He shook his head. That sort of thing only happened in legends and ancient poems. Anyway, it was just wistful thinking. Or dangerous thinking. Or both. Would he want someone, even someone as warm as Deybri, knowing his every feeling? Yet why did he feel so much for her? It hadn’t been like that with any other girl—or woman. But…what use was there in pursuing such thoughts? No matter how accomplished he became with order-skills, none of the magisters would let him return to Recluce. In fact, he suspected that the more accomplished he became, the less likely they would be to allow him to return.
If it weren’t for Deybri…would he even care?
Yet…Hamor was far more dangerous than he had realized, even with Taryl’s efforts to help him and guide him.
He almost laughed as he recalled that, in its own way, Recluce had also been dangerous.
With a last glance at the letter, he rose from the writing table. Slowly he opened the narrow wardrobe. He bent down and pulled out the canvas gear bag and set it on the foot of the bed.
He took a deep breath. He still had to pack.
XV
On fiveday at breakfast, Rahl sat between Devalyn and Fientard, and, mindful of Taryl’s suggestion, even before joining them, had strengthened his personal shields and tried to overlay them with a “wash” of friendliness.
“I have to ask,” Fientard said, after eating several mouthfuls, “where you got your arms training. Khedren was impressed, and so was Elatyr, and they aren’t often pleased.”
Rahl could sense Devalyn’s increased attention, as well as that of others, but he just smiled, holding friendliness in front of his shields. “I’d have to say that I owe much to my father. He put a truncheon in my hand almost as soon as I could hold it.”
“He was a patroller or mage-guard?”
“No. He was a scrivener, but he was very good with the truncheon and not bad with the staff.” Rahl waited a moment before continuing. “I also worked with some armsmasters in Nylan, and then with Khaill in Luba, and then with the armsmaster in Swartheld.”
“Nylan?” Fientard frowned. “I thought you were from Atla or Merowey.”
Rahl shrugged. “That’s just how I learned to speak.”
Devalyn frowned. “You didn’t mention you were trained as an order armsmaster.”
“I wasn’t. They tried to teach me about both order and arms. I didn’t learn much about order, but I did learn something about arms before I got sent to Swartheld.”
Fientard was the one to frown. “And the mage-guards made you a clerk there?”
Rahl laughed, a slight struggle while maintaining tight personal shields. “Oh, no. I was a clerk. I didn’t have that many order-skills, but I was working for an outland trading outfit, and I was registered…” He explained quickly how he’d ended up in Luba as a loader without any memory and his progress from there.
The armsmaster’s assistant nodded slowly. “Makes sense. Also explains a lot.”
“What do you mean?” asked Devalyn.
An embarrassed smile crossed Fientard’s face before he responded. “More than a few mage-guards only learn weapons because they have to. They think that chaos will always save them. Doesn’t always happen that way.”
“I don’t know about that,” Devalyn replied. “Why are there so many chaos types compared to order types?”
“That’s only here in Hamor,” Rahl replied. “The Balance applies to the entire world. The ordermages in Recluce could ask why there are so many order types as compared to chaos types.”
“There’s something else to think about,” interjected Rhyett from down the table. “Chaos is more suited to attacking, and order more suited to defending. On land, anyway.”
“You won’t solve that question by discussion,” said a mage-guard Rahl didn’t recognize. “It’s how each is handled….”
Rahl was more than happy to let others debate. He had the feeling that the less others knew about his ability, the better.
Once he finished breakfast, Rahl started out from the mess when Taryl appeared and gestured to him. “I’ll be a while. It might be midmorning.”
“Khedren asked if I could help him. Would that be all right for a time?”
“Until midmorning. If I’m through before that, I’ll get you.”
“Yes, ser.”
Before going to help Khedren, Rahl went back to his quarters room and made sure that his gear was ready to go. Then he walked back to the arms exercise building in back.
