Mage-Guard of Hamor (64 page)

Twoday passed rapidly, doubtless because Rahl felt as though he walked and rode without effort. Almost from the moment he had first seen her, he had known that Deybri was the only woman for him, but that had not meant that she had felt the same—or wanted to. Still, as he went about his duties, he did have to make an effort to keep from smiling all the time. He'd also had to promise Deybri that he would not talk about what the future might bring for the two of them until after the revolt was completely put down.

The joy of knowing of her love had momentarily distracted him from Taryl's inquiry about Rahl's question after the battle of Thalye, but he knew that Taryl had asked to jog him into thinking about it. As he entered the Administrator's Residence on threeday, Rahl was reminded once more. How could he have forgotten? He still recalled his reaction and how he had felt—as if he could never do enough to satisfy Taryl.

Taryl had just said something like, “Oh, that.”

Why was Taryl bringing it up now, when Rahl was riding from point to point trying to get more things working throughout the city, when everyone wanted his or her problems resolved…?

Rahl suddenly stiffened and stopped. That was it! No one, especially not an officer or an administrator, could ever meet everyone's expectations. After the past eightdays, that had become more than clear, but he just hadn't related it to what Taryl had said.

His smile was ironic as he started up the stairs. When he finally eased past Falyka and into the Regional Administrator's study, he found Taryl standing by the window, looking out at a gray sea under a greenish gray sky.

“Quite a good view, ser,” Rahl observed.

Taryl half turned. “I actually would prefer the villa of the regional overcommander of the mage-guards, but people believe in symbols, and they need the symbol of a regional administrator in the Residence, temporary as that may be, since we'll be leaving to deal with Sastak and wiping up the last part of the revolt.” Pointing to his left at the villa with the blue-tile roof, Taryl snorted. “That was more than large enough for me. It's considered quite modest, even if it is large enough for two families, with room to spare, not that the overcommander here has ever had a young family before.”

Rahl looked. The overcommander's villa still didn't look modest to him—except in comparison to the massive Administrator's Residence. The smaller villa was still two stories with a blue-tile roof and a covered balcony terrace overlooking the harbor. It had its own carriage house and a walled garden, not to mention the nearby barracks with the quarters for three officers, one of which Rahl had been enjoying—and feeling guilty at times when he thought of how poorly the other officers were quartered.

“We've gotten confirmation that Golyat has indeed arrived in Sastak. Also, some of the forces that were to the southeast of here have withdrawn to Sastak. The fast frigate that arrived in the harbor early this morning carried a dispatch from Commander Shuchyl. Elmari is back under Imperial control. Even though he had Fourth Regiment as well as the Fifth, there wasn't much resistance, and the locals had actually captured some of Golyat's lackeys before the commander reached the city….”

Something about that bothered Rahl, but a lot of things seemed somehow wrong to him, and he couldn't say why.

“…the Fourth Regiment has been embarked on two cruisers and will be here tomorrow, and we will be setting out for Sastak on fiveday. Rather, you and Third Company will be, with the bulk of First and Second Army to follow on sixday.” Taryl walked to the table desk, where he picked up a short sheaf of dispatches, which he then handed to Rahl. “I'd like you to go over these and sort through them. Set aside any that you think reveal a problem. I'd like your thoughts and recommendations on those.” Taryl paused. “Those are the only copies, and I'll need them. Just use the table in the adjoining chamber. That was Golyat's aide's study. Leave both doors ajar, the one to the corridor and the one to this study.”

“Ser?”

“I'm certain you've already noted that few indeed are to be trusted. While you're going through those, you're to keep full shields—the kind that only suggest you're a minor mage-guard at best.” Taryl offered an ironic smile. “Try not to be more than that while you're looking them over.”

Rahl barely concealed the wince he felt.

“Sometimes, Rahl, it's better to conceal power than reveal it unnecessarily. That way you don't warn your enemies.” After a pause, Taryl added, “At the same time, I'd like you to observe anyone who comes to see me, but in a way that they don't notice.”

“Yes, ser.” Rahl didn't like the assignment, but he smiled pleasantly, keeping his feelings behind shields.

“Good.” Taryl stood.

