Mage-Guard of Hamor (66 page)

The next five days varied little. Third Company scouted, and First and Second Army followed after the scouting. There were no signs of rebels or mages or mage-guards, but there were fewer and fewer foodstuffs available from the local steads and growers. Because he was assigned to Third Company, Rahl was nowhere close to Deybri—or Fieryn and Dhoryk—during the course of the day. He usually managed a few words with Deybri in the morning, but only once in the early evening. As she had predicted, because there were too few healers for First and Second Army, she seldom returned to wherever Taryl had set up his headquarters for the night before Rahl had already reported and departed. Rahl had tried twice to wait for her, both times unsuccessfully, and resigned himself to their brief morning meetings.

Eightday morning, Rahl entered the less-than-impressive Growers' Inn on the main square in Gherama—a town known for onions so powerful that there was a regional description about them: “so hard-hearted a Gherama onion wouldn't bring tears to his eyes.” While the inn seemed clean enough, the oak of the plank floors had been scrubbed and cleaned and washed—and then oiled—so much that the golden grain was lost behind years of labor and oil that left the floor a nondescript and shimmering brown. The glass of the windows was so old that looking through the panes, clean as they were, left Rahl with the impression of seeing the stable yard as through a fog—despite the fact that the morning sun was pouring light down through a clean blue-green sky.

Taryl had commandeered a corner of the public room and was talking to Commander Muyr. He looked up as Rahl entered. “Rahl…if you'd wait outside, the commander will let you know when we're done.”

“Yes, ser.” Rahl stepped back and glanced around the foyer outside the public room. There was not even a bench to sit upon, and the space felt uncomfortably warm, perhaps because he was wearing his riding jacket. Besides, waiting there might give the impression he was eavesdropping.

After a moment, he crossed the foyer and pushed open the door to the side porch. Once outside, he took the bench on the right end, the one farthest from the street and closest to the spice garden—as well as across the yard from the inn stable. As he sat there, letting his order-senses gather in impressions, he gained an increasing sense of the two Triads approaching. Could he observe them without being seen or detected…or at least without their realizing what he was attempting?

He tightened his shields and let a certain concern about scouting and what might lie ahead in Sastak swirl about above them. He added a worry about having to wait to meet with Taryl. Before long, Dhoryk and Fieryn strolled beyond the board fence on the back side of the spice garden, heading toward the stable.

Both held firm shields, but Rahl gained impressions of amusement, supreme self-confidence, and concern. He felt that the concern was focused on Taryl, but he had no way of actually determining that, and that feeling might well have been what he thought the concern might be, rather than what it was.

As the two reached the end of the board fence and began to cross the stable yard, Dhoryk's eyes flicked back to Rahl and the porch, but Rahl ignored the glance, as if his thoughts were elsewhere. Then the faintest of order-chaos probes touched him, and he ignored it, letting Dhoryk take in his worries about scouting and about why Taryl was making him wait. After several moments, the probe vanished.

Rahl let his order-abilities extend the sharpness of his hearing.

“He's more worried about Taryl than anything. Not all that many other thoughts in that head…”

“More than you might think, Dhoryk. Taryl has little patience for ignorance or incompetence.”

“He's a more-than-competent scout and city mage-guard, and that makes him better than most mage-guards in this force—except for our assistants, of course.”

“How could it be otherwise?”

“It could have been,” Dhoryk replied, “if Taryl had cared more about himself.”

“We're fortunate he didn't, but there's little point in speculating on what might have been….”

At that point, the two Triads had walked beyond Rahl's order-ability to catch their words.

If Taryl had cared more about himself? More about himself than what? The Emperor? The Empress? Hamor?

Behind and to Rahl's left, the door to the inn opened, and Commander Muyr leaned out. “The overcommander is ready to see you, Majer.”

“Thank you, Commander.” Rahl stood and headed for the inn doorway and the day's scouting assignment, not that it would vary much until they were closer to Sastak—and that was still at least three days away, according to his calculations.

Scouts! Halt!” Just before midmorning on twoday, Rahl's order boomed out from the low crest of the main road that led to the port city of Sastak. He had just reined up, taking in the long ridge ahead and to the left of the road.

