Mage-Guard of Hamor (10 page)

“I could be a weather mage?” Like Creslin?

“I don't know, but you certainly should be able to learn to read the weather.”

Taryl hurried up the steps, and Rahl had to scramble to follow him, but Taryl said nothing more until they were outside the building and headed toward the stables. Then he glanced toward Rahl. “What about the healer in Nylan? Are you still interested in her?”

“I was thinking about writing a letter, but I didn't think posting it here…”

Taryl nodded. “You're already understanding. Don't post it here, not if you don't want everyone to know what's in it. Oh, no one will open it, but some of the chaos types have skills that can reproduce the writing without breaking the seal, and as my assistant, those beholden to Cyphryt, or some others, will certainly wish to know your thoughts. You can post it somewhere on the way when we leave here. That would be best.”

“I'd wondered.”

“You won't return to Recluce, you know?”

Rahl looked hard at Taryl.

“I didn't say you wouldn't be able to,” replied the older mage. “I said you wouldn't, and you know that as well as I do. It's too small for you already.”

“She said that, too.”

“Your healer?”

“She's not mine.”

“But you wish she were.”

Rahl thought for a moment. “Not in that way. I can't ask her to join me here.” He laughed, ironically. “I don't even know that she could.”

“Like mages, healers are always welcome, and while the mage-guards sponsor them, they don't have to become mage-guards.”

“If I wrote her that…that would be a request.”

Taryl nodded. “It would be. Especially now, but don't hesitate to let her know how you feel.”

Rahl caught a sense of what almost felt like regret from Taryl, but he didn't wish to pry. “I'll have a letter ready for when we leave and can post it.”

“That would be best.”

Neither spoke as they neared the stables. Then, as they passed through the open doors, the older mage-guard nodded to the ostler who stepped forward. “We aren't riding. Rahl just needs to get more familiar with the horses.”

The woman nodded and stepped back. “You might try the big chestnut gelding in the corner. That stall makes it easy to get to the manger. He likes almost everyone.”

“Thank you.” Taryl smiled, turning toward the southeast corner of the stables.

Even before they reached the farthest stall, the chestnut was turning his head, trying to greet them. Taryl moved along the wooden side of the stall. “You like company, don't you? In a moment, you'll get a treat. Yes, you will.” He looked to Rahl. “I want you to try to sense what the horses feel. It will help you with riding, and I have the feeling that we'll be riding more than a little in the seasons ahead.” Taryl produced a pearapple and a small knife. He cut a slice off the pearapple, most carefully, then handed it to Rahl.

“Offer it to him on the flat of your palm. You're less likely to get nipped that way. Don't force any feelings. Just leave your order-senses open.”

Rahl stepped forward, pearapple ready.

The chestnut's muzzle was soft, and he lifted the slice of pearapple almost delicately.

Rahl thought he could sense…something.

“Wait a moment before you give him another.” Taryl handed another slice to Rahl. Rahl held it in the hand away from the chestnut.

The gelding tossed his head, then nuzzled Rahl's empty hand.

Rahl smiled. He could definitely sense something akin to impatience.

Even before breakfast on twoday, Rahl practiced with the small iron blocks. He also put small droplets of water on top of the blocks and tried to move the droplets. That was harder, but he managed. Was it because water embodied more order than moving water that was dispersed, as in the sand, was easier? He didn't know and wished that he now had a copy of
The Basis of Order.
At that thought, he laughed.

When Rahl walked into the mess for breakfast, he saw Edelya sitting at the women's table next to Saulya and another older mage-guard. He nodded politely to all three and took a seat beside Laryn and across from another mage-guard he hadn't met.

“Rahl, this is Rhyett. He's the assistant to Triad Fieryn.”

Rhyett grimaced. “I'm really the assistant to Kielora, and she's the principal assistant to the Triad.”

Rahl sensed the whitish aura of chaos around Rhyett. “That means you do everything that no one else wants to do?”

“That's absolutely right.”

“What sorts of things?”

“I get to read all the routine dispatches and reports and sort them. I work with Laryn here to prepare the draft reports on past and projected expenditures—we have to track what the stations and regions are spending, and compare them. That way, we can see if anything's out of line…”

Rahl half listened to Rhyett, but he was also aware of a conversation at the juniors' table that had begun after two of the juniors had glanced at Rahl, then looked away. Rahl extended his order-senses.

“…he's the one. Not a senior…”

“…claims he is…or might as well be one…”

“…too young…”

Rahl just smiled. Let them wonder.

“…and on top of all that,” Rhyett went on, “as if it weren't enough, I'm supposed to keep in touch with Director Cyphryt's assistants…” His words died away as his eyes flicked toward the women's side of the mess.

“Saulya?” asked Rahl quietly.

“She's one of them. At least, she smiles when she wants something, and she's good to look at. Vladyrt…” Rhyett just shook his head.

