Mage-Guard of Hamor (63 page)

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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

BOOK: Mage-Guard of Hamor
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“Maybe we are.” He managed a smile. “Maybe we could still grow up together.”

Her laugh was shaky, but it was a laugh, and he lifted his other hand to take both of hers in his.

LXXXV

Oneday morning was far more like a spring day than winter, although winter had several eightdays yet to run, with a warm and gentle breeze flowing through the open windows of the administrator's study. Taryl did look more rested, finally, and the deep circles under his eyes had disappeared, but he was more angular than he once had been—and Taryl had never carried any fat.

“…and the patrollers will just have to put some of the troublemakers and cutpurses in one of the station gaols until one of the mage-guards can question them,” Rahl concluded his summary of the mage-guard/patroller situation in Nubyat.

“Once the younger mage-guards get more experience, Chewyrt can change that.”

Rahl nodded. “What can you tell me about Prince Golyat and the rebels?”

“As for the situation with regard to the rebels…” Taryl coughed, then continued, “Shuchyl should be in control of Elmari by now, but we haven't gotten any dispatches yet, either from the fleet offshore or from Shuchyl himself.”

“If he has, when will we move on Sastak?” asked Rahl.

“Shortly,” replied Taryl. “I expect we'll be able to begin mobilizing within a few days.”

Taryl was waiting for something. That was clear. But what? And why? “I've certainly appreciated the time here, but I almost feel guilty, ser, just waiting.”

“Every tactics manual cautions against both unnecessary delay and impatience, but none of them define either one except in generalities, Rahl. That's because the terms can only be defined in context of the particular situation. Right now, both supplies and tempers are getting short in Sastak.”

“We're blockading the port, but we're not cutting off their access to the surrounding land.”

“You're right, and the land is fertile,” Taryl pointed out. “It's one of the breadbaskets of Merowey and Hamor.”

Rahl frowned.

“All their surplus grain and tubers were shipped out for hard coin after last fall's harvest. It is every year. There's not enough left for both the port and the troopers and their mounts.”

Rahl wasn't certain that was the only reason for delay, but Taryl wasn't about to say more. “What will you be having me do?”

“Third Company will be utilized as it was in the attack on Nubyat.”

“Standing by until needed, or until I figure out what to do, later than I should?”

“Something like that,” Taryl said amiably. “Your abilities and the support Third Company provides are still largely unrecognized.”

“After the wall?”

“Anyone on the rebel side who understood what you did is dead. Those on our side who know you did it won't be able to explain how it could have been your doing in any fashion that is believable to those who were not there. Thus, the credit, if one can call it that, will go to me or be attributed to someone of greater experience who is currently elsewhere, but who will be rumored to have been here.” Taryl laughed, a sound that combined humor with a sardonic cynicism without being cold. “Feats of great and stupid strength are always attributed to the young, and those of skill and devastation to the old because that is what all, except the young, wish to believe.” He stood, signifying that it was time for Rahl to head out on his daily duties.

Rahl rose quickly. “I'll see you tomorrow, ser, unless there's something urgent.”

“Let's hope there isn't.”

After offering a smile, Rahl left the study. He had only taken three or four long strides away from the study door and from Falyka and her ledgers and neat stacks of papers when he saw Deybri coming down the long corridor. He smiled and kept walking toward her. “Good morning.” He stopped short, just looking into her golden brown eyes.

“Good morning, Rahl.” An amused smile played around her lips, but beneath it was both warmth, and preoccupation.

“You have some problems? Besides me, that is?”

“Some of the troopers are getting something like a chaos-flux. It's not too bad, but when it gets warmer…more of them will start getting it. They really should be in real barracks.”

“They'll probably be moving out before too long. That might help.”

“It might.”

“You could help my chaos, too,” Rahl bantered, offering a grin he hoped was disarming. “You could accept my offer to consort you.”

“Did you actually propose?” Her smile was amused, but he could sense the worry behind it.

“Several times, as I recall, if not exactly in those words.” He paused. “You're worried about my proposal?”

She sighed. “A woman can't keep many secrets from you.”

“I can sense how you feel, but not necessarily why,” he pointed out.

