Mage-Guard of Hamor

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Rahl hadn’t thought about that. “Can you affect the weather?”

  “I’m not that good, not yet, anyway. If the air’s really damp, sometimes I can make it rain, and at times in the mountains, I can make fog. What about you?”

  Rahl shook his head. “I’m just a patrol mage.”

  “You wouldn’t be here if you were just a patrol mage.”

  “I’m just following orders.” Rahl smiled, politely. “I’ll take your advice about the histories…but I do need to get back to reading one of them, or I’ll be in trouble.”

  “I hope I’ll see you around.” Edelya smiled warmly, although the feelings beneath the expression were cooler and more calculating. “Some nights, some of the regular mage-guards go over to the Staff and Blade. It’s just half a kay west.”

  “Thank you. Some of that depends on my duties and when I’m ordered off somewhere else.”

  “It always does. Do you know where?”

  “No, I don’t, and I’ve learned there’s not much point in asking until someone’s ready to tell me.”

  She laughed. “There is that. Good day, Rahl.”

  “Good day, Edelya.”

  Rahl nodded and stepped back, moving back into the library, where he followed her suggestion and exchanged the history he’d been reading for the one bound in brown and black. After reading twenty pages in a fraction of the time it had taken him to read the same amount in the first book, Rahl had to admit that Edelya had been right. Aliazyr’s history was far better—not to mention more readable—than the one he’d been reading before.

  He had read through another forty pages by the time Taryl arrived and motioned for him to leave the library. He also noted the veiled surprise from the two older mage-guards—both ordermages—who were reading.

  Taryl did not speak until they were out in the corridor beyond the library foyer. “We’ll be here for several more days, if not longer, while Marshal Byrna gathers his forces. We will be going to the High Command for a briefing tomorrow afternoon. I was invited, but you’re coming as well.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  “How was your day?”

  “I sparred with Khedren and learned some of the techniques. He said I was better than tolerable with the staff and truncheon, and he had some of the older mage-clerks go against me. He said I’d be doing him a favor if I disarmed them quickly without damaging them permanently.”

  “I assume you did.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  “Good. Did anything else of interest happen?” Taryl raised his eyebrows.

  “Just what you warned me about. A pretty mage-guard named Edelya approached me. We talked for a while, but I did my best to play dumb and dutiful.”

  “You probably did well with dutiful, but I doubt you deceived her about your intelligence. You can’t play dumb well, Rahl.” Taryl turned. “We have some time. I’m going to try another set of exercises on you, and then we’ll visit the stables. This way.” He walked from the foyer back along the corridor to a narrow door.

  When Taryl opened the door, Rahl saw an equally narrow staircase leading downward to a landing, then doubling back.

  “Close the door behind you.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  There were no lamps in the corridor below—roughly half the width of the main-floor hallway—but it was still dimly lit with faint greenish lights set in the ceiling at regular intervals. Rahl glanced up at the nearest, slowing and trying to make out where the light came from that emerged from the hexagonal glass faces. He’d seen them before…

  Taryl stopped and looked over his shoulder. “It’s an elongated prism set in the corridor floor above. It catches the light and diffuses it down here. That’s enough for most mages, and that means we don’t have to worry about lamps and lamp oil. They use them on ships, too. Come on.”

  The concept was simple enough, Rahl realized, and he should have realized that the green hexagons in the floor above were for more than decoration. Still, he didn’t recall seeing anything like them being used anywhere else.

  Taryl stopped before a closed door and turned to Rahl. “I want you to wait outside in the corridor until I call you. Then I want you to close your eyes, and use your order-senses to enter. You won’t be attacked. This is something else.” The senior mage-guard’s voice was dry.

  Rahl waited, then closed his eyes and pressed the door lever after he heard his name.

  “Close the door firmly. Then you can open your eyes.”

  When Rahl opened his eyes, he could see nothing. The room was pitch-black. Not more of Taryl’s exercises in the dark!

