Then there was Deybri. What could he really do except talk to her? He had no future in Recluce, at least not anytime soon, and she was years older. Yet…he shook his head. He could only see her…if she’d even agree to that.
Early on fiveday morning, a long, dark shape appeared on the horizon, and shortly thereafter Captain Jaracyn ordered the envoy ensign to the top of the mast—an oblong white flag bordered in green.
By midday, the southern end of Recluce was clearly visible dead ahead, but Rahl was more concerned about what he sensed approaching. Aft on the starboard side of the Ascadya and a good kay to the east, Rahl could sense a concentration of order, a blackness that he could not see with his eyes.
At that moment, Taryl climbed the ladder to the starboard wing of the bridge, joining Rahl and nodding to the junior mage-guard. “You can sense we have company?”
“Yes, ser. It must be one of the black ships.”
Taryl nodded. “I’d judge so.”
For a time, they both were silent, but Rahl could not help but keep trying to see the Recluce vessel, even as it quickly drew nearer, despite the speed of the Hamorian frigate.
“It’s faster than I’d realized,” admitted Taryl. “It’s a good thing we’re here, although they wouldn’t have as much of an advantage as they’d think.”
“Ser?”
The older mage gestured in the direction of the unseen vessel. “The closer they get, the easier it is to calculate where they are. Look aft. You can see the wake. They’ve probably got their screws set deeply to minimize it, but if they get close enough, a good gunner could calculate where they are. They’re most dangerous at dusk and at night, when you can’t see the wake clearly.”
That might be, reflected Rahl, but as he watched the wake of the unseen vessel, roughly abeam the Ascadya, he could sense it abruptly increasing its speed and pulling away from the Hamorian frigate. Before its wake vanished, Rahl could see that it was headed toward the southernmost tip of Recluce and the black city and port of Nylan.
“It’s fast, though, much faster than anything we have,” Taryl added.
“Are we running at top speed?” Rahl refrained from mentioning Khalyt, the young engineer he had met briefly in Nylan, and his ideas for developing an even faster warship.
“No. That wastes too much coal, but even at flank speed, we couldn’t match them. Still, they don’t have anywhere near the numbers of vessels we do, I don’t believe.” With a laugh, Taryl added, “They don’t need as many, either.”
By the time the Ascadya neared the entrance to Nylan, a pilot boat was waiting, accompanied by one of the black ships—without a sight shield. It might have been the same one that had earlier scouted the Hamorian frigate, but Rahl had no way of telling. It also had turrets fore and aft, but they were lower, and the twin guns shorter, with an iron tube mounted in the center of the turret above the guns.
Captain Jaracyn slowed the frigate to mere headway as the pilot boat came alongside.
With Taryl beside him, Rahl listened as the pilot used a conical tube to amplify his voice. For a moment, Rahl didn’t understand a word, before he realized that the pilot and the captain were speaking Low Temple and not Hamorian.
“…diplomatic mission to the magisters and engineers of Nylan…” replied the captain.
“…welcome…you’ll be berthed at the first set of piers on the north side of the harbor…the pier will have a berthing flag on the end—green square on white…deeper water there…would you like a pilot?”
“No…that’s a negative.”
“We’ll lead you in…”
“Thank you…we’ll need as much headway as we’re now making.”
“You’ll have it, Captain.”
Within moments, the pilot boat pulled away, and the frigate followed, picking up slightly more speed as they followed the boat toward the main channel into the harbor.
“The piers where they’re berthing us are the ones where the black ships are docked.” Rahl pointed to the northwest end of the harbor.
“That makes sense. They want to keep an eye on us, and have the ability to make sure we behave ourselves.” Taryl offered a half smile. “They shouldn’t know what happened in Swartheld yet, anyway. That was one reason why the captain pushed it. The Emperor wanted us to deliver the news before anyone else, but that also means that the magisters will be skeptical of our appearance under a parley banner.”