“You know how I feel. I can't hide that from you. Much as I want you, I still worry that your loins are playing a larger part than your head or heart.” She leaned forward and kissed his lips, gently. “It's all very strange. In some ways, we've known each other our entire lives, even from before the first time we met. In others, we don't know each other at all…”

“If that's so…why did you come here?”

“Rahl…isn't it better to look for your heart's desire than to turn your back on it? I
think
and feel that you are, that our spirits could become one, but I want to
know
it, and I want you to know that as well.”

“That's why I wrote you…and gave you the letters I never had a chance to post…the letters I wrote hoping I could send…”

“I've read them, and they help…They help a great deal.” Her eyes were bright again.

He took her hands. “I'm sorry. You are my heart's desire—and far more than that.” He swallowed. “I won't press you again, not because I don't want you for my consort, but because you know what I want, and I'll wait for your decision.”

“Rahl…don't…don't look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“You know what.”

He offered a contrite smile. “I'm sorry.”

“How do I know? You're so self-contained.”

Rahl just looked at Deybri, then dropped all his shields, letting her sense everything—the longing, the love, the fear that she would reject him—even the desire.

“Rahl…please.” Her face had gone white.

“You wanted to know.” Rahl eased his shields back into place. “How else could I tell you?”

The smallest of tears oozed from the corners of her eyes. “It's hard, Rahl. Being around you is like either being in pitch-darkness or blinded by the sun. With your shields in place, I don't sense anything about how you feel. Without them in place, what you feel overwhelms me.”

What could he say? Finally, he just took her hand and squeezed it gently. His own eyes burned, and he swallowed.

She squeezed his hand back. “I'm sorry. That's not fair. You try so hard. It's me, not you. Please…I do love you. Please?”

He nodded.

“I should go. I have to tell Taryl what we need before he starts meeting with all the commanders.”

Rahl released her hand, then turned and watched her as she walked past Falyka and into the administrator's study. After a moment, he made his way to the stairs, then to the stable.

After saddling the gelding, Rahl gathered his three troopers and went through his morning rounds, then made his way to the harbor to see if Chewyrt had anything to report. He hadn't even reined up outside the mage-guard station when Pemyla, one of the junior mage-guards, hurried toward him.

“Big cruiser coming in, ser,” offered Pemyla. “It's flying banners, the Triad banners, it looks like.”

“It is? I need to see.” Rahl urged the gelding past the younger mage-guard and toward pier two. “If it is, the overcommander will need to know immediately.”

After reining up at the seaward end of the pier, Rahl studied the banners, then turned and rode back to the waiting mage-guard and his three-trooper escort.

“Sovarth, you ride back and find Captain Drakeyt. Tell him that we'll need a squad to act as an honor guard for the Triads. And we'll need a carriage or a fancy wagon. Faslyn, you ride to the Administrator's Residence and tell his aide that both the High Command Triad and the Mage-Guard Triad are aboard the cruiser.”

“Yes, ser!”

Rahl turned to Pemyla. “You need to inform Undercaptain Chewyrt immediately. Tell him that I've taken steps to inform the overcommander.”

“Yes, ser.”

Once Pemyla had hurried off, Rahl looked back at the cruiser, with its dark hull and white superstructure. Two Triads in Nubyat? That worried him.

He didn't like the idea of meeting the Triads personally, but someone had to, and he dismounted and handed the gelding's reins to Naimyl, the remaining trooper. “Go and tell whoever's on duty at the mage-guard station that we'll probably need a wagon for baggage or cargo and to have one ready. After that, just stand by where you're out of the way but can see when I'll need you. I'll wait here at the end of the pier for now.”

“Yes, ser.”

As Naimyl rode toward the mage-guard station, Rahl looked back at the incoming cruiser again, then shook his head.

Drakeyt arrived with first and second squads just as the
Ryalthmer
was doubling up the lines to the bollards on the pier. “The Triads?”

“Two of the three,” Rahl replied.

“The administrator's carriage isn't far behind.”

“Good…and thank you.”

“I always did want to see the Triads. That way I can tell everyone that they pull on their boots one foot at a time. We'll form up here at the foot of the pier, one squad on each side. That will leave space for the administrator's coach at the end of the squads.”

“And I can greet them and lead them to the coach.”

“You sound most enthusiastic, Majer.”

