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thought so. I’ve already talked to them. Major Calkoran is the most senior.”
    “You ordered their companies by their seniority?”
    “Yes, sir. It seemed the best way.”
    “Remind me not to argue with you about procedures, Major.” Quaeryt smiled warmly.
    Zhelan looked taken aback, and Quaeryt realized that he’d given Zhelan a statement that a good officer couldn’t really answer. Quaeryt laughed softly. “That wasn’t a fair order. Thank you.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    In moments, both second company officers returned to the storeroom. Major Calkoran was stern-faced, with silver streaks in his black hair. Captain Eslym had short wavy brown hair and was probably about Quaeryt’s age. Both sets of dark eyes fixed on Quaeryt.
    “You are young for a subcommander,” offered Calkoran. “The major says that you are brave and that you are experienced. You are a scholar and from the Pharsi. Is that not so?”
    “I doubt I am any braver than you who have crossed the Montagnes D’Glace after fighting against the Bovarians for years. I am a scholar, and my parents were Pharsi. My wife has many Pharsi forbears as well.”
    “You bear the marks of a lost one.”
    “I have been called that more than once,” Quaeryt admitted. “I will not claim that … or disavow it. My acts define who I am.”
    Calkoran smiled wryly. “You talk as one as well.”
    “As we both know, acts define the man … or woman.”
    “What would you have of us?”
    “To be good officers. To follow orders.” Quaeryt paused, then added, “And to remember that your enemies are not the Bovarian people. Nor are your enemies the Bovarian troopers once they are defeated. Your true enemy is Rex Kharst and the senior officers and High Holders who support him.”
    Calkoran fingered his chin, almost as if he had once had a beard that he had stroked. “The Bovarians fought as demons of the Namer, and they killed when they had no need.”
    “I do not doubt that. But … would you be of the Namer? Lord Bhayar seeks to unite all Lydar and to create a land where all are equal, whether Bovarian, Telaryn, or Pharsi.”
    “Even Pharsi?”
    “You may ask any of the troopers in the southern army about how Lord Bhayar has punished those who attempted to defile Pharsi women or attack Pharsi men.”
    “I have done so. They do not speak ill of Lord Bhayar. They say that you were a governor, and that you stood up for the Pharsi. We will follow you, and trust your judgment of Lord Bhayar.”
    Quaeryt could sense the unspoken words— and hope that judgment is accurate. “I could ask no more.” He inclined his head just slightly.
    Major Calkoran inclined his head more deeply. “Subcommander … sir.”
    The captain inclined his head as well.
    “I look forward to our working together to make Lydar a better place for all.”
    “As do we.” Both officers bowed again “By your leave, sir.”
    Quaeryt nodded.
    While Quaeryt would have liked to have learned more from the Khellan officers, he understood that the present wasn’t the time to do so. He did plan to spend part of each day riding with each of them.
    His meetings with Major Zhael and his captain, Wharyn, and with Major Arion and Captain Stensed were as short, as formal, and as satisfactory as the one with Calkoran had been, that is, acceptable and the beginning of a working relationship.
    Quaeryt took a deep breath before Undercaptain Threkhyl appeared, then squared his shoulders and waited.
    “Good morning, sir,” offered Threkhyl, pleasantly enough.
    “Good morning. How are you feeling?”
    “Don’t know as I’ve felt any better. Have felt worse.”
    “Do you have any questions or thoughts about the campaign ahead?”
    The ginger-haired imager frowned for a moment, then asked, “Is it going to be like the last battle, sir?”
    “I would judge it will be more like the first skirmishes on the south of the Vyl. That’s until we get close to Variana. Then I’d think we’d see more fighting in