  “There’s a table in front of you,” Taryl said. “Pick up the block on it that feels most orderly. Don’t feel around for it. Pick it up on a single attempt.”

  Rahl could sense Taryl standing behind the table.

  “Go ahead. Don’t waste time.”

  Rahl concentrated, but each of the three blocks felt so small that he had a hard time determining which had the most order. Finally, he picked the one farthest from him. It was iron, but tiny enough that two of them could have rested on his thumbnail.

  “Now, without letting any of the blocks touch, take the one you have and set it as close as you can to the one with the least order.”

  Rahl managed that, although he actually set it slightly farther away, then nudged it nearer to the least orderly block.

  “Line them up as close as possible, with the least orderly to your right and the most orderly to your left…”

  The exercises went on for a time before Taryl said, “Now, use your order-senses to make a triangle of the blocks with the most orderly at the point facing me. Don’t move them with your hands, and don’t let them touch.”

  Rahl was sweating by the time he moved the tiny blocks without using his hands, but he did manage the task.

  Taryl set another block on the table. “Make a square with all four.”

  That seemed easier.

  Two more tiny blocks went onto the table.

  “A hexagon, now.”

  Even with six blocks, Rahl arranged them more easily than he had at first with only three.

  “Just stand there and relax for a moment while I set up the next exercise. Don’t ask any questions.”

  Rahl took a slow deep breath in the darkness and blotted his forehead with the back of his hand. He couldn’t help wondering what was in the bucket Taryl lifted and tilted. Something poured out with a rustling sound. Sand?

  Taryl lifted another bucket, but this time Rahl could sense that it held water. The second bucket was only partly full, and Taryl set it on the table.

  “Use just enough water to moisten the sand. I want you to make a small square wall with the wet sand. Use your hands and fingers for the first side.”

  Rahl had an idea what was coming, but he separated the sand into two piles, moistening one, and saving the other in case he used too much water inadvertently. When it felt damp enough to hold together, he formed a crude wall the length of his hand.

  “Support the inside of the next wall with order, but use your fingers on the outside…”

  When Rahl finished following Taryl’s instructions—completing the last wall strictly with order—he was not only sweating again, but his shoulders ached.

  “Now…” continued Taryl. “I assume you’ve seen what happens when sand castles dry in the sun.”

  “Yes, ser. They hold their shape in a way, but if there’s any wind…”

  “Good. I want you to use order to move the water, just the water, out of the sand in the walls you built on the table. Don’t ask why or how. You can do it. Just do it.”

  Rahl didn’t even know where to start, but he thought of the water as if it were made of little tiny boxes, and he concentrated on moving it a “box” at a time. Surprisingly, to him, it seemed to work, but it was a tedious process. Finally, he straightened. “I think…I think I did it.”

  “Good.” Taryl sounded pleased, for the first time. “That’s all you shou
ld do here today.”

  Rahl had to agree. He felt as though he’d walked kays and kays carrying half a score of his father’s heaviest tomes.

  Taryl walked around the table past Rahl and opened the door. “We’re not done.”

  Rahl didn’t ask who would clean up the mess, but turned to follow Taryl.

  At the door, Taryl extended his hand. “Here are the blocks. You’ll need to practice every night for a while.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  “Do you understand what you’ve done?” Taryl asked as he walked toward the narrow staircase.

  “I’ve used order to move things around.”

  “Exactly. You know how, now, but you’ll have to practice to gain strength. Not many mage-guards can do what you just did. Do you know what was important about the water and the sand?”

  “Besides moving it? No, ser.”

  “You proved you can sense and handle water. That means you have some ability with the weather.”

  Rahl frowned. What did water have to do with weather?

  Taryl stopped. “I can see that we’ll have to work on certain parts of your education. For the moment, I’ll just say that all weather is created by just two things—the heat and light of the sun and the water in the oceans and the air. You’ve seen a kettle boil, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, ser.”