He and Third Company had left the marshy lands surrounding the town of Taskyl immediately after morning muster, heading south. They didn't have that far to go, given that Taskyl lay less than ten kays due north of the outskirts of Sastak, and that he'd just passed the kaystone that indicated the edge of the city was but five kays farther to the south. Until just a few moments before, Rahl had not seen or sensed any rebels, although he and the scouts had discovered that, until two days before, the rebels had been commandeering rice from the warehouses in Taskyl as well as other provisions from the holders within fifteen kays of Sastak.

A kay or so to the south, the long ridge ran from the northeast to the southwest, its flattened top a good sixty cubits above the drained rice paddies that stretched along the eastern side of the road for almost two kays and ended directly below the ridge. A grassy slope less than two hundred cubits wide ran from the far side of the drainage ditch bordering the road up to the top of the ridge, a distance of perhaps four hundred cubits. Rahl estimated that the ridge extended a good kay from the top of the grassy approach to a similar slope on the southeastern end. A third of a kay to the southeast, Rahl could make out what clearly had been a narrow watercourse, where some of the exposed stone was damp.

He shook his head. Of course, the rebels had dammed the stream, doubtless from a spring. That might have been another reason for choosing that ridge.

What was of greater concern to him was the sense of hundreds, if not thousands, of rebels located on the ridgetop—that and the three-cubit-high stone-and-earth wall across the top of the grassy slope. He could also sense at least two chaos-mages near the earthworks. Yet the road below and northwest of the earthworks was not barricaded or blocked in any way, although a strong chaos-mage could certainly have splashed a firebolt on anyone using the road.

As he waited for Drakeyt to join him, Rahl surveyed the area to the west of the road, but so far as he could tell, it consisted mainly of scores of rice paddies, many of which had been planted and refilled, and all of which were separated by dikes anchored by trees of a kind whose leaves never shriveled into silver-gray for the winter. He thought he could see the glint of sunlight off the ocean ahead and to his right, but it might have been the sun reflecting off more rice paddies.

Before long, Drakeyt reined up beside Rahl. “I see that they're dug in up there, some of them anyway.”

“Close to a thousand, but it could be more.” Rahl pointed. “I'd guess that they can reinforce the position from the far end there. I'll have to ride along one of those paddy dikes to get close enough to see about that.”

“You'll take a squad with you?”

“It might not be a bad idea. Could you send Quelsyn or a squad leader to look over the paddies to the west? We don't need to find that there's a hidden road there.”

“Like Thalye?”

Rahl nodded.

“Lyrn's pretty solid, and he's familiar with wetland growing. I'll send out fifth squad.” Drakeyt glanced back at the ridge. “What do you think about the earthworks, Majer?”

“They've fortified the approach, and probably the one at the other end, but it's not as strong as the barricades at Nubyat. Stronger than what they had at Selyma. The north side above the paddies is too steep for a horse and too exposed for troopers on foot—unless we could attack along the entire perimeter, and I don't think we have enough troopers for that, especially if they have more than a few chaos-mages.”

“I don't like this,” murmured the captain.

Rahl didn't either. They'd seen no opposition for nearly two eightdays, and now they faced a fortified position that didn't even block the main road into Sastak. To Rahl, that suggested great confidence by the rebels. Had the whole campaign just been designed to lure the Imperial forces to this particular battle, well out of the way? Was something else going on in another part of Hamor?

“After I look over the southeastern end of the ridge, I'll see what else is down there. I'd appreciate it if you'd find out what you can from any of the growers around—if you can find any.”

“We'll see what we can do.” Drakeyt paused. “I trust you'll be careful, Majer?”

“As I can,” Rahl replied.

Rahl didn't have to wait long after Drakeyt rode back to the main body of Third Company before Dhosyn and first squad rode forward to join Rahl.

“Ser.”

“I'll be leading the squad on one of those paths on top of the paddy dikes. We need to get far enough east to find out what the rebels have at the other end of that ridge.”

“Yes, ser,” replied the squad leader.

Rahl turned the gelding toward the dike that looked the widest and most solid, and that took him another two hundred cubits closer to the ridge before he could start eastward. He wasn't exactly comfortable leading Dhosyn and first squad in a single file along the top of the dike that paralleled the ridge. While the paddies held no obvious water, the exposed soil was clearly wet and muddy enough that a mount might well sink half a cubit into the mud—if not more.