Rahl walked toward the aide's study, and Taryl followed, closing the door after Rahl until it was ajar barely a crack. Then Rahl settled into the wooden chair at the table to read the dispatches.

The first was one Taryl had mentioned before—Shuchyl's report on the taking of Elmari. The events suggested that the port town had never been that strongly supportive of Golyat, nor had it been that heavily garrisoned, even with the reinforcements of the harbor fortifications. Hadn't Taryl known that? Rahl frowned. Why hadn't Taryl just attacked Elmari in the beginning? Then he smiled wryly because he was thinking that Taryl had been in charge of the campaign at the time. But Taryl had not been and had not had that choice.

He set aside the first dispatch and began to read the second, a short report from Commander Muyr relaying a longer request from an engineer about the need for oils and wax for fire-bladders to replace those expended in taking the barricades.

Rahl read through five dispatches and picked up the sixth, his eyes widening and his patience further evaporating as he read the long and pedantic harangue by a Commander Duchym, whom Rahl did not know, about the lack of adequate quarters for senior officers in Nubyat, followed by a recommendation that “appropriate” local dwellings be requisitioned for said officers. Rahl set that aside and was about to pick up the next when he sensed the approach of powerful chaos-forces—the two Triads.

Rahl immediately allowed his surface feelings and thoughts to dwell on the pettiness and the stupidity of Commander Duchym, while still receiving what order-chaos thoughts and impressions that he could. He also used his own order-senses to boost his hearing, a use of order within himself that should not be detectable, although in his experience even the strongest of chaos-mages were not so perceptive as order-mages in sensing order-usage.

“Triad Fieryn…Triad Dhoryk, please go in.” Falyka's voice was coolly pleasant. “The Regional Administrator is expecting you.”

“Most kind of him,” murmured Dhoryk.

“Greetings, honored Triads,” Taryl's voice was warm and welcoming.

Rahl could detect nothing beyond that, and he had to admire the fashion in which Taryl not only hid what he thought and felt but covered it with feelings to match his words and inflections.

“Greetings, most effective Acting Regional Administrator,” returned Dhoryk.

From that point on, Rahl concentrated on trying to pick up information he did not know or words or phrases that did not quite ring true.

“You asked to be briefed on the schedule…will be heading out on sixday…Third Company leading with reconnaissance in force…anticipate two eightdays to reach the outskirts of Sastak…barring changes in the weather…”

“…rather optimistic…I would say…”

“Taryl has been known for making his optimism work out, Dhoryk…”

“Most fortunately…”

“Would you prefer to join the advance, honored Triads, or to arrive by ship once we control the port there?”

“…proceed with First and Second Army…would seem most efficacious in the case of unexpected magely opposition…”

“…especially given the loss of mage-guards on both sides…”

“…we have most of those with whom we set out…”

“Arms-mages of order, such as the fellow who met us on the piers, may well be overmatched in Sastak.”

“That is always possible, and your presence will certainly strengthen our forces….”

“What do you recommend for dealing with Prince Golyat?”

“That is a matter for you as Triads to determine, assuming that he is not killed in the attack or that he does not flee as he did from Nubyat….”

“…you plan to remain as Regional Mage-Guard Overcommander after this is resolved?”

“…my future lies in the hands of the Triad and of the Emperor, as it always has…”

“Oh, you might be interested to know that Thasylt died rather unexpectedly several eightdays ago…just received word…might you have a recommendation for a successor?”

“You are doubtless more aware of those regional commanders who would work best with the current Triad, but I will most certainly give that some thought.”

“Is there anything to which you do not give thought?”

“Very little…it's a bad habit of mine…”

Before all that long, the two Triads departed with more meaningless pleasantries.

Although Rahl gathered a vague impression of chaos-tinged dissatisfaction toward the end of the conversation from one of the Triads, he could not tell which one it had been. Even with his order-boosted hearing, Rahl had not been able to catch all that passed between the three in the Regional Administrator's study, ranging as the conversation had from mere routine civility to Taryl's brief outline of the planned advance on Sastak.