“I will be by the time I greet them.” Rahl turned and hurried toward the cruiser.

He stood waiting until the gangway was swung into place. Then he waited some more until the two Triads appeared on the quarterdeck. Behind them were other mage-guards, aides of some sort, predominantly women, Rahl noted.

Finally, Fieryn strode down the gangway, followed by Dhoryk.

Rahl bowed his head politely. “Triad Fieryn, Triad Dhoryk, welcome to Nubyat.” He let nervousness play across the surface of the shields he was trying to keep hidden, as well as some worry. “As soon as we saw your banners we sent word to the overcommander and acting administrator.”

“Taryl is handling three positions, again, then?”

“I beg your pardon, ser?” Rahl projected the slightest bit of confusion.

“He's always overworking himself and those around him.” Fieryn's words carried amusement and condescension. “I'm amazed that there was even a senior mage-guard here to greet us.” He glanced to the end of the pier. “And an honor guard as well.”

“All Triads merit an honor guard, ser, as they should.” Behind his shields, Rahl hoped he was treading the line between simple conscientiousness and worry in his projected feelings while not revealing how much he was concealing.

“That is something a few others should remember.” Fieryn paused. “I've met you. You're Rahl, the one from the ironworks.”

“Yes, ser.”

“You've been in most of the battles, have you not?”

“Yes, ser.”

“As Taryl's assistant, or with the troopers?”

“With Third Company, ser.”

Fieryn's eyes dropped to the overlong truncheon at Rahl's belt. “That's right. An order mage-guard with skill in arms.” He looked up. “Ah…I see that the administrator and his coach have arrived.”

“For Taryl, that is positively punctual,” murmured Dhoryk.

Rahl decided against commenting. “If I could escort you…”

“Lead on, Mage-Guard Rahl.”

Rahl turned and set out to cover the two-hundred-plus cubits at a measured pace.

Taryl had indeed accompanied the coach, and he stood beside it, waiting as Rahl led the way through the honor guard and to the coach. Taryl glanced at Rahl. “Thank you, Rahl. Report as usual before dinner.”

“Yes, ser.” Rahl stepped back.

“Greetings, Fieryn, and you, Dhoryk. You do us great honor in coming to Merowey…”

Rahl slipped away and back toward the
Ryalthmer.
Nor was he looking forward to dealing with either Triad's aides.

LXXXVI

With some relief, Rahl did discover that the aides to Fieryn and Dhoryk seemed to have no overt agendas but did insist on a greater briefing on the situation in Merowey than Rahl had expected. After dealing with them, he had to hurry through the rest of the day, trying to deal with the usual—the fact that no matter what he and Taryl had done, it never seemed to be enough. Even so, he did manage to return to Taryl's study well before dinner. That need had been clear from Taryl's words on the pier, since Rahl often did not report in the evening.

“Did either Fieryn or Dhoryk say anything of interest?” Those were Taryl's first words when Rahl entered the chamber.

“Fieryn asked if you were handling three positions. I asked what he meant, politely, but naively, and he replied that you overworked yourself, with the implication that you overworked everyone else as well. He said he was surprised that there was even a senior mage-guard on the pier. Dhoryk murmured something about your lack of punctuality, and Fieryn asked if I'd been in the battles, then remembered that I came from the ironworks and promptly seemed to lose interest in me. That was all.”

“You didn't ever relax your shields?”

“No, ser.” Rahl didn't mention that he wouldn't have dared after all of Taryl's emphasis on keeping them solid around older and more experienced mage-guards.

Taryl fingered his chin, then glanced out the window at the early evening clouds gathering out over the ocean to the west. “After Thalye, you asked a question. Do you remember it?”

Rahl managed to conceal a frown. What had it been? Oh, he'd asked if Taryl had been dissatisfied, and Taryl had told him that he had a lesson to learn, one that could not be taught. “Yes, ser.” His words were polite.

“Good.” Taryl continued to glance out the window.

“Did the Triads reveal anything new?” Rahl finally asked, knowing that Taryl did not intend to say more about that lesson but wondering why Taryl had brought the issue up now.

“Scarcely,” replied Taryl. “We only talked in the coach, and they were more interested in finding out the situation here. They were pleased that you recognized the requirements of their status but suggested that Nubyat does need a permanent honor guard, among other things.” The overcommander laughed.

