Mage-Guard of Hamor (42 page)

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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

BOOK: Mage-Guard of Hamor
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He did not return to the square to meet Drakeyt until close to sunset. Along the way he did discover just how highly the distiller—or the distillery—was regarded. A paved lane ran from the distillery building on the south side of Lahenta to the highway leading to Nubyat, and it appeared to Rahl that from that point on, the road was stone-paved.

“What did you find out?” asked the captain.

“The town clerk handed all the tariffs for the past two seasons over to Golyat's tariff administrator. He was active in supporting the revolt and knew full well that the tariffs went to support the rebellion, but none of Lahenta's wealthiest did anything but pay their tariffs, and none of them did anything to support Golyat or the rebellion.”

“They
had
to know.”

“I'm sure that they did, but you can't administer justice against someone because he didn't stop a minor functionary from abusing an official position.”

“What about the clerk?”

“He rode off with the rebels. He left enough records that he can be charged with treason. That's if he survives and we ever find him.”

Drakeyt snorted. “The wealthy snots knew, and they'll get away with it.”

Rahl nodded. “I can't administer justice against someone who only suspected a crime and didn't look further.”

“I can see that…but it's still wrong.”

“It is, but it would be more wrong to punish them. That way, we'd have to punish all of Nubyat and Sastak, and a good third to half of all the people in Merowey near the coast around those cities.”

“So they set themselves up to profit no matter who won?”

Rahl smiled sadly.

“We'll see more of that, won't we?”

Rahl didn't have to reply to the question. Drakeyt already knew the answer.

LVII

Twoday morning Rahl was up early. He hadn't slept well, even though he'd been able to lay his bedroll on some comparatively soft hay in the corner of one of the barns Third Company had taken over temporarily. He'd had nightmares about drowning in ooze while Deybri had looked on. He couldn't recall what her nightmare image had said, but he felt that she had judged him for creating so much death. Yet what else could he have done? The rebels had left him nowhere to go, and he couldn't throw order-bolts the way the chaos-mages could throw chaos-bolts. One such effort had left him so helpless that his own troopers had had to cart him back.

After he struggled out of the nightmare and into wakefulness, Rahl washed up as well as he could and ate stale field rations. He was saddling the gelding when he heard a trooper riding into the courtyard.

“Majer! Captain!”

Rahl turned, then waited as Drakeyt appeared. The two walked over to the trooper.

“Sers…there's a full squad coming in. They're ours.”

“Thank you, Shundyr,” Drakeyt said.

“My pleasure, ser. Wouldn't want it said your scouts didn't keep you posted.”

Both officers had their mounts saddled and ready in the light before dawn when Rahl could sense the oncoming riders, moving at quick trot. He turned to Drakeyt. “They'll be here in a moment.”

Shortly, the squad rode into the open space west of the barn and reined up. A squad leader rode forward and halted. “Squad leader Lyrn reporting, ser, one full squad for duty. We have dispatches for Majer Rahl and Captain Drakeyt.”

“Welcome, squad leader,” offered Drakeyt.

“Welcome,” added Rahl.

Lyrn handed an envelope to Rahl, then one to Drakeyt.

“Have your men stand down and rest…water your mounts,” Drakeyt said. “You must have left early.”

“Yes, ser. We covered about six kays since we broke bivouac.”

Drakeyt opened the envelope and began to read, then looked over at Rahl. “We're ordered to scout the approaches to Thalye—that's the next town—with particular concern for possible opposition from the old back road. Squad leader Lyrn and his men are to replace fifth squad, and the previous fourth and fifth squad are to be consolidated under Fedeor as fourth squad, and squad leader Fysett is to be one of the messengers returning to Second Army. He'll be reassigned as a squad leader there.”

Rahl nodded. The reassignment made sense. So did the suggestion of even more intensive scouting of the route to Thalye, particularly since the rebel attack on eightday and the beginning of the metaled highway to the coast signaled the edge of territory more likely to be defended more vigorously. According to the maps, Thalye was less than ten kays from Lahenta.

As Drakeyt watched, Rahl broke the seal on his dispatch and extracted the single sheet from the envelope, immediately reading the brief message.

Senior Mage-Guard Rahl—

Second Army will be joining you tomorrow. From that point onward, you will be working more closely with the main forces, and you may well be required upon occasion to brief senior officers on both the terrain and its peculiarities and on the probable disposition of rebel forces, as well as the level of civilian support for either the Emperor or the rebel forces.

