Treachery's Tools (66 page)

Alastar winced.

“That's not bad, Maitre. Between those two companies you faced in the hedgerow and what they threw at us here, they had at least a mounted battalion.”

“We must have killed … what…? Two companies?”

“More than three. Maybe four.”

Alastar had strong doubts that would happen again.

Luerryn turned his mount and eased away.

“Maitre? Thank you.” Seliora returned Alastar's first water bottle to him.

“You're welcome. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, sir. A little sore.”

Alastar turned his mount toward the orchard. Taurek and Khaelis immediately moved up beside him.

“Sir?” asked Khaelis.

“We need to see if we got the imager … if we can even determine that.”

The three imagers had to take a winding path through the bodies, and through the troopers scavenging for weapons and valuables. Alastar strengthened his shields as he neared the edge of the orchard, hoping no one armed was there, since he doubted what he had left of shields would resist more than a single shot or blow.

He could also smell smoke, most likely from the impact of bullets on wood or perhaps the white-hot needles that Taurek had imaged, but he didn't see any flames or black or gray smoke itself.

Although there was a good score of bodies in the area where the imager had been, all wore the green trooper uniforms with the crimson and black armbands, and Alastar didn't see a single face that remotely resembled either Bettaur or Ashkyr. He and the other two quickly checked the other bodies in the orchard and immediately in front of it, but saw no trace of one that could be identified as an imager before they finally rode back to the road.

Once there, he addressed all of his group. “We need to move to the front—what will be the front.” Then he turned the gray and started northward along the side of the road, noticing that some of the troopers were still hurriedly scavenging.

Akoryt held back and brought up the rear.

You can't do this very often … and not that soon again.
That thought went through Alastar's head more than once after the imagers re-formed behind the rearguard that had become the vanguard.

Before all that long, Luerryn was calling out the order, “Column! To the rear! Ride!” Then he eased his mount in beside Alastar, who said nothing, deciding to let the major do the talking.

Alastar took another swallow of lager from his remaining water bottle.

“Why wooden darts?” the major finally asked.

“Imaging wood takes much less effort than imaging iron. There were so many of the rebels. We needed more darts, and I wasn't certain we could keep imaging long enough if we did iron darts.”

“Did you get those imagers?”

“I have no idea. I never saw anyone wearing gray, but they could have been wearing regular trooper uniforms so that we couldn't pick them out.”
In that, they were likely smarter than you were.

“Do you really think you can ambush them? Their ambush didn't work all that well on us?”

“I'll have to think about that.”
That … and a lot of other things.

Alastar took another long swallow of lager. He hoped he'd feel better before too long.

At the top of the rise in the road, he looked back toward the hamlet. Thick smoke was rising from the orchard, and he could just barely make out flames.

Frig!

But there wasn't a thing he could do now.…

He took another swallow of lager.

 

42

Alastar's head had largely stopped throbbing by the time he and the imagers arrived back at camp just before third glass. After he unsaddled and groomed the gray, he made his way to Wilkorn's command tent, where he found Major Luerryn and Commander Maurek, but not the marshal. Maurek looked less than satisfied.

“Is there a problem?” asked Alastar.

“If I understand what Major Luerryn has reported, you routed a battalion of rebels, inflicted severe casualties, and then failed to pursue and eliminate them. Is that correct?”

“It is,” replied Alastar, deciding not to say more … not yet.

“They were routed, and you didn't pursue?” Maurek looked to Luerryn.

“It didn't seem advisable, sir.”

“When they were on the run? It didn't seem advisable?”

Alastar cleared his throat, loudly.

Maurek looked both surprised and annoyed. “Yes, Maitre?”

“The imagers accounted for a significant number of the rebel casualties and also provided a certain amount of protection to Major Luerryn's forces. By the time the rebels withdrew, not a single imager was capable of additional effort, and most could no longer provide even minimal protection for themselves.” That might have been stretching the truth slightly, Alastar felt, but only slightly.

Maurek's expression was puzzled.

Alastar refrained from sighing, and went on. “You wouldn't send a company to chase the rebels when they had no ammunition in their rifles and their sabers were broken. That was the situation the imagers were in, and Major Luerryn was wise enough to recognize that.”

“You wouldn't have gone?”

Alastar looked at Maurek. “Commander … you know what your men and weapons can do. I know what mine can do. We killed close to two companies worth of rebels. Possibly more. We did it with six imagers. That was all we could do today. Let us rest, and we can fight again. Insist that we fight when we're spent, and you'll lose most of the imagers … and you can't replace them for another twenty-five years, if then. It's that simple.”

Maurek swallowed. “I'm sorry, Maitre. I hadn't thought in those terms. It's just that…”

“You saw what seemed to be a lost opportunity. It was, but pursuing it would have cost you even more dearly.”
Not to mention what it would have cost the Collegium … for almost no gain.

Maurek started to say something, then stopped as Wilkorn entered the command tent.

“How did it go?” asked the marshal.

Alastar decided to state the case for the marshal quickly before Maurek could. “We encountered a rebel force of at least battalion size…” He quickly repeated what he had just told Maurek, adding, “The rebels have at least one imager, possibly two. We have no way of knowing whether either imager was killed or wounded. We searched the bodies but could find no traces.”

“Why not?”

“Because imagers look like everyone else. There was no one wearing gray, and none of the dead men was either of the two who deserted.”

“That could be a problem,” mused Wilkorn.

“The concealment aspect is more of a problem in fights with small forces,” Alastar pointed out. “It's hard to maintain a consistent concealment over a large area and for any length of time. That was one reason I could spot the one in the orchard.”

“How did you?” asked Maurek.

“The area under the trees wasn't clear, but the trees were, and so was the ground in front of the orchard.”

