“If you wouldn’t mind joining us?” Meryssa inclined her head. “Have you met Rahl?”
“I have not.” Aleasya set her platter and mug on the table next to Rahl, then slipped gracefully onto the bench.
“Aleasya’s an arms instructor, but she’s best with blades,” Meryssa said.
“I’m not nearly so good as Zastryl or Fhiera. They’re true armsmasters.”
“You’re good enough to have done a tour as a ship’s champion.”
“Anyone who’s trained here and made arms level can do that,” demurred Aleasya. “They don’t really take arms that seriously in any of the port cities, especially in Candar or Austra. In Hamor, if there’s real trouble, they bring in mages. We’re the only sea traders who need armsmen on every vessel.”
Rahl just listened.
“She started as a trading marine,” explained Meryssa. “It’s better to be a staff arms trainer here. Easier to keep in shape and condition, too.” Abruptly, Khalyt and Meryssa stood.
“We need to go,” explained Meryssa. “You need more practice,” Aleasya said. “Pursers can’t just handle coins and supplies, especially around Jerans.”
“On oneday?” acceded Meryssa. “In the morning, I can work you in somewhere.”
“I’ll be there.”
Aleasya took a swallow of ale, then turned to Rahl. “She could be a good blade if she’d work out more.”
Rahl didn’t want to get into that. He wouldn’t have known what made a good blade and what didn’t. “Why do you and Khalyt eat here in the mess? You don’t have to, do you?”
She laughed. “It’s all about coins. The staff doesn’t pay to eat here. I’m not consorted, and I’m not interested in anyone. So I save my coins and buy shares in one of the trading companies. Someday, I’ll be able to sell them and have the coins to build a place of my own. I already have a piece of ground out east, just south of the wall…”
“Are you from Nylan?”
“Oh, yes. I wouldn’t live anywhere else. My mother is one of the port pilots, and my father is an assistant harbormaster.”
“But you eat here?”
“You wouldn’t want to eat what either of them cooks, when they cook… if they cook.” Aleasya shook her head. “I love them dearly, but their idea of food is cheese and black bread, with some sort of sausage or meat and whatever green or fruit is handy.”
“You train people in arms. Will you be training me?”
“I’ll probably see you when you start arms training, but I won’t work with you.”
“Why not?” asked Rahl. She seemed friendly enough and open, and that was more than some of those he had met in Nylan.
“You’re listed as a probable black mage, and that means you won’t get more than a basic farm with edged weapons.”
A probable black mage? Was that what Tamryn and
Leyla had meant by order-skills? Why hadn’t they just said that? “They said I might have some ability with order.”
That brought another laugh. “They never tell you. They’re afraid that things won’t work out, and then you’ll be angry or disappointed.”
“But why… it seems… cruel not to let people know…”
“Rahl… it is Rahl, isn’t it? I’m not that good With names. Black mages and black engineers are the ones who run Nylan. They’re the important ones. Everyone looks up to them. For all the young people who show some order-ability, only a few get to be mages. It’s not just talent, and it’s not just work, but it’s also a way of looking at the world. Some can handle it, like Khalyt. He’ll never have more than a slight bit of order-skills, but he understands engines, and he’ll do something special someday.”
Rahl nodded. “This way… of looking at the world. What way is that?”
Another laugh followed his question. “I wouldn’t know. I’m a good blade trying to get better and close to being an armsmaster, if I can. It’s just what I’ve heard.”
“What have you heard about that way of looking at the world?”
Aleasya looked sideways at Rahl, almost sharply. Then she shrugged. “It’s only what I’ve heard. To be an effective black mage, you have to be able to look at the world as if you did not matter.”
Rahl almost snorted. He found it hard to believe that mages like Puvort or Kadara didn’t put themselves first. Puvort certainly hadn’t gone out of his way to steer Rahl in a less dangerous path, and Kadara had had her mind made up about Rahl from the time she’d first seen him. “Do you really think they all do that?”
Aleasya offered a broad smile. “No. But most of those I know try hard, and sometimes I’d wager that they get to that point.” Her smile vanished. “If you want to stay here in Nylan, you’d better concentrate on doing your best and stop worrying about everyone else.”
Rahl smiled politely. “I’ll have to keep that in mind, but it’s hard when they’re the ones who will decide your future.”
Aleasya shook her head. “You decide your future. They judge you on what actions you take to make that future possible. Look, Rahl, it’s like using a blade or any weapon. How you handle the weapon decides whether you survive, not what people think about how you handle it.” She stood. “I need to be going. Best of fortune, Rahl.”
“Thank you.” Rahl watched her go. She seemed the most honest and open, and yet she sounded like everyone else. Do your best, and everything will be fine. Be honest, and things will work out. He’d done his best, and he’d been honest. So why was he in Nylan, and why were people telling him he might not be able to stay?
On sevenday morning, Rahl still had to meet with one of the mages and attend the Hamorian class, but he did not have to go to the print shop in the afternoon. Even so, after he finished eating, as he made his way to the small study, he wondered which mage he would be seeing. He didn’t have to wonder long. Kadara was sitting at the table waiting for him.
“Good morning, magistra.”
She motioned for him to sit down, then waited until he was seated. “How far have you read into
The Basis of Order
?‘
“A little over thirty pages, magistra.”
“What have you learned?”
Rahl wasn’t that certain he’d learned much of anything except some clever sayings and a number of commonsense observations. “There are a number of observations and cautions, but I have not read anything that is instructive.”
“You do not feel cautions that will prevent you from getting yourself into danger are instructive?” Kadara arched her eyebrows.
“Magistra, I have no doubt that such cautions will be most useful, but…” Rahl stopped, trying to find a way to express what he thought without offending Kadara.