As he rode, Rahl concentrated on picking up any signs of possible attackers or traps. While he kept checking, he neither sensed nor saw either. Nor were there any boot prints or hoof prints on the narrow pathway he followed. What he did pick up was the unmistakable fetid odor of waste or sewage, and he had the definite feeling that more than one kind of manure had been used over the years to fertilize the paddies.

The sun was warm, almost hot, and the combination of the stench and the heat left him sweating heavily and more than ready to leave the paddies behind when he suddenly experienced a chill—not a physical chill, but an order-chaos chill, the kind that came from the use of a screeing glass. After several moments, the chill passed over Rahl and the squad, suggesting that whoever was using the glass had not been looking for Rahl specifically, but for Imperial forces. Still…

Rahl kept riding and finally reached a wider area of ground where the dikes of four paddies intersected far enough eastward that he could see and sense the earthworks on the southeastern end of the ridge.

“Looks just the same, ser, doesn't it?” asked Dhosyn, who had moved his mount up beside Rahl's.

“They're almost identical in length, height, and construction.” Rahl continued to study the approach. “There's a road to the base of the slope, and it looks to run straight south to the city and up to a flat space a half kay or so south of us.” He wanted to take a deep breath, but decided against that as he eased the gelding onto another dike pathway, heading south. He didn't sense any rebels, and he needed to get closer.

He just hoped Lyrn hadn't run into any trouble in the paddies west of the main road.

Late on twoday afternoon, Rahl dismounted outside a white-stone villa on a hilltop just to the southwest of Taskyl. Two headquarters troopers stood outside the small entry portico of the country estate. It had belonged to one of Golyat's local supporters who had fled, presumably to Sastak. Both the portico and the villa itself were roofed in a tile so light a gray that it was almost white. The outer walls were of a white stucco over stone, and the window shutters, though open, were of the same light gray shade as the roof tiles.

“Afternoon, Majer.”

“Good afternoon. I assume the overcommander is here.”

“Yes, ser.”

Rahl stepped into the welcome shade offered by the portico roof, then through the doorway into the villa. Another undercaptain Rahl did not recognize sat behind a small table inside the foyer. He took one quick glance at Rahl and jumped to his feet. “Majer, ser!”

“Is the overcommander free for my report?”

“Yes, ser. He said to send you in whenever you arrived.” The undercaptain pointed down a white-walled corridor.

“Thank you.” Rahl smiled and turned down the corridor, wondering why an undercaptain he'd never seen was nervous and even frightened by his presence.

The study door was ajar, and Rahl called out, “Ser?”

“Come in, Rahl, and close the door.”

Rahl did so, stepping into a small chamber no more than ten cubits by twelve. The white walls were bare, but the lighter patches of white suggested that paintings or hangings had been recently removed. The wide windows overlooked a walled garden. Beyond and below the lower wall was an expanse of rice paddies that had been drained for planting.

Taryl looked up from the map spread on the table desk before him, leaning back slightly in the wooden armchair. “You're back earlier than I expected. What did you discover?”

“We could take Sastak with minimal casualties and without confronting the rebels.”

Taryl said nothing.

“There's a long ridge about six kays south of Taskyl and four north of Sastak…” Rahl went on to explain what he and Third Company had observed, using Taryl's map to point out the disposition of the enemy forces. He finished up with, “They've fortified the southwest end of the ridge at the top of the gentle slope that leads down to the main road, and there are embankments on the north side above the gentler slopes. But they haven't blocked the road to Sastak. We could ride past them and into the city. We might take a few losses, but not many. I worry about attacking their position on that ridge. We'll lose hundreds, if not thousands, if they fight as well as they have before.”

“Unfortunately,” Taryl replied, “you're probably right.”

“We could just take the city,” Rahl suggested again.

“I'm certain we could,” replied Taryl. “And then what?”

“They'd hold the high ground behind us,” replied Rahl, “but we'd still control the roads and the supplies.”

“Rahl…how long has this revolt been going on?”

“Since last summer.”

“We're now into spring. That's more than half a year. What would happen if we followed your suggestion and avoided fighting them in a pitched battle?”

“They couldn't stay on the ridge. They'd have to retreat in-country.”

“Exactly. Through all those rice paddies, and those near-tropical swamplands farther to the southeast. How long would it take to chase them down? How many troopers would be tied up watching them? How many would sicken and die of swamp fever? How much in the way of supplies would we have to ship here to support the armies? Would we lose any fewer men that way?”

