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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

Treachery's Tools (62 page)

BOOK: Treachery's Tools
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In early afternoon, when the imagers, including himself, were tired, but not totally exhausted, he went looking for Maurek since he hadn't heard from either the commander or the marshal. This time, he found Maurek leaving the mess area.

Maurek spoke first. “Good afternoon, Maitre. I saw you were working your imagers this morning.” He paused. “Some of what you were working on seemed … ah … fundamental.”

“It was. Imagers are highly trained to work as individuals. We seldom work as groups. That's required … infrequently, while other skills are required continually.”

“Hadn't thought about that.”

“Marshal Wilkorn and I talked last night…”

“He told me about your suggestions, and his modifications. The idea sounds like it should work. I haven't decided which company to use.” Maurek smiled. “I'm thinking of Captain Weidyn's company. He's worked with you before, and he reported on those events favorably.”

“We'd be more than happy to work again with the captain and his company,” replied Alastar.

“I'll inform the captain that he'll be reporting to you until further notice. We would appreciate your informing either me or the marshal of any evolutions you plan before beginning them. That's so that we have an idea of where you'll be and what you have in mind … since I understand that where imagers are involved, one may not see all that is happening.”

“I'll report any independent action we take.”

“I appreciate that, Maitre.”

“Do we have any idea where the rebel forces might be? The marshal said he didn't expect them until around midday tomorrow.”

“We still don't have any reports.” Maurek frowned. “We sent scouts south of Caluse yesterday. They should have returned by midday. They haven't.”

“You think they were ambushed?”

“There were four of them—they work in two-man teams. There aren't any clouds in that direction. The water level in the river is down a little, not up. It's possible that they'll be back shortly, and it may be that the rebels are moving more deliberately than we thought. They do have almost a regiment of High Holders' forces, and they're not used to army evolutions.”

“You're still concerned,” offered Alastar.

“I am. If they're not back by fifth glass, I'll be worrying that they ran into a larger advance force.” The commander shook his head. “They were experienced men. If they ran into trouble, at least one of them should have been able to escape. If one didn't, that could be a real worry.”

“Do you have other scouts headed that way?” asked Alastar.

“I sent out a full squad early this morning. They're scouting both the river road and the side roads and looking into ways that Aestyn might send troopers to try to flank us.”

“Like the lane we looked into?”

“And anything else. After dealing with the pirates along the Southern Gulf, he's had more experience than any of us with ambushes and unusual maneuvers or tactics. I did insist that some of the scouts lay well back and report if anything happened to their comrades.” His mouth curled into a wry smile. “Complete information is best, but I made the point that incomplete information was far better than no information at all.”

“Especially since we have no information at all at the moment.”

“That's another worry.”

“You do have more than a few,” agreed Alastar.

“You can expect Captain Weidyn before too long.” Maurek glanced to the south.

Alastar took the hint. “Thank you. We appreciate your assigning a veteran captain. I'll let my imagers know.”

After Maurek headed south along the road, past the various companies, Alastar headed back to find Cyran and Akoryt. Unsurprisingly, they were standing in the shade of an ancient oak that dominated a wooded patch some twenty yards from where the imagers mounts were tethered. Given the bright and hot harvest afternoon sunlight, he couldn't say that he blamed them.

“I met with Commander Maurek a little while ago. We'll be working with Captain Weidyn again. I imagine it won't be too long before he arrives. He's a very solid officer. We couldn't do better.”

Cyran and Akoryt both nodded.

Alastar wasn't in the least surprised when Captain Weidyn appeared striding along the edge of the stone-paved river road less than half a quint later.

Weidyn stopped a yard or so from Alastar, inclined his head. “Maitres, Fifth Company reporting.”

“It's good to see you again, Captain,” replied Alastar. “We have a plan, but it will take both imagers and your men to implement it.”

“Commander Maurek said you had an idea for reducing the number of rebels before we met in a full battle.”

“We do. We replaced a ruined bridge in order to gain access to a lane that parallels the river road…” Alastar went on to explain.

