Mage-Guard of Hamor

XXIX

On the return, Rahl and his patrol discovered no more signs of rebels or outlaws or much of anything except isolated and wary steadholders and foresters. By the time they returned to Troinsta in the fading light of threeday, and Rahl had officially returned the squads to Quelsyn's direction, his inner thighs were sore and raw once more.

Drakeyt appeared in the stable as Rahl was grooming the gelding.

"Quelsyn said you found three rebels." The captain's voice was calm.

Underneath the pleasant tones, Rahl could sense a great deal of concern. "We did. They killed one, and I captured two. They were part of the force sent with the cannon to attack the supply convoys. I don't think they understood that they weren't expected to return. It's clear that the idea was to slow things down and make the marshal cautious. That would allow them more time before our forces attack."

"Quelsyn said that you disarmed one man with your truncheon and broke the other's shoulder."

"He wouldn't surrender and was trying to hamstring the mounts."

"He also said you could sense where they were from almost a kay away."

Rahl shook his head. "I could sense that someone was there from that distance. It was less than half a kay before I was absolutely certain."

"He also said that you just looked hard at them, and they began to talk."

Rahl shrugged tiredly. "I let them know that I could tell when they were lying. Most ordermages can."

"Are you trying to get a field command?"

For a moment, Rahl just looked blankly at Drakeyt. Then he laughed. "Captain… I'm a mage-guard. I was sent here because no one in Mage-Guard Headquarters knows what to do with me. I have no desire at all to command men in the field. I was told that, in case of injury to you, I might have to take command until another captain could be dispatched, and that I'd better learn everything I could. My thighs are so sore I can barely walk, and I had to chase that rebel at a fast walk because I was afraid I'd fall off the horse if I went faster in the woods."

Drakeyt shook his head. "Quelsyn said you acted like you'd commanded before."

"The only people I've ever commanded were lawbreakers."

For several moments, Drakeyt said nothing. Then he nodded.

Rahl could sense the other's puzzlement, but decided that anything he said, or could say, about his background would do little to reassure the captain. "What did you find out?" he finally asked.

"No one has seen anything, and no one is missing anything."

"What do you plan for tomorrow?"

"We still haven't scouted the areas west of the town."

"Can we do that while we head southwest, or do we stay here?"

"Why don't we talk it over at the Painted Pony?"

"I won't be long."

"You may be there before me. I promised the administrator I'd tell him what we found."

"He might know," Rahl said. "I put the two prisoners in the town gaol. I thought they could stay there until the overcommander or someone else could question them."

Drakeyt started to open his mouth, then stopped.

Rahl waited.

"Do you think that was necessary? They're traitors."

"It has nothing to do with them," Rahl replied. "Have you met the marshal, personally? Or the submarshal?"

"No. Captains usually don't, except on rare occasions." Drakeyt paused. "I assume you have, from the way you asked that. Might I ask what that has to do with the rebels you captured?"

Rahl offered a wry smile. "Were you aware that Marshal Byrna was not the initial choice for the position?"

"I'd heard rumors…"

"Marshal Charynat was appointed, then died in… unusual circumstances." That was all Rahl could say, because that was all Taryl had told him.

"You believe that?"

"Yes. Remember, I do have the ability to tell when I'm being lied to. Now… Marshal Byrna is not exactly… a commander who is swift to act, and Submarshal Dettyr doesn't care much for mage-guards." Rahl paused. "Just how likely is either to fully believe a report by a mage-guard attached to the company of a captain?"

Drakeyt actually smiled. "So you've been planted on me to make sure that good information gets back to the campaign command."

"No one told me that… but that's the way the overcommander operates."

"We need to talk more. I'll see you at the inn. I'll still need to stop by and see the administrator because I said I would. It also won't hurt to suggest his prisoners need to stay healthy until someone from the campaign arrives to interrogate them. We certainly can't spare the bodies or the time to escort them back. It's bad enough to use troopers as messengers." Drakeyt nodded, then turned and left the stable.

Rahl finished grooming the gelding, then made sure the horse had feed. After that, he walked slowly toward the Painted Pony.

Just beyond the stable, he slowed. He could sense someone ahead, lurking around the corner of the narrow building beside the stable. He extended his order-senses, but realized that the figure was too small to be an adult, and sat huddled against the wall. Rahl stepped forward and peered around the corner of a narrow building beside the stable.

A small girl huddled against the wall. She looked up in surprise. Her cheeks were damp, and her eyes darted past Rahl, then down the alleyway.

Rahl didn't know quite what to say for a moment. He moved so that she could see him, but no farther. "I'm Rahl. I'm a mage-guard. You seem unhappy."

