Ordermaster (17 page)

"He must have had quite a tongue."

   
"He did. He was always too quick for me. So was my brother. Figured it was better for me to listen to orders and have a blade do the talking."

"Are you from Valmurl?"

   
"No. I grew up in Nasloch. About a hundred kays south of Bruel, along the west coast. My brother's still there, still making cabinets."

"Do you ever go back?"

   
"No. My consort's from Valmurl. Her family thinks what I do is honorable. Mine doesn't."

Kharl nodded.

   
"That nod says more than words." Norgen stood. "I need to be getting back." A faint smile appeared on his narrow face. "Anything you can do will be better than what's going to happen otherwise. Good day, ser mage."

Kharl sat for a time at the circular table, sipping the last of his ale.

XVII

Early on fourday, after his breakfast, Kharl walked to the study Hagen used and waited outside in the corridor for the lord-chancellor, who was expected soon.

   
A quarter glass passed without Hagen's appearance, but Kharl continued to wait.

   
After a time, one of the guards-an older man-spoke. "They say the rebels have some wizards."

"They do. From what I know, they still have two left."

"Ah ... are they pretty good, ser?"

   
Kharl caught the unspoken question behind the one asked. "They're white wizards. Black and white are different. White is better for attacking. Black is usually better at defending."

   
"You think that's why they haven't attacked the Great House? Except that one time?"

   
"It might be. I wouldn't wish to guess," Kharl said with a laugh. "That's something the lord-chancellor and Commander Norgen would know better than I would."

   
The guard closed his mouth as Hagen turned the corner at the end of the corridor.

   
Kharl waited until the lord-chancellor was within a few cubits. "Good morning, ser."

"Good morning, ser mage. I take it that you're better?"

"So it would seem. I would like a few moments if you can spare them."

   
"For you, I can always spare a few moments. This morning, those moments may have to be fewer, unfortunately." Hagen opened the study door, leaving it open for Kharl.

The mage closed it after he followed Hagen into the chamber.

   
"I am glad to see that you are recovered." Hagen settled into chair behind the table desk.

"So am I."

   
"What did you have in mind? You're not one for idle talk," Hagen observed.

"Who are the best leaders left among the rebel lords?"

   
"Hensolas is probably better at tactics and strategy, but Fergyn is better at inspiring officers and troops."

"Do you have pictures or likenesses of them?"

"Ser Kharl..." Hagen's voice was even, almost flat.

   
"I've thought about this, lord-chancellor. I've thought about it a great deal. I am not that great a help against large forces." Kharl offered a wry chuckle. "In fact, I've proved to be as great a danger to myself as to them. But there is another way... If the wizards and the rebel leaders cannot survive, neither can the revolt."

   
"What you're suggesting is a great risk for Lord Ghrant, and a greater risk for you."

   
Kharl snorted. "Anything else is a greater risk. I know what I can do, and I know what I cannot. When Ilteron was threatening Lord Ghrant, you told me that if he did not win quickly, then he would lose support throughout Austra. Is not that the situation Lord Ghrant now faces?"

"It's possible," Hagen conceded.

   
"If this revolt is put down without the lives of many more armsmen being taken, whom will that benefit?"

   
"You are sounding more like an advocate than a mage," replied Hagen, his voice containing a testy edge. "Yet you are suggesting government by murder."

   
Kharl forced a laugh. "You murdered a hundred armsmen with cannon on the causeway. I have murdered a score or more through order-magery. What is the difference between one death and another?"

"Lords .. . are not treated that way."

   
"Oh? Then it is good-or acceptable-to kill mere armsmen, who have no choice and who never had much of a say in matters, but it is wrong to kill the leaders who created the problem and have already sent hundreds to their deaths?"

Hagen did not answer.

   
"Will the armsmen serving the rebels be more likely to be supportive of a ruler who butchers them and their mates or one who removes their lead-

ers and demands their allegiance?" Kharl snorted. "More to the point... how long will it take to subdue this rebellion by force of arms? Can it be done?"

"Can what you propose be done?" countered Hagen.

   
"Who knows? But I cannot do more to slaughter large numbers of armsmen. So what do you and Lord Ghrant have to lose by letting me try?"

"We could lose you."

   
"I would personally dislike that a great deal, but if I cannot be useful to you and Lord Ghrant, I do not see a great loss for either of you."

   
"Just... for the purpose of discussion ... how would you propose this... effort?"

   
Kharl laughed. "In the reverse of what is normally done, from what I have seen."

Hagen's brow furrowed.

   
"Most times, it seems to me, a mage or a wizard is used to position the enemy's forces in such a fashion that it allows action by regular lancers and armsmen. On the causeway, I created chaos with the purpose of moving the armsmen into range of your cannon. I propose that you use your forces to decoy Hensolas or Fergyn or their wizards into positions where they are easier for me to reach."

"And ... if you fail?"

   
"You withdraw. Is that not done? You tell no one why the companies are where they are, not even Norgen or Casolan, when he arrives."

"You are suggesting a novel approach, ser Kharl."

"I'm suggesting the only approach I can think of that might work."

"You're suggesting assassinating lords."

"And mages. Why not?"

"What if they return the favor?"

   
"I'll have to go for the wizards first, won't I? That would be better, anyway."

