the full darkness of night fell across the encampment, Taelya was asleep, tired not just from riding, but also from quietly practicing multiple containments and carrying heavy shields, as she had every day since leaving Fairhaven, knowing that the more she could do with her magery, the better her chances.
In the darkness … something touched Taelya’s shields, and she was instantly awake, her senses reaching out through the blackness to find four figures standing less than a yard from her. “There’s something stopping my blade…” murmured one figure, a voice Taelya’s sleep-fogged senses didn’t know whether she should recognize.
She cleared her throat and sat up. “My shields are stopping your blade. Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Easing the blanket back, she stood, if barefoot, anchoring her shields to the rock below.
“I beg your pardon,” replied a taller figure standing back slightly. “We were just following orders.”
“Whose orders?” snapped Taelya.
“The commander’s orders, Undercaptain.”
Taelya finally could make out that the second speaker was a captain, if one not that much older than she was, at least from what she sensed of his order/chaos flows. “And why does the commander need to know how I sleep?”
“I wouldn’t know, Undercaptain. I don’t question his orders.” The captain turned to go, then stopped, halted in place.
“I do,” said a second voice, that of Kaeryla. “And you should too.” She released the containment.
The captain stumbled. “I don’t question him, and you don’t, either.”
Taelya pulled on her boots and said quietly, “You’re very fortunate that you didn’t end up as a pile of ashes, trying to wake a sleeping mage. But that just might be why the submarshal chose a relatively junior captain. Good night, Captain.”
As the four retreated, Taelya bent down and murmured to Kaeryla, “Stay here. I’m going to follow them under a concealment.” With that she raised a concealment and moved through that darkness after the four, slowly closing the gap between them.
“… how were you to know that you can’t touch them, ser, even when they’re sleeping?”
“… uppity little bitch … we’ll see how she does when she faces real Gallosian mages.”
“Yes, ser.”
Taelya had to concentrate intently to follow the four as they moved through the rows of sleeping troopers toward the single tent in the encampment—that of the submarshal.
When the captain neared the outer ring of sentries around the tent, he stopped for a moment and said to the three troopers, “Wait here.”
“Yes, ser.”
Knowing where the captain was headed, Taelya eased around and between the sentries and was standing close to the front of the tent, still under her concealment, when the captain neared the sentries directly before the tent.
“Captain Rulfaast, reporting as ordered.”
“I’ll tell the commander, ser.”
In moments, another man stepped outside. “Join the other sentries for the moment, troopers.”
“Yes, ser.”
Once the pair had moved away, one coming within cubits of Taelya, the commander asked quietly, “What did you find out, Captain?”
“You can’t touch them even when they’re asleep … and it wakes them quickly. She knew I was a captain in moments.”
“But she didn’t wake until when?”
“When Boddkyr hit her shields with his blade.”
“She didn’t seem to be in pain? There wasn’t any trace of fire when his blade touched her shields?”
“No, ser. She was angry, though.”
“That’s not surprising, from what I’ve heard. But she didn’t wake up until your man touched her shield?”
“No, ser.”
“That means we don’t have to worry about anyone molesting them, or Gallosian assassins creeping around. Thank you, Captain.”
“Yes, ser. My pleasure and duty, ser.”
Despite the commander’s words, with a element of truth in them, but a certain amount of chaos as well, Taelya had the feeling that he wasn’t really all that concerned about either molestation or assassination of sleeping mages.
By the time the captain returned to his men, Commander Laklaan had reentered the tent, and the pair of guards had returned to their previous post. Taelya listened intently, but Laklaan said nothing that she could hear, and after a short time she made her way back to where Kaeryla waited.
“What was that all about?”
“The commander wanted to know if anyone could touch us and what it took to wake us. He didn’t tell the captain why.”
“I don’t like that. What does it mean?”
“It could mean that he wanted to make sure that no one could force himself on either of us, or that we can’t be killed in our sleep. He did say something like that.”
“Why did the commander send out a captain in the dark? There’s more to it than that. There has to be,” insisted Kaeryla.
