Mage-Guard of Hamor (62 page)

For the next three days, Rahl did not see all that much of Deybri—except at dinner, twice in the staff quarters at the Residence and once more with Taryl in the private dining room. All three times, she was close to exhausted from her efforts with the remaining wounded—those who would likely not survive without the ministrations of a healer. While he enjoyed being close to her, and she was warm and looked at him with affection, that affection was restrained—and those restraints chafed at Rahl, no matter how much he told himself that he could appreciate Deybri's exhaustion and caution.

Sevenday was not that much different from any of his recent days. He'd begun by meeting with Taryl and briefing the administrator on the shortages of goods identified by the factors' council, primarily foodstuffs, as a result of the need to feed First and Second Army, as well as the difficulties caused by low water in the Awhut River, which limited the amount of cargo that could be carried downstream to Nubyat, and the timetable for repairing the sewer drains. After leaving Taryl, he'd ridden out to Water-Master Neshyl and conveyed Taryl's approval of the sewer project.

Then he'd returned to Nubyat and spent more time with the portmaster, arranging to have the channel dredged near the end of pier two, where one of the merchanters had almost grounded leaving port. That meant that none of the warships would be able to dock without risking getting hung up.

Following that, Rahl had made a riding tour of Nubyat, accompanied as he had been all day by three troopers from Third Company, checking on the patrollers and stopping to talk to crafters and shop proprietors, all as part of his efforts to get a better feel of the city as well as to reassure them that there would be no retributions against those who had not raised arms—or coins—in support of the revolt.

Although he did not spend that much time with any one crafter, the sun was barely above the masts of the trading schooner tied up near the foot of pier three when Rahl reined up outside the harbor mage-guard station.

Chewyrt was actually waiting when Rahl stepped into the front foyer where one of the younger patrollers was handling the duty watch.

“Ser.” Chewyrt inclined his head.

“Undercaptain, a few words.”

“In the study?” asked Chewyrt.

Rahl nodded. “It won't take long.”

“Yes, ser.”

Rahl followed the undercaptain to the small study, where he closed the door behind himself. As he glanced around, he could see that Chewyrt had rearranged the room, and that everything was spotless. There were neat stacks of paper on the table desk, and the draft of a duty schedule that the undercaptain had obviously been puzzling over. Rahl took the armless chair by the corner of the table desk and waited for Chewyrt to seat himself before he began.

“The administrator has indicated that you will get two more mage-guards sometime before the turn of spring.”

“That will help, but we will still have to rely heavily on the patrollers and pier guards.” Chewyrt gestured to the half-completed schedule. “It's hard to come up with a duty roster that doesn't exhaust everyone.”

“You could reduce the number of pier guards on eightday, at least for a while,” Rahl suggested. “If you haven't already.”

“I'd thought about it…”

“See how it works out and let me know.” Rahl cleared his throat. He still felt awkward, at times, although those moments were fewer, acting as if he were the regional mage-guard commander, but there wasn't anyone else. “From now on, you will also be responsible for discovering beginning mages here in Nubyat. Because your mages don't have that much experience, they're just to refer any incidents of magery to you for action.”

Chewyrt nodded. “That makes sense.”

“If you have questions, or would like someone else to observe such youngsters, just let me know.”

“I can do that.”

“You assigned Dhemyn, Perguyn, and Saol to the city station,” Rahl went on. “How is that working out?”

Chewyrt frowned, then pursed his lips. “I worry about Dhemyn. I've watched all three, and Perguyn and Saol are good at projecting authority so that they don't have to use chaos much at all. Dhemyn…he wants to be liked, and there's a difference between being polite and likable and needing to be liked.”

Rahl understood that. “What do you think might help?”

“I'd thought about switching him back here and sending Vhoral to the city station. It wouldn't matter as much on the piers because here, things are more…definite, and he'd have a chance to see more about how people use both the implication of chaos and charm. I'd also be able occasionally to point things out to him.”

Rahl nodded. “Go ahead and shift him. What will you tell him?”