Rahl glanced northward, at the black-stone buildings and dwellings rising from the harbor onto the long, sloping hill. He thought he could see the training center and the small park below it. In the distance, he could make out a faint dark line. “You can see the black wall. It runs across the entire isle.”
“Is it as great as they claim?” asked Taryl.
“All the stones are the same size, at least in the parts of the wall I’ve seen, and it’s order-protected for its entire length.” Rahl did not wish to mention his own difficulties with the wall, those that had been the final element in assuring his exile. “It is impressive.”
As the Ascadya neared the piers, Rahl noted that there was no sight shield in place and that the four long piers were totally empty. “They’ve moved out all the black ships.”
“Or the one that scouted us was the only one here,” replied Taryl. “That’s more likely. They don’t have that many of them.”
Rahl had to wonder how Taryl knew that when he didn’t, and when he hadn’t even been able to see how many of the black ships had been berthed in Nylan in the whole time he’d been in the city.
“There are ways,” Taryl answered the unspoken question. “The sea marshals analyze all reports of the sightings of the black ships. Even if they can’t identify them, or know for certain, it’s a pretty fair wager that a wake from an unseen high-speed vessel is from a Recluce black ship, and most of the time when they’re at sea, they don’t hold the sight shields except when they’re close to Hamorian warships or pirate vessels. It’s too hard on the mages, and they can’t have that many.”
“Doesn’t Recluce have more black mages than many lands?”
“That’s true. There were far more mages among those who founded the isle, but even so, Hamor is more than a thousand times the size of Recluce and doubtless has hundreds of times the number of people, even with the great eastern desert and the high grasslands.” Taryl smiled faintly. “And Hamor does not exile any of its mages. We find uses for almost all of them, including those from Recluce and elsewhere, as you know.”
Rahl had to admire the way in which Captain Jaracyn eased the frigate into the pier—a black-stone structure far narrower than those in Swartheld—perhaps a mere fifty cubits in width.
“Lines out!”
The line handlers on the pier wore dark gray uniforms, Rahl noted, and all were dressed the same. Unlike the Hamorian crews and dockworkers, though, several were women.
“Double up!”
Only after the frigate was secured to the heavy bollards, and the fenders were all in place, did the captain order the gangway lowered. By then, it was late afternoon, and the sun was not that high over the Gulf of Candar to the west of Nylan.
Almost immediately, a thin man in the same dark gray as the line handlers appeared on the pier, walking down it toward the Ascadya.
Rahl followed the captain and Taryl down from the bridge to the quarterdeck, standing behind them as they waited.
The lanky figure who walked up the gangway also wore silver insignia on his collars and a visored cap with a silver emblem of a trident crossed with a cannon—clearly an officer. “Permission to come aboard?”
“Granted,” replied Jaracyn in accented but correct Low Temple. “You’re more than welcome. Jaracyn, captain and commanding.”
“Senior Captain Haerylt.”
“Senior Captain,” Taryl said politely in precise Low Temple. “I am Senior Mage-Guard Taryl, assigned as envoy to the magisters of Nylan, and this is Mage-Guard Rahl, assigned as assistant envoy.”
“It has been some time
since a Hamorian warship has sought port here on a peaceful mission,” observed Haerylt. “I assume that with the parley ensign your mission is peaceful.”
“We are here to convey information to the magisters that we sincerely hope will assure continued peace between Recluce and Hamor,” replied Taryl. “Past hostilities have proved costly to both lands, but there have been some recent events in Swartheld that suggest others would pit us against each other, and the Emperor would like to make certain that the magisters of Nylan understand the background of such events.”
Haerylt frowned.
“As far as we are concerned, Senior Captain,” Taryl went on, “you are more than welcome to be present when we meet with the magisters. We have no secrets, but, obviously, we would prefer to inform all those concerned at one time.”
The senior captain’s frown became a scowl. “You are suggesting…less than welcome news.”