“But what?” At the moment, Taelya couldn’t think of what it might be … and she was still tired. “All we can do is sleep on it, and tell Gustaan about it in the morning.”
“If we can get back to sleep,” retorted Kaeryla quietly.
Somehow, after a time, Taelya drifted back into slumber, if restlessly.
XXXVIII
Late on eightday afternoon, the force that was to attack Passera neared the fortified Certan border post, situated on the east side of a narrow stream, opposite and across the water from the blackened ruins of what had likely been the Gallosian border post in less contentious times. Those ruins were considerably smaller than the Certan post, although what remained of the walls suggested they had been thick and more than five yards high. From the earlier briefing by Akkyld, Taelya knew that the Gallosians had thrown up a long line of earthworks less than a kay east of that part of Passera that occupied the east bank of the Passa River … and that the earthworks were less than five kays west of the stream that marked the border between the two lands.
The Certan border post itself was half the size of the enclosure at Relugh, but the walls were solid stone and looked to be a good six yards high. Even from where she rode some two kays away and thirty yards higher, Taelya could see that the enclosure and the buildings within it could easily hold the close to four battalions riding downhill toward it. She also could sense no recent chaos that was out of the ordinary.
“That’s a large post,” said Varais. “A lot went into building and supplying it, and they’ve destroyed the Gallosian post. The Gallosian post was much smaller. So why haven’t they been more successful?”
“They’ve pushed the Gallosians back into the town,” replied Taelya, adding dryly, “They just haven’t been as successful as the Prefect would like. He doesn’t control the river, and that’s what he wants.”
“They do have the better position here,” admitted Varais, “but I’d like to see the approaches to the town.”
“We’ll see them soon enough,” said Kaeryla.
As they drew nearer to the post, Taelya noted the simple timber bridge over the stream, a span of perhaps seven yards across a narrow gorge than dropped some four yards to the water below. The bridge was wide enough for two wagons, if barely, and had timber guardrails that looked as though they could easily break if a strong horse could careen into them.
Unlike the gates at Relugh, the post gates were closed and only swung open after the guards confirmed that the approaching force was from Jellico. Once they were inside the stone walls, troopers directed Second and Third Squads, and those who followed, past the first stone buildings and into a spacious and stone-paved rear courtyard. Taelya was reluctantly impressed by the courtyard, not only with the three stone-walled barracks buildings of two stories, but by the stables, sufficient to hold all the mounts.
The Certan cadre at the post, clearly having been briefed, swiftly directed the Fairhaven squads, then the Montgren companies, and finally the Certan battalions to predetermined stables, barracks, and quarters. In less than a glass, Taelya and Kaeryla stood inside a neat but spare and small chamber with two narrow pallet beds.
They’d barely stepped inside when Gustaan rapped on the door.
Kaeryla opened it.
The captain didn’t enter, but said, “I thought all of you should know that the submarshal has called a meeting of all the majers—and me—for fifth glass to discuss tomorrow’s evolutions. I suspect everyone will get to rest except for some of you.”
“And we’ll be doing some sort of reconnaissance?” asked Taelya.
“That’s my best guess. Either that or everyone gets to rest tomorrow, and you do recon on twoday.”
“That makes more sense,” declared Kaeryla. “The horses need rest, more like two days’ worth.”
“That’s all I have. I’ve already told Sheralt and Valchar. If the meeting’s over before dinner, I’ll be outside, and I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you,” replied Taelya.
Gustaan nodded, then turned.
Kaeryla closed the door and shook her head. “Someone’s in a hurry.”
“Not necessarily. They just might be organized. If they are, we’ll actually get rest tomorrow and recon duty on twoday. Anyway, there’s nothing we can do now but clean up a little and hope that what they serve is better than field rations or the slop we got at Relugh. I suspect it will be.”
“Optimist,” snorted Kaeryla.
“Realist. There’s a submarshal here, and this is a more important post. Most of the officers posted here won’t want him reporting badly on them. The ones at Relugh are just putting in time before getting a stipend. They looked sloppy, as though they couldn’t have cared less.”
