Mage-Guard of Hamor (4 page)

“Yes, magistra. Undercaptain Craelyt had already killed the captain, and he was working with the Jeranyi. If I hadn't set off the cammabark in the Merchant Association compound, we might have lost much of the harbor area.”

After that, there were more questions.

“Can you be absolutely certain that Director Shyret was involved?”

“How did you know the Jeranyi were using these…pickle barrels?”

“Wasn't there any other way to stop them?”

“Why didn't you bring this to the attention of your superiors earlier?”

“Were there other indications that might have allowed earlier actions?”

Rahl answered each question as thoroughly and honestly as he could, trying not to become even more irritated by their skepticism and arrogance.

And finally, “Do you honestly expect us to believe this?”

At that point, Taryl cleared his throat. “You are all black mages. You all
know
that Rahl and I are telling the truth. You also should know that the Emperor would not send us across an entire ocean if he did not respect you and believe you should know the facts. We could easily have claimed that the fire and explosion were accidental and sent no one. Such fires do occur.”

“Why
are
you here, then?” asked Myanelyt.

“To confirm for you that the Jeranyi were working through your own director, and, as Rahl tells me the magisters in Land's End have already acknowledged and acted upon, that the Jeranyi do not have the best interests of Recluce in mind. We also wished to confirm by our presence, and by our allowing you to question us as necessary, that they were using your facilities to strike against Hamor. We thought you should know this and that you should learn of it in a manner in which you could verify the truth for yourselves. It is well-known that no one can lie to the magisters of Nylan without it being more than obvious to them.”

Finally, Myanelyt rose and bowed. “Envoy Taryl, you have been more than patient, and we appreciate your forbearance. We will convey these findings to the Merchant Association as well. While it is premature for us to make any decisions, not until we have evaluated what you have presented, if matters are as you have indicated, it would seem unlikely that we would wish to engage in any actions that would be interpreted as hostile. We wish you a speedy and safe return to Hamor.”

“Thank you,” replied Taryl. “It is likely that we will depart tomorrow, but that will depend upon the weather and whether Captain Jaracyn has been able to fill all the bunkers.”

All the Nylan mages rose, concluding the meeting. Rahl followed Taryl from the chamber.

Tamryn was waiting in the corridor outside. “I would be happy to drive you back to your ship.”

“I will avail myself of that offer,” Taryl said.

As they walked out of the building, Rahl looked to Taryl, and said in a low voice, “Would you mind if…?”

Taryl laughed softly. “I thought you might. Just remember that Captain Jaracyn will wish to leave close to dawn tomorrow.”

“Because the
Ascadya
is needed in Hamor? To deal with the rebellion?”

“And more, I fear.” Taryl smiled. “There's a lady, isn't there?”

“She's a healer.”

The older mage reached into his belt wallet, then extended a coin. “Take her to dinner, and be back on board before midnight.”

Rahl almost swallowed as he realized Taryl had given him a gold. “You…”

“No, I don't, but you conducted yourself well, and we were provided coins in case of need. This is a need.” Taryl nodded. “Nothing in life is certain, and you may never see her again. So give her something she can remember.”

Rahl could sense Tamryn's amazement and concern, but he just smiled, then watched as the magister drove Taryl back toward the black ship piers. After a moment, he turned and began to walk toward the infirmary.

He could sense the puzzled gazes as he passed the mess and turned westward on the stone walk. When he entered the foyer, he recognized the younger healer. “Kelyssa?”

She looked at him, staring at the unfamiliar dress uniform, as if she could not remember but should. She started to frown, as if to suggest that he was not welcome.

“I'm Rahl. Is Deybri here?”

“Rahl?” Kelyssa's mouth opened, but she said nothing for several long moments. “Rahl?”

“The same one you had to pick up off the weapons training floor,” he added. “Is Deybri around?”

“Is someone asking for me?”

Rahl turned at the sound of her voice.

