When Khaern entered the stateroom, he inclined his head first to Vaelora, then Quaeryt, and then Nykaal. “You requested my presence, sirs and Lady?”
“Please have a seat.” Quaeryt gestured to the vacant chair at the circular table. “You may have heard that we’ve had some difficulty obtaining mounts.”
“There’s been some word about that, sir.”
“You may also recall that Major Arion served under me before he was dispatched with Subcommander Calkoran to suggest an agreement with the High Council of Khel. He rode into Kherseilles a short time ago with his company. He informed me that the High Council has effectively prohibited the sale of any horses to anyone not serving the High Council. The Council is willing to provide us enough horses to mount up first company—and Lady Vaelora and the undercaptains—so that we may travel to Saendeol to meet with the Council.”
“If I might say so, sir, that doesn’t appear to be the most conciliatory of acts on the part of the Council.”
“That was my first thought,” replied Quaeryt. “Yet, from their point of view, landing two warships and troops in Kherseilles might not be considered terribly conciliatory, either.” He turned to Nykaal. “What are your thoughts on the matter, Captain?”
“You’re not going to make that strong an impression with one mounted company. On the other hand, I doubt that they can force us out of Kherseilles.”
“I wouldn’t want it to come to that, for a number of reasons. What are the arrangements for the merchanters?”
“Their contract is over once your troopers disembark, and they’ll leave on that night’s tide, I am more than certain.”
“And your orders?”
“Both the
Solis
and the
Montagne
are to support you for so long as you require.”
“Will that be a problem in terms of supplies?”
“No, sir.”
“Then it appears that our immediate course is set.”
Nykaal frowned, if briefly. Vaelora nodded.
“I have no mounts for Eleventh Regiment, and no way for Eleventh Regiment to return immediately to Ephra or Geusyn. We are charged with meeting with the High Council. They are amenable to meeting. So first company, when appropriate but as soon as practicable, will ride to Saendeol to meet with the Council. I’m planning on departing at first glass this afternoon.”
“With but one company?” asked Nykaal. “You can’t even be certain that the Khellan battalion won’t attack you if their Council decides you’re a danger.”
“They’ve seen what the commander can do, sir,” replied Khaern, “and they’re not stupid enough to bring his wrath down on them.”
Nykaal frowned. “But if they believe that…”
“Why doesn’t the Council?” asked Quaeryt. “Because no one believes much of anything until they get burned or watch someone else get burned, frozen, or otherwise destroyed. Some don’t even understand when they do see. Those are the ones who have to experience it firsthand … and too many of them don’t learn from the experience because they don’t survive it.”
Nykaal still wore a puzzled frown.
“Captain, there are forty thousand dead Bovarian troopers and officers,” said Khaern. “That doesn’t include a rex and most of his court. There’s scarcely a building left standing in a space three milles wide and a mille deep. You probably think I’m telling tall tales. I’m not. My men had to help bury all those bodies. So did the Khellan troops.”
“If you’re wondering why we didn’t do something like that to the Antiagon ships,” added Quaeryt, “there wasn’t any need to, and it’s better to save extreme measures for extreme situations.” He smiled. “Now … we need to discuss how you feel we should handle the
Montagne
and the
Solis
.”
“I’d prefer to have one at sea off the harbor at any time. The Antiagons have been known to sneak in vessels and fire them before they could raise sail.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. You and Khaern can work out details for what troopers you need aboard. First company, Lady Vaelora and I, and the imager undercaptains will be riding out at first glass. We will send dispatches, although I doubt that you’ll learn much until we reach Saendeol. Unless you have any questions, several of us need to ready ourselves for another ride.” Quaeryt glanced sideways to Vaelora, and the two of them rose.
31
By a quint past first glass, Quaeryt, Vaelora, and first company were riding away from the pier and the
Montagne
. Arion had insisted that Quaeryt ride a large black gelding and Vaelora a matching black mare.
So long as it’s not a white stallion,
Quaeryt had thought when he’d saddled the gelding.