  “Well, that’s what the sun does to the ocean except it’s slower, and we can’t see it. If you put a piece of cold, cold iron over a kettle spout, do you know what happens?”

  “Water appears.”

  “That’s what happens when warm air from the oceans meets the high mountain peaks or cold air coming from somewhere else. That’s the basis of weather.”

  “I could be a weather mage?” Like Creslin?

  “I don’t know, but you certainly should be able to learn to read the weather.”

  Taryl hurried up the steps, and Rahl had to scramble to follow him, but Taryl said nothing more until they were outside the building and headed toward the stables. Then he glanced toward Rahl. “What about the healer in Nylan? Are you still interested in her?”

  “I was thinking about writing a letter, but I didn’t think posting it here…”

  Taryl nodded. “You’re already understanding. Don’t post it here, not if you don’t want everyone to know what’s in it. Oh, no one will open it, but some of the chaos types have skills that can reproduce the writing without breaking the seal, and as my assistant, those beholden to Cyphryt, or some others, will certainly wish to know your thoughts. You can post it somewhere on the way when we leave here. That would be best.”

  “I’d wondered.”

  “You won’t return to Recluce, you know?”

  Rahl looked hard at Taryl.

  “I didn’t say you wouldn’t be able to,” replied the older mage. “I said you wouldn’t, and you know that as well as I do. It’s too small for you already.”

  “She said that, too.”

  “Your healer?”

  “She’s not mine.”

  “But you wish she were.”

  Rahl thought for a moment. “Not in that way. I can’t ask her to join me here.” He laughed, ironically. “I don’t even know that she could.”

  “Like mages, healers are always welcome, and while the mage-guards sponsor them, they don’t have to become mage-guards.”

  “If I wrote her that…that would be a request.”

  Taryl nodded. “It would be. Especially now, but don’t hesitate to let her know how you feel.”

  Rahl caught a sense of what almost felt like regret from Taryl, but he didn’t wish to pry. “I’ll have a letter ready for when we leave and can post it.”

  “That would be best.”

  Neither spoke as they neared the stables. Then, as they passed through the open doors, the older mage-guard nodded to the ostler who stepped forward. “We aren’t riding. Rahl just needs to get more familiar with the horses.”

  The woman nodded and stepped back. “You might try the big chestnut gelding in the corner. That stall makes it easy to get to the manger. He likes almost everyone.”

  “Thank you.” Taryl smiled, turning toward the southeast corner of the stables.

  Even before they reached the farthest stall, the chestnut was turning his head, trying to greet them. Taryl moved along the wooden side of the stall. “You like company, don’t you? In a moment, you’ll get a treat. Yes, you will.” He looked to Rahl. “I want you to try to sense what the horses feel. It will help you with riding, and I have the feeling that we’ll be riding more than a little in the seasons ahead.” Taryl produced a pearapple and a small knife. He cut a slice off the pearapple, most carefully, then handed it to Rahl.

  “Offer it to him on the flat of your palm. You’re less likely to get nipped that way. Don’t force any feelings. Just leave your order-senses open.”

  Rahl stepped forward, pearapple ready.

  The chestnut’s muzzle was soft, and he lifted the slice of pearapple almost delicately.

  Rahl thought he could sense…something.

  “Wait a moment before you give him another.” Taryl handed another slice to Rahl. Rahl held it in the hand away from the chestnut.

  The gelding tossed his head, then nuzzled Rahl’s empty hand.

  Rahl smiled. He could definitely sense something akin to impatience.

  IX

  Even before breakfast on twoday, Rahl practiced with the small iron blocks. He also put small droplets of water on top of the blocks and tried to move the droplets. That was harder, but he managed. Was it because water embodied more order than moving water that was dispersed, as in the sand, was easier? He didn’t know and wished that he now had a copy of The Basis of Order. At that thought, he laughed.

