Natural Ordermage (72 page)

Rahl managed not to frown. The older brother wasn’t the Emperor? Yet he was an administrator who served the Emperor.

“That won’t last long,” opined Hegyr.

“You’d better hope not,” countered Vosyn. “The last revolt, the Emperor drafted a good fifty mage-guards to help the army.”

“That was more than a century ago.”

Rahl ate and listened.

“As good as their chatter is, Rahl, you’d better get moving,” suggested Carlyse, “unless you want to give Myala good cause for writing you up for being late. She goes by the manual and then some.”

That was the last thing Rahl wanted, and he left the mess quickly. He was at the duty desk just behind the waspy mage-guard.

“Let’s go,” was all Myala said.

Rahl checked his truncheon, adjusted his visor cap, and followed her.

Myala’s and Rahl’s first sweep of the piers confirmed that the Jeranyi vessel, with its guards, was still tied at pier two.

By midmorning, when Myala and Rahl were making another tour of pier three, Rahl could see another iron-hulled vessel doubling up at the end berth and the gangway coming down onto the pier. “There’s that other Jeranyi ship.”

“We’ll take a closer look.” Myala’s voice was almost an order.

Rahl found himself bridling at her tone, but he said nothing, just matched his pace to hers as they walked toward the just-docked ship.

Once they neared the Jeranyi vessel’s stem, Rahl began to count the crew. Those he saw numbered more than twice what he’d known on the
Diev
, and he had the feeling that there were far more crew members belowdecks than he saw topside.

“Too large a crew for a merchanter,” Rahl observed quietly.

“Obviously.” Myala’s tone was dryly condescending.

Rahl could make out the same concealed gun ports as on the other Jeranyi vessel, and roughly the same level of concealed chaos as he’d noted there as well; but, after Myala’s last comment, he kept his observations to himself. He also didn’t see any signs of the deck crew preparing to off-load cargo, and that was normally one of the first things a merchanter did once she was secured to the pier.

On the way back down the pier, on the far side, Rahl smiled pleasantly at an attractive brunette girl, clearly using her obvious charms to help her father sell an array of brightly colored shirts and tunics. Then, as they passed the cart and half tent that shielded the father and daughter from the sun, Rahl waited until Myala looked in the other direction. Then he concentrated on feeling the light flow around him, although he kept walking a pace behind her and to her left.

He could sense her turning, then looking. “Rahl?”

He waited only until she turned her head in the other direction before releasing his hold on the light flow. “I’m right here. I had to adjust my boot.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Adjust your boot, both my left elbows. You were ogling that vendor girl.”

Rahl shrugged as expansively as he could. “What can I say?”

“Not on duty.”

“I won’t.”

“You just did.” Myala snorted.

“I won’t do it again… at least for a while.” He offered a grin. “Don’t be so obvious.”

That confirmed for Rahl that Myala, and possibly many of the chaos-type mage-guards, had limited order-senses. Certainly, Khaill and Jyrolt—and Craelyt and the . captain—possessed a fuller range of senses, but then, since the mage-guards co-opted all the mages in Hamor, one way or another, it made sense that many, especially the patrol mages, were not so talented.

While the day had already been long and was far from over, he’d learned more than-a few things, but he was far more worried about what he hadn’t learned—such as the connection between the Jeranyi ships and Shyret and the Nylan Merchant Association. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t his duty.

That didn’t seem to help much. He still worried.

Twoday evening, in deserted areas around the quarters, Rahl worked more on using the light flow and on sensing his way around when using it. He had to give up early because it was exhausting, even though he didn’t feel worn-out at the time. He just felt drained and lightheaded afterward. He had to drag himself back to his quarters, pausing to banter some to Vosyn in the corridor, before escaping to his chamber and his bed, where he soon collapsed into a deep sleep. That lasted until sometime before dawn, when a series of nightmares tormented him.

