“So you just kill them with magery and use your big stick to hold off attackers?”
Rahl smiled, sadly, before he replied, but he saw no point in lying. “No. I’ve killed men both ways. It’s just a different kind of weapon.”
“Leastwise you’re honest about it.” She handed him a piece of charcoal. “Rough it out on the board here.”
“Can you use those barrel hoops to bind it below the hilt and at the striking end?”
“I can. Won’t be as strong as forged iron.”
“It’ll be stronger than unbound wood.”
She nodded, then watched as Rahl loosened the scabbard from his belt, setting it on the wood and using it as a rough guide as he sketched the truncheon he had in mind.
“Good hand. Could have been an artist.”
“I was a scrivener once.”
“They still have those?”
“In places.” Rahl finished the sketch. “This is a guide. You know woods better than I ever will. Just do your best and make it so it will fit in the scabbard.”
“Might have some old oak that would do. More work that way.”
“How much?”
“Be at least two silvers.”
“I can afford that. Can you crosshatch the hilt or something to give a better grip?”
The cooper smiled. “I’ll find a way.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, Majer. You’re paying good silvers for it.”
“I’ll check with you tonight.”
“Be fine.” The cooper did not leave her bench but watched as Rahl left.
He could sense that she was not angry, but vaguely pleased, and somewhat puzzled, but about what he could not sense.
Once outside, before he mounted, he recovered the patrol truncheon from his saddlebags and tucked it inside his riding jacket because Khelra had his scabbard, not that the standard truncheon had fit that well in the scabbard Taryl had provided for the riding truncheon.
Third Company was mustering on the damp dirt to the west of the barn as Rahl rode up and eased the gelding to a halt beside Drakeyt.
“That didn’t take long. She can do it?”
“She says she can. Whatever she does will be better than having nothing.” Rahl had the feeling it would be far better than just a staff with a hilt, given the underlying pride in the young cooper.
“True enough. You’re taking fourth and five squads?”
“That what the overcommander suggested.” Taryl’s orders had been simple. He wanted Rahl and Third Company to check the old road and make sure that whatever side roads or lanes ran from it to the main road were shown on the maps or added to them, and that there were no rebel forces positioned to use such roads. One squad was also detailed to make another sweep of the main road all the way to Thalye. “You’re handling the main road?”
“I haven’t been that way. It might be good to see where we’re headed next before the rebels get there.”
“If they do. Maybe the ones I found are just a vanguard and waiting for a larger force to join them.”
“Look who’s cheerful now.”
Rahl just shook his head wryly, then waited for the muster reports from the squad leaders to Drakeyt.
Rahl’s squads had no more left Lahenta and turned westward on the side road that led to the old road between Kysha and Nubyat than a faint drizzle began to drift from the clouds overhead, damp and cold, and more chilling than some snow Rahl had felt. The chill and the rain might have been what kept holders and others inside, especially since it was what passed for winter in that part of Merowey, and there was no pressing need for field work. Or they might just be avoiding the Imperial troopers.
Abruptly, Rahl could feel that someone was watching him, yet he could sense no one nearby. He continued to ride along the lane leading to the old road, scanning the woodlots and the meadows, as well as the winter-tilled fields. He still saw nothing, and could sense only animals and the occasional steadholders and their families. Then, as suddenly as the feeling had come, it vanished.
That incident left him feeling most uneasy.
He tried to keep Taryl’s advice in mind, checking the roads, the lanes, the wooded areas, and speculating on how he would respond to an attack from various points, not that he sensed any rebels—or even any riders—anywhere.
Slightly after noon, the same sense of being watched struck him again, coming from nowhere. How could anyone do that?
He tightened his order shields, and the feeling vanished.
As it did, he had a sickening sense that he had done the wrong thing. He had been watched, but not by someone nearby, but someone using a glass, just as he had done that morning. Whoever it was could not watch for long, but he had let them know he could sense it, and that gave whoever it was more knowledge of Rahl and his abilities.
He took a deep breath. Once more, he’d learned something because he really hadn’t thought about it. He had to wonder when he might end up paying for that mistake…and how.
LIX
During the remainder of the patrol and scouting on threeday, Rahl had sensed the unknown mage-guard or white wizard screeing him twice more, but he had made no effort to increase his shields when he had felt the intrusion, uneasy as that had made him. Should he have kept himself more tightly shielded? If he did, he got tired more quickly, and he alerted the other mage to his abilities. If he didn’t, he revealed his position. There didn’t seem to be a good answer, and he really wanted to talk to Taryl about it. Belatedly, he realized that he should have discussed it sooner…except that he couldn’t have because he hadn’t known that he could sense someone using a glass to find him.
Because Rahl and fourth and fifth squad did not return to Lahenta until well after sunset on threeday, and because Rahl felt he needed to talk to Taryl, he did not stop at the chandlery to check on how Khelra was coming with the replacement truncheon. But when he reached the barn that was serving Third Company, Drakeyt handed him a message from Taryl that said the overcommander would be unavailable until immediately after muster on fourday, when he expected to see Rahl.