“That I had to decide who went where in a hurry, but now that I've had a chance to get a better look at matters and schedules, I think he'll be more valuable here at the harbor station.”

“That's a good approach….” From there Rahl went over the ledgers with Chewyrt, both the supply ledger and the payroll ledger, and it was close to dinner by the time he finished and rode back to the small stable beyond the overcommander's villa.

When Rahl finally dismounted and led the gelding inside for grooming, he was thinking about how he was looking forward to having dinner with Deybri. Over the past few days, he'd managed to spend as much time as he could with her, but that depended on her free time—which was at dinner and little enough—given that she was often exhausted from dealing with the scores of injured who might not recover at all from their wounds without a healer.

Drakeyt was already grooming his mount outside the third stall, and he turned to Rahl. “Majer, I finally saw your healer.” The captain shook his head and laughed. “Now I can see why you wrote so many letters to her….”

“Was it that obvious?” Rahl was a little chagrined.

“Perhaps not that obvious, but I noticed. That's because I don't have anyone worth writing, and even if I could, I doubt that I'd be able to put it on paper well enough for anyone to want to read.”

“I'm sure you could.”

“Not like you.”

Rahl only laughed, then turned his attention to the gelding. He forced himself not to shortchange the grooming, but after he finished, he hurried to wash up and get to the staff dining chamber so that Deybri wouldn't feel that he'd forgotten her.

When he hurried into the dining chamber, she was sitting alone at a corner table in the chamber that held ten tables, although there were only ten or eleven others in the room. She set down the beaker of golden ale she had been sipping, and a slow smile crossed her face as he neared. “You don't have to hurry. I would have waited.”

Like Taryl, she had deep circles under her eyes, but Rahl only smiled in return. “When I can help it, I never want to keep you waiting.”

“You're kind.”

“No, you're the one who's kind. You're probably starving.” He slipped into the chair across the battered wooden tabletop from her, belatedly noticing the beaker of lager awaiting him. “Thank you.”

Almost immediately, the assistant to the cook set two platters on the table, along with a basket of bread. Each platter held four biastras—the Hamorian pepper-beef tubes that were floured and fried. “These are lamb, Healer…ser.”

Rahl had the definite impression that she still did not know how to address him, but he wasn't certain what title fit him. “Majer or ser will do,” he said after a moment, making sure his words were warm and kind.

“Yes, ser.”

Rahl could sense her relief. He could also sense more than a few pairs of eyes directed at the two of them.

“We're confusing them,” Deybri murmured. “We should either be eating here all the time, or with the administrator all the time.”

“We wouldn't eat half the time,” Rahl replied in a low voice. “He takes most of his meals in his study—or with the commanders at their mess.”

“He drives himself so hard, and he expects much,” murmured Deybri. “Those around him either wish to leave or to be as good as he is.”

“That can be rather difficult,” Rahl replied dryly.

“Would you have it any other way?”

Rahl flushed, but did not reply. Neither spoke more for several moments as they ate, hungry as they both were. Not until Rahl had finished the second biastra did he ask, “What did you do today? More healing?”

She nodded. “I can only offer healing to so many each day. There are some who died before I could get to them. There have been every day.”

“I'm sorry. That sounds like a long day. You must be tired.”

“I am tired,” she admitted. “There are still so many wounded. So many.” She straightened. “One of them knew about you. Not by name. He kept talking about a battle near someplace called Thalye, and about an officer with a long black truncheon who broke an entire battalion and killed scores single-handedly.”

Rahl winced. “That…there was at least a battalion coming down the road through the swamp, and if they'd gotten through, they could have turned our flank. Third Company had to stop them. I just did what I could.” Her question brought back images of the swamp, the ooze-traps he'd created, and the scores who had died, either at his hand or through his magery. He managed not to shudder.

“Rahl…”

He could sense the warmth behind that single syllable, but he still had to explain, even if the explanation wasn't enough. “It's just…I feel like you're trying to undo the damage that what I've been doing has caused. I know it's not true. I mean…I didn't cause the rebellion, and I'm not the one who wounded or killed our troopers, yet…” He shrugged, almost in frustration. “I'm supposed to be keeping and restoring order, and it seems as though what I'm best at is using it for killing and destruction.”