“That would not be the highest of my priorities, ser.”

“Nor mine, as you well know.” After another pause, Taryl went on, “You handled the shields well enough. Neither of them realized that you actually had shields. But don't get too confident. They had other things on their minds, and had they really been concerned about you, they would have sensed more.”

Rahl was both pleased and slightly irritated, but he kept the irritation behind his shields. How many times had he had to hold shields against powerful mages besides Taryl? “I'm still learning. I haven't been around many mages with abilities like yours, ser.”

“That may be, but when you are, it may be too late to learn.”

“Did they say anything else, ser?”

“They allowed me to pay my respects, and they'll be joining me for dinner. We have a longer meeting scheduled for tomorrow when they're more rested. They feel that they should be present when we confront Golyat in Sastak.”

That bothered Rahl, although he could not say why, especially since that would place more strong mage-guards against Golyat.

“That will make matters interesting, although it will strengthen the forces we present to Golyat.”

“I would not have expected them to come here,” Rahl temporized.

“They could not do otherwise once the port was open, not and claim that they supported the Emperor.” Taryl glanced toward the door. “I need to prepare for dinner, but I'd like you to plan on meeting at this time every day while the Triads are here, in addition to the morning meetings.”

“Yes, ser.”

After he left Taryl, Rahl went to find Deybri, but she was not in the staff dining chamber, nor in her room. He finally found her sitting on one of the stone benches in the walled garden below the balcony off the grand dining salon.

“I've been looking for you,” Rahl said quietly. “Might I join you?”

She nodded.

“I'm sorry about this morning,” he said as he settled onto the backless stone bench, straddling the end so that he faced her.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm the one…”

Rahl took her left hand, gently. What could he say? “I didn't mean to overwhelm you, or upset you. The shields…Taryl told me again, just a few moments ago, that I needed to do better.”

“Rahl…you do…but don't follow Taryl all the way….”

“You know something about him, don't you?”

“I asked him the other day why he had been so good to us, and I told him that it couldn't have been just for the mage-guard and Hamor. He gave me a sad smile. Do you know what he said?”

Rahl could imagine, but he shook his head.

“He said that he'd once been too young and too driven. He almost said more. He didn't have to.”

“That makes it so hard,” Rahl said slowly. “I feel like…if I do what I must to survive…I'll lose you. If I don't, I'll lose you another way.”

“You…you have to work on your shields. I can't…” She dropped her eyes.

Rahl could sense the effort she made to avoid tears. “I could just use partial shields,” he offered, “when I'm with you, but I worry about that, too.”

She lifted her head, and her eyes met his. “You can't do that. In time, I'd wonder what you were hiding, even if you hid nothing, and you'd try to protect me, and that would make me suspicious.”

Hard as it was, Rahl just held her hand and waited, taking in her gold-flecked eyes and the warmth behind them.

Deybri turned more toward him and extended her other hand. She swallowed. “This is hard. I never thought I'd find love, and I never thought it would be so wonderful and so painful.”

“I didn't, either.”

She straightened slightly. “I've asked you to be honest, and I have to do the same.”

Rahl winced within. Was she going to refuse him, to say that love wasn't enough?

“I'm not a great healer or a great mage, and you will be one, but you aren't yet.” Deybri pursed her lips, and her eyes dropped, but only for a moment. “The kind of love we have, and will have, is not halfhearted. Nor is the kind of magery you possess.”

As if a sudden light had illuminated the fading glow in the garden, Rahl understood where Deybri's words were leading, but he forced himself to listen, because Deybri needed to voice those words herself.

“You won't be complete, and who you should and must be, not until you finish what you've begun with Taryl. You don't do anything halfway, not anymore. If I become all of your life, now…” She shook her head.

“What do you see, then?” Rahl barely spoke the words.

“I…don't know. I only know that consorting you now is wrong, and not consorting you is even more wrong.”

“You will consort me, then, when the time is right?”

“I can only say that I will consort you—but not until after whatever happens at Sastak.”

I will consort you.
Her thought was even stronger than her words.

Rahl could feel the burning in his own eyes, and he eased forward and enfolded her in his arms. Their lips met.

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