Arion had not brought all of fourth company to Kherseilles, just two squads, both of which rode rearguard, while Zhelan dispatched first company’s second squad as the vanguard, with scouts from both first company and from Arion’s squads. Quaeryt and Arion rode on each side of Vaelora, with Khalis and Zhelan following, and the other undercaptains after them.
As they rode away from the burned-out warehouses that still lined the harbor, Quaeryt began to count the houses and shops that appeared ruined or vacant. After three blocks he stopped. Roughly one in every three or four structures appeared deserted and looked to require significant repairs to make it livable once more.
“Did all the destruction happen during the war?” asked Quaeryt.
Arion laughed harshly. “Almost none of it did. There weren’t any battles fought here in the south. Kharst just marched an army from Laaryn to Khelgror, and then shipped forces to Ouestan and Eshtora. Those forces closed the ports and waited. Factors from all over Lydar descended on Kherseilles with their own guards and armsmen and took whatever they wanted. Sooner or later, that happened to all the port cities. It happened sooner in Ouestan and Eshtora. After the Red Death, we did not have enough men to send to every port, so we fought the Bovarians near Khelgror. We fought until we had but a few companies left. We almost won, but there were too few of us. Once we were defeated, they removed any Pharsi factors who had survived and replaced them with people of their own. Except in the coastal hills in the west, they didn’t create high holdings. Anyone who complained was executed. For any Bovarian trooper or functionary who was killed, they killed five people at random. So … troopers and factors began to disappear. For every Bovarian who vanished, they killed three people.”
“How many troopers or factors vanished, and then reappeared?”
“That happened once or twice. After that, they still killed three people—and they also killed the people who vanished if they showed up again.”
“How many of the people are left?” asked Vaelora.
“The Red Death took one in three. The war took one in four of those remaining. The factors and the troopers that supported them took one in four from those survivors—and then those who remained killed all the troopers when we learned that Bovaria had fallen to Lord Bhayar. That cost us many people, mostly women.”
Quaeryt attempted to make the calculations in his head. “Based on those numbers, today you have about four out of every ten who lived in Khel ten years ago.”
Arion shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“Do you know why the High Council is opposed to Lord Bhayar’s terms?”
“They have not spoken to me, or to any of us who served under you—except for Subcommander Calkoran.”
“Then tell me why you think the Council opposes Lord Bhayar’s rule.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“I might have ten or fifteen years ago. Today … no.”
“They do not see it that way. They trust no one. Many would rather die than be ruled by an outsider. The Selenorans believe Lord Bhayar would be as bad as Kharst, if not worse.”
“Would that be so even if the Council were given some authority for what happens in Khel?”
“There is a saying about a ruler’s promise lasting less time than a black coney in winter.”
“Is a black coney the sign of bad luck?” asked Quaeryt.
The slightest hint of a frown crossed the major’s face. “Not that I know … well … there is the saying that he who hunts only black coneys will soon starve.”
“For more reasons than one, I’m sure,” said Quaeryt dryly. “How is Captain Stensted doing? And your men?”
“All are healthy, and all are pleased to be back in Khel.”
“But … there are some matters that are unclear?” suggested Quaeryt. “Such as whether your allegiance is to Lord Bhayar and how long you’ll be paid, especially since there are few coins indeed in Khel? And since you agreed to fight against Rex Kharst and he’s dead?”
“Those things have been mentioned.”
“I thought they might have been,” replied Quaeryt.
Arion said nothing, but kept riding, avoiding looking at either envoy.
“Lord Bhayar did promote Subcommander Calkoran. To me, that suggests he believes all of you are still serving him and will be paid as such. Unless, of course, that allegiance is repudiated. I imagine the High Council sees it that way as well, and that could place the subcommander in a difficult position. A most difficult one.”
“He has said as much to me.”
“But not to Major Zhael, I would guess.”
“I do not know, but Zhael has said nothing.”
“So you’re to find out what you can?”
Arion grinned, somewhat sheepishly.
“I think Bhayar would like to keep paying you all for as long as you would serve him.”
“That would mean Khel would become part of Telaryn.”
“That is his hope … and mine. I do not think the future of Khel will be very bright without Bhayar’s support.”
“Would you turn against Khel, Commander?”