Most of what Rahl did for Khedren was to illustrate specific moves with the staff, then make an attack on each of the mage-clerks of the sort that could be blocked, parried, or countered with the move they had just been shown.
Rahl found it more tiring than he’d thought it would be because there was no telling what some of them would do.
After the group had left, Rahl looked at the armsmaster. “That’s hard work.”
“But necessary.” Khedren grinned. “You’ve got the makings of an armsmaster, leastwise with staff and truncheon.”
“I thought you had to be a chaos type for that.”
“Most are, but…if you’re good enough to beat a master blade with a staff or truncheon…there have been a few.” Khedren shook his head. “You’ll do better than that. That’s if you listen close to Taryl.” He paused. “You’d better go. Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”
Rahl did have a chance to wash up a bit before he carried his gear down to the waiting coach. He had no sooner eased his gear into the small luggage compartment at the back of the coach, beside Taryl’s two larger canvas gear bags, and closed it than the driver appeared to slip a latch clip in place.
“Wouldn’t want anything falling out, ser.”
“That we wouldn’t.” Rahl offered a smile, then scrambled into the coach and eased past Taryl to the side away from the door.
Because he sensed Taryl was preoccupied, he said nothing, just watched through the open window, glad of the slight breeze generated by the motion of the coach as it headed eastward on the Northern Boulevard. The area around Mage-Guard Headquarters was meadow, or grasslands, for almost half a kay in all directions. Then there were dwellings and small shops. Rahl caught sight of the Staff and Blade—the tavern he’d never visited in the short time he’d been at headquarters. Rahl wondered why they were headed back into Cigoerne, rather than taking the ring road as they had before. Doubtless, Taryl had some reason, but Rahl wasn’t about to ask at the moment.
They’d traveled slightly more than a kay when Taryl looked up, and asked genially, “What can you tell me about the weather?”
“Ah…there aren’t any clouds close, except to the northeast, and there are more farther to the northeast. There’s some water in them, and the wind is still blowing out of the northeast.” Rahl shrugged. “I can only guess that there might be some light rain here by tonight. That’s just a guess.”
“Keep practicing. You’ll get better at it.” Taryl nodded. “You were carrying stronger personal shields when you got in the coach. That’s good.”
“It’s work,” Rahl admitted.
“Did you help Khedren this morning?”
“With staff demonstrations and practice,” Rahl admitted.
“He thinks you could be an armsmaster. If you could be more patient.”
Rahl thought he’d been very patient with the uppity mage-clerks. “He told me that, ser.”
“But what?”
“Ah…” Rahl wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“Yes?”
“Was I that bad when you and Khaill started working with me?”
Taryl laughed. “No. But you’d already had considerable training. You were doubtless that bad when you started.”
As the coach neared the intersection with another wide avenue, the driver slowed, then turned southward. Like some of the avenues and boulevards in Swartheld, the one they now traveled held a wide center area landscaped in trees, bushes, and gardens, with a center paved walkway. Larger homes, not quite est
ates, flanked the avenue, with low walls around them. Most of the small mansions were square or oblong and appeared to have central garden courtyards. From what Rahl could see, there were more impressive dwellings along the Western Avenue than in all of the parts of Swartheld that he’d seen.
After a moment, he spoke. “Ser…I do have a favor to ask.”
“Yes?” Taryl raised his thin eyebrows.
“I still have this letter I’d like to post.”
The overcommander nodded. “I thought you might. I asked the driver to go by way of the Great West Avenue, then the Southern Boulevard to the River Road. We’ll pass the south city mage-guard station, and we’ll stop there.” Taryl lifted his satchel. “In the meantime, I have another exercise for you.”
Taryl took out a thin sheet of iron and laid it on his lap. Then came three small iron boxes without tops, and finally came a small square of iron. “While you’re not looking, or using your order-senses, I’ll put the small cube under one of the boxes, and we’ll shuffle them around, and you use your order-senses to tell me which box it’s under.”
