Outcasts of Order

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “You sure about that, Mage?”

  “It feels better now, doesn’t it?”

  “It still hurts.”

  Beltur checked the lower leg, finding a few points of wound chaos, which he removed, and then began to ease a tiny bit of free chaos into the knot he’d discovered earlier, a knot that he thought had shrunk just a bit. Finally, he straightened and looked at Errakyn. “Is that a little better?”

  “There’s some pain, but not so much.”

  “Good. I’ll be back later, close to fourth glass, and I’ll see what else I can do.”

  “You can’t do more now?”

  Beltur shook his head. “Your leg would get too hot.” He didn’t know that for certain, but from what he’d learned while at the healing house, using too much order or chaos, especially free order or chaos, caused too much heat in the flesh. “It needs to cool down and recover for a while.” He definitely wanted to remove the pain, or at least get it down lower, before he left Axalt.

  After stepping out of the room, he couldn’t help thinking, No matter what you do, or how long you stay, there will be something more you could have done if you stayed longer.

  Basket in hand, he started for the adjoining room.

  The remainder of eightday was quiet, and just before he left the healing house, he returned to see Errakyn.

  “Is the pain still less?”

  “Yes, ser. It’s not bad at all.”

  “Let’s see if we can lessen it more.” Beltur concentrated once more on the knot, definitely smaller than it had been earlier, easing a touch more free chaos into it. Then he stood back and looked to the logger, inquiringly.

  “It’s better. A bit of a twinge, still.”

  “That’s good. This is most likely the last time I’ll see you.”

  Errakyn frowned. “You can’t do more?”

  “That’s not the question. The Axalt Council prefers that Healer Jessyla and I leave Axalt. So, unless a northeaster hits in the next day or so, we’ll be leaving on twoday.”

  “But you’re healers.”

  “So is Healer Herrara, and she’s very good. You’ll be in good hands.” Beltur managed a warm smile, then quickly turned and left the room.

  What else could you say without creating more problems?

  After that, he made his way to Herrara’s study.

  “You’re getting ready to leave?”

  Beltur nodded. “I gave Errakyn a last treatment with another small bit of free chaos. He says that pain is down to a twinge.”

  “I can’t even sense that knot that you talk about.”

  “It’s not very big.”

  Herrara shook her head. “We’ll miss you. I’ll certainly miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you. I’ve learned a lot here, and not all of it was about healing.”

  She offered a mock-serious expression. “I would hope not.”

  Beltur couldn’t help grinning, even knowing that Herrara had provoked his reaction. “Be careful, I might come back with an army.”

  “You don’t need an army,” she said lightly. “Just gather a few more mages and healers, and no one will dare cross you.”

  “That might be harder than it sounds.”

  “You’ll manage.”

  “Do you have the kind of foresight that Ryba did?”

  “Me? Hardly. I’ve just watched you and Jessyla.” After the briefest hesitation, she added, “You need to be on your way, or you’ll be late to dinner at Johlana’s.”

  “How did you—”

  “It wasn’t magery. Now go.” The smile belied the firmness of her last words.

  Beltur inclined his head and left.

  As Herrara had implied, everyone was waiting and ready to leave for Johlana’s when Beltur arrived at the cot. So he washed up quickly, trying not to keep the others waiting, then hurried to rejoin them.

  Once they were outside and walking westward, Jessyla said, “Tulya and I have most things packed. Most of what we can take is packed into a bundle for the pack mule. Two, really. One’s for food. Our clothes will still fit in the duffels we used before.”

  When he remembered the duffel Jessyla had brought to Axalt, Beltur looked at his consort. “As I recall—”

  “Don’t say a word. I put a few of my things in your duffel. I also made up bedrolls with the oilcloth I got last fourday.”

  Beltur decided that the less he said, the better. He also thought he could sense Lhadoraak’s amusement.

  When the five reached Johlana’s, Halhana was the one who answered the side door. “You’re all here. Good! Come on in, and I’ll tell Asala so she knows she doesn’t have to delay dinner.”

