Mage-Guard of Hamor

XLI

Two days later, just past midafternoon on fourday, Third Company reached Shaluzyl, another town set amid widely spaced low rolling hills. The spaces between the hills were filled with heavily worked bog meadows, many of them abandoned and filled with black water. Neither the scouts nor the outriders nor Rahl had discovered any sign of rebels or traps, but Rahl couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before they encountered either or both.

As they rode into the town, Rahl could make out several brick buildings that looked to be distilleries, with chimneys seeping gray smoke against a sky that was as much gray as green-blue. The brick houses were neat enough, but older, and the bricks were dingy, doubtless from years of smoke from the distilleries, and the air held the same pungent odor as it had in Fhydala.

The chandlery in Shaluzyl was fair-sized and across the square from the Inn of the Dun Cow. As the company drew up in formation, Rahl turned in the saddle and said to Drakeyt, "Once we get everyone quartered, I think I'll go over and talk to the chandler. We're close enough that he might know something, and what he's selling or not selling or can't get should tell us something."

"The chandlers in the past haven't been too helpful," Drakeyt pointed out.

"They've told us that there weren't any rebel forces or strangers, and that seemed to be right."

"They missed the mages and saboteurs."

Rahl wasn't quite certain how to respond to that. After a moment, he asked, "Do you have a better idea about whom in town we should question?"

"You might as well question him. Then we can claim that we've done our best when the marshal complains, not that he'll listen to us. I just don't think questioning people here is going to tell us much."

"Probably not, but how will we find out if we don't try?"

Drakeyt shrugged. "We'd better get on with dealing with quarters and food."

Rahl nodded. He was still going to talk to the chandler.

As in the other towns, the proprietor of the Dun Cow was willing to take script for quartering and feeding Third Company, but it was late afternoon by the time Rahl finished helping Drakeyt with quartering arrangements. Then he had to stable and groom the gelding. After that, he left his gear in the small room and walked to the chandlery.

The white-haired chandler was beginning to close the inner shutters when Rahl walked through the door. He turned.

Rahl saw that the man had but two fingers on his left hand. "Good evening."

"Evening, Captain. You're almost too late. You interested in some good riding fare? Or replacing some gear?"

"I might be interested in the fare. If it's not too costly. What do you have?"

"Hard white cheese wedges, and some dried beef strips. I've got some biscuits, special-like, a pack for a copper."

"Those might be useful," Rahl admitted. "Could I see them?"

"Over here, Captain." The chandler's two fingers pointed to a table against the wall. "In the tin on the left."

Rahl opened the tin. The riding biscuits were squares a span on a side and of a finger's thickness. Rahl suspected it would take strong teeth to chew them, but that they might fill his stomach at times. "How long will these last before they spoil?"

"Two seasons if you keep 'em dry."

The chandler believed what he said, Rahl could tell. "How many in a pack?"

"Five, but I'd make it six for you."

"Two packs, then." Rahl could have bargained for a lower price, but it had been a long day, and that wasn't his purpose in being there.

"Have to wrap 'em in grease paper unless you got a biscuit tin." The chandler smiled. "Got one of those, too. Old, but clean. Could let you have it for three coppers. It'll hold fifteen biscuits."

Rahl laughed. "How about half a silver for the tin and fifteen biscuits?"

"Suppose I could do that. Have to be for coin, not script. Been slower than I'd like lately."

"Coin it is." Rahl handed over five coppers. "Slow as it is, you still must get some travelers from Dawhut."

"Not many. Not these days, Captain. Just those who want to sell me the things I don't need more of because there aren't that many travelers."

"Are there any at all coming from the coast?"

"Not travelers."

"Then who?"

"Coast city traders and factors, looking for goods, or to sell 'em."

"What do they tell you about the rebels?"

"What rebels?" The chandler snorted. "Closest rebels are a good hundred kays southwest of Dawhut. The High Command garrison in Dawhut's got three companies. My cousin there… well, he's really Aviera's second cousin, but he's selling all he can get from everywhere else in Merowey because the rebels aren't letting any goods leave the coast."

Three companies in Dawhut? Then why hadn't they done any scouting? Or sent any scouts or messengers? Or had they, and had the rebel mage-guards captured or killed them? The latter possibility didn't seem that likely to Rahl