Mage-Guard of Hamor

XXXVII

During the remainder of fiveday, Rahl had taken second squad south along the hills at the western side of the valley to see if they could better determine the cause of the flood, but that had been fruitless-unless they had wanted to spend eightdays climbing rocky cliffs-because the southern part of the valley ended in sheer cliffs, and the lower part of the gorge through which the river flowed ended in the middle of those cliffs in a waterfall, with rock too steep and treacherous to climb, even on foot. Rahl had no doubts that there was a more roundabout and easier access to the upper gorge, but he could not see or sense it, and with darkness falling, he turned the patrol back. Third Company spent the night barely sheltered by a section of woods on the western rise overlooking the partly flooded valley.

Early on sixday, which dawned clear and frosty, Drakeyt sent off messengers with a report on the flood and the destroyed bridge. Once it was clear that the two troopers had safely forded the lowered river and were on the solid part of the road to the east, the captain ordered Third Company to continue westward on its scouting mission.

Drakeyt did not speak to anyone, other than giving orders, until the company had covered several kays, when he finally turned to Rahl, who rode beside him. "Have you any more warnings or concerns?"

"No. There's no one close, not that I can tell."

The older captain pursed his lips, then lowered his voice. "We're slower than we should be. By the time the submarshal's forces join us in Dawhut, it will be midwinter, if not later. The rains will come more frequently, and they'll be heavier and last longer."

Rahl forbore to point out that they really had no idea whether Dawhut lay open to the Imperial forces or the rebels held it. In the end, all he said was, "We can only do the best we can."

"And remember that the marshal won't find it good enough," added Drakeyt sardonically. "Success is due to the marshal's brilliance, failure to the shortcomings of junior officers."

Rahl was slightly surprised at Drakeyt's words. Not at their accuracy, but at the fact that the captain had voiced them. He managed his own reply. "Shortcomings being the inability to overcome the impossible and predict the unpredictable?"

"Something like that." Drakeyt gave the slightest of headshakes. "I'd be happier if we still had Marshal Charynat commanding the campaign."

"Do you know who's in command of the rebels?"

"No one's said, and if anyone would know, the majer would."

Taryl might well know, but he'd not told Rahl, and there wasn't much point in suggesting Taryl knew, then admitting he hadn't informed Rahl.

Drakeyt turned and studied the road ahead once more.

The sky remained hazy, and the air cool, with a light wind out of the north. Although it was hard to tell, Rahl felt that the rolling hills were lower with each kay. There were certainly more steads-except they were estates with larger dwellings, almost mansions, and smaller dwellings around them, set amid fields and orchards. Stopping and inspecting each of the grand holdings slowed their progress even more-and seemed almost futile-since no one recalled seeing any rebel forces.

How could they not have seen something?

Abruptly, Rahl smiled. Magery-that might explain it. He hadn't sensed any chaos or order around the people that they had questioned, but that didn't mean some sort of sight shield couldn't have been used, and some sort of order might have made building whatever dam had held the water far easier. But that raised other questions, such as why the attacks and traps were so scattered. That suggested the rebels didn't have many strong mages and were trying to create an impression of strength while slowing the advance of the Imperial forces.

He shifted his weight in the saddle. At least he had begun to gain some skill at riding, and he had managed to stay in the saddle on the headlong charge to escape the flood. His eyes swept the countryside, now showing not only estates and smaller holdings, but bog meadows with workers in them, and a distillery here and there. It looked almost as orderly as Recluce, not that Deybri or the magisters would ever admit such.

With all the days of sleeping in the open, Rahl had not been able to add to his letter to Deybri, although he did think about her… and dream. Dreaming of a distant healer seemed impossible. Stupid, some might say, but he could no more not dream of her than breathe. The magisters would never let him return to Nylan, no matter how accomplished an ordermage he became, and Deybri had already said-more than once, and firmly-how much she had hated being in Hamor.

Rahl pushed his thoughts away from her and concentrated on the road.