Much as he almost instinctively liked Rhyett, Rahl understood exactly why he was an assistant to an assistant. There was such a thing as being too open, especially in a place like Cigoerne. He wanted to snort. Much as Recluce supposedly valued honesty, even in Nylan few of the magisters wanted to hear the truth if it conflicted with what they wanted to believe.

“He thinks he's as important as Cyphryt?” Rahl asked with a smile.

“He's not quite that deluded, but he thinks that the director couldn't do anything without his help,” Rhyett replied.

“We'd all like to believe that,” said Laryn. “Why, I could claim that nothing would happen here because no one would get fed.”

“I can't even claim that,” Rahl said, taking a helping of sausage and egg toast.

“Someone said you were an assistant envoy to Recluce,” Laryn said. “That's not exactly nothing.”

Rahl shrugged helplessly. “I'm just a mage-guard who does what he's told and goes where he's ordered.”
And happy to be that, considering what could have happened.
He took a swallow of the pale lager that was becoming a morning staple for him.

Laryn and Rhyett exchanged glances.

Then Laryn laughed and said,

The words were clearly a quote from someone, but Rahl didn't recognize them. He
thought
he agreed with the sentiment if he had heard it correctly. More important, he decided Taryl should know about the rumors, since Rahl himself had told no one. In the meantime, he tried the egg toast and berry syrup.

After breakfast, Rahl and Taryl walked toward the coach waiting for them outside the entrance to the quarters' wing.

“I'm sorry if I haven't kept you more informed,” Taryl said, “but we'll have time to talk on the drive to High Command. It's a good six kays from here, even by the ring road.” He gestured for Rahl to enter the coach. “I like sitting on this side.”

Rahl settled himself and waited until they were moving before speaking again. “Someone has been spreading the word that I was an assistant envoy to Recluce.”

“You were,” Taryl replied amiably.

“But I've never told anyone. You told the mage-guard at the river docks, but I don't think he'd be telling people here.”

Taryl laughed. “As soon as Cyphryt saw you with me, I'm certain he checked on your assignment—if he didn't already know, which was more likely. He doubtless told his assistants, and they told others…”

“But…I wouldn't ever have been made that, except—”

“Rahl,” replied Taryl firmly, “that's life. None of us would be anything except for something. It doesn't always happen, but sometimes good things do come from trials. You wouldn't be here if Shyret hadn't drugged you and tried to destroy your memories. You wouldn't have met the healer in Nylan if you hadn't upset the magisters in Land's End.”

After a moment, Rahl nodded.

“Now…let me give you some background. The High Command is the direct authority over both the army and the navy—as well as over the naval marines and the mage-guards assigned to the army. Certain types of mage-guards are always assigned to the High Command. They're the chaos-mages who see things as either black or white. Who they are is better suited to military discipline and operations, but they never serve on vessels as crew, and the navy dislikes transporting them except when absolutely necessary. Chaos has no place in the normal working of a vessel. On the other hand, as the white wizards of Fairhaven have shown, it can be most useful in land battles. That is why you and I and other order-mages have been detailed to the High Command for the duration of the campaign against Prince Golyat and the rebels. The prince has almost no ordermages among his forces. Most ordermages would not be disposed to support a rebellion because it is, at least in most cases, a form of chaos. There are exceptions, of course, but this is not one of them.”

“Exceptions?”

“Were Emperor Mythalt a tyrant who acted arbitrarily and murdered and killed and created chaos, then the most ordered course of action might be a rebellion. He is not. Now…back to the High Command. The head of the High Command is the Overmarshal. That is Berndyt. Under him are the Land Marshal and the Sea Marshal, and under each of them are marshals with specific military or geographical commands…”

Rahl forced himself to listen as Taryl outlined the military chain of command and subsidiary organizations in exceedingly fine detail. At times, he glanced out the window, taking in the paved road and the small steads to the southwest. On the northeast side of the road, the dwellings were far closer together, as though the ring road were a sort of boundary.

After quite a time, Taryl paused. “We'll be there shortly. I doubt you'll remember everything I've told you, but this way, you won't look like a steer blinded by a chaos-bolt when someone mentions something you should know.”

“In other words,” replied Rahl, “I'm not supposed to look surprised or stunned no matter what.”

“Exactly.”

The building housing the High Command was markedly smaller than that holding the Mage-Guard Headquarters, just a single-story stone structure, with two wings in a chevron shape coming off a central rotunda.

“It's smaller…” ventured Rahl.

“Not really,” replied Taryl. “All the dwellings and buildings behind the hill to the west are part of the post. The marshals have large dwellings, and even those of the commanders are not small. The armory is half the size of the Mage-Guard Headquarters, but it's not obvious because much of it's underground.”

Rahl didn't see any of those buildings, just the command building on the grassy slope that ran down to the river.

“See that berm to the south?” Taryl pointed. “All the river docks and warehouses are behind that. All the other buildings are to the west and south of the hill that holds the command headquarters. It's a matter of impressions.”