The girl looked at him, but did not move. Rahl could sense fear, resignation, and deep sadness.

"Do you want to tell me why you're sad?" Rahl kept his voice soft.

She gave the smallest of headshakes, then lowered her eyes so that she no longer looked at him.

"Do you live here?"

There was no reply, but Rahl sensed that she did.

Suddenly, a thin woman burst out of the side door ten cubits from Rahl. "Shereena! You worthless girl! Where are you?" She turned and took three hurried steps toward Rahl. "Who are you? Stay away from my daughter…" Her words died away as she saw the uniform. "Oh… I'm so sorry, ser. I…"

Rahl could sense the anger within the mother dying away, overtaken by fear.

"She was crying," Rahl said. "I stopped to ask her why. Perhaps you know?"

"She was upset. It hasn't been a good day, ser."

Rahl nodded politely. "Sometimes, days are like that. I hope you'll be gentle with her. She was very upset."

The woman's fear was partly replaced by irritation. "She wasn't all that good, ser."

"That may be," Rahl replied, trying to think of what to say that wouldn't cause the mother to take her anger out on the child once he left. "I don't suppose any of us were as good as we should have been as children." He stepped back, but did not leave.

"Shereena… it's time to come inside."

The girl rose, timidly. The mother extended her hand and took her daughter's hand firmly, but not roughly. Rahl watched as the two reentered the building. Neither looked back.

Finally, Rahl turned and continued toward the Painted Pony.

What else could he have done? He had the feeling that the child had been hurt, but no chaos had been involved, and he hadn't sensed any overt physical injury. The mother hadn't broken the Codex, not that he knew. Also, he wasn't a mage-guard assigned to Troinsta. Yet.. he still worried about the girl.

As he neared the inn, his eyes took in the signboard-a flat piece of wood some two cubits by three on which was painted, almost crudely, a pony standing on its hind hoofs with a beaker set on a front hoof. The pony's coat was depicted in irregular splotches of faded color-maroon, black, white, yellow, and blue. Looking closely, Rahl could see that someone had tried to paint over an original signboard, using the old work as a base, but the more recent painting had been far less skillful.

The same small girl who had served breakfast led him to the corner of the public room.

"Here you are, ser."

"Thank you. The other captain will be joining me shortly."

"Yes, ser. Would you like two ales? They come with dinner."

"Yes, we would."

"I'll bring them." She turned and hurried toward the kitchen.

Rahl repressed a smile at her seriousness, even as he mentally compared her to the child he had encountered outside the stable. The inn girl might have to work, but she had a confidence that bespoke a far more settled life.

He glanced around the public room. Unlike at breakfast, there was a scattering of others in the room. He did note that neither of the adjoining tables held patrons, and he doubted that was by coincidence. Nor was the fact that the girl served them. The child could not reveal to a mage-guard what she did not know.

Rahl wondered what, if anything, the innkeeper was hiding, or if he was operating out of caution. Rahl suspected caution, but one never knew. He also realized that there was a great danger in sensing too much. All too many folks had secrets they did not wish disclosed. That had to be one reason why the mage-guards were tasked with maintaining order and minimizing chaos under a simple Codex. More than that would have been impossible for the limited number of mage-guards.

Rahl was still waiting for the ales when Drakeyt eased into the old straight-backed chair on the other side of the square table. "We have ales coming. I don't know what the fare is yet."

"Whatever it is will be better than field rations."

"How was your visit with the administrator?" asked Rahl.

"He didn't like the idea of feeding prisoners, maybe for eightdays. I asked him if he wanted to upset the Mage-Guard Overcommander of Merowey. He decided that feeding them wasn't so bad after all." Drakeyt laughed.

Before either man could say more, the inn girl returned with two of the earthenware mugs filled with ale. "Here you are, sers. Tonight the fare is mutton pie, and it's three coppers for you, and that includes one mug of ale."

Both men nodded. Rahl put three coppers on the table. So did Drakeyt.

"It won't be long, sers." She left the coppers and turned back toward the kitchen.

An older woman emerged from the kitchen archway carrying two platters. She set them on the other corner table, before two white-haired and heavyset men who could have been brothers from their appearance.

"I was thinking," offered Drakeyt. "If we check out the steads to the west tomorrow and leave first thing on fiveday, we can send back a messenger then, and he can get back to us quicker. Also, the field rations will go farther. There's no place to quarter, not really, until we get to Istvyla, and that's a good three days' ride, even without scouting."

"Just little hamlets?"

"If that. The northeast of Merowey has the fewest people. There aren't that many large towns until you get near the coast…"

Rahl mostly listened as Drakeyt talked, and the two ate. He still thought about the girl by the stable.