  When Rahl walked into the mess for breakfast, he saw Edelya sitting at the women’s table next to Saulya and another older mage-guard. He nodded politely to all three and took a seat beside Laryn and across from another mage-guard he hadn’t met.

  “Rahl, this is Rhyett. He’s the assistant to Triad Fieryn.”

  Rhyett grimaced. “I’m really the assistant to Kielora, and she’s the principal assistant to the Triad.”

  Rahl sensed the whitish aura of chaos around Rhyett. “That means you do everything that no one else wants to do?”

  “That’s absolutely right.”

  “What sorts of things?”

  “I get to read all the routine dispatches and reports and sort them. I work with Laryn here to prepare the draft reports on past and projected expenditures—we have to track what the stations and regions are spending, and compare them. That way, we can see if anything’s out of line…”

  Rahl half listened to Rhyett, but he was also aware of a conversation at the juniors’ table that had begun after two of the juniors had glanced at Rahl, then looked away. Rahl extended his order-senses.

  “…he’s the one. Not a senior…”

  “…claims he is…or might as well be one…”

  “…too young…”

  Rahl just smiled. Let them wonder.

  “…and on top of all that,” Rhyett went on, “as if it weren’t enough, I’m supposed to keep in touch with Director Cyphryt’s assistants…” His words died away as his eyes flicked toward the women’s side of the mess.

  “Saulya?” asked Rahl quietly.

  “She’s one of them. At least, she smiles when she wants something, and she’s good to look at. Vladyrt…” Rhyett just shook his head.

  Much as he almost instinctively liked Rhyett, Rahl understood exactly why he was an assistant to an assistant. There was such a thing as being too open, especially in a place like Cigoerne. He wanted to snort. Much as Recluce supposedly valued honesty, even in Nylan few of the magisters wanted to hear the truth if it conflicted with what they wanted to believe.

  “He thinks he’s as important as Cyphryt?” Rahl asked with a smile.

  “He’s not quite that deluded, but he thinks that the director couldn’t do anything
without his help,” Rhyett replied.

  “We’d all like to believe that,” said Laryn. “Why, I could claim that nothing would happen here because no one would get fed.”

  “I can’t even claim that,” Rahl said, taking a helping of sausage and egg toast.

  “Someone said you were an assistant envoy to Recluce,” Laryn said. “That’s not exactly nothing.”

  Rahl shrugged helplessly. “I’m just a mage-guard who does what he’s told and goes where he’s ordered.” And happy to be that, considering what could have happened. He took a swallow of the pale lager that was becoming a morning staple for him.

  Laryn and Rhyett exchanged glances.

  Then Laryn laughed and said,

  “A man who claims nothing of naught

  has never for blind honor fought.”

  The words were clearly a quote from someone, but Rahl didn’t recognize them. He thought he agreed with the sentiment if he had heard it correctly. More important, he decided Taryl should know about the rumors, since Rahl himself had told no one. In the meantime, he tried the egg toast and berry syrup.

  After breakfast, Rahl and Taryl walked toward the coach waiting for them outside the entrance to the quarters’ wing.

  “I’m sorry if I haven’t kept you more informed,” Taryl said, “but we’ll have time to talk on the drive to High Command. It’s a good six kays from here, even by the ring road.” He gestured for Rahl to enter the coach. “I like sitting on this side.”

  Rahl settled himself and waited until they were moving before speaking again. “Someone has been spreading the word that I was an assistant envoy to Recluce.”

  “You were,” Taryl replied amiably.

  “But I’ve never told anyone. You told the mage-guard at the river docks, but I don’t think he’d be telling people here.”

  Taryl laughed. “As soon as Cyphryt saw you with me, I’m certain he checked on your assignment—if he didn’t already know, which was more likely. He doubtless told his assistants, and they told others…”

  “But…I wouldn’t ever have been made that, except—”