“I can assure you that no vessels of Recluce have been involved, nor are there any hostilities that have taken place, but we wish to inform the magisters of certain events involving Jeranyi pirates and their attempts to attack the merchanting sector of Swartheld.”
Haerylt’s scowl was replaced with an expression half frown and half puzzlement.
“I trust that you can convey our request,” Taryl said politely. “We would not have traveled the breadth of the Eastern Ocean if the Emperor did not believe that the magisters of Nylan should be informed of these events as soon as possible.”
“I can convey your request, Envoy, but I cannot make any commitments for the magisters. In the meantime, we welcome you here, and we will be more than happy to provide water and arrange for any coal or provisions you may require—at the same rates as those for our vessels.”
“Thank you.”
“If there’s anything else you need, you can check with the piermaster. He’s in the study in the building at the end of the pier.” Haerylt frowned again. “You and your men have the freedom of our base here, but I’d like to request that they remain within the gates until we’ve conveyed your request to the magisters and received their instructions.”
“We understand,” Taryl said politely. “I trust that will not be long.”
“I imagine they already know you have ported here,” Haerylt said dryly, “and I will be conveying your request as soon as I leave.”
“We appreciate your courtesy,” replied Taryl, “and we look forward to their response. Thank you.” He inclined his head slightly.
Haerylt did as well, then turned and walked down the gangway.
Jaracyn glanced to Taryl. So did Rahl.
“We have them concerned,” observed Taryl, using Hamorian once more. “That’s always useful. Let’s hope that will be enough to get them to grant us an immediate audience or hearing.”
“The senior captain would just as soon have us gone,” added the captain. “He might press for an early meeting.”
“It’s more likely to be a hearing or a meeting with the magisters, I’d guess,” said Rahl, “but I don’t know. I only met with the magisters for the training center, and I don’t know if those are the same magisters, or if others are in charge of the city.”
“How soon will the magisters in Land’s End find out about our arrival?” asked Taryl.
“I don’t see how they could find out before next threeday at the earliest, and I doubt that the magisters here will press a messenger that hard.”
“That soon?” asked Jaracyn.
“The high road from Nylan to Land’s End is said to be one of the best in the world,” Taryl said. “The Great Highway being built from Cigoerne to Atla is based on its design.”
Jaracyn nodded, but Rahl could tell that the captain was skeptical.
Rahl just wondered what the magisters would do.
III
After an early breakfast in the mess on the Ascadya, Taryl and Rahl stood on the pier side of the bridge. Taryl handed Rahl a small square of iron. “Study it as you can with your order-senses.”
Rahl did so, but so far as he could tell, there was nothing unusual about the iron.
Then the older mage handed him a second piece. “This one. What is the difference?”
With one in each hand, Rahl could immediately sense a difference, if not exactly what it might be. The second one was the slightest bit heavier, but that wasn’t all. He tried to probe it. “It’s a bit heavier and more resistant to probing.”
Taryl offered a third and far more irregular square, one clearly blacker than the other two.
“This has to be black iron,” Rahl replied. “It’s resistant to order-sensing, and it’s much harder.”
“It’s also more resilient to force and impact.” Taryl paused, then asked, “What about the first two?”
“They’re iron of some sort, but I’m not a smith or engineer.”
“The first is a good steel; the second is iron ordered by pattern welding or forging.”
“The second is stronger,” observed Rahl.
“It is. It came from a broken blade. The last square came from Candar, although it was created in Recluce generations ago.”
“Is Recluce the only place that forges black iron?”
“It is, but not because it could not be done elsewhere.” Taryl smiled faintly, as if offering an unspoken question.
Rahl pondered for several moments. “Is that because Hamor needs too much iron and has too few mages to devote to it?”
“Partly. It’s also because most uses of iron don’t require the strength of black iron, and you can’t cut or rework black iron without a mage. Hamor has engineers also, and they’ve been able to create an iron alloy that’s stronger than most, without requiring magery.”
“What about Fairhaven? Do they avoid black iron?”