In the interim, I would appreciate a short report on the situation in the vicinity of Lahenta, to be dispatched with squad leader Fysett, before you commence the day's scouting on the approaches to Thalye.

The seal was that of the submarshal, and the single letter above it was a “T.”

“You don't look exactly pleased,” observed Drakeyt.

“I've been requested to write a short report. Immediately, and to send it with Fysett before I do anything else at all.”

Drakeyt raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

“In effect, he wants to know most of what I already wrote up last night, but there are one or two things I'll need to add. I'm going over to the chandlery. It'll take less time there.”

“Better surroundings, too.” Drakeyt grinned.

“Not my type,” Rahl replied. “Besides, the one I like wouldn't be too pleased.”

“How would she…” Drakeyt broke off his words, then asked, “Don't tell me she's a mage, too?”

“A healer, but…she'd know.” Rahl wondered why he kept thinking about Deybri. Despite her last letter, how could they ever see each other before years passed? Was he still chasing an impossible image?

“You do make things hard for yourself, Majer.” Drakeyt shook his head.

“It's a habit of mine, I've been told,” Rahl replied. “I'll finish as quickly as I can. I'd like to have my reply ready to send off right after muster.”

“I'll need a bit of time to tell Fysett and Fedeor and get the squads reorganized anyway. You won't be delaying anything.”

“I'll try to be quick.” Rahl walked back to the gelding, untied him, and mounted.

When he reached the chandlery, it was closed, but he pounded on the door until Khelra answered.

Rahl had taken over the makeshift desk in the chandlery the night before to write out his report to Taryl, detailing the situation in Lahenta and his decision not to administer any sort of punitive action to those remaining. He had just wished he was writing Deybri, but by the time he had finished, he was too tired and too discouraged to attempt adding to his intermittently written epistle to her.

“You're back,” offered Khelra ambiguously. “Early.”

“Only for a little while. I need a quiet place to write a response to my latest orders.”

“You weren't that quiet, Majer.” She stepped back.

“I apologize. The overcommander wants an immediate reply, and there's really nowhere to write in that barn.” Rahl refrained from pointing out that he could have taken over her quarters.

She did not reply that there were other places where he could write. After a pause, she inquired, “The Emperor in his great mercy has decided against burning Lahenta to the ground? Or does he just wish to spare the redberries and the distillery?”

“No one's burning anything.” Rahl smiled wryly.

“And after you leave, Majer…then what?” Khelra was most unlike Deybri. The cooper was short, muscular, and broad-shouldered, with sandy hair chopped short enough that she could have passed for a youth at a distance…yet she and Deybri did share one quality that shone through both, and that was an honesty of spirit.

Rahl couldn't help but feel sorry for Khelra, trapped as she had been by circumstances into consorting with a weak and ambitious man. Was he sympathetic because the same had almost happened to him? “The overcommander is arriving, and he's even less likely to burn anything. He has to report directly to the Emperor.”

“You know where the lamp is.” Khelra turned and walked away, leaving the chandlery door ajar.

Rahl stepped inside, knowing the space was empty, yet still scanning it with his order-senses, even as he wondered what he should have said to Khelra. He could sense she was displeased, and it wasn't because he was leaving or not leaving. Had his very presence promised something? He was thankful he didn't have that much to add to what he had written the night before.

After he had finished his dispatch to Taryl—less than a page of additional comments—Rahl went back out to the gelding and extracted the small mirror, carrying it back into the main room of the chandlery/cooperage. Then he set it on the plank that served as the makeshift desk.

He seated himself on the stool and looked into the glass, his concentration focused on the metaled road that led from the outskirts of Lahenta to Thalye, as he tried to visualize a kaystone that gave the name of Thalye and the number 5. The glass first darkened, then began to fill with swirling mists. After a moment, they cleared to reveal an empty stretch of road, without riders, or wagons. There was no kaystone, but to one side was a low hillock, and at the top was a broken stub of stone. Rahl nodded to himself.

He concentrated once more, this time trying to reach out to find the nearest company of rebels, visualizing their maroon-and-khaki uniforms. The mists returned to the glass and swirled across it, finally parting to show a hazy group of mounted troopers slogging toward him along a paved road in the rain. Rahl could feel himself becoming light-headed, and immediately released the image, taking a deep breath as he sat on the old stool.

He turned, but did not rise, as Khelra walked toward him, her steps tentative. He could sense a combination of fear and curiosity. “Yes?”

“You were using that glass, weren't you, Majer? Like the old magi'i?”