“You knew what to look for,” said Wilkorn. “Even after what you've said, I don't know as I'd recognize something like that.”

“After you've seen it a few times, you would,” Alastar said. “Where are the rest of the rebel forces?”

“We're getting more reports, now that the scouts are aware of the kinds of traps the rebels were setting for them. The main force was just south of Caluse early this morning,” said Wilkorn. “Around noon it appeared that they were investing the town. They're taking their time. It may be that the battalion you encountered was attempting to get into position to mount a flank attack or even one from the rear. We've sent more scouts west and positioned them well in advance so that the rebels will advance toward them, rather than having them advance into the rebel forces.”

“That would minimize the effect of possible concealments,” Alastar agreed. “What's your feeling about how long they'll stay in Caluse?”

Wilkorn shrugged. “I don't see weeks. A few days. Who knows?”

“If they stay a while, then we could do something to whittle them down,” suggested Alastar.

“That might be necessary, but it seems that you won't be doing much for the next day or so.”

“I won't, but Maitre Cyran and group two are ready. That's another reason why it wasn't a good idea to use all the imagers at once, at least in the beginning.”

“I can see that,” said Maurek dryly.

“We'll decide on that once we have a better idea on what the rebels are likely to do,” added Wilkorn. “Or what the next reports from the scouts show.” He offered a sympathetic smile to Alastar. “You look like you could use something to eat and some rest.”

“They might help,” admitted Alastar.

“We'll keep you informed.”

“Thank you.”

Alastar left the tent and walked several paces away, until the troopers who were posted weren't looking. Then he wrapped a concealment around himself, knowing he couldn't hold it too long and slipped back to the tent, stopping just outside the canvas and listening.

“… how much did they do, Major?” Maurek's voice was skeptical.

“Everything he said, Commander. Likely more. Most of the bodies had wooden darts in them. Usually through the eyes or heart.”

“What about the Maitre? He's not a young man.”

“Two of the younger ones helped shield him. I think that was so he could use all his abilities with the darts. Bodies were piled in front of him withers high.”

“Would you go out again with imagers?” asked Wilkorn.

“With him … anytime. Facing a battalion and a half and only losing a squad … that just doesn't happen.”

“That still leaves the rebels with two and a half regiments,” said Maurek.

“The imagers did that with half their force. We'll just have to keep using them.”

Alastar would have liked to hear more, but his head was beginning to pound, and he could sense he was getting unsteady. Before he released the concealment, he did manage to walk far enough from the command tent so that it wasn't likely anyone would see where he'd been.

Rubbing his forehead in an effort to ease the throbbing, Alastar walked slowly back toward the imagers' area, thinking over what he'd observed about the rebel imagers during the two skirmishes or battles. Had there been two … or just one? Given the timing between the two, one imager could have done both—except that placing an imager with the smaller attacking force seemed strange … unless the rebel commander was using the imager to strengthen the lesser force and the imager had retreated to the main force under a concealment.

Had Bettaur been there? The more Alastar considered the matter, the less he thought that Bettaur had been present. Bettaur was a stronger imager than the one he and the first group had faced, but Ashkyr certainly could have handled what they had faced, and Bettaur could certainly have persuaded the younger imager to do his best and then withdraw. With only two imagers, the rebels would likely be more willing to let them avoid danger.
Or at least save them until a more critical conflict.

 

43

Wilkorn summoned Alastar well before fifth glass on Meredi. Alastar woke Cyran, then finished getting ready.

“Why do you want me there?” asked Cyran as the two walked toward the command tent in the gray light before dawn.

“Because there's likely a problem that requires imagers, and group one isn't up to it, and, frankly, I'm still sore and tired. So it's your turn. I did tell you this would happen.”

“You did,” replied Cyran with a short laugh.

“And you thought I was just placating you.” Alastar grinned. “Anyway, I want to make certain that Maurek doesn't put you and group two in an impossible position. As I told you last night, he still doesn't understand, at least with his feelings, the limits to what imagers can do.”

“Do any of us, really?”

Alastar smiled. “Probably not, but we're likely to be closer.”

“I still don't understand why Bettaur threw in with the rebels.”

“If he did, he may have felt he didn't have a choice.”

“If he did? You said you faced an imager…”

“That's what bothered me. It was more like we faced Ashkyr, but with all the trouble Bettaur took to help the young man, why would he leave him out there alone?”

“Maybe the rebels didn't give Bettaur much choice.”

Alastar frowned, considering Ryentar's personality, and the attitudes manifested in the acts of Hehnsyn, Marryt, and Aestyn, then nodded. “With only two of them, that's possible.”

“More than likely, if you ask me.”

What Cyran said made sense, but Alastar still had his doubts.

Both Maurek and Wilkorn were waiting in the command tent.

“Good morning, Maitres,” offered Wilkorn cheerfully. “Commander Maurek has some ideas … and some questions.” He moved toward the camp table that held a large map.

The commander already stood behind the table. “The rebels are definitely settling into Caluse, here.” Maurek pointed. “They're patrolling the river road north of the town and the side road that leads to Luasne—that's a small town seven milles west … right here.”

“Does the road to Luasne lead on to the hamlet where we fought yesterday?” asked Alastar.

“It does.”

“Are they garrisoning Luasne?”

“Not yet, according to the scouts.”

“Have any more scouts vanished?”

“No. Why do you ask?” Maurek's brow furrowed.

“That suggests they've pulled the imagers back. At least for now. Or that they have another use for them at the moment.”

“Could they have been as exhausted as yours were?” asked Wilkorn.

“That's possible.” Alastar realized, if belatedly, he hadn't even considered that, possibly because it hadn't seem to him that the rebel imagers had done all that much compared to the Collegium imagers.