When he finished outlining both the terrain and the proposed plan of attack, Weidyn nodded, then said, “Begging your pardon, sir, but while I trust your judgment on this, I'd feel that we could do this better if one of my senior squad leaders and I rode out and looked over that lane.”

Alastar refrained from smiling at the way Weidyn had phrased his concerns without ever seeming to impugn his own assessment. “That's an excellent idea. I might suggest that one of the imagers accompany you and that you do that immediately. If you feel that another tactic might be superior, we'll need to make changes, the sooner the better. If not, then I'd prefer any tracks on the road not be too recent when the rebel scouts appear. I'd assume there's a chance they'll scout the lane as well … although they might not if the locals in that hamlet tell them that the bridge is out.”

“I appreciate the offer of an imager, sir. That way we could move faster with fewer men. We'll meet him … or her … here in a quint, if that's satisfactory?”

“That will be fine. It will likely be Arion. He's a senior maitre. He has very strong shields.”

“Thank you, sir. By your leave?”

Alastar nodded. “I'll look forward to hearing what you have to say … and any recommendations you may have.”

After Weidyn strode away, Akoryt looked to Alastar. “He doesn't totally trust your judgment, does he?”

“He shouldn't,” replied Alastar. “I'm an aging imager who's never been in a war or trained for one. More important, he might just see something I overlooked. He spent some time as a squad leader digging out pirates from the Sud Swamp. You'd better have Arion get ready. Weidyn will be here when he says.”

While Akoryt went to tell Arion of his task, Alastar imaged a simple wooden chair with very short legs, then eased it against the trunk of the oak and settled into it. He was so tired that he dropped into a doze deep enough that he didn't even hear Arion and Weidyn leave.

He woke more than a glass later, feeling less tired, but somewhat stiffer. Walking up and down the road helped with the stiffness, and some more of the bitter lager cleared his head, enough so that he felt considerably better when Weidyn, the squad leader, and Arion returned at roughly two quints past fourth glass.

Weidyn dismounted, handed his mount's reins to the squad leader, and walked to join Alastar. Arion turned his mount toward the tielines for the imagers.

Weidyn's face held a slight smile.

Better than a frown or an impassive expression.
“What do you think, Captain?”

“It's a good plan … if you can keep the squads concealed. There are some changes that might make it more effective.”

“I'll have five imagers with me. That will be more than enough for concealment. We won't be able to offer as much shielding as we did at High Holder Laevoryn's. We could do that there because we covered the narrow front of the column. With your men spread and mounted … that will be harder, but their muzzle flashes and any smoke won't be seen.”

Weidyn nodded thoughtfully. “Any shielding is better than we'd get in the regular order of battle.”

“What are your suggestions?”

“If the situation allows in the first ambush—the southern one—we should wait until the vanguard is partly past us…”

Alastar listened as Weidyn laid out his suggestions, then replied, “I'd agree with all of them, except for the last one. Not that it's not an excellent idea tactically, but a concealment only affects the eyes, and attempting to wait that long and then move everyone would create enough noise to give the rebels a better idea of where we are. Also, once the company moves, so does the concealment, and that leaves dust and tracks visible, which point to where our forces are. Both of those will put too much strain on the imagers, and they won't be able to hold that large a concealment and any shielding at all.”

Weidyn nodded. “I had not considered that.”

“You wouldn't have known. For obvious reasons, especially given how few imagers there are, we tend not to let others know of our limitations.” Alastar kept his tone wry.

Weidyn smiled, if briefly.

“We need to discuss one other matter, Captain,” Alastar said quietly, moving away from the others.

Weidyn followed. “Yes, sir.”

“You know we're greatly outnumbered.”

“Three to one, I've heard.”

“I don't know if you heard, but the brown-shirts that your men fought at High Holder Laevoryn's estate had been using special bullets to kill students and young imagers.”

“Sir?”

“If the bullet isn't immediately removed, within a fraction of a quint, whoever is shot with one will almost certainly die in less than two quints, possibly sooner.”