At that point, Rahl wondered if anything was going to turn out as it should. He’d found no sign of rebels or their tracks. He’d been detected by a rebel mage, and he couldn’t even meet with Taryl to report what little he knew or to get some advice on how to deal with the mage who was screeing him. On top of that, two mounts in fifth squad had gone lame, and Rahl still had no idea if he’d have a replacement truncheon. Drakeyt informed him that none of the other squads had found any trace of rebels, and Rahl had to wonder if he was just imagining things when he used the glass.
Needless to say, he slept less than well and woke well before dawn, shivering in his bedroll. The air was damp and chill, not quite cold enough for frost, but a dew of ice-cold water covered everything outside the barn, and Rahl’s breath was like steam in the chill air even inside the barn.
Once he got himself ready and moving enough that he wasn’t shivering, Rahl took out the screeing glass and hung it from a rusty spike in a corner of the barn where he was not too close to anyone and concentrated on trying to locate the nearest rebel force. As soon as the mists cleared, Rahl studied the small glass carefully. The entire grassland area looked to be filled with troops, with cooking fires glowing in the predawn gloom, and smoke mixing with a faint and misty fog that softened the outlines of everything.
He tried to imagine the image as if seen from higher and farther away. The mists swirled, and the image reappeared. There were more troops and fires than before, extending for several kays—or so it seemed. For a moment, Rahl just looked, then released the image. What he had seen hadn’t looked or felt like an illusion, but the only solid indication he’d had that his visions in the glass were in fact real had been his finding the broken kaystone.
He didn’t see Drakeyt. So he ate stale rations—all the rations were stale—and then saddled the gelding.
Since Taryl had ordered Rahl to report to him im
mediately after muster, Rahl was at the chandlery/cooperage before muster. He didn’t have to knock.
Khelra opened the door even before he set foot on the narrow porch. “Figured you’d be here early. Looks like all of you are going to be moving out pretty soon.”
“That’s likely, but I haven’t been told yet.”
“It’s on the bench. I’ve been working and polishing it. There’s a way to harden it without making it brittle.” She turned.
Rahl followed her through the dimness.
The truncheon lay on the workbench beside the scabbard. Rahl just looked at the smooth length of dark oak, the slightly curved iron guard, and the iron bands below the guard and at the blunt tip of the truncheon. The grip was of crosshatched bone. Rahl could sense the internal order that resided in well-crafted work…and perhaps more than that. “It’s beautiful.”
“Because it’s all one piece. It’s part of an old staff,” Khelra explained, “I didn’t use rivets on the grip. That’s why there’s an iron cap on the end of the hilt, and that iron circle above the grip. Some of it’s crude, but I didn’t have much time.”
Rahl laughed warmly. “If that’s crude, I’d really like to see a fine piece of your work.” He lifted the weapon, amazed at its balance. It was slightly heavier than the one Taryl had given him, but that was because of the iron. The heavier weapon might serve him better in any case. He slid it into the scabbard. It fit as though the two had been made as a set.
“You said two silvers,” Rahl said, reaching for his belt wallet.
“I did.” Khelra’s voice carried amusement…and wariness.
He handed Khelra five silvers. “It’s worth more than that, but…even majers don’t have a lot of coin.”
“That’s more—”
Rahl almost said, “My life’s worth more than five silvers.” He did not, realizing that would sound callous and somehow cavalier. Instead, he replied. “What you did is worth more than you asked for. I’m only being as fair as I can be.” That was also true. He did have more coin, but he didn’t dare give her as much as her work was worth.
He loosened his belt, then replaced the scabbard that held the new truncheon.
As he adjusted the scabbard, a faint smile touched the corner of her lips. “May your order sustain you, Majer. The Emperor is fortunate to have you serving him.” She grinned for a moment. “You even sound almost like you belong in Merowey.”
“I’m from much farther away, but I appreciate your words.” He nodded. “I have to report for duty. Thank you. I can’t say how much I appreciate it.”
“You have, Majer. A crafter can tell when something’s appreciated.”
Again, when Rahl left the cooperage, he could feel her eyes on his back…as well as a certain wistfulness. He was glad Khelra couldn’t see the flush on his face.
Outside, he mounted quickly, noting that his breath no longer steamed, but the air remained cold and raw as he rode back to the barn and where Third Company was forming up for muster.
Drakeyt glanced at Rahl as the mage-guard rode up beside him. “How did she do?”
“Better than I deserved.” Rahl smiled, then drew the truncheon and extended it so the captain could see.
“Much better,” Drakeyt agreed. “But you’ll need it.”
Rahl was all too certain that he would.
After muster, Rahl excused himself and rode back to the square and Gorsyn’s mansion. He had to wait in the foyer for a time, before an undercaptain appeared, opening the door to the study.
“Majer…the overcommander will see you now.”
Rahl followed the young officer’s gesture and stepped into the study, closing the door behind him.
Taryl nodded to Rahl, but did not rise from behind the desk that held an array of maps of various sizes. “I see you managed to replace your truncheon.”
“Yes, ser,” replied Rahl, rather than point out that he did listen to Taryl, and more than just occasionally. “I wanted to report to you last night, but it took us a while to carry out a full scouting of the old road to the south.”
