stretching from one wall to the other.
A flash of light and a wave of chill swept over the group, and a slight feeling of dizziness struck Quaeryt … and passed. He looked across the empty canal at the smooth expanse of gray stone, then at the sparkling ice and frost stretching southward across the stubbled fields beyond the canal for close to half a mille. After taking a deep breath, he said to Neusyn, “That will have to warm up, I think, before the others begin to image the walls back in place.”
The captain swallowed. “As you say, Commander.”
Quaeryt looked to the undercaptains. “We all need a break, and some rations, before we go back to work on the walls.”
In the later part of the afternoon, after a break of nearly a glass, Quaeryt directed the undercaptains in their imaging to replace the stonework, then the clay, and finally the berm. They did not finish until well after fourth glass. While they made ready to return to the regiments, Quaeryt and Neusyn walked the several hundred yards to the small canal house. The weathered canalman was standing outside, waiting.
“The repairs are finished,” Quaeryt said.
“Sir … never seen anything like that,” said the weathered canalman, looking westward at the stonework, then back at the commander.
“It’s not something imagers usually do,” replied Quaeryt, “but Lord Bhayar needs the Great Canal in working order. I don’t think you should open the locks and emergency water gates for another glass or so.” Quaeryt was being cautious, but he couldn’t help but worry that some of the material might be chill and should warm before coming in contact with water.
“Whatever you say, sir.”
Quaeryt nodded, then headed over to where the mare and the undercaptains were mounting up.
On the ride back to the canal boats and first company, Quaeryt took some time imaging the dried mud off his trousers, but being careful not to image away any of the fabric. When he finished, he realized that he was tired, but only physically so, and that he was having no trouble with his shields. That was good, especially after imaging a massive section of stone into place.
“Well?” said Vaelora when Quaeryt returned. She wrinkled her nose. “What…?”
“Canal mud. It’s not exactly perfume. I imaged away the worst of it.”
“How bad was it?”
“One of Kharst’s engineers cut corners…” He went on to explain what had happened and what he and the other imagers had been forced to do, then finished, “It will likely be tomorrow afternoon before the springs refill this section of the canal, and we’ll have to wait until at least some of the cargo boats—”
“Why do we have to wait?”
“Because they’re all jammed up at the locks in Eluthyn. We couldn’t get through until they’ve moved.” Before Vaelora could say more, he went on. “Since we’re going to be here for another day, we might as well visit Eluthyn tomorrow. The locals should be getting used to a Telaryn force of some size by now. There might even be an inn with decent fare.” He paused. “I do think that the accommodations here are likely to be better than in the town.”
“In that, dearest, I would agree, but it would be nice to see more than water and canal walls and fields and small towns.”
“We can manage that.”
Vaelora smiled.
10
Quaeryt woke up with a start, lying on his back. He could not move, except to breathe, and his breath was a thin white cloud above him that crystallized into fine needles of ice that stabbed at the flesh of his face as they solidified and fell. The chill seeped over him like ice water, but without any sense of wetness as it bit into his exposed flesh.
Standing in the ice mist facing him were white figures, assemblages of bones, angular skeletons. The sightless eyeholes of the skulls looked at him, accusingly. As he lay there, Quaeryt became aware that standing on each side of where he lay were men in the blue-gray uniforms of
A flash of light and a wave of chill swept over the group, and a slight feeling of dizziness struck Quaeryt … and passed. He looked across the empty canal at the smooth expanse of gray stone, then at the sparkling ice and frost stretching southward across the stubbled fields beyond the canal for close to half a mille. After taking a deep breath, he said to Neusyn, “That will have to warm up, I think, before the others begin to image the walls back in place.”
The captain swallowed. “As you say, Commander.”
Quaeryt looked to the undercaptains. “We all need a break, and some rations, before we go back to work on the walls.”
In the later part of the afternoon, after a break of nearly a glass, Quaeryt directed the undercaptains in their imaging to replace the stonework, then the clay, and finally the berm. They did not finish until well after fourth glass. While they made ready to return to the regiments, Quaeryt and Neusyn walked the several hundred yards to the small canal house. The weathered canalman was standing outside, waiting.
“The repairs are finished,” Quaeryt said.
“Sir … never seen anything like that,” said the weathered canalman, looking westward at the stonework, then back at the commander.
“It’s not something imagers usually do,” replied Quaeryt, “but Lord Bhayar needs the Great Canal in working order. I don’t think you should open the locks and emergency water gates for another glass or so.” Quaeryt was being cautious, but he couldn’t help but worry that some of the material might be chill and should warm before coming in contact with water.
“Whatever you say, sir.”
Quaeryt nodded, then headed over to where the mare and the undercaptains were mounting up.
On the ride back to the canal boats and first company, Quaeryt took some time imaging the dried mud off his trousers, but being careful not to image away any of the fabric. When he finished, he realized that he was tired, but only physically so, and that he was having no trouble with his shields. That was good, especially after imaging a massive section of stone into place.
“Well?” said Vaelora when Quaeryt returned. She wrinkled her nose. “What…?”
“Canal mud. It’s not exactly perfume. I imaged away the worst of it.”
“How bad was it?”
“One of Kharst’s engineers cut corners…” He went on to explain what had happened and what he and the other imagers had been forced to do, then finished, “It will likely be tomorrow afternoon before the springs refill this section of the canal, and we’ll have to wait until at least some of the cargo boats—”
“Why do we have to wait?”
“Because they’re all jammed up at the locks in Eluthyn. We couldn’t get through until they’ve moved.” Before Vaelora could say more, he went on. “Since we’re going to be here for another day, we might as well visit Eluthyn tomorrow. The locals should be getting used to a Telaryn force of some size by now. There might even be an inn with decent fare.” He paused. “I do think that the accommodations here are likely to be better than in the town.”
“In that, dearest, I would agree, but it would be nice to see more than water and canal walls and fields and small towns.”
“We can manage that.”
Vaelora smiled.
10
Quaeryt woke up with a start, lying on his back. He could not move, except to breathe, and his breath was a thin white cloud above him that crystallized into fine needles of ice that stabbed at the flesh of his face as they solidified and fell. The chill seeped over him like ice water, but without any sense of wetness as it bit into his exposed flesh.
Standing in the ice mist facing him were white figures, assemblages of bones, angular skeletons. The sightless eyeholes of the skulls looked at him, accusingly. As he lay there, Quaeryt became aware that standing on each side of where he lay were men in the blue-gray uniforms of
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