Impressions. So the mage-guards wanted an impression of greater presence, while the High Command wanted to create the opposite impression?

“The thing about impressions, Rahl, is that, while we can tell ourselves that they are merely impressions, we still tend to believe what we see and experience. There's a reason why they're called impressions. They do impress themselves upon our mind and feelings. That's why those in power who are wise take care in the impressions they create. It's always harder to deal with opponents when you must not only overcome their physical power, but also the power they create within people and even within you.”

Rahl was still considering Taryl's words when the coach came to a halt.

Taryl stepped out, and Rahl followed. The receiving concourse was at the foot of a long set of wide stone steps that rose to the entrance—little more than a square arch supported by plain circular stone pillars. Taryl and Rahl started up the steps.

“This part of the hill isn't natural, is it?” asked Rahl.

“No. They built the hill around the hidden lower levels. I suggest you merely observe unless addressed directly.”

“Yes, ser.”

Once through the archway, they found themselves in an oblong foyer. A single long desk dominated the space, with two uniformed figures seated behind it.

An undercaptain who looked to be even younger than Rahl stepped forward from one side of the desk as he caught sight of the two mage-guards. “Senior Mage-Guard Taryl, ser?”

Taryl nodded. “This is my assistant, Rahl.”

“Ah…yes, ser. Marshal Byrna is expecting you. I'll escort you to the briefing room and tell him that you are here.”

As they followed the young officer down the corridor that led from the right-hand side of the entry hall, Rahl had the definite impression neither the officer nor the marshal happened to be expecting Rahl.

After walking briskly for over a hundred cubits—roughly a third of the way down the corridor—the undercaptain opened an unmarked door on the right-hand side of the corridor and stood back for the mage-guards to enter, then followed them inside. The walls of the briefing room were paneled in a golden wood, as were the casements of the three tall, narrow windows. There were no window hangings, and the only furnishings were an oblong table close to ten cubits in length, flanked by straight-backed chairs of the same golden wood as the paneling, and a set of cabinets against the wall at the foot of the table. The table was set parallel to the outer wall.

“The marshal and his senior staff will be here shortly, ser.” The undercaptain bowed slightly, turned, and departed.

Mindful of Taryl's earlier observations, Rahl said nothing but walked to the middle window and gazed out. The parklike grounds sloped down to the Swarth River, creating a sweeping view that seemed more suited to a grand estate than to a military headquarters. To the south, he could see a haze that suggested the river docks and far more practical and working facilities.

As Taryl cleared his throat, Rahl immediately turned.

A number of officers began to enter the briefing room, followed by a short and squarish man in an immaculate khaki uniform with the gold insignia of a marshal on his collars—a starburst above three crossed blades.

“Marshal Byrna.” Taryl's voice was polite, but he did not incline his head to the marshal.

“I believe that only your presence was requested, Mage-Guard.” Byrna's voice was a flat high baritone that fitted his triangular face and sparse goatee. His eyes were close-set and brilliant blue, and he stood half a head shorter than Rahl.

Taryl's eyes slowly traveled across the two commanders, the overcaptain, and the two captains who had stationed themselves around the conference table. “You have quite a staff here, Marshal.”

“I don't believe the size of my staff is exactly your purview.”

“Nor, I might reply,” said Taryl mildly, “is the size of mine yours.”

“What you do with your…staff elsewhere is your business, Mage-Guard. You, and you alone, will be briefed.”

“I think you might consider the matter in greater detail, Marshal,” Taryl replied, his voice still calm. “If Rahl is excluded, then I will have to spend extra time briefing him. That means I will have less time and energy to devote to assisting you, Marshal, and that would not be good for anyone, but particularly for you…”

“Aren't you putting your time above mine, Mage-Guard?”

“No, Marshal, I'm not. It takes nothing from you to include Rahl. It takes time from me if you do not.”

“I trust you, Mage-Guard Taryl. I do not even know this Rahl.”

“If you trust me, Marshal, then you must trust my judgment. If you question my judgment in this, how can I be certain you will trust my judgment in other matters? Such lack of trust benefits neither of us.”

The marshal frowned, then shook his head. “Words…”

“Do you wish the assistance of the mage-guards?” Taryl's voice remained calm, but each word was like iron.

“You are not on Triad anymore.”

Taryl smiled. “No, but do you think I relinquished the abilities with the title?”

The oldest commander tried to conceal a wince.

“Do what you will.” Byrna snorted and gestured toward the table, taking a seat at one end.

Taryl took his seat at the other end. After noting that the senior commander sat to the marshal's right, Rahl took the chair to Taryl's right.

“Before we begin the briefing proper,” Byrna said, irritation still in his voice, “I'd like a clarification of what services the mage-guards will provide.”

“We're detailed to provide a certain level of protection for you and your staff against rebel mages.”

“Except to protect me and my staff, what other services do you provide?”