Outcasts of Order

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “Lhadoraak … I know that. I can, and you need them, and I need you three with us.”

  “I can’t let you do that,” protested Lhadoraak.

  “You and Tulya and Taelya need horses. We all are traveling together, and we can travel faster and not be dependent on merchants if we all have mounts. It’s to our advantage as well. Two full mages, and a healer, and two beginning mages are far more likely to avoid trouble than if we split up.”

  “You’ve been planning this, haven’t you?” asked Lhadoraak wryly.

  “Not until the Council started giving us trouble.” Beltur paused, then added, “But I did consider it some even before that. Herrara told me eightdays ago that we really didn’t belong here, and that got me to thinking.” He looked to Tulya. “I understand that anywhere in Montgren is warmer than Axalt.”

  She shook her head. “Did Jessyla tell you to say that?”

  “No. She said you felt that way, and I stole the words from her. She doesn’t mind that when she’s right, especially if I admit something is her idea.”

  “What if it’s wrong?” asked Lhadoraak.

  “That doesn’t happen often, but then,” said Beltur with wry humor, “I say it was my idea.” Most of the time, anyway.

  Tulya laughed softly. “Even without us adding to your problems, you two wouldn’t have lasted much longer here.”

  “Probably not.”

  “I need to check on Taelya and the stew.” Tulya rose and headed for the kitchen.

  Lhadoraak looked at Beltur. “I doubt we can ever repay you.”

  “Friends don’t balance ledgers,” Beltur said gently, “and people who count every silver can’t count on anyone. We’re in this together.” He stood. “We need to bring in some wood.”

  LXXVIII

  By sevenday, despite a light snow on fiveday, the air and sun were warm enough that when Beltur walked to the smithy he could see that the snow piles alongside the roads were shrinking some, although that morning, clear ice had formed at the base of the piles.

  By the time Beltur reached the smithy and had his coat and tunic off, Jorhan had the mold for an ornate platter heated and ready for the melt. Beltur immediately went to work with the bellows, but he hadn’t been working it that long when there was a rap on the door and a man entered—Eshult—so great a surprise that, for a moment, Beltur just stopped pumping.

  “Don’t let me interrupt you,” Eshult said immediately.

  “We won’t,” replied Jorhan, nodding for Beltur to continue with the bellows.

  Later, when the platter had been cast and Beltur stood beside the cooling mold, infusing the metal with the necessary order and chaos, and then holding it in place while the bronze that would become cupridium continued to cool, Eshult cleared his throat and said, “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to make something for me…”

  “What did you have in mind?” asked Jorhan.

  “I’d like a shaving mirror in a stand, along the lines of the one you did for Halhana, except … well … for a man, you understand…” Eshult offered a smile that was part embarrassment, part rue, Beltur thought. “You put rosebuds on hers, I think. I don’t know about thorns … but … I’d likely deserve them.”

  “How about oak leaves and acorns?” suggested Jorhan. “Oaks mean power.”

  “What about crossing that with a pine or spruce branch?”

  Jorhan frowned for a moment, then said, “Suppose I could do that. A bit extra.”

  “Whatever it takes.”

  Beltur understood that Eshult meant every word he spoke.

  “It won’t be inexpensive.”

  “Would ten golds cover the cost?”

  Jorhan smiled. “Not that expensive. Be five or six, depending on how difficult the oak and pine branch design is.”

  “Do I pay you now?”

  Jorhan shook his head. “When you’re satisfied. It’s likely to be a good eightday.”

  “Would you mind if I spent a moment with Beltur?” Eshult asked, looking at Jorhan.

  “No. I need to get some things from the other room for the next mold.”

  Once Jorhan left, Eshult moved closer to Beltur. “You’re still working, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. It takes a certain effort to hold the order/chaos net in place.”

  “For how long?”

  “For this, around a quint. It varies a little with each casting.”

  The trader fingered his chin. “I have been thinking about what you said. I can foresee … certain difficulties … with Uncle Sarstaan. Have you any suggestions that might help?”

