Mage-Guard of Hamor (38 page)

“I think not. Not yet, and it will be an execution in the square. A very public execution.” Rahl smiled. “How close are the nearest rebel companies?”

Esryk didn't know, but they weren't that far.

“Twenty kays?”

The administrator didn't know.

“What did you do to support the rebels…?

“Who else is town is backing them…?”

Rahl kept asking questions, trying to sense and judge Esryk's silent reactions. In the end, he didn't discover much more than the fact that Esryk had been supplying and feeding a squad of rebels, that the man had probably been promised a position by Golyat or Ulmaryt, and that all the town's tariffs had been sent to Golyat in Nubyat.

After it was clear that either the man didn't know any more or Rahl couldn't discover it, Rahl ordered the troopers to hoist him onto a mount, and they rode back toward the River's Edge. Rahl just hoped that Taryl would be with the advance forces and could learn more from Esryk. It might even be better if Taryl were the one to execute the traitor.

Once Rahl had arranged for the traitorous administrator to be bound and confined in what amounted to a closet in the stable, with a trooper posted as a guard, he and fourth squad made a series of patrols of the river district of Helstyra. Hard as he tried, and it was difficult enough that his head was splitting by the time they finished, he could discover no other signs of rebels. He did get the impression that Esryk was far from the only one in the town who supported Golyat—at least tacitly—and he wondered why.

The other aspect of the town that struck him, as he was riding back to the inn after the patrols, was that all the women were covered from ankle to wrist to neck, and that the scarves and head coverings were far more substantial and opaque than those he had seen anywhere else in Hamor, especially more so than in Swartheld and Cigoerne.

He had just ridden back into the courtyard, when a trooper—Reolyn from first squad, Rahl thought—rode in behind him.

“Ser! The submarshal's forces are riding up the main street here, and the overcommander wants to see you.”

Rahl managed to dismount, although he staggered when his boots hit the ground.

“Ser,” called Fedeor, “we'll take care of your mount.”

“Thank you.”

Rahl hurried across the courtyard to the inn and out onto the wide front porch. A gust of wind chilled him, but passed, as he stood there alone. Before long, a score of outriders appeared, scanning everything. With them rode Drakeyt and first squad.

With the first full company, Rahl could make out Taryl. The overcommander eased his mount away from the company, although a squad followed him, and reined up next to the porch.

“Good afternoon, ser.” Rahl wasn't quite sure what else he could say.

Taryl dismounted, slightly stiffly, and handed the gray's reins to a squad leader, then climbed the two steps to the porch.

“Can we can sit in the corner of the public room?” asked the overcommander. “I could use something to drink. We've been riding harder than I'd like.”

“There's no one else there right now,” Rahl said. “There wasn't, anyway, a little while ago.”

Taryl gestured for Rahl to lead the way, and the younger mage-guard did, making his way through the foyer and into the public room, and to a corner table. Once there, Rahl gestured to the servingwoman.

“All we have is ale.”

“All?” Rahl raised an eyebrow. At least, that didn't hurt.

“There's a bit of lager, but not much.”

Rahl looked to Taryl, who nodded, then seated himself.

“If you could come up with two lagers, that would be appreciated.”

“Yes, ser.”

Rahl sat down across from the overcommander, whose thin face looked even more drawn. “I didn't see the submarshal,” Rahl finally offered, not wanting to ask.

“The submarshal is not with us. I find myself effectively acting as commander, and that's not my expertise. Fortunately, Commander Muyr has been a great help. I suggest something, and he tells me whether it is possible or wise, and then we discuss that.” Taryl sighed. “I'm a little sore. I'm not so young as I used to be.”

Rahl just nodded. He didn't really want to admit how stiff and sore he was.

“Before I hear what you've been doing, could you recommend where we might set up temporary headquarters?”

Rahl almost laughed. “I would suggest the rather elaborate residence of the town administrator.”

“Oh?” Taryl paused as the servingwoman set two mugs of lager on the table.

“Thank you.” Rahl did slip her a pair of coppers, because the lager was special, and got a momentary smile in return.

Once she left, Taryl looked to Rahl. “About the town administrator?”

“I have him in custody. He also owns and operates one of the barge businesses shipping goods up and down the river to Nubyat. He threw in with the rebels, but I couldn't find out much, except that he fed and supplied a squad, and that he's been sending all the tariffs to Golyat because he thinks Mythalt is weak and ruled by his consort.”

Taryl smiled faintly. “Do you think he is that much in error on that judgment?”

For a moment, Rahl was stunned. Then he reflected on what he had seen at the Imperial Palace, and the interaction between Taryl and the Empress. There had been something else there, too. He'd seen it at the time, in the way Taryl had looked at the Empress, almost sadly, yet with something more. Rahl decided not to mention that. Whatever that had been was Taryl's business. “I'd say she influences him. I don't see that as bad.”

“It is not bad. She has excellent judgment, far better than either Mythalt or Golyat, and she is more than Mythalt deserves, but what all Hamor needs.” Taryl nodded, as if to dismiss the issue of the Empress. “You think this residence is suitable?”