“What were you doing today?”

“I briefed Taryl, then rode out to the water-master to complete getting the sewer repairs started, made sure that the portmaster started on dredging out that sandbar near the end of pier two, checked on the mage-guards, talked to several crafters and shopkeepers, looked over what the new undercaptain was doing…”

“All that builds order.” She reached out and laid her hand on his.

The warmth of her touch gave him the courage to ask something that he had pondered more than once. “You've been most cautious with me, and I'm trying to understand and be patient, but at times…I feel as though…” How could he express what he felt? He swallowed and forced himself to go on. “I sometimes feel that it's not even between you and me, that there's something else, almost…someone else…”

Deybri nodded slowly, her eyes meeting his. “There was. Not anymore, not for years. The reason I went to Atla, one reason, was for Bhulyr. He was exiled, except he wasn't a mage. He wasn't much of anything, now that I look back. He was a junior trader, and he was assigned to the Merchant Association in Atla, and I thought I was in love with him. I begged, and I pleaded, and Uncle Thorl finally worked out something, and when I got there, Bhulyr had already taken up with the daughter of a local factor—and I had to stay for almost five eightdays. It was half a season that lasted a year.”

“You'd only told me that you were a healer for a trading company,” Rahl said evenly.

“I was. I needed more healing than anyone there. I was so in love with him. I would have done anything for him.” Her voice turned thoughtful, with just a touch of bitterness. “Young women in love, girls, can be so stupid.”

Rahl just listened. Had he taken advantage of Jienela in the same way? He tightened his lips. He had. He'd never thought of it in the way Deybri had put it.

“Rahl? You look so distant. What is it?”

“I was thinking. You must have heard how I ended up in Nylan, didn't you?”

“Not really. Leyla said that you'd gotten in trouble with a magister and used order in ways you shouldn't have.”

“I did.” Rahl didn't want to say more, but he had to be honest, especially after what Deybri had told him. “I also got a girl with child. I didn't mean to, but it was…I didn't want to consort her, but I agreed that I would if she and her parents insisted. It never came to that. Her brothers attacked me—they were much older, and then, I didn't even know I was an ordermage. Magister Puvort actually used some sort of order to lower their self-control. Taryl thinks he did that because he didn't want to deal with a natural ordermage.” Rahl forced himself to look squarely at Deybri. “In some ways, maybe I'm not any better than Bhulyr.”

“Do you regret what you did? Honestly?”

“I am sorry I led Jienela on. Even though it was as much her doing as mine, it wasn't fair to her.” And after what Deybri had said, and what he had sensed, he was even more regretful than he had been before. “I can't say I'm sorry about defending myself against her brothers or hurting them. I was trying to explain that we'd already arranged to talk to her parents. They didn't listen.”

“Rahl…Bhulyr was never sorry. He wasn't capable of regret. He couldn't understand someone else's pain.” Deybri put both her hands around Rahl's. “I could see what you felt just from my words. I didn't know why until you told me. So long as you feel like that, you'll never be like one of
them.
”

“I…how can…” Rahl wasn't sure what to say. He had been one of them. He hadn't meant to be, but…

“Rahl…do you remember what I said to you when we first met…about your being almost a pretty boy?”

He could hear the quiver in her voice as well as feel the uncertainty and the anguish, and it tore at him. He nodded slowly, unwilling to trust his voice.

“I was so…surprised…taken aback…by what I felt in seeing you…that…I said what I felt. After Bhulyr, I'd been so cautious. I never thought I'd ever again see anyone who attracted me, and then to see you…and realize how much younger you were, I wasn't thinking, and I couldn't believe what I'd said.” Her eyes dropped for a moment. “I just tried to pass it off. You knew better, and that frightened me. I'm supposed to be a grown healer, but, maybe, someplace deep inside, we're all still barely grown girls and boys.”