When he awoke he was sweating, but he remembered little of the dreams, save a short fragment where he and Deybri were on separate ships passing in the afternoon, and all he could do was watch while she was carried farther away. Something about that bothered him even more than the idea of. separation, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.

He cleaned up, shaved, dressed, and hurried through breakfast to get to the duty desk before Myala. As he waited, he had to wonder why Taryl had been so insistent on his being stationed in Swartheld. Even to him, it was clear that the chaos-mages had a clear advantage over him in dealing with problems. Rahl’s sole edge was that he seemed to be able, to sense some trouble earlier than they could.

Myala said little once she arrived, just nodded and headed out, clearly expecting him to follow her. Once again, Rahl had to take several quick steps to catch up with her.

By the time Rahl and Myala had reached the end of pier two on their first patrol, a third Jeranyi ship was tied up at the seaward end, almost directly opposite the first Jeranyi ship. Like the other two, the new arrival was overcrewed, guarded, and not preparing to off-load cargo immediately.

“Have to admit that I can’t ever remember seeing three of those big Jeranyi ships in port at the same time.” Myala turned. “Best that you go and report that to the duty desk, and the captain and undercaptain if they’re in the station. Otherwise, leave a watch report, but make sure that the duty mage gets it to them. Then I’ll meet you at the main pier guards’ station.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Before Myala could add some caustic remark or observation, Rahl was on his way.

He didn’t have to look far for the undercaptain because Craelyt was actually at the duty desk when Rahl hurried inside the station building.

“Ser!”

“What sort of trouble are you about to report, Rahl?”

“We now have three of the large Jeranyi vessels, two on pier two and one on pier three. All have concealed gun ports, and all are carrying excessively large crews, and those crew members look more like soldiers or marines than merchant crew. Also, there doesn’t seem to be any cargo coming aboard or being off-loaded, even for the one that’s been at pier two for over an eightday.”

“Have we had any crew trouble from them?” Craelyt glanced to Nyhart, the duty mage-guard.

“No, ser. None at all.”

Rahl forbore to point out that alone was unusual.

Craelyt shook his head regretfully, “You know they’re trouble, and so do I, but we really can’t do anything so long as they behave themselves, just because they might do something against the Codex.”

“Yes, ser.”

“It’s important you watch closely, though,” Craelyt added. “If they’re going to try anything, now would be the time, with the revolt brewing in Merowey. More than a few of the Emperor’s warships have been dispatched to keep arms and ammunition from being shipped to the rebels. If they can pull off something here, there aren’t enough warships to chase them.” He looked to Rahl. “Just keep a careful watch on them.”

“Yes, ser.” Rahl inclined his head politely, then stepped back, turned, and left the building. With the j: undercaptain’s shields firmly in place, Rahl hadn’t been able to sense anything except what Craelyt wanted to reveal—and that had been mild concern. Rahl was more than mildly concerned, even if he couldn’t have explained why, but he hoped that he’d been able to hold most of those feelings behind his own shields. He also couldn’t see why Craelyt was just mildly concerned when the Jeranyi might be taking advantage of a revolt—especially one started by the Emperor’s brother. That whole situation seemed strange to him. Wasn’t the older brother the one who inherited power? Why was it different in Hamor?

The late-morning sun beat down through a cloudless green-blue sky, and the fall day was beginning to feel more like summer by the time Rahl reached the station where the pier guard and Hegyr were monitoring the traffic entering and leaving the piers. Rahl blotted his forehead and adjusted his visor cap.

“What’s happening?” asked Hegyr from the high and shaded seat, even as he kept his eyes and senses on the wagons and pedestrians moving toward the piers.

“There’s another Jeranyi ship on pier two. Just reported it to the undercaptain. That makes three.”

“It’s not as though we need more trouble. Poor Niasl.”

“He’s on the night watch?” asked Rahl.

“He is.” Hegyr broke off. “You there! Stop that wagon! Now!”

Rahl moved forward, his hand on his truncheon.