Rahl nodded warily. That didn’t seem all that hard, but usually with Taryl what seemed not all that hard was anything but easy. He looked away until Taryl cleared his throat.
“You can try now.”
Rahl extended his order-senses—and realized that each of the upside-down boxes had been imbued with enough free order to mask what was—or was not—inside it.
“Well?”
Rahl concentrated, trying to sense any minute variation in the amount of order or…something. Finally, he said, “The one closest the window.”
Taryl lifted the box. There was nothing under it. “Look away. You can try again.”
It took Rahl five attempts before he realized that Taryl had changed the amount of order in the covering boxes themselves to conceal the small metal cube. Then he got the placement right the next three times.
“Good. Now…we’ll try a different variation.”
Rahl had been struggling so hard with Taryl’s exercise that he really hadn’t paid too much attention to their surroundings, but he could feel the coach slow again as the driver turned back eastward.
“This time should be a little more difficult,” Taryl said.
Once more, Rahl was stymied and couldn’t discover where the target metal cube was hidden—until he realized that Taryl had placed a miniature order shield around the cube. By probing for such a shield, Rahl could find the cube on the first attempt.
By now, his forehead was damp from the effort.
Abruptly, Taryl looked up, then leaned out the window and called to the driver, “Don’t forget to stop at the south mage-guard station.”
“Yes, ser. It’s about a half kay ahead.”
Taryl set aside the metal board and boxes, placing them on the seat across from him, rather than back in the satchel.
As the coach eased to a halt outside a two-story stone building that could have been a duplicate of the Swartheld station, Rahl eased the letter out from inside his uniform shirt and extended it to Taryl. “Here’s the letter, ser.”
Taryl took the envelope, studied it for a moment. “Everything’s on it, and you’ve got a clear hand. Good.”
“Oh, ser.” Rahl extended four silvers. “I think this should be enough.”
Taryl took the coins. “That looks about right. I’ll let you know if it’s more or give you the change.” He opened the coach door and stepped out. “I’ll be back in a bit. I hope it won’t take too long.”
Why would it take too long? Rahl frowned.
Without even the slight breeze caused by the coach’s movement, and even with both windows open, the passenger compartment felt warm and close. Rahl glanced at the metal board and the boxes and the metal cube, then probed them with his order-senses. They were just what Taryl had said they were—worked iron, not black iron, or anything else.
He still had to wonder what the purpose of the exercise might be, although he knew that Taryl did nothing without a reason.
Rahl settled back in the seat and waited…and waited…and waited.
Finally, Taryl reappeared, followed by a squat mage-captain who stood outside the station as the overcommander reentered the coach.
“I’m sorry, but I had to spend a little time with Captain Myelr. He’ll make sure that it won’t get intercepted.” Taryl settled himself in the seat, and the coach pulled away and back out onto the Southern Boulevard.
“You must know most of the captains.”
“Not most, but many.” Taryl extended his hand. “Here’s your change.”
“Thank you.” Rahl took the three coppers.
“Now…back to the exercise. You’ve mastered the simple parts. We’ll see about the more complex ones, now.”
More exercise practice? More complex?
Why was Taryl pushing him so hard? From what little Rahl had seen at headquarters and from his time at Swartheld harbor station, he knew most other mage-guards weren’t pressed to improve skills the way Taryl was pressing him, and he also knew his skills were better than those of most mage-guards, especially of those close to his own age.
Taryl grinned. “You could practice keeping your feelings of irritation and resignation behind shields, too.”
Rahl did sigh.
XVI
Rahl was almost exhausted by the time the coach reached the High Command. This time, the driver did not stop at the headquarters building but drove on southward and followed the stone-paved road through a gap in the berm into what, at first glance, appeared to be a large town, or small city with rectangular blocks and stone-paved streets. While the buildings were of a gray stone, rather than the white of Cigoerne, the roofs were still of red tile.