“But what?”
Rahl forced himself to ignore the edge hidden behind the seemingly mild question. “I have the feeling that the book was written by someone of far greater ability than I possess for those of equal ability. I do not think I have the ability or knowledge of order itself for these observations to be as useful as they could be or that they might be.”
“You don’t think such cautions and observations are that useful to you now?”
Kadara’s patronizing and superior tone grated on Rahl, but he forced a smile. “It’s probably my fault, magistra, but I’ve never been terribly good at learning things when people are telling me what not to do rather than showing me. what I should do.”
“Perhaps you should consider changing how you learn. It’s apparent that you haven’t been that successful in the way you have been learning… or failing to learn.”
Rahl had to wonder why Kadara was deliberately trying to anger him. She couldn’t be that inflexible, or that stupid. Yet… he couldn’t really ask that.
“By saying that,” Kadara went on, “you’re basically excusing yourself from learning. You’re saying that you can’t learn because you have to be taught, and no one’s teaching you.
The Basis of Order
provides the limits. It’s up to you to figure out how to work within them—if you want to stay in Nylan. Life doesn’t provide you with private tutors, Rahl.”
That wasn’t much help, thought Rahl. He knew all that, but outside of a few things like sensing how people felt and making girls feel better, he didn’t really know anything about order, and he scarcely knew where to start. “I understand that, magistra, but I have no idea where to start.”
That did surprise Kadara. After a moment of silence, she said, “You know what most people feel, don’t you? How long have you known that?”
“I always had a little feel for it, but I’ve been able to sense more in the past few years.”
“That’s an order-ability. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that?”
“I knew that, but I don’t know of other order-abilities or how to discover them or what they might be. There are hints in the book, but I can’t sense when it might rain, and I can’t feel what’s under the ground. I can feel a bit when things aren’t put together right, like ink, and I can sometimes sense where things are in the dark.”
Kadara laughed, harshly. “You have more order-abilities than some who call themselves mages, and you’ve done less with them. Don’t expect anyone to feel sorry for you.”
Rahl wasn’t asking that. “I’m not. I’m asking how I can learn to improve and expand what I know.”
“Have you thought about looking at everything in the way you sense it through order? From the food you eat to the way the printing press is put together? Or looking at the rain that way? Or a building? You can’t do anything until you understand how order and chaos work within it.”
Rahl had to admit that made sense, but he hated admitting it.
“You have to ask questions about how things work before you ask why people do what they do,” Kadara went on. “You’re too wrapped up in Rahl and why everyone’s against poor Rahl. You left a girl in Land’s End with a child. You left your parents behind. You broke two men’s arms. And you’re feeling sorry for yourself.”
Inside himself, Rahl bristled. He wouldn’t have had to break Jeason’s and Jaired’s arms if Puvort hadn’t made them attack, and he wouldn’t have had to leave Land’s End if Puvort hadn’t been so intent on driving Rahl out, even to the point of lying to the Council. But he’d already told the magisters that, and no one paid any attention.
“There are reasons behind what happened. You’ve told us,” Kadara continued. “It doesn’t make any difference. The arms are broken, and the child will be born fatherless, and all that is because you didn’t think far enough ahead. You waited until it was too late to go to the magisters. You decided you knew enough that you didn’t need instruction. You avoided your responsibilities, and when your failure to think ahead created a problem you couldn’t escape, you blamed people who only saw the results of your failures and acted on what they saw.”
All that might be, Rahl fumed, but magisters were supposed to help, not stand aside and watch things go wrong, then blame and condemn.
“Now… the choice is yours. You can start thinking ahead and trying to explore your talents, or you can keep blaming us. I don’t see much point in discussing order and chaos any further at the moment. It won’t do any good until you start thinking for yourself instead of blaming everyone else for your problems.” Kadara stood. “You can talk it over with Leyla on oneday.” With that, she turned and left the study.
Rahl just sat there for a moment, furious, his fists clenching, his jaw tightening, thoughts careening through his mind.
Don’t offer any real guidance except to look ahead and develop skills you don’t know about and that no one will tell you about except what not to do. Don’t get angry, and just accept everything we say. And don’t bother us until you admit everything is all your fault.
Finally, he rose and headed for the Hamorian class. It wouldn’t matter if he arrived there early, and he might as well do something from which he could learn—unlike the largely useless sessions with the magisters.
When he walked into the large room, one of the younger girls ran toward him. “Rahl,
escara amia?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “
Escio amia, Coraza
.”
Even after less than an eightday, he’d learned more than a few words and phrases of Hamorian, and it seemed as though each day he learned more. More important, Magister Thorl was only concerned about his learning language and customs.
Coraza’s cheerfulness and enthusiasm helped Rahl to put aside Kadara’s stinging and unfair comments for the time while he was learning Hamorian.
After leaving Magister Thorl’s session, Rahl made his way to the mess, where he took a heaping platter of lace potatoes and baked sea bass, along with a mug of ale. He actually took a swig of ale, then refilled the mug before he left the serving area.
“Rahl!”
He looked around and saw Aleasya sitting with another woman. She was motioning for him to join them. Rahl could sense the darkness that signified a magister around the other woman, although she wore dark green, and he hesitated. How could he avoid them? The last person he wanted to meet was another magister.
“Come on!” Aleasya called cheerfully.
With an inner shrug and sigh, Rahl headed for the two. He slid onto the bench beside the weapons instructor.
“Rahl… I’d like you to meet someone. This is Deybri. She’s one of the healers here.”
Deybri was almost as broad-shouldered as Aleasya, but her hair was light brown and curly, barely neck length, and her eyes were brown with gold flecks. She was clearly older, perhaps as much as ten years older than Rahl, but beautiful in a quiet way.