Rahl didn't have an answer to those questions.

“The Emperor can lose two ways,” Taryl went on. “He can lose if we fight the rebels here and lose. He can also lose if we choose not to fight the rebels here, and the revolt drags on for another half year…or longer.”

“But why doesn't Golyat retreat into the lands to the east, then, and drag matters out?”

“Because he loses as well, then. He won't be able to claim the support of the people and the merchants and factors. Both he and the Emperor lose that way, and that means that Hamor as a land loses even more.”

“So Golyat's wagering that we have to fight and that he can win?”

“Exactly. If Golyat wins tomorrow, the Emperor's support will crumble. It's never been that strong—”

“Ser…he's the Emperor, isn't he?”

“Rahl. I think I pointed out before that no one rules except through others who carry out their will. The Emperor's present problem is that he needs the support of two of the three Triads. While Jubyl will support him, if we do not crush this revolt quickly, Dhoryk will turn from the Emperor because he believes that the High Command has not been given the coins and the resources to protect Hamor effectively, and many of the senior officers in the High Command have already expressed those very concerns. Likewise, Fieryn has expressed concerns that there are more offenders against the Codex than previously because there are fewer mage-guards for the number of people, and without either a greater use of non-mage patrollers or a greater use of magely powers, order cannot be maintained. Either alternative is costly, one way or the other.”

“Those sound like excuses to turn from the Emperor,” Rahl suggested. “We've been using patrollers in Nubyat.”

“Only as an emergency measure. Institutionalizing that across all of Hamor would create great unrest among many of the mage-guards, and it would upset the people as well. They know that a mage-guard can tell what is true and what is not, and they would fear patrollers who could not and who might be bribed. Fieryn's and Dhoryk's reasons may sound like excuses,” Taryl continued, “but many with power and coins would support such excuses if the Emperor does not show himself as strong and effective. Letting a revolt continue when one has a chance to end it decisively would reinforce the concerns of both Triads. While neither has spoken to me of this, I believe that they are here to see if I will, as the representative of the Emperor, act decisively.” Taryl offered a wry smile. “There's also the practical consideration. If we let Golyat escape and refuse a decisive battle, we'd have to ship in rations on a massive scale, and that would please no one, or we'd have to seize grain, livestock, rice, and tubers from the local growers over an area of close to a hundred kays by a hundred kays.”

“Seize? We've offered script before…”

“After a few eightdays, the food becomes more valuable than the script, and if we paid what it would be worth, the cost would be as much as shipping rations, if not more.”

Was war always a matter of coins? Or did the coins just provide the measure of what was lost in war? Rahl leaned toward the second, but he wasn't so certain that some favored the first.

“Now…how many men are on this ridge?”

“Earlier today, there were no more than two thousand, if that, but there are two roads from the south—the main road from Sastak and a farm road. They both can be used to reinforce the ridge, and while we were scouting I could see another battalion moving into position. They have one mage using a screeing glass as well, and his detection of Third Company—”

“You didn't try to find out anything, did you?”

“No. I just kept my shields tight and took in what I could. He kept coming back to us when we got close to the southeastern earthworks, then seemed to lose interest once we headed back north.”

“Was he focused on you?”

“No, ser. It seemed to be on the entire squad, at least from what I could tell.”

“Let us hope so. What else?”

“The rice paddies to the west of the road are flooded, but we could see no trace of rebels or encampments there….” Rahl described the total lack of rebel presence north of the ridge, giving as many details as he could. “That's what makes this all so strange. They've collected food and supplies, but there are no outlying posts or forts and no sign of scouts.”

“Given Golyat and Ulmaryt, that's less than surprising. He's rather good with the screeing glass. Besides, what's really the point of scouting when we have to attack them?”

“To see how many troopers we have,” suggested Rahl.

“They either destroy us, or they don't. Our force is more than a third smaller than when we set out, and that must give them confidence.”

“Why hasn't Dhoryk sent reinforcements?”

“Because there aren't that many to send, and those that there are wouldn't add a great deal.”

No more to send? Rahl found that hard to believe.

“Hamor can support a mighty fleet or a mighty army, but not both,” Taryl said. “The fleet keeps us prosperous because it protects our trade. The army regiments, while necessary, are a drain on the land, because the mage-guards keep order with fewer coins.” He paused. “Is Recluce any different?”