As Deybri walked toward him, Rahl just watched, taking in the brown hair, the gold-flecked brown eyes, and the warmth within.

She stopped two cubits from him, then laughed, abruptly, but warmly.

Rahl could sense that she was pleased, but not exactly why, and he found himself smiling, if quizzically.

“Oh, Rahl…that look was the greatest compliment I've ever had.”

He found himself flushing. “You deserve it.”

“That's a Hamorian mage-guard uniform, isn't it? You didn't mention that in your letter.” Her eyes did not quite meet his.

“I wasn't a mage-guard then. I was working to be one, but I didn't know if I'd make it, and I wrote as soon as I could…after…everything happened.”

“Everything?”

“Is it possible that I could take you to dinner somewhere? I only have tonight. Then I could tell you…”

“I…” Deybri turned and looked at Kelyssa. “Would you?”

“How could I not?” The younger healer grinned. “It'll make a great story.”

“Kelyssa…”

“Someday, anyway,” added Kelyssa.

Deybri looked hard at the other healer.

“In a few years?”

Deybri nodded.

Rahl managed not to grin as he turned and accompanied Deybri. Outside the infirmary, he glanced sideways at her once more. If anything, she was more beautiful than he recalled.

“Before I forget,” Deybri said, “I did send a letter to your parents—”

“Oh…can I post one from here, if I pay for it? I wrote one to them on the ship.”

“We could stop by the bursar's study,” Deybri said. “It might cost a copper or two more, but it would be easier than going down to the Merchant Association.”

“That might be best, for several reasons.”

“Oh?”

“That's part of the everything I'm going to tell you.”

Deybri led the way back to the main building and down a side corridor off the main corridor and on the east side—well away from where Rahl and Taryl had met with the magisters.

The bursar, an older woman in dark gray, looked up with a clearly startled expression on her face as Rahl and Deybri appeared in the door to her study.

“Elyssa?” Deybri said with a smile. “This is Rahl. He was trained here, and he's now a mage-guard in Hamor, but his ship is in port here. He wanted to send a letter to his parents in Land's End. He can just pay you, can't he?”

“Oh…that won't be a problem.” The graying bursar tilted her head. “From what I heard, he's not just an ordinary mage-guard.”

Rahl found himself flushing as he extended the envelope. “How much will it be?”

“Oh…not that much. Four coppers. We'll just put it in with everything to the portmaster at Land's End.” Elyssa took the envelope and the coppers from Rahl. “Good hand, best I've seen in years.”

“I was once a scrivener,” Rahl admitted.

“It shows.”

“Thank you.” Rahl inclined his head.

“That's what we're here for…among other things.”

Deybri was smiling and shaking her head as they walked back outside into the late-midafternoon sunlight filtering intermittently through scattered clouds to the west.

Rather than ask what Deybri was thinking, Rahl took a half silver from his wallet. “Thank you for letting my parents know. I said I'd repay you when I could. Will this do?”

“It's more than enough. It's—”

“It's not,” Rahl said. “I can't thank you enough.” He pressed the small coin on her.

Deybri finally took it. They walked on the west sidewalk of the stone-paved road that led down to the harbor, leaving the training center behind.

“You don't mind walking, do you?” Rahl asked, after they passed an older large stone dwelling he did not remember. “I'd thought we could get an early meal at the place where your uncle took us…”

“If you let me pay for myself.”

Rahl shook his head. “I was given coins for a meal here. There's enough for both of us.”

“So long as you're not paying. Mage-guards aren't wealthy. I do know that.”

“The pay's not bad, better than what I would have gotten as a journeyman scrivener in Land's End.” And far better than he'd gotten as a clerk at the Merchant Association or as checker at the ironworks. “How have you been?” He really wanted to tell her that the past did have a hold on him, but something told him not to rush that, and not to blurt it out—much as he wanted to do just that.

“I'm fine. Nothing much has changed here. Thankfully, we haven't had anything like that boiler explosion since you left. I understand that the harbormaster has refused landing to several older ships. They've had to moor offshore.”