“The rebels are using those kinds of bullets?”

“No, not any longer.” Alastar paused. “It may be worse than that. We have a thousand cartridges like those. I mentioned this to Marshal Wilkorn. He thought those cartridges would be most useful to whatever company supported us in this attack. The effect would be less in an all-out battle.”

For a long moment, Weidyn did not speak. “The commander mentioned special bullets. He didn't say they were poisoned.”

“The poison's inside the bullet. It won't hurt your men—except they shouldn't chew the bullets. I've heard that sometimes troopers have done that.”

“I've kept my men from doing that. The Gulf pirates sometimes did.” Weidyn paused. “More than sometimes.”

Alastar waited.

Finally, Weidyn spoke. “Might I ask what you think of the bullets, sir?”

“I don't like the idea of using them. I wouldn't even have considered it as a possibility until the High Holders' brown-shirts started using them to kill students and imagers. Yet the fact that they would use them tells me that they'll do anything to overthrow the rex, suppress the factors, and destroy the Collegium. If that happens, almost everyone in Solidar will end up living at the pleasure of one High Holder or another. Given that … and the fact that we're outnumbered three to one, I don't see much of a choice.” He paused, just slightly, then went on. “If the rebels were farther from L'Excelsis, we could keep fighting delaying actions. But as I see it, they have to win, and win quickly, and they'll keep pressing if we withdraw, and a withdrawal could so easily turn into a rout.”

Weidyn nodded slowly. “Some of that I'd thought about. The rest of it makes sense. I don't like it, either. It's a choice between the Namer of the night, and the Namer of the day.” His laugh was sardonically bitter. “Best we go with the bullets and the Namer of the day.” After a moment, he said, “I'd prefer to tell the men that the bullets are special and extra-powerful, and to make every shot count because we only have ten cartridges of those for each man.”

“That's true enough.”
So far as it goes.

“If it's all right with you, sir, I'll have the squad leader who's the company armorer get the cartridges tomorrow morning after I've had a chance to brief all the squad leaders.”

“That makes sense to me, and you've got much more experience in dealing with troopers than I do. Thank you, Captain.”

“Appreciate your plain words, sir. Thank
you
.”

Alastar watched as the captain turned and left.
How many more distasteful decisions will there be?
The way matters were going, he already knew.

Too many.

 

40

A chilly breeze came up on Solayi night, and by Lundi morning, mist and fog filled the air. While the higher area where the imagers were camped was clear, the lands to the west were mist-shrouded, and patches of fog and mist wreathed parts of the road to the south. The sky overhead was clear, and Alastar thought that the sun would burn off the fog by midmorning if not sooner. While the teamsters, who were doubling as cooks, prepared breakfast, Alastar went to find Wilkorn or Maurek, and instead found a trooper looking for him.

“Maitre, sir, the marshal would appreciate a few moments of your time.…”

“Lead on,” replied Alastar, deciding against mentioning he'd been looking for Wilkorn.

Both the marshal and commander were in the command tent when Alastar slipped inside, standing and looking at a large map laid out on a camp table. Both turned immediately.

“You were looking for me, Marshal?”

“We were. Maurek told you yesterday that we hadn't heard from the first scouts we sent out. We still haven't. The second set of scouts hasn't reported back yet, either. I've posted full squads three milles to the south on all roads and lanes that might lead to us. I'd be interested in hearing what you make of that.”

Maurek nodded.

“By what I make of that, are you asking if my missing imagers might have something to do with it?”

“You have mentioned concealments, and I can't see any other way that so many scouts would fail to report.”

“Certainly, one of the two missing imagers is capable of handling a large enough concealment to hide several squads—if they were fairly close together—but he doesn't have the capability of being in more than one place at a time. If the rebels could figure out where your scouts were headed and there was enough time … I suppose it's possible he could have thrown up a concealment that allowed the scouts to pass a force that would then have them surrounded and their escape blocked.”

BOOK: Treachery's Tools
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