“The quarters for the senior officers are those closest to the headquarters, on the higher part of the slope,” Taryl said, gesturing to the west. “The piers and loading docks are along the river, and behind them are the storehouses. Then come the barracks for the troops, and farther west, the quarters for the senior squad leaders, and then the junior officers’ quarters, and behind them the visiting and senior officers’ quarters. That’s where we’re headed. The armories and ammunition bunkers are farther south, behind another berm.”
Ammunition? “The army uses cannon?”
“When prudent. We won’t be traveling with any, though. Given the number of chaos mage-guards that support Golyat, attempting to use cannon does not appear practical at this time.” Taryl’s voice was dry.
“How long will we be here?”
“Much of that is up to the marshal, but not entirely. The Emperor wishes matters resolved so that Marshal Byrna cannot delay excessively.”
“Why would he want to delay?”
“To amass as many troops and as much cavalry and mounted heavy infantry as he can. He is one of those who believes that battles are only won by superiority in matériel and numbers of troops. Now…there are several matters I haven’t mentioned. First, you are a captain. Mage-guards assigned to the High Command have an assumed rank of captain, unless they have an actual rank.”
“So you rank as a senior officer?”
“As a mage-guard overcommander, I’m the same as a junior marshal.”
“Marshal Byrna doesn’t outrank you, then.”
“No, but I don’t outrank him, and that means we have to work together.” Taryl smiled. “There’s also one other military custom that’s very different. You won’t have a problem with it, but, by the same token, remember that it is unusual for Hamor. All officers eat at the same tables in the mess, regardless of whether they are men or women. Now, there aren’t as many women officers as there are women mage-guards, and most are captains or majers, but at the mess all seating is by general rank.”
“That means I sit among the captains? Do they go by date of rank?”
“No. For seating at the mess, all of the same rank are considered of equal precedence. The second matter is that you are never to discuss anything inv
olved with magery or with whatever tasks you are assigned, except in very general terms. Third, no matter what is said about me, about you, and about mage-guards or mages, or anything else, you are not to take offense. If one of the officers insists on calling you a coward, ignore it. If, however, he demands satisfaction for your cowardice, accept it, demand the right to name weapons, and use a staff or truncheon, and allow him a blade—and then kill him as swiftly as possible.”
“Ser?”
“Any officer who is stupid enough to be that insulting to a mage-guard is only a liability to Hamor. At the same time, you must be seen as patient and above it all, until you deal with him as if he were vermin.”
“But will any officer…?”
“There are always a few, and what you will do at first will not be obvious nor seem that dangerous.”
“Ser…I know you have much on your mind,” Rahl said quietly, “but I am concerned about my duties.”
“Oh?” Taryl did not smile.
“I have no idea what I am supposed to be doing for you. When I was a patrol mage, it was clear enough. Even when I was a clerk and a scrivener, it was clear. But now…” Rahl shrugged helplessly.
“You are to do what I tell you. Once we are in the field, you will be doing what I would be thought to be doing while I will be keeping the marshal from doing excessive damage to our efforts. Why do you think I’ve been pushing all these exercises? They have all been designed to improve your order-senses and perceptions and shields. You will accompany one of the armed mounted heavy infantry companies that will be doing advance reconnaissance, and your duties are to help them gather as much information as possible about opposing forces while also keeping their casualties as low as practicable. You will also send messages directly to me with any strategic or tactical recommendations. You may make tactical recommendations to the company captain about his options. If anyone asks you, just say that you’re currently staff but will likely be reassigned.”
“Ser…I don’t know anything about military operations.”
Taryl laughed. “Neither does anyone else—not about land fighting. We haven’t fought any major battles on land in more than a century, and I have my doubts that all the manuals are that good. Just keep your eyes and senses open and use common sense. And try not to get killed. Troopers can be replaced more easily than mages.”
Mage-Guard of Hamor Page 13