Rahl couldn't help but be pleased that neither Triad had even so much as directed a probe in his direction, and that they didn't seem to recall him, but it also suggested that they either didn't need to because they could sense who he was without trying—or that they were so arrogant that they felt everyone except Taryl was unworthy of notice. Neither possibility was particularly attractive.

As Taryl did not summon him, and since he had not finished with the dispatches, he went back to reading those remaining in the sheaf. In the end, he had five dispatches that he thought revealed matters requiring action beyond what he would have called routine.

He stood and walked to the door, still barely ajar, and knocked. “Ser?”

“Come on in, Rahl.”

When Rahl stepped into the capacious study, he found Taryl leaning back slightly in the chair behind the table desk, but the older mage-guard immediately straightened. “You heard the conversation. What do you think? Honestly, and without either excessive caution or unnecessary vituperation.”

“They both strike me as arrogant, particularly Triad Dhoryk. They talk as if the only force that matters is magery.”

“Chaos-magery—or your kind of order-magery—can be rather effective.”

“As I discovered at Thalye and Selyma, it is far less effective in many situations than large numbers of troops with sharp weapons, ser. It's most effective in limited areas.”

“That is so. What do you suggest I do?”

“What you can, ser, without ever exposing yourself to what they might do.”

“You do not trust our honored Triads, Senior Mage-Guard?”

“No, ser, but you know I am skeptical of those who hold power as an absolute right.”

“You have mentioned that, if not exactly in those words. Now, what are you recommending on the dispatches I gave you?”

Rahl picked up Commander Duchym's dispatch. “Commander Duchym seems even more arrogant than the Triads. I would not wish his regiment to be the one left here to hold Nubyat. You might have to retake the city on your return.”

“What else would you do?”

Rahl frowned. “Stipend him off, if possible. He doesn't sound like the kind who would listen to an explanation of how one doesn't sack one's own cities, even after a revolt, if one wants prosperity and the tariffs that come from it.”

“He's Dhoryk's cousin.”

“Have him lead the first charge in Sastak,” Rahl said dryly. “Otherwise, keep him from any position where he has to exercise initiative or control.”

“What else?”

“The fire-bladders. I suppose they should be replaced, but there will be more chaos-bolts in Sastak, I would judge, and I wouldn't recommend having them anywhere close to you or to large numbers of troopers.”

“I would agree with that. What else?”

When Rahl had finished noting his observations and concerns and returned the sheaf of dispatches to Taryl, the older mage-guard set them on the table desk, and said, “Triad Fieryn wanted me to know that the Mage-Guard Overcommander for Matlana died unexpectedly. He asked if I had any recommendations for a successor. I told him that he was doubtless more aware of those regional commanders who would work best with the current Triad, but that I would give it some thought.”

Matlana—that was the eastern region administered from Atla. “I heard him mention the death of someone called Thasylt, but I didn't know who that was. Was the overcommander that old?”

“He didn't die of flux or old age, I'd wager,” replied Taryl.

Nor would Rahl.

“You need to spend the rest of today and tomorrow finishing up with all your duties around the city, and letting Chewyrt and the others know that they'll be acting on their own until you return. Don't forget to let them know that you will expect an accounting when you return.”

“I won't, ser.”

“You're having dinner in the private dining room, with your healer. The Triads and I will eat in the formal salon.”

“Thank you.”

Taryl smiled for a moment. “You'd better get on with winding matters up.”

Rahl nodded, then turned and departed. Outside the study, he glanced down the long corridor but did not see Deybri. So he headed down the steps.

Dinner with Deybri on threeday evening was the most enjoyable Rahl could remember since he had eaten with Deybri seasons before, not so much because of the perfectly seasoned lamb burhka or the cream sylazas that constituted dessert, but because the question that lay between them was no longer one of consorting but of when that would happen. Rahl just enjoyed looking at Deybri and listening to her. Although he would have preferred more than that, he had those pleasures to look forward to, and he could still recall when even seeing Deybri's gold-flecked eyes and the warmth and intelligence behind them would have seemed the most impossible of dreams. Unfortunately, the dinner was too short, and fourday arrived too soon and was far too long, because Rahl had far too many loose ends to tie up—before getting ready to ride out with Third Company on fiveday.