  By the time Beltur had his coat and scarf off and hung on one of the hall wall pegs, Halhana had returned and escorted them to the family parlor. When Beltur and Jessyla entered the room, the first thing that Beltur noticed was the mirror for Eshult, its silvered-bronze cupridium shimmering in the light cast by the oil lamps in their wall sconces.

  “Now you can say something about the mirror, Eshult,” said Johlana from where she sat in her customary armchair.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” rumbled Jorhan. “Man commissions a mirror and likes it, that’s good enough for me.”

  “It’s magnificent,” said Eshult, “as I said earlier.”

  “But Beltur needed to hear that,” said Johlana.

  “Jorhan did most of the work, and the artistry is all his. I just made sure than the cupridium was good.”

  Tulya looked at the mirror without moving for several moments, then eased close to where it rested on a side table. “It’s gorgeous.” She looked to Beltur, then to Jorhan. “I didn’t know…”

  For an instant, Beltur wondered what she meant, then realized that neither Tulya nor Lhadoraak had ever seen any of the work that he and Jorhan had produced. Even Lhadoraak looked surprised as he studied the mirror.

  “The councilors are idiots to stop Uncle Jorhan and Beltur from working together,” declared Frankyr.

  “They didn’t say we couldn’t work together,” replied Beltur. “They said that I shouldn’t stay in Axalt.”

  “That’s the same thing,” returned Frankyr.

  “Halhana and Eshult have the two best pieces we’ve ever done,” said Jorhan. “Can’t think of a better place for them.”

  Beltur couldn’t, either, although he doubted his reasons were quite the same as Jorhan’s, since he hoped that the blood and loss caused by the first mirror might be healed in some fashion by the second—or by the fact that Eshult had asked for the second mirror.

  “I do think, if I do say so myself,” Jorhan said, a slight twinkle in his eye, “that oak leaves and acorns match better with rosebuds than thistles or thorns would.”

  Halhana turned to her consort. “You asked for thorns?”

  From her tone, and what he sensed, Beltur could tell she was teasing Eshult.

  “You have noted that I come from prickly stock,” Eshult bantered back.

  Halhana turned to her uncle. “Thank you for the oak leaves and acorns. I like what that foretells much better.”

  “So do I,” said Eshult.

  At that moment, Ryntaar handed a mug of mulled wine to Jessyla and a beaker of pale ale to Beltur, while Frankyr provided Taelya with a tumbler of pearapple juice. Ryntaar then went back to the sideboard and returned with lager and mulled wine for Lhadoraak and Tulya.

  “And now, a toast for good traveling,” offered Ryntaar, raising his own beaker, “and fair weather.”

  “Good traveling and fair weather,” came the response.

  Johlana raised her mug of mulled wine. “Tonight will be my farewell. The last thing you all need is someone hanging around when you’re trying to deal with horses and packs. So … a fond farewell to friends who are like family, and to the hope we will indeed meet again … before too long.”

  “A fond farewell.”

  Beltur definitely had the feeling that he was going to enjoy the evening, and that was g
ood, because he was clearly going to be very, very busy on oneday.

  LXXXIV

  Even before Jessyla left for the healing house on oneday, Beltur was at Johlana’s stable—he thought of everything as hers, even though, by law, everything except Johlana’s personal property and jewelry belonged to Ryntaar, unless Ryntaar gifted it to Frankyr at some point. Ryntaar had already left to pick up the two additional mounts from Eshult and the pack mule, along with the necessary tack, and Beltur immediately went to work on giving each of the horses a thorough grooming, as well as checking them over once again. He’d almost finished with the first four, including the mare from Jorhan, when Ryntaar arrived with the others.

  Beltur helped the young merchant lead the three animals into the stable.

  “It’s going to be crowded for a while,” observed Ryntaar after the three were secured, “but the weather looks good. The roads are dry at least until you reach the east wall. That’s what the post riders say.”

