Mage-Guard of Hamor

X

After a quiet evening meal, Rahl retired to his chamber, reflecting upon the day, and what had happened. Although Edelya had mentioned the Staff and Blade, as had Laryn, Rahl didn't feel like pretending to enjoy socializing while being on guard all the time. During the briefing at the High Command, Taryl had behaved almost as if he were the marshal's superior, and he had gone to great lengths to force the military officers to accept Rahl himself as their equal. Then, Taryl had made the statement about their going to the Palace on the next day, as if it were more like a stroll across the rear courtyard to the stables.

Rahl also realized that there was much more he did not understand. How could an entire administrative district larger than Recluce-or many countries in Candar-stage a revolt without anyone knowing it was about to happen? He shook his head. Obviously, people had known, but whoever had known had kept the news from reaching Mage-Guard Headquarters, the High Command, or the Emperor-or delayed it until the rebellion was in progress. That suggested to Rahl that at least some very talented mage-guards had to have been involved, perhaps even some in Mage-Guard Headquarters, and that Taryl thought so as well, although the angular former Triad had said nothing about that. Still, that was only a guess on Rahl's part. He certainly had no knowledge or even any hints of such.

There was little enough he could do about any of that at the moment, only watch and learn, and try not to reveal anything.

Slowly, he sat down at the small writing desk and took out several sheets of paper and the small portable inkwell and a copper-tipped iron pen. What could he say? How much should he put to paper?

He used several sheets of paper-and burned the discarded sheets in the small brazier that he suspected had been placed in the chamber for the use of chaos-type mage-guards-before he finally had a letter that satisfied him. He'd also had to light the lamp over the desk because composing it had taken so long. While he could certainly detect objects in the dark, so far his skills did not let him read in darkness.

Finally, he read it silently, and carefully.

My dear healer, I am now in Cigoerne. It might well be called another white city, with its white-stone walls and red-tile roofs. Even the streets are paved in a light-colored stone like a white granite. Many of the buildings are of two and three stories, and all that I have seen are well kept. When the sun reflects off the stone and roofs, there is a warmth to the light. There is also a warmth to the days and nights because Hamor is considerably hotter than Recluce.

At the moment, I am staying in a comfortable room in the Mage-Guard Headquarters on the west side of the city. I was most surprised to discover that there are many order-mages here, and many of them would fit in Nylan-if the magisters did not know from where they hailed. I've also been reading a history of the mage-guards. They date back to the first emperors. I am continuing to learn, thanks in great measure to the teaching techniques of Senior Mage-Guard Taryl. While you did not meet him, he was the envoy I accompanied to Recluce, and he is the one who reclaimed me from the ironworks at Luba and enabled me to become a mage-guard.

From what I have seen so far, Cigoerne is almost as neat and clean as Nylan, if far larger, and everyone appears well behaved and orderly. There are also similarities in the way in which senior mage-guards relate to each other and the way in which magisters relate to each other, although the mage-guards place a great emphasis on the development and application of practical skills by all mage-guards and not just upon those who fit a given mold.

In the days to come, I will be leaving Cigoerne on my next duty, and I will write as I can. I cannot help but think of you, and dream of you, no matter how far apart we are. I know it may be some time before I will have any opportunity or time to return to Nylan, and I know how and what you feel about Hamor. For all that, the past that I found in Nylan does have a hold on me, and it always will. You are usually better at seeing such than I, but in that one particular, you were mistaken. That past-and you-hold me fast.

This time, he did close the letter more affectionately, with the words, "All my love," above his signature.

Now that he had written the letter, he would have to keep it with him at all times until he found a safe place from which to post it. He couldn't help but think about the ironies of life. When it had been perfectly safe to write Deybri, he hadn't often had the coins. Now that he had the coins, he had to worry about where and when he posted the letter.

He folded the letter and slipped it into the envelope, which he addressed to her in Nylan, then sealed.

After that, he disrobed and climbed into his bed. As he lay there, his eyes not looking anywhere, he kept thinking about Deybri and her gold-flecked brown eyes, the soft waves of her brown hair, and the warmth that radiated from her.

Finally, he got up and extracted the tiny iron cubes from his belt wallet. Then he sat down in the darkness before the writing table and set the cubes on the polished ancient golden oak. He closed his eyes and reached for the cubes with his order-senses.

If nothing else, he could practice improving his order-skills until he was exhausted enough to sleep.