Rahl nodded. He stood slowly, then rewrapped the glass and eased it under his arm. “I'll be going. Some of the rest of Second Army will be arriving later. Please be careful.”

“As if you cared…ser.”

“I do care. I wish you no harm, and I'm sorry that your consort threw in with the rebels. I've already reported that you had nothing to do with what he did and that your assistance was valuable.”

“Like as you said about Gorsyn, most likely.”

“I only said that Gorsyn paid his tariffs, most likely knowing where they were going, but not ever asking.”

At that, the cooper frowned. “He owns the distillery.”

“You own the chandlery and cooperage,” Rahl replied with a smile, then inclined his head. “Thank you. We do need to begin scouting before the main forces arrive.”

“You're welcome, Majer.” She inclined her head.

Rahl could feel her eyes on his back as he left, and her feeling of puzzlement. At least she wasn't angry anymore. He didn't need to make any more unnecessary enemies anywhere. He suspected he had enough, and probably among both the Imperial forces and the rebels.

Once outside in the early light, under a cool and clear green-blue sky, he mounted and rode across the square, then south to where Third Company was forming up. The wind was blowing briskly out of the southwest and held a slight dampness.

Drakeyt turned in the saddle as Rahl approached. “You weren't long.”

“The reception was cool, and I didn't have that much to write.” Rahl held up the envelope. It wasn't sealed, but he'd never had a seal. He extended it to the captain. “My dispatch to the overcommander.”

Drakeyt leaned to the side and took the envelope, then straightened. “Here comes Fysett. We're also sending Halamar and Jugyst with him.” As the three troopers neared, Drakeyt went on, “My thought was that you and fourth squad should take the road almost to Thalye—or until you discover any signs of rebels. That will give us an idea of what might lie along the road. The other squads will fan out along the side lanes, and I'll take second squad up the lane that the map says connects with the old road. If we see any traces of rebels, we'll return to the main road, and I'll send a messenger for you.”

Rahl had thought of doing it the other way, but he realized that Drakeyt was right. They needed to know what would face them on the main road first. “We can do that.”

Immediately after sending off the three troopers and completing muster, Rahl and fourth squad headed straight out of Lahenta on the paved main road. Rahl sensed nothing, and the only signs of the retreating rebels were a few hoofprints on the shoulder of the road, all of them looking to be several days old.

Slightly less than three kays out of Lahenta, Rahl and the reorganized fourth squad did find the remnants of the five-kay kaystone—and the hillock was exactly as he had seen in the screeing glass. At that point, he looked across the sky ahead. He could make out what might have been clouds to the southwest, but they had to be somewhere beyond Thalye.

If
…if he had used the glass correctly the second time, then the way to Thalye was clear—at the moment, but the riders had been headed toward Thalye, and someone wanted them there enough to dispatch them through a rainstorm.

For all that, the rest of the day brought no other signs of rebels, not even on the back road, not so far as Drakeyt and second squad had gone, and Rahl could not find any sign of rebels or traps. All the squads of Third Company returned to Lahenta, the latest being first squad under Quelsyn, a bit before sunset. The senior squad leader did return with several yearling lambs, obtained with the promise of script from Drakeyt.

“With the rest of the army on its way, ser,” explained Quelsyn, “I thought it might be best if we procured some fresh meat for Third Company while it was there for the procuring.”

Both Rahl and Drakeyt smiled at that.

Taryl and two battalions of mounted infantry arrived in Lahenta late on twoday, just after sunset, although the clouds that had rolled in from the southwest had brought twilight even earlier. The overcommander had no compunctions about requisitioning dwellings—or at least none about requisitioning Gorsyn's.

Still, it was pitch-dark by the time the overcommander sent a messenger for Rahl, and he arrived in the small study at the north end of the distiller's dwelling.

Taryl said little until Rahl closed the door. “Sit down.” The overcommander gestured to one of the cushioned wooden chairs set across from the desk behind which he sat.

“What did you discover today?” asked Taryl.

“At the moment, the approaches to Thalye are without rebel forces nearby. I believe that there are a number moving this way, however.”

“I am most certain that there are. Is your conclusion based on surmise, or on some form of evidence?”

Rahl did not speak for a moment. Did he want to tell Taryl? Finally, he cleared his throat. “I've been trying to follow your advice and think ahead. It did cross my mind that it would be easier to plan if I could find some way to discover what was happening beyond the range of my eyes and order-senses. So…I've been working with trying to develop my screeing abilities.”

Taryl's eyes widened, if only slightly. “How do you know you're discerning what is as opposed to what you wish to see?”

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