   
"Perhaps we could discuss the matter of lords after your success with the wizards."

   
Kharl leaned back in the chair and looked at Hagen. "You weren't this concerned in Dykaru. What don't I see?"

   
"Every action creates the need for another action," Hagen said dryly. "If you are successful, then assassination will return as an accepted tool for gaining power. In case you have not noticed, Lord Ghrant is not terribly prepossessing. He's barely adequate as a swordsman and less than that

using his hands. He's an easy target for the poorest assassin. Then there's the problem of the example that you'd create. Or create once more. For the first five generations after Austra was unified, not a single ruler died in his bed or peacefully. I'm not terribly interested in returning to that kind of ... chaos."

Kharl waited.

   
"I don't have a problem with your taking on the white wizards. First, they're nothing more than Hamorian spies and tools. Second, any conflicts between them and you will be regarded as battles between equals. Not even Ghrant's worst detractors will gainsay your acts against the wizards, but against lords ..." Hagen shook his head. "Austra will end up in fragments again."

   
Kharl had his doubts-strong doubts-but then, Hagen did know Austra and power better than Kharl-and Kharl had been the one to touch off the rebellion by his unwise use of power.

"I'll see what I can do about the white wizards."

   
Hagen nodded. "Before you do more than that... we should consider what might happen." He stood. "Come back right after midday, and I'll give you the best information we have on where the troops and wizards are."

   
The lord-chancellor wasn't quite saying no, and he could well be right, Kharl reflected, as he stood. "I'll be here."

XVIII

Darely after dawn on sixday, Kharl rode yet another borrowed mount through the damp air of the late-spring morning. This time, the mage wore the green and black of the regular Austran lancers. Given the cloudless day and the stillness of the air, the coolness would doubtless turn into a warm and slightly uncomfortable noon, and a sticky and sultry afternoon. For the moment, Kharl appreciated the cool stillness as he rode beside Undercap-tain Demyst. The soreness in his ribs had subsided enough that he was reminded of their tenderness only when he moved suddenly-or lurched in the saddle.

   
The afternoon before, Kharl and three companies tinder the command of Majer Ghenal had moved to the northeast of the Great House, settling into the estate of one Buvert, a sympathizer of the late Lord Malcor. Buvert's consort had fled, along with the staff and children. Once there, the three companies had begun visible preparations for an attack upon the dockyards, still held by forces commanded by Lord Fergyn. Hagen had told Majer Ghenal that the majer was not to attack under any circumstances, that the maneuver was designed to make sure that Fergyn and Hensolas did not unite their forces-not until Casolan arrived with reinforcements, at least.

   
Kharl and Undercaptain Demyst's two squads were riding due east, conducting a reconnaissance in force. Those were the orders that Hagen had given the undercaptain, along with the observation that, as necessary, Kharl might undertake his own reconnaissance efforts independently at any time.

   
The hoofs of the two squads created a muted thunderlike sound as they struck the heavy planks set in clay that formed the hard surface of the Cross-Stream Pike.

   
"Are there many roads like this?" asked Kharl. He'd heard of timbered pikes, but never run across one.

   
"This used to be a true pike, maybe a hundred years back, and the only way to get to the part of Valmurl north of the dockworks in times of rain." Demyst laughed. "Story is that the shamblers burned Lord Lysaran's stables one night, and the barns an eightday later in protest of the fees. Lord Esthaven stripped Lysaran of his lands and gave him an eightday to leave Austra. Said that anyone who couldn't control rabble didn't deserve lands."

   
"A hard lord, it sounds like. Wasn't Esthaven the one who built the harbor causeway?"

   
"He was hard, but he did much for Austra. He united east and west..."

"I thought that was Isthel-"

   
Demyst shook his head. "Isthel was his grandsire. Isthel conquered the west, but Esthaven was the one who united Austra. He gave the new western lords the same privileges as those in the east and abolished the special tariffs laid on the west. He even set up schools in Bruel and along the west coast."

   
Kharl wondered if he'd ever understand Austra. But then, he hadn't really understood Nordla, and he'd been born and raised in Brysta.

"There! One of their scouts."

   
Kharl glanced ahead, toward the southeast, following the undercap-tain's gesture. A rider in green and black, wearing the blue sash of the rebel forces, galloped southward along a narrow lane that ran between two ragged hedgerows for half a kay, before the ancient hedgerows ended at a welter of ramshackle wooden structures. A handful of people in the middle of the lane scattered just before the lancer bore down on them.

   
"That's Tinkertown," offered the undercaptain. "All the peddlers and tinkers, and the men who offer their backs for a day's work at the dockyards-most of 'em come from there."

"And the land used to belong to Lord Lysaran?" Kharl's tone was dry.

   
"So they say." After a moment, Demyst added, "Scout's riding hard. He'll be turning at the crossroads there, come back onto the pike, and make for the northern corner of the dockworks."

   
Reportedly, Lord Fergyn had made one of the old factor's warehouses, one with living quarters above and behind it, into his temporary headquarters.

"You think they'll move against us today?" asked Kharl.

   
"I don't see how. That's the only scout we've seen. They weren't expecting us to move before Commander Casolan reached Valmurl."

"We might as well keep riding and see how close we can get."