  “Be very polite,” replied Beltur. “That’s not what you meant, though. You might try cultivating Herrara, the healer who runs the healing house. Pay her to accompany you to any meetings where Sarstaan has his healer … or she may be able to recommend another healer you can trust.” Beltur paused. “Remember … if you can’t sense truth or falsehood, you need to trust the person who can. Absolutely. You don’t have to like them, just trust them.”

  “It’s too bad you won’t be here.”

  Watching Sarstaan was the last thing Beltur would have wanted to do, but he just nodded and said, “Sometimes, things don’t work out the way we think they will.”

  Eshult nodded. “The last eightdays have shown that.” He hesitated, then said, “Healer Herrara … her discretion…?”

  “I’ve found her to be very discreet, and very honest. Don’t expect flattery. Be honest with her, and she’ll be very helpful. Try to deceive her or mislead her, and she’ll likely be very polite and very deferential, and of minimal assistance.” After a moment, Beltur added, “She probably won’t want to do what you need. That’s because she relies on the Council to pay to keep the healing house going. I do think she could likely find someone who could, though.”

  “You don’t like misleading people, either, do you?”

  “No. Usually the result is worse than not misleading them. It just takes longer for the damage to occur. That’s what I’ve seen, anyway.”

  Eshult stepped back and inclined his head. “I thank you. I’ll be sorry to see you go, but it’s likely for the best. Axalt’s too small for you and Jessyla.”

  And too “traditional.” “As I said, sometimes things don’t quite work out.”

  Eshult nodded once more, then turned and left the smithy.

  In moments, Jorhan returned. “What did he want?”

  “Advice. I did the best I could.”

  “Better’n he got from his parents, I’d wager.” The smith frowned. “About that mirror he wants?”

  “How else can he show Halhana that he values the one his mother tried to remove?” Beltur thought for a moment. “It’s also a statement in cupridium that he values her and her judgment.”

  “Best we do a very good job, then.”

  “Very good,” agreed Beltur. For more than a few reasons.

  When Beltur left the smithy, heading back along the south town road, the clear ice had melted again in most places, and the puddles were larger.

  He was still thinking about the mirror and Eshult when he reached the Mountain Factorage and stepped inside, only to see, near the rear of the front room, Eshult and Ryntaar talking. Both immediately turned, and Ryntaar gestured for Beltur to join them.

  Wondering exactly what the two had been discussing, Beltur offered a pleasant smile and made his way to where they stood.

  “We’ve been talking about horses,” Ryntaar said. “And other things.”

  “I’ve got two I’d like to see have a good owner,” offered Eshult. “I didn’t expect to end up with Father’s horses in addition to my own. Even his stable isn’t big enough for them all. They’re both eight-year-old geldings, good riding horses, and strong. They’d be a gold each, and four silvers for saddles and gear for both. We might be able…”

  “That’s a generous price,” Beltur said, “and, if you’re offering, I’m accepting.”

  Eshult smiled. “I’m offering.”

&n
bsp; “And I’ve located a pack mule that’s a little less stubborn than most,” added Ryntaar. “He’s six silvers, but sturdy. Mortaak says he’s good on rough ground, too.”

  “Why’s he selling?”

  “Same sort of reason Eshult is. His older brother died last fall. Green flux. He’s got too many mules for now, and he needs silvers.”

  “I’ll keep the geldings until you’re ready for them,” said Eshult. “I know Ryntaar’s stable would be cramped.”

  “I appreciate that.” Beltur turned to Ryntaar. “You’d mentioned some traders…”

  “I won’t know about when they plan to leave until twoday, maybe threeday. It might change if there’s a storm. Sometimes, we get one right after the first warm spell.”

  “Most times,” said Eshult.

  Working out the details of when to pay what took another half quint, and it was almost a quint before fifth glass when Beltur walked in the front door of the cot.

  The others were seated around the hearth, but Jessyla immediately stood and walked toward him, asking, not quite tartly, “Where have you been?”