  That meant the first two days would be uneventful. At least, they should be, because there hadn’t been any brigands in years along the stone roads that ran from the east wall through Axalt and the city proper to the west wall. Outside those walls, however, was another question, and the reason why he and Lhadoraak would be paid for accompanying the merchants.

  “So we’ll run into wet snow or rain once we’re out of Axalt?” asked Beltur humorously.

  “Well … you will be in Certis, and with the Viscount you just never know.”

  “I was afraid you might say something like that.”

  “Is there anything else I can help with?” asked Ryntaar.

  “No, you’ve done more than enough. Thank you for bringing the horses.”

  “It’s little enough.”

  “It’s more than that, and we appreciate everything you and your parents have done for us.”

  “Then I’ll see you later.”

  After Ryntaar left the stable, Beltur went back to work, beginning by grooming the mule, who, true to the nature of mules, tried to shy away from Beltur. Beltur, as he once had with Slowpoke, simply used containments to keep the mule in position.

  More than a glass later, as Beltur was putting away gear and tack, the stable door opened, and a figure in black entered. For a moment, Beltur thought it might be Lhadoraak, but then realized the black was none other than Councilor Naerkaal.

  “I’ve been looking for you. Lhadoraak told me you’d be here, getting the horses ready for your departure tomorrow.”

  “Making sure we depart?”

  “As we both know, whether you wish to acknowledge it or not, there is no way I could force you to depart … or do anything you do not wish.”

  Beltur was struck by Naerkaal’s gentle honesty, and not only struck, but also surprised, despite what Herrara had said days earlier. “Perhaps not directly, but as I learned in Elparta, by restricting someone’s ability to earn a living or by other indirect means, you can usually accomplish what can’t be achieved by force.”

  “That is true, but that was not my doing, and not to my liking. I’m also subject to indirect pressures, and I’m far less powerful than you are.” The councilor smiled warmly. “That wasn’t why I sought you. I wanted to give you this.” Naerkaal extended a book bound in black leather.

  Not even trying to conceal a puzzled expression, Beltur took the book, a volume that felt old.

  “Since I suspect you haven’t had the chance to finish it,” the older man went on, “and even if you have, I thought you’d like to have your own copy. This is an older version, and that seemed appropriate. It’s still in very good condition. It’s good for thought … and you’ll find, I think, as I have, some of it will work for you, and some won’t. You and he have a great deal in common, I think.”

  With what Naerkaal had said, Beltur had a good idea of what the book might be, but he opened it to the title page, which read The Wisdom of Relyn. He nodded, closed the book, and looked to Naerkaal. “Thank you. You were right. I didn’t have a chance to read more than a bit of Barrynt’s copy.” He paused. “I’m not certain that I have that much in common with Relyn, other than being forced out of several lands.”

  “There is that. You’re also a more powerful mage than Relyn was. It’s hard to tell from reading his book, but I wonder if he was really a mage at all. Yet he accomplished a great deal. You could do more, if you put your mind to it.”

  Me? A mage forced out of three lands? Part healer, part mage, with my only real strengths being shields and sensing tiny bits of order and chaos? “You seem to have more confidence in me than I do.”

  “You’ll learn. I hope it won’t be too painful for you and those around you. I wish you well in your travels.” Naerkaal inclined his head.

  “Thank you … again.”

  “It was my pleasure.” The councilor turned and slipped out of the stable.

  Beltur set aside the book, carefully, and went back to work.

  By midday, Beltur had done all that he could with the horses, and he walked back through a day that had become increasingly hazy, almost foggy, and he had to wonder if that had something to do with the melting snow. He was surprised to find Jessyla in the front room at the cot, where she and Tulya were cleaning.

  “You’re already here?”

  “Herrara paid me at noon and told me to leave.”

  “And you’re cleaning?”

  “We’re not going to leave the place a mess,” declared Jessyla. “Not when poor Frankyr has to move things out after we leave.”

  “It’ll be as neat and clean as we can make it,” added Tulya. “Lhadoraak’s out back, splitting more wood, leaving it for that grouch Rohan.”