Taryl nodded. “What did you discover?”
“There’s no sign of rebels at any time recently, but there was something else. A white wizard or a chaos-mage…well, it felt like one of them was looking at me with a screeing glass. I don’t know that, but that was the way it felt.”
“If you felt it, then it doubtless was.” Taryl frowned. “If you could sense them, you’re not using enough in the way of order shielding.”
“More shielding takes more effort, ser. I can’t seek out rebels nearby for as long or as well—”
Taryl snorted. “You’re giving me the same kind of excuses you gave the magisters in Nylan. Of course, proper shielding takes effort. Proper anything takes effort. If you don’t work at it, you won’t get any stronger. The more you stretch yourself, the more able you become. Without me around, you’re slipping back into lazy patterns, and you’re failing to demand enough of yourself.”
Although Taryl had not raised his voice, Rahl felt as though he had been tongue-lashed with fine order-whips. “Yes, ser. I’ll work on that more.”
“You should have been working on it all along.” As almost always, Rahl could not sense what the overcommander felt behind his shields.
“Yes, ser. I used the glass again this morning,” offered Rahl, trying to change the subject.
“What did you discover?”
“The grasslands south of Thalye—I think that’s where they are—are filled with troopers and lancers. It’s hard to tell, but I’d say that they might outnumber your forces.”
“They probably do. The grasslands favor lancers over mounted infantry, or foot, not that we have many of those.” Taryl cleared his throat. “Captain Drakeyt will be joining us shortly, and I will be explaining what Third Company will be doing in preparation for the coming battle. There will be one, you know. Golyat did not want to fight in the hills or too far from Nubyat, but the midlands are well suited for his lancers.”
“They’re like the ancient mirror lancers, aren’t they?”
“Golyat always wanted to emulate them, but his lancers are far less capable than the Cyadorans on whom they were modeled. For one thing, he cannot formulate true cupridium. His lances are polished iron over spruce or something similar. They’re heavier and not nearly so strong.”
“Can anyone formulate cupridium today?”
“It’s said that the white wizards occasionally expend the effort to create special blades for white wizards, but that may be a rumor.”
There was a quick knock on the door of the distiller’s study, and an undercaptain eased his head into the room. “Captain Drakeyt is here, ser.”
“Have him come in, Smadyn.”
“Yes, ser.”
“Overcommander…Majer.” Drakeyt nodded to both Taryl and Rahl.
“Thank you for being so prompt, Captain. Normally, of course, you would receive orders through the chain of command, but since you are on detached duty and will remain so, I find that it is better than I explain your orders directly so that there will be no misunderstandings.” Taryl looked to Drakeyt, then to Rahl.
“Yes, ser,” replied both officers, almost simultaneously.
Taryl smiled pleasantly. “Tomorrow all our forces will move forward to the south side of Thalye. There you will conduct routine scouting, but you will not initiate any contact with the rebels. They have drawn up some four kays south of Thalye, doubtless to remain clear of uneven terrain and to draw us away from the higher ground of the hills to the north of the town. At the proper time, we will allow ourselves to be drawn into battle on ground that seems to favor them.” The overcommander looked at Rahl first this time, then at Drakeyt, before continuing. “Third Company has become very effective in showing initiative and in operating independently. Rather than attempting to integrate your initiative into the main plan for this coming battle, I intend to place you on the far-left flank—not out of the battle, but where you can u
se that initiative to make a difference.” After a pause, the overcommander added, “There is also another reason. The ground there borders bogland and swamp, but there is a narrow corridor of solid ground that could be used for a feint or a limited attack. I would prefer not to have major forces diverted when we are likely to need all the companies we have.” Taryl stood and pointed to the map. “Here is where the road from Lahenta enters the grasslands, and where the rebel forces are likely to be arrayed…”
Rahl studied the map and listened, as well as trying to get a hint of what Taryl might have in mind beyond what he said, but the older mage’s shields were impermeable and let nothing slip. All Taryl radiated was concern and an attempt to make clear what he wanted from Third Company.
LX
As outlined by Taryl, on fiveday, Third Company scouted the way in advance of Second Army from Lahenta. Well behind Third Company, a long column of troopers—and behind them supply wagons—made their way along the paved main road to Thalye, the road that would eventually carry Second Army to Nubyat—if they could defeat the rebels. This time, Rahl made certain his shields were stronger. He also practiced as much as he could with his new truncheon, trying to get the best feel he could of the weapon and how it handled. Settling into Thalye that night was uneventful.
Well before dawn on sixday, Drakeyt and Rahl led Third Company out of Thalye by a side lane that skirted the hills to the north and east of the town, and then turned southward toward the boglands due south. The grasslands that stretched south of Thalye were more to the southwest. The outriders were only a few hundred cubits ahead, because there were no trees and little cover, and the grass that was usually knee high had been beaten down by winter to calf height in most places.
“It may be an honor to be trusted with protecting the flank,” murmured Drakeyt under his breath, “but why do so many honors involve getting up before the sun?”
Rahl just smiled in the deep gloom. His question was different. Why was it that no matter how much he did and learned, it never seemed to be enough for Taryl anymore?
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