“In Fairhaven, but their warships are iron-hulled as well.” Taryl looked up and then out at the pier. “I believe someone is coming in response to our request.”
Rahl turned. A silver-haired magister was striding toward the gangway. Rahl recognized him. “It’s Tamryn. He was one of the magisters at the training center, and one of those who sentenced me to exile.”
“Good.”
Rahl wasn’t so sure about that.
Taryl headed down the ladder to the quarterdeck, and Rahl followed.
Tamryn came to a halt short of the quarterdeck. “Permission to come aboard?”
“You’re most welcome, Magister Tamryn,” replied Taryl.
Rahl could sense Tamryn’s surprise, but the silver-haired mage merely said, “Thank you.”
Taryl gestured, and the three moved onto the main deck forward of the quarterdeck and outboard of the turret.
As Rahl studied both Tamryn and Taryl, he could see that within Taryl was far more power than within Tamryn, of a depth that Rahl could not have described exactly.
“I presume that you are here in response to our request to address the magisters of Nylan,” Taryl prompted.
“That I am.” Tamryn’s eyes drifted to Rahl momentarily before he continued. “The magisters will receive you at the training center at the second glass past noon.” Tamryn’s eyes strayed to Rahl once more. “They will hear whatever you wish to convey from the Emperor. They asked me to inform you, however, that they can only represent the black city, and that anything involving more than that upon Recluce must be brought before the magisters in Land’s End.”
“That is understood,” replied Taryl. “What information we bring is concerned with Nylan.” The ordermage emphasized the word we ever so slightly.
The silver-haired Tamryn inclined his head to Taryl. “As an envoy of the Emperor and as an ordermage, you are welcome in Nylan for the duration of your visit, and the city is open to you.” His eyes traveled to Rahl. “Rahl, however…”
Rahl could feel himself stiffening, and he tried to relax. Even before Taryl or he could explain, Tamryn was jumping to conclusions, just like the magisters always had. No wonder he’d gotten so angry at them so often.
> Taryl cleared his throat gently. “Rahl is not here for pleasure. Nor is he seeking a revocation of his exile at this time. He would not be here were his presence not absolutely necessary, as affirmed by the Emperor. You can see that he harbors no chaos, and he is my aide. It would be to your benefit, and admittedly to Rahl’s, that he be allowed the same access as you have granted me. As a mage-guard, he will remain in uniform, and thus there should be no misapprehensions that the intent of the orders of the magisters is being disregarded.” The older ordermage smiled politely.
“I suppose, under those conditions…but we would ask that Rahl refrain from any active order-magery.”
Rahl inclined his head. “Except in self-defense or as requested by Taryl or the magisters.”
The hint of a sour expression crossed Tamryn’s face. “That would be acceptable.”
“What about the crew?” asked Taryl.
“With the exception of any chaos-mages—”
“There are none aboard,” replied Taryl. “We understand those limitations.”
“…we would suggest that they remain close to the harbor area, but they can travel where they will within the black wall.”
Taryl nodded.
Tamryn did not quite look at Rahl before he continued. “Either I or another black mage will be here for you both with a wagon at one glass past midday.” He inclined his head to Taryl. “Good day, Senior Mage-Guard, and welcome to Nylan.” He did not ever look directly at Rahl.
“Thank you.”
Rahl merely nodded. Tamryn’s presence had rekindled his anger at the close-mindedness and arrogance of the magisters, particularly the rage against Puvort, whose deception and smugness had triggered all the events that had led to Rahl’s exile.
Once Tamryn was on the pier and headed toward the trap he had driven down, Taryl looked to Rahl with an amused smile. “He wasn’t exactly pleased with you.”
“No. I was a problem for them, especially after I exploded a section of the black wall by accident.” He paused. “I’m not exactly pleased with them, either.”
“That was obvious.” The older mage looked hard at Rahl. “How did you do that to the wall?”
Mage-Guard of Hamor Page 2