Rahl knew Recluce followed that philosophy, but he hadn't considered that Hamor did as well.

“I can tell that I've made you think,” Taryl said dryly. “Go and do so elsewhere for a time. But stay around the villa, because I've arranged for you and Deybri to join me for a short evening meal before the commanders' briefing, and it won't be that long before we eat. You will be the one to brief them on the disposition of the rebel forces. Do not voice any conclusions whatsoever. Just point out what is where and what is not, and only answer any questions from the Triads by repeating the facts, and saying that those are the facts, and that decisions about how and why are to be made by those in higher authority.”

“Yes, ser.”

Taryl gestured toward the study door, and Rahl inclined his head, then slipped out.

Once in the corridor, he debated what he should do until they ate. He wouldn't have had enough time to ride back to the stead housing Third Company, and yet, just standing around seemed…wasteful. At the same time, he had the feeling that the dinner with Deybri was more than a gesture by Taryl, but even if it were not, he appreciated the invitation.

He surveyed several rooms, all of which retained the majority of furnishings, but none of the artwork or hangings, and finally settled himself in a comfortable chair in the front parlor to try to puzzle out what lay behind Taryl's words, because something always lay behind the overcommander's words.

Golyat—or his advisors—had obviously known that the High Command was well provided with warships and less well provided with troopers, but the troopers Rahl had encountered were all well trained and able—far more so than the rebels they had fought, even given that at least some of the rebel forces had to have been former High Command troopers. Under those circumstances, several things made more sense. Sending Rahl out with Third Company had been designed to reduce unnecessary casualties. By the same token, the traps set by the rebels had been planned with the idea of reducing the number of troopers while not reducing the rebel forces. Fieryn and Dhoryk were present, not because they cared for Taryl or even for the Emperor, but presumably because, if Taryl failed, they also risked losing power and position, either because they would be linked to the inability to subdue the rebels or, in the worst case, because Golyat would not retain Triads ostensibly loyal to the Emperor. That also suggested that the two Triads and Taryl were aware of far more mages in the rebel forces than had appeared heretofore, and that meant the result of the coming battle would be anything but as certain as those that had preceded it.

Rahl was trying to consider what he had not seen, his eyes directed out the windows into a small walled garden, but not really seeing the early spring flowers, thinking over what Taryl had not said when he heard steps and sensed Deybri. She'd barely crossed the foyer when Rahl met her.

A warm smile appeared. “Taryl said you'd be here.”

Rahl embraced her, and for a time they were lost in each other.

Deybri was the one to slip back. “I'm a mess.”

“I didn't notice.” Rahl heard a set of chimes in the background, but he concentrated on what Deybri was saying and feeling.

“I'm grateful for that.”

“It is time for dinner.” Taryl stood behind them, beside the parlor door.

“Oh…” The most fleeting feeling of embarrassment and confusion accompanied Deybri's inadvertent syllable. “I didn't know…”

“I can understand why.” Taryl gestured. “We are limited to the main dining chamber.” He turned.

Rahl and Deybri followed, holding hands.

The dining chamber was modest—for a villa—with the same white walls and a green-tile floor that had once been covered by some form of carpet—and a table that had six chairs on a side and two chairs with arms at each end. The end farthest from the archway off the main hall was set for three. All three settings had pale cream porcelain platters, rimmed in green, with a crystal wine goblet for each as well.

Taryl took the seat at the end of the table but waited for Deybri to seat herself. “It's very much a treat to have a beautiful woman at dinner.”

Deybri inclined her head slightly. “You say that with such gallantry.”

“That does not mean it is not sincere, although I need gallantry because I cannot express my pleasure merely by looking in the way that your intended does. I can tell you,” Taryl finished as he seated himself, “that I have never seen him look at any other woman that way, even the Empress, and she is most beautiful.”

While there was nothing in the tone of Taryl's voice nor any indication of feeling other than pleasantry, Rahl wondered just what emotion lay beneath the overcommander's shields.

“You are kind to include me with the Empress, but I doubt I merit such comparison.”

“You do,” Rahl said quietly. “Although she is most beautiful, so are you.”

“That is something I would not argue with Rahl about,” added Taryl with a laugh. He lifted the crystal pitcher and poured the amber wine into Deybri's goblet, then Rahl's, and finally his own. “I'm told that this is a fair wine. The best of the cellar departed with the previous owner.”