“It's the largest one I've seen. It has some grounds, a small coach house and stable, and the owner is a traitor, not only to the Emperor, but to his position as administrator. There are two other inns, but they're smaller…” Rahl shrugged, then winced.

“You've been injured, I see. What else happened?” Taryl's voice was almost tart, as if Rahl were a spoiled child.

“After the problems on the causeway, there was this hay wagon…” Rahl went on to explain what had happened, both with the makeshift barrel cannon, and then with the rebel squad on the roof.

Taryl just nodded, but with the overcommander's tight order shields, Rahl couldn't tell what the older mage-guard really felt.

“Anyway…we've been following orders, and checking the town. There are more than a few rebel sympathizers, but there don't seem to be any more outright rebels.”

“Have you checked to see who's not here?”

“Not here?”

“If there are a number of dwellings without men, particularly with young consorts, they've likely taken up arms with Golyat and gone to Nubyat. There can't be too many, because, if there were, they'd have mounted more resistance here. Still, that would give you a better idea of how many tacitly support the rebels.”

Rahl nodded slowly. He hadn't thought of that. Why was it that Taryl always could think of something he'd overlooked?

“Because I do have experience, and because you've gotten sloppy with holding your shields.” Taryl smiled, but there was an edge to his voice.

Rahl winced. The past days had not been good, and matters were not getting better.

“Did you check the tariff books to see how much was sent to Golyat?”

“No, ser.”

“What about the records of the barge business? What in the way of goods has he shipped downriver?”

“I don't know, ser.”

“You should.” Taryl sighed. “It could be that I'm expecting too much of you. I wouldn't have thought you'd have forgotten about commerce.”

“It was difficult to remember when so many people have been attacking us.”

“And afterward?”

Rahl didn't want to admit that he'd just been exhausted.

“I will question this administrator, but you will execute him tomorrow in public, in the square. That is not usually done, but there is a reason for that this time. Not a good one, but a necessary one.”

“Ser?”

“I will tell you later, when it is appropriate.”

Inside, Rahl stiffened, then forced himself to relax. Taryl had always acted in Rahl's best interests, and Rahl would just have to trust the overcommander. But he still hated it when people did things for his benefit without telling him why.

“And you will go over the records of the town and the barge operations.”

“Yes, ser.” After a moment, Rahl ventured, “I've had a few difficulties…”

“Most of us usually do in matters such as these.” There was little sympathy behind Taryl's words.

“There was something strange about the swamp and the causeway. I didn't want to put it in a message. I couldn't order-sense anything beyond a hundred cubits there, and nothing like that has happened to me recently.”

“That's because swamps are high in life force, and that provides a high level of background chaos of the type that's hard to sense. Also, that swamp had quite a number of stun-lizards, and they inhibit either order-or chaos-sensing. That's how they get close to prey. We're fortunate it's winter. They're not so active in the cooler weather.”

Rahl had to wonder if he would ever be able to learn everything Taryl wanted—or to meet all of Taryl's expectations. He could meet any one, or even two or three, at a time, but Taryl seemed to expect that Rahl could handle a score of them, all at once, even after almost being killed.

For a moment, he just closed his eyes. Then he took another swallow of the lager.

At midday on fiveday, Third Company rode into the small square west and south of the barge piers. The troopers lined up in formation with the statue of one of the earlier emperors at their backs. Then Taryl and a squad of the headquarters company followed and took position at right angles to Third Company. A good hundred townspeople had already gathered—the result of passing the word through the inns and elsewhere that justice was to be meted out upon the former town administrator. All the women were fully covered, and a number wore black head scarves, something he had not seen before.

Once the troopers were in place, Quelsyn and four troopers marched Esryk into the open space before the company. His hands were bound behind his back, and a white blindfold was across his eyes. Rahl then stepped forward, carrying his battle truncheon.

“Esryk, you have betrayed your post as town administrator. You have supported the enemies of the Emperor. You have sent the tariffs rightfully due the Emperor to the rebels, and you have attacked a mage-guard with a poisoned dagger. Each of these is an offense against the Codex, and for each the sentence is death.”

Rahl looked at the troopers. “On his knees.”

“I won't kneel to anyone, not to…”

The troopers backed away at Rahl's gesture.

Rahl had already determined what to do, even before he struck. He used his order-skills to move order from Esryk's neck, just below the base of his skull, then struck there with the order-boosted truncheon. The man's neck snapped, and he pitched forward onto the pavement in a heap.

“The fate of all traitors.”

A refuse cart, pulled by a bony swaybacked mare, creaked toward the dead body. Rahl turned and remounted, but waited, extending his senses, despite his continuing headache, and trying to gather reactions from those around the square.