“Your rear axle’s cracking,” added Hegyr, “and we’re not about to have broken-down wagons on the piers. Go up to the turnabout and get back here. You try to make the pier, and you won’t have a wagon”

The teamster nodded. “Yes, ser.”

Beneath the man’s impassive exterior, Rahl could sense anger, probably because the fault wasn’t his but belonged to the trader who owned the wagon.

At that moment, Myala arrived. “Did you find them?”

“I reported to the undercaptain and told the duty mage-guard. The undercaptain said to keep a close watch on them.”

“We’ll take a look at pier three first, this time.”

Behind Myala’s back, Hegyr gave the smallest of headshakes and then a sympathetic broad grin. The wide piers were crowded; but as always, everyone stepped back when either of the two mage-guards moved toward them.

At the foot of pier three, Myala turned to Rahl. “You go up the south side, and I’ll take the north. When you get to the end, we’ll meet, and you tell me what you’ve observed.” Then she left Rahl standing there.

He wanted to shake his head at her abruptness. Instead, he took his time, moving along the edge of the pier, trying to sense chaos or trouble. He was halfway out on the wide pier when he saw ahead of him a wagon bearing the familiar‘ emblem of the Nylan Merchant Association, drawn up short and waiting for another wagon to move into position alongside a Spidlarian clipper. Rahl walked over to the teamster seated on the wagon. “I haven’t seen Guylmor recently.”

“He hasn’t been around for almost a year.”

“Why not?”

The teamster shrugged. “He was killed in a loading accident at the warehouse. That’s what they told me.”

Rahl could sense both the truth of the man’s statements—and his unease. “Sorry to hear that. Where are you picking up cargo?”

“The Dawnbreaker… way at the end… if that boar’s ass up there will ever get out of the way, beggin‘ your pardon, ser.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Never really know, not until it’s off-loaded. They give me the declaration, and I give it to Chenaryl. That’s his problem. Usually, from the Jeranyi, it’s something in barrels.” The teamster shrugged.

“Good fortune!” Rahl nodded and moved on.

As he walked away from the teamster and past the clipper toward the Jeranyi vessel, Rahl had a definite feeling that he was being watched, perhaps even by a mage. Guylmor’s “accident” also disturbed him more than a little, though, because it had occurred not that, long after he’d been drugged with nemysa, and there were too many coincidences for his liking. There was also almost no hard proof of anything, and both the captain and undercaptain weren’t that- different from the magisters in being unwilling to take Rahl’s unsupported word about matters.

On fourday, Rahl woke with a feeling of apprehension, yet outside his window, the sky was clear, the air refreshingly dry and cool. At breakfast, Carlyse was even more ebullient than ever.

“Rahl… when are they going to give you your own duties?” She laughed, loudly. “It’s got to be soon, because Myala just glared when I. asked how you were doing, and if she couldn’t find anything to complain about, then there wasn’t much.”

“She was just in a hurry to leave,” Rahl countered. “She’s in a hurry all the time.”

“Can’t be all the time,” interjected Hewart. “She’s got two daughters.”

Both Dalya and Carlyse shook their heads.

Caersyn howled with laughter. “If anyone could hurry that, she could.”

Zachyl, alone at the juniors’ table, looked up wide-eyed.

Rahl still had the feeling it would be some time before . the captain or the undercaptain would let him do much in the way of true mage-guard duties without supervision, and he still rushed through his breakfast.

Orice he was on the piers with Myala that morning, her matter-of-fact attitude and marginal instruction and information seemed to confirm that feeling. Her only truly informative comment did not come-until close to midday on pier one, when she gestured toward a heavyset man wearing a loose and cheap cloak of thin material.

“Cutpurse or thief, if he gets the chance. Thin fellow under the cloak. He may drop the cloak on someone, and like as not, he’ll jump into the water and dodge out to one of the fishing boats. Not a real fishing boat, but it’s hard to tell.”