Several hundred cubits ahead, just before the road curved gradually to the right, the brush in front of a stretch of trees had grown up to almost shoulder height within ten cubits of the road, so high that Rahl lost sight of the first outriders. Beyond the trees was a stubbled field behind a rail fence. Absently, Rahl probed that area of high brush, but could sense nothing living, except small creatures-rodents and perhaps a jay or a traitor bird. He wondered if the brush had grown up over an old fence because there was some structure inside the brush but near the front. He shook his head. Just so long as there weren't any rebels.

Suddenly, the mount of one of the second outriders stumbled. The brush shuddered, and a hail of arrows or quarrels flashed across the road. A number struck the trooper and his mount-with enough force that the horse and rider went down.

For a moment, Rahl just rode on, his mouth opening. Then he started to urge the gelding forward.

"Rahl! Are there any rebels near?" demanded Drakeyt.

"No."

"Then, hold up. You don't want to set off another trap."

Rahl reined up, scanning the area with his order-senses again. The horse was screaming, and he had to concentrate. "There's no one near."

"Company! Halt!" ordered Drakeyt. "Arms ready!"

Rahl probed the brush, far more carefully. What he had thought was an old fence in the brush was more structured. He turned. "There's something hidden in brush. I'm going to circle around behind it."

Drakeyt nodded. "Be careful."

Rahl eased the gelding onto the shoulder of the road for a time, then into the brush, easing his way forward. He could feel that the trooper was dead; his mount's screams had died to a slowed and labored breathing. Rahl could sense that the horse would not last long.

He could sense another section of what he had thought was fence.. and another beyond that, and both concealed by high brush and grasses.

"There are two others!" he called back.

Two older troopers rode up to join him.

"Can you show us where, sir?"

Rahl explained exactly where the two were, and the troopers dismounted.

In moments, after making sure no one was near the devices, they had sprung the traps, and then began to disassemble them, quickly, and with little interest in preserving them. Rahl moved closer and watched carefully.

Drakeyt joined them, then turned to Quelsyn, who had also ridden up. "Have a detail bury Honyk, but give me the pouch with his personals."

"Yes, ser." Quelsyn turned his mount back down the column, returning with three troopers, who eased the dead trooper away from his mount.

Rahl turned his attention back to the two troopers who had disarmed the last two quarrel-throwers. While the two troopers worked quickly, it still took some time for them to remove all the sections of the devices. There had been three of the traps set in a row. The construction was simple enough-a counterweighted board on an axle of sorts with quarrels set in wooden tubes. The counterweight was held by a cord running in a pipe to a trigger plate buried a span under the road. If a horse or a heavy wagon pressed on the wooden plate, it was depressed and a sharpened piece of metal cut the cord, releasing the quarrels. Rahl could appreciate the engineering of the mechanisms, because it was simple, yet could have been built elsewhere. Installing it would not have taken that long for several men.

"How did they keep it from being set off by locals?" asked Quelsyn, peering down at the hole in the ground where the first trigger plate had been.

Rahl studied the wooden box that was the plate assembly, then nodded. "There's a space here for an iron rod. They probably had a cord attached to it and pulled it out before we got here."

Drakeyt looked at Rahl. "That means someone is just ahead of us, watching us."

Rahl nodded. It also meant that whoever it was knew there might be a mage-guard with the company because they remained out of his range of order-sensing.

"It's another way of trying to slow us down. Now… we'll have to be even more careful."

"If we're looking for things like these," Rahl said, "I'd better be farther ahead, at least with the second outriders."

"That will make you more of a target," Drakeyt pointed out.

Rahl offered a grin he didn't feel. "Everyone's a target, sooner or later. I won't do the company much good if I'm not where I can sense things."

"Try not to get yourself killed," Drakeyt replied. "I'd hate to explain it to your overcommander."

Rahl nodded.

The captain turned to the older troopers who had disarmed the quarrel-throwers. "Just bust up that crap and toss it into the forest, except for the quarrels. They might come in useful. We've got a town or two to scout."

A town or two or more, and who knew how many more devices and traps? Rahl let his order-senses range over the quarrel-throwers again, trying to get a better feel for them.