“…didn't do anything a good merchant wouldn't…“

“…can't risk family and business for a weakling thousands of kays away…”

“…uppity bastard…always thought he was above everyone…”

“…like to see 'em apply the laws to them with golds…doesn't happen much…”

“…killed him with a truncheon…and going to throw him away like rubbish…insult to everyone here…”

“…like the trash he was under those fine clothes…”

Rahl said nothing until the two troopers picked up the body and tossed it onto the cart, and until they had remounted. “Third Company, to quarters!”

“To quarters!”

The troopers rode silently from the square. Even the murmurs from the townspeople remained low.

Rahl turned in the saddle and addressed Drakeyt. “I have to meet with the overcommander now.”

“Best of fortune.”

Rahl nodded acknowledgment and guided the gelding toward the headquarters squad. By the time he was a half block away from the square he was riding beside Taryl.

The overcommander glanced at Rahl. “We'll talk once we're not in public.”

“Yes, ser.” Rahl tried to pick up more reactions on the ride back to Esryk's mansion, but the locals either just looked or drew back.

Once they reached the temporary headquarters and dismounted, Rahl tied the gelding to a post outside the stable and followed Taryl inside, to a study off the south side porch.

The study in the mansion was small and surprisingly plain, with white-plaster walls, blue-velvet hangings framing the windows, and but a single bookcase, and that to one side of the large pillared desk with its rows of drawers.

Taryl sank into one of the armchairs flanking the hearth, cold, but filled with ashes. “Pardon me, but I'm still weary.” He gestured to the other chair.

Rahl sat, his body and head forward slightly, waiting.

“Rather impressive, the way you dispatched him,” Taryl said.

“I thought it had to be quick and decisive.” Rahl wasn't about to mention that the effort had intensified his headache.

“What did you learn?” asked Taryl. “You did try to observe the crowd, did you not?”

“Yes, ser.” Rahl cleared his throat, then continued. “No one was satisfied. Not for the right reasons. Those with golds were angry because they see Esryk as a man just trying to protect what he had. Those with less were glad he was killed just because he had more.”

“Do you think it created more respect for the Emperor or the mage-guards?”

“No, ser. Fear, but not respect,” Rahl admitted.

“Aren't they the same?”

Rahl pursed his lips. “I don't think so. I can't explain why, though.” He paused. “Except that fear can create respect, but I think that respect disappears when the fear does.”

Taryl nodded slowly. “Those are some of the reasons why public executions usually create more problems than they solve, and why we empower mage-guards to execute sentences upon the spot. Almost the only public executions are those of mage-guards who abuse their power.”

Rahl could see the reason for that.

“How do you feel about your duties with Third Company?”

“It doesn't feel like I'm helping much, not for a mage-guard.”

“That sounds more like a request for a pat on the back,” replied Taryl. “Very well. I can do that. Just how many of these ambushes and traps do you think most of the mage-guards assigned to the army would find? And what would it have been like without you—or without any mage-guard accompanying Third Company?”

Rahl considered. “They might find some, if they knew there were traps.”

“Would it not take much longer? Would we not have higher casualties? Far higher casualties without any mage-guard?”

“Yes, ser. I suppose so.”

“Now…does that make you feel more useful?”

Rahl smiled crookedly. “Not really, ser.”

“Why not?”

“I still feel I should be better at what I do.”

“Good. When you lose that feeling, you're on the road to the worst side of chaos.” Taryl coughed. “I have a few more questions for you.”

“Yes, ser.” Rahl was getting wary of Taryl's questions. They always seemed to reveal what he didn't know as opposed to what he did.

“Are you still thinking about that healer in Nylan?”

Rahl just looked at Taryl for a moment. That was the last question he would have expected. “Yes, ser. I'm still writing her, but I haven't had any way to send what I've written.”

“I'll be sending dispatches tomorrow, and we can include a letter with that. Now…what else have you discovered, beyond what you've reported?”

“The rebels have created a fair amount of trouble for Third Company, but they've lost very few real troopers.”

“What does that tell you?”

“They've thought out what they're doing and what territory they'll defend?”

Taryl nodded, then went on. “Esryk was sending the tariffs to someone in Nubyat, yet there are few true rebels here in Helstyra. What does that suggest?”

“Someone had been planning this revolt for a long time, and they cultivated the town administrators—or some of them?”

“Good. What else?”

“We should check every administrator from here to Nubyat. Their records—or those that are missing—will tell more than questioning them?”

“That's true. I'm glad to see that your mind is recovering. What does it tell you about the rebels?”

“The revolt was carefully planned, all the way down to how to obtain golds?”

Taryl nodded. “Let me ask you another question. Assume that we find most of the town administrators from here on have done the same—or disappeared—what does that point toward?”

“Someone knew who they were. But wouldn't Golyat know that as regional administrator?”

“No. Golyat is the kind who gives orders and expects them to be carried out.”

“So he's being supported by other lower administrators. That would mean that they weren't happy with the way things were going—or they weren't being recognized, or they were greedy.”

“Or some combination of all of the above.” Taryl smiled wryly. “Now…we need to go over what Third Company will be doing in the next phase of the operation—and what I expect from you.”

Rahl had the feeling that the afternoon was going to be long—very long.