  “He doesn’t deserve it,” added Taelya, who even had a cleaning rag in her hand.

  “Councilor Naerkaal came by the stable.”

  “He was here earlier,” said Tulya. “Lhadoraak talked to him.”

  “What did he want?” asked Jessyla. “Your promise that we’d really leave Axalt?”

  “No. He handed me a gift.”

  “What? A map to get out of town?”

  “A book. A copy of The Wisdom of Relyn. He said I might find it useful, since Relyn and I were similar in some ways.”

  “You and Relyn?”

  “Well … we were both forced out of three separate lands.” Beltur paused. “Actually, I think he was forced out of four.”

  “Don’t try for that similarity … please,” said Jessyla.

  “I’m not trying for any similarity. Naerkaal was the one who said that. He also said that he wasn’t the one who wanted us to leave.” Beltur could hear the door open and sensed Lhadoraak entering the cot. The door closed.

  “But he’s the only mage on the Council.”

  “He might well be the only mage in Axalt except for those of us here, and he’s not that powerful a mage. That was what he said, or close to it.”

  “That might be another reason why they want us gone,” said Lhadoraak. “They can overrule him and pressure him. They’d have more trouble with us.”

  “Don’t even think about trying to stay here,” said Tulya. “I hate it here. Besides, we’d have no friends except for Johlana’s family. Everyone else would be like Rohan.”

  Will it be different anywhere else? Beltur felt a wry smile, one that he did not show. It will be unless we take steps to make sure it isn’t. The only problem was that he had no real idea what those steps should be, except that upsetting those in power wasn’t a very good idea.

  “Wherever we end up,” suggested Beltur, “we need to make it clear that we are what we are, and that we stand together.” That would be a start, anyway.

  “Now that you’ve decided that, dear,” said Jessyla, “would you mind dumping out the waste water and getting a bucket of clean water?”

  “I can do that.” Beltur smiled as he walked toward the bucket to which she had pointed, setting the black-covered book on the side table as he passed.

  LXXXV

 
Beltur was up well before dawn, as was everyone else in the cot, and he and Lhadoraak hurried over to the stable, where Beltur started to ready the horses, but stopped when he saw Lhadoraak just looking at the tack.

  “Beltur … I can ride some, but I’ve never saddled a horse.”

  That was something Beltur hadn’t even considered, but he should have. Lhadoraak had been a city mage, just the way Beltur had been until his uncle had taken him on the mission to Analeria. “Then you’re about to learn. Watch what I do. Watch closely.”

  Saddling the five mounts took time, especially since Beltur had Lhadoraak saddle one while he watched. Even Beltur had a little trouble figuring out the pack straps for the mule. The spare mount took a saddle. After dealing with that, he was glad that he’d bought a fair amount of rope at the chandlery earlier, because the pack straps for the mule wouldn’t have been enough to hold the mule’s load securely in place, let alone whatever the spare mount would be carrying.

  The time wasn’t the problem, because Beltur had counted on that, but he realized that he really didn’t want Lhadoraak leading more than a single mount back to the cot, and that would have required Beltur to ride Slowpoke and lead three mounts and the mule.

  He was considering that problem when Frankyr appeared, followed by Jorhan.

  “Ryntaar said you might need help getting all the horses over to the cot,” offered Frankyr.

  “We’d really appreciate that,” admitted Beltur.

  Jorhan motioned to Beltur, drawing him aside. “You never asked about pay, but I figured you could use your share of what Eshult paid for the mirror.” He handed Beltur a small bag. “There’s two golds and nine silvers.”

  “I thought you charged Eshult six. With the cost of the copper and tin…”

  “He paid seven, and was happy to do it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now … you be sure to let Ryntaar or Frankyr know where you end up so I can send you your share of what we did that hasn’t sold yet.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Jorhan reached out and put a hand on Beltur’s shoulder. “It’ll all work out. You’ll make it work out, just like you made the cupridium work out.” Jorhan stepped back. “Like Johlana, I’m not much for long farewells.” He turned and slipped away into the darkness outside the stable.