  “Working on a commission that will pay me before we leave Axalt and buying two more horses and a pack mule, as well as saddles. We’re one saddle short, right now.”

  “You have been busy.” The edge to her voice vanished.

  “I have been, and I can tell you had a very long day.”

  “The warm weather loosened the snow, and a logging party got caught in an avalanche. Broken arms, broken legs…” Jessyla shook her head.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Herrara will definitely need you tomorrow.”

  “It sounds that way.”

  “It also sounds like you two need something to eat … and soon,” offered Tulya, rising and heading for the kitchen. “Especially you, Jessyla.”

  “She’s right, you know,” said Beltur.

  “I hate it when you’re right, you know?” Jessyla offered the hint of a smile, then turned and followed Tulya before Beltur could reply.

  And it’s likely better you didn’t, he told himself.

  “Can I offer something toward the horses?” asked Lhadoraak quietly, once the two women were in the kitchen.

  “Just save your silvers. I’m certain we’ll need them later. I don’t know for what, but traveling anywhere takes silvers and more silvers.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m very sure. The horses cost much less than I’d thought they might. Eshult found himself suddenly with far too many horses, and not enough stable space, and he’s likely trying to make amends in a number of ways.”

  “I could see that.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not too proud to let him, since his uncle is one of the reasons we need to leave.” Beltur smiled wryly.

  “Whatever you did, it was for the best.”

  “That remains to be seen. It’s done, for better or worse.” In some ways, all because Jorhan and I made the best mirror we could for Halhana, out of the best intentions, and who could have foreseen what that led to? After a pause, Beltur said, “Whatever Tulya fixed smells wonderful, and I am hungry.” He headed toward the kitchen.

  LXXIX

  Despite the comparative warmth on sevenday, eightday dawned cloudy, and by the time Beltur reached the healing house a heavy wet snow was falling, one that was close to being slushy underfoot, and that combined the worst features of rain and snow, being both cold and wet enough to soak through almost anything.

  After getting the slushy snow off his trousers and boots, he made his way to Herrara’s study. “I need to let you know something.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “I don’t know when, but that’s not what I wanted to let you know.”

  “Is it better or worse?” asked Herrara sardonically.

  “That’s up to you. I’ve had several conversations with Eshult lately—”

  “Even after everything?”

  “He claims I’ve been honest and that I’ve helped him. He believes what he says. I can’t explain it.” Beltur wasn’t about to offer a guess as to why.

  “He’s listening to Halhana at last, then. Go on.”

  “I’d mentioned that his uncle was likely using a healer to attend all public meetings of the Council—”

  “He is?”

  “I already knew that a woman with a strong black presence was at the public meetings I attended, but when I asked Naerkaal later about why Sarstaan had asked so many questions about Sarysta’s death, he revealed that Sarstaan had a healer who worked for him…” Beltur went on to explain his suspicions and what else Naerkaal had said, then said, “After all that, yesterday Eshult came to the smithy to commission a piece. When he finished with that, he drew me aside and asked my advice on dealing with his uncle.” Beltur paused. “I told him that if he couldn’t tell whether Sarstaan was telling the truth he might be able to find a healer who could, and that he should talk to you.”

  Herrara nodded. “I’d wondered why Sarstaan hired Khaerlyna. He and his consort are still in good health, as are their children.”

  “I don’t know if he’ll take my advice, but I didn’t want you to be surprised if he does show up and ask to talk to you.”

  “I appreciate your letting me know.” She paused. “That might cost me yet another healer.”

  “Elisa?”

  “I can’t pay her what Eshult could, not anywhere close.”

  “Can she sense honesty and deception as well as you can?”

  “Not quite as well, but she has the ability, and young Eshult is going to need someone like that for quite a while if he’s going to avoid getting too deeply entangled with his uncle in ways that will not benefit him.”

  “I didn’t anticipate that. I suppose I should have thought about the possibility.”

  “You happen to be both a healer and a mage, Beltur, but you think more like a mage.”