“Did they ever fix the black wall?”

Deybri laughed. “About a season after you left. Tamryn and Kadara were muttering about it for weeks after that.”

Across the road from them, a patroller stopped and stared, clearly startled by a couple where the woman was in the green of a healer and the man in a Hamorian dress uniform.

“You still do manage to startle people, I see,” Deybri said.

“They're just not used to seeing Hamorian mage-guards. We might be the first ever actually to walk through Nylan.”

“That's possible. Where is your ship?”

“At the naval piers. The engineers moved out all the black ships. We came on a frigate—the
Ascadya.
I think the idea was to get us here quickly on a warship to convey the presence and concerns of the Emperor, but on one that wouldn't be seen as a threat.”

Rahl glanced to his right, toward the small park he had often passed on his way to the harbor. He had thought he might see children playing hoop tag, but the only person in the park was an elderly man feeding bread crumbs to the traitor birds.

“You've been through a lot, haven't you?” she asked softly.

“It has been a long year,” he admitted. “The hardest part was finding out that Shyret was betraying Recluce and not being able to do anything about it.”

“Oh?”

“The Hamorian Codex doesn't look at things in the same way. There are great penalties for selling shoddy goods or spoiled ones, or for misrepresenting them. But there are no penalties for things like what Shyret was doing. He was telling the Association here that a portion of the goods had spoiled, and then selling them on the side. So the Association had to take the losses…” Rahl tried to explain what had happened and why it wasn't against Hamorian law, and how he had had no real proof of what Shyret was doing. “…and it would only have been my word against his. That was why I'd decided to see the mage-guards on oneday.” He shook his head wryly. “You'd think I'd have learned not to wait on something like that. That was how I ended up in Nylan, you know. I waited till oneday to see Magister Puvort in Land's End.”

“There's a fine line between when to wait and when not to,” Deybri said quietly.

That, Rahl had learned, but he wasn't sure he could always discern when to wait and when not to. He gestured toward the lane on the east side of the road. “Your house is down there, isn't it?”

“It is. Well…it's not really mine. It's Uncle Thorl's, and I pay him rent. Healers at the training center don't make that many coins, either.”

“Oh…I didn't know.”

“You wouldn't have, Rahl. I never told you.”

There was so much about her that he really didn't know, Rahl reflected, and yet…beyond all that, there was something beyond her warmth and beauty that drew him to her. But, to say that would be so presumptuous…but would he ever have another chance to utter such words in person?

As they entered the restaurant, Rahl saw a slender graying man with his back to the entrance talking to a server. Even so, Rahl recognized him. As before, the proprietor was dressed in spotless khaki trousers and shirt, but this time his vest was chartreuse edged in silver thread.

“Kysant, I know you may not have a table,” began Rahl in Hamorian, with an apologetic smile, “but I would be most grateful…”

The proprietor turned…and froze, looking at the mage-guard uniform. After a long moment, Kysant looked from Deybri to Rahl and back to Deybri.

“He's from Recluce, Kysant,” Deybri said softly. “He's eaten here with Thorl, and he was exiled for a time. So they sent him back as an envoy to the magisters.”

“Would it help if I spoke Temple?” Rahl asked in that language, accompanied by a sheepish grin.

“You…startled me, ser. You…”

“Could we just have a table?” Rahl asked. “The last meal I had here was so good…”

“Oh…of course…” Kysant escorted them to a corner table, one with no one seated nearby, not that there were many in the place, not when it was still late afternoon and not an end-day. He seated Deybri.

Rahl sat across from her.

“Can I get you something to drink?” asked Kysant.

Rahl looked to Deybri. “Leshak?”

She nodded.

“Two, please.”

After the proprietor hurried away, Deybri looked to Rahl. “You scared Kysant. He saw you in that uniform, and it terrified him.”

“I think his parents must have told terrible stories about the mage-guards,” reflected Rahl. “He didn't grow up in Hamor, from what your uncle said.”