He was up early on fiveday, early enough to catch Deybri in the staff dining room, he thought, but she had already left to make a last round of the wounded she would be leaving behind in Nubyat. So he ate quickly and headed to the stable to ready the gelding.

Even so, the stable was empty except for the gelding, and he had to hurry to saddle his mount and load his gear.

After he mounted outside the small stable, he sat in the saddle for a moment without urging the gelding toward the road to the east of the overcommander's villa, where Third Company was forming up. For several moments, he studied the overcast sky, both with eyes and order-senses. From what he could tell, the clouds were moving northeast, but there wasn't much water in them, and the breeze that caressed him was warm, but dry.

Then he urged the gelding forward, riding slowly to the front of the column and reining up beside Drakeyt.

Shortly, Quelsyn, the senior squad leader, rode up and reported, “All squads, all troopers, present or accounted for.”

“Very well. Prepare to ride out.”

“Third Company, ready to ride, ser.”

“Third Company, forward!”

As the company rode past the Regional Administrator's Residence, Rahl glanced to the left to see if Deybri might be watching from somewhere. He neither saw her nor sensed her presence, and his eyes went back to the stone pavement before him. After riding past the Residence and the northern end of the parklike grounds that surrounded it, Rahl neared the wide turn in the road before it turned almost a full half circle and descended. From there, he could see Nubyat spread out below the promontory, a city of gray and green, although the light gray of the paved streets was almost white.

In the early morning, the loudest sound was the echo of hoofs off the stone and the sheer cliff face to the right of the road.

“Word is that you're going to consort the healer, Majer,” Drakeyt said, as he and Rahl followed the outriders and scouts down toward the southern part of Nubyat.

Did the walls have ears? Probably eyes as well, Rahl reflected. “That depends on what happens in Sastak.”

“If you return?” Drakeyt laughed. “If anyone is likely to return, I'd wager on you.”

“She's with the overcommander's headquarters company as a healer,” Rahl said. “Healing in and after battles isn't risk-free.”

Drakeyt nodded. “And there may be attacks on the overcommander's position in Sastak. Is it true she came from Recluce?”

“Yes. Some of us have, over the years.” Rahl wasn't about to explain how Deybri had come—or why.

“I can't say it makes sense to me,” Drakeyt mused. “What you've done here is worth a couple of companies, if not more, and they just threw you out?”

“Not exactly.” Even as he began to explain, Rahl had to wonder why he was defending anything about Recluce. “They felt that they couldn't train me without too much risk to Nylan, and Nylan has a few less people than Nubyat, although the harbor and port facilities are larger.”

“Did they have to train you in Nylan?”

Rahl checked the paving stones as they rode past where the barricades had been, but the prisoner crews had finally removed all traces of the blackened residues. “I was already banned from the rest of Recluce because magisters in Land's End didn't like the way I'd used order, and Nylan is actually not much larger than Nubyat in size.”

“They knew you had that kind of ability and tossed you out?”

“They thought I did, and they didn't want to find out.” Rahl glanced ahead as they neared the southern square, his eyes searching for any patrollers who might be around. At least one should be. He saw several people on the covered porch of the larger inn, and he was pleased to see that none of the shops were shuttered.

Then he nodded, as he caught sight of the familiar mage-guard uniform.

From across the square, Saol raised his falchiona in a salute.

Rahl returned the gesture by lifting the battle truncheon, if briefly.

“Word was that you were the one really running the city.” Drakeyt's voice was casual, but the curiosity behind the words was not.

“I just did what the overcommander wanted.” Rahl offered a laugh. “And he wanted a lot done. He always has.”

“They say—you told me—that he doesn't do anything without a reason.”

Taryl never had. That was true, but…“He has more to worry about than Nubyat right now. I really didn't have much else to do except the duties he delegated to me.”

“That's probably true.”

Drakeyt wasn't convinced, but neither was Rahl, but he was afraid to hope that Taryl's assignments were to familiarize him with the city and might lead to his promotion to undercaptain or captain—perhaps in Nubyat. Still…it was possible.

“We'll just have to see.” That was all Rahl dared to say, especially with the battles that still lay ahead determining the fate of the revolt—and his own destiny.