  “I still should have thought about that. It’s not been easy for me to find ways to make silvers, and I know how hard it’s been for Jessyla, but I wasn’t thinking that Eshult or Sarstaan would pay that much more…”

  “You’re still naïve in some ways. People will pay to obtain skills they need, sometimes a great deal if it will make them more golds.”

  Beltur nodded. You should have seen that just from dealing with Jorhan. Except Jorhan was paying for what Beltur considered the honest use of his skills, and Beltur had the feeling that Sarstaan was using what he learned from his healer for less honest ends. Then again, you should have remembered that some traders will do anything to gain an advantage. “I’m still sometimes surprised at the depths to which people will stoop for silvers.”

  “At times, even now, I am, too,” replied Herrara.

  “I hope that you don’t lose Elisa because of me.”

  “I can’t hope that. Not for Elisa’s sake. If she can do better for herself working for Eshult, then she should. She has no family left, and few men, besides mages, will consort a woman who is a healer.” Herrara smiled sadly.

  “You’ve raised her, haven’t you?”

  The healer shook her head. “She came here two years ago when her mother was dying. I could sense she had the ability. So I offered to teach her and gave her a small room and food. It’s only in the last year that I could pay her. That was after Khaerlyna left.”

  Beltur winced, realizing that Herrara would be hard-pressed with Beltur, Jessyla, and possibly Elisa leaving in the next half season or season. “I’m so sorry. I should have realized…”

  “No,” replied Herrara. “If it comes to that, I’ll be happy for Elisa. She’s not had an easy life, and I want the best for her.” She paused. “I can’t say that I haven’t also appreciated all that you and Jessyla have done. I also doubted you’d be able to stay. Now … if you wouldn’t mind checking on patients. Start with the men who were hurt in the avalanche, and then Boissaen…”

  Beltur nodded and walked to the shelves for a basket.

  As he
left the study, he couldn’t help but think about how trying to help one person was likely going to harm another … and all the poor and working folk who needed the healing house. Does it have to be like that?

  Beltur was still mulling things over when he left the healing house just before fourth glass. As he neared the cot, he saw Rohan step out of his house and walk swiftly toward him.

  “Those folks are still there, and tomorrow’s the first day of spring.”

  “You’re right.” Beltur reached for his belt wallet and extracted two silvers, handing them to the landlord. “That’s the rent for the next five eightdays. All of us will be leaving sometime in the next two or three eightdays. You get to keep the two silvers of the deposit as well.”

  “You said they’d be gone.”

  “They will be. So will we.”

  “I said I’d take it to the Council…”

  Beltur looked coldly at Rohan. “You’re getting paid extra. You can take it to the Council if you want, but the Council already knows all of us are leaving, and I doubt the Council will do anything since you’re being paid well for the inconvenience.”

  Rohan opened his mouth and then shut it, then finally said, “No more than three eightdays.”

  “Agreed.” Unless we get buried in northeaster after northeaster. But Beltur would deal with that if and when it happened. He smiled pleasantly. “Enjoy the rest of your eightday.”

  Then he turned and walked to the cot.

  LXXX

  On oneday at the smithy, also the first day of spring by the calendar, if not by the weather, Beltur and Jorhan worked on Eshult’s mirror, casting the base, as well as two of the supports, and Jorhan pronounced himself pleased with how the raised oak leaves and acorns turned out, because the smith had decided that adding a pine branch would have made the embellishments too cluttered.

  Even by the end of twoday at the healing house, Eshult had not appeared or contacted Herrara, and Beltur began to wonder what had happened, or if the young merchant was merely so busy in dealing with his factorage and everything else that he hadn’t had time to think about whether he needed a healer.

  When Beltur set out for the smithy on threeday, the day was the warmest yet since he’d come to Axalt, if still barely above freezing, although most of the slushy snow that had fallen on oneday had melted. The workhouse crews had shoveled trenches in the snow piles beside the road so that the meltwater could flow away from the stone pavement, rather than gather in puddles that would have frozen solid at night.