“I’m not interested in turning against anyone. Lady Vaelora and I are here to try to find a way that Khel can agree to become part of Telaryn so that all Lydar is united and there will be no more wars among its people.”
“Do you think the Autarch Aliaro will accept that?” Arion’s skepticism was more than clear.
“One way or another, he will.”
“You mean dead or alive?”
“It might come to that. I would not wish the same for Khel.”
“How can Bhayar promise a fair rule when he does not yet even control all of Bovaria?”
“I’d like you to think about that for a while, Major. And I hope the Council will as well.” Quaeryt smiled warmly. “In the meantime, can you tell me a little about the Selenorans? I’ve never heard anything about them.”
“There have been those who believe in the power of the moon goddess since as far back as there has been a Khel. Much longer, I would think. Most of them are hunters and herders and stay far from the cities and larger towns. The most dangerous are the Eleni, the wise women to whom the others listen and who tame the great eagles to hunt for them. There are tales … they are only tales … but you do not wish…”
“Tell me of the tales,” said Quaeryt. “If they oppose a union of Khel and Telaryn, I should know more of them and why they are so opposed.”
“In the time of the first great council, the first of the High Councils, the people of Moryn sent a councilor to them who was said to be a hand of Erion.” Arion paused. “You did say…”
“Go on.”
“This councilor wished to extend the laws of the High Council to the wild ones, the ones like the Eleni, who lived away from the towns, and cities, and even the hamlets. He refused to listen to the Eleni who approached him and who claimed that they lived under the laws of Artiema and that they had no need of the laws of the High Council. Three times, the wise women of the Eleni approached him, and three times he turned them away. When he dismounted below the Mound of Truth and began to walk up the steps of truth, one of the great eagles appeared in the sky and swooped down upon him and killed him with a single blow.
“The eldest of the Eleni appeared at the foot of the steps and declared that the same fate would befall any man—even a hand of Erion—who dared to act without even the grace to talk to the Eleni. Then she vanished where she stood, leaving the councilor’s body on the stones.” Arion shrugged. “Many say that his death proved he was no hand of Erion. Others say that his death proved that Erion was indeed the lesser moon.”
“Are there other tales such as that?”
“Many,” said Arion. “Khel is an old land, perhaps older than Telaryn.”
“There’s little doubt of that,” agreed Quaeryt. “Go on.”
“Most are of lesser happenings, but all show the power of Artiema and the Eleni. In the time of my great-grandmere, a Ferran factor seized the daughter of a Eleni herder and tried to take her back to his factorage in Eshtora. She pleaded to Artiema, and the factor was struck by a dark thunderbolt, and she escaped.”
“Another eagle?” asked Quaeryt.
“I would think so, but my grandmere—she was the one who told the story—insisted it was a black thunderbolt…”
“How does one tell who is of the Eleni … truly?” asked Vaelora.
“By their deeds. Sometimes by their garb. They are always black-haired, and the huntresses wear red leather shoulder rests for the eagles and red leather gloves.”
“Have you ever seen one?”
“Twice, from a distance as a boy. I had no desire to get closer.”
“Are there any other stories?” asked Quaeryt.
“My friend Reybaal told me that he saw an Eleni huntress turn aside a mounted company. He did not see what she did…”
Just outside Kherseilles, the column turned onto a narrow road—but an ancient gray stone paved way that looked all too familiar to Quaeryt. He looked to Arion. “This is an old, old road. Was Saendeol once the capital or a leading city of southern Khel?”
The major looked quizzically at Quaeryt. “Where have you heard this? I said nothing of that.”
Quaeryt smiled. “The road told me.”
Arion smiled in return. “What did it tell you, Commander?”
“The stones are all the same size. They are the same size and shape as the stones used by the Naedarans in the south of Bovaria, yet I have seen no other stone like this used in the walls and buildings of Kherseilles. The road is the same width, and has been here for a long time, but there is little trace of wear. The walls of Nordeau were built in a way that suggested the builders feared imagers, but the early Bovarians had no imagers. Also, roads are built by people with power, and they connect places of power. The stone piers at Kherseilles are old and of stone. You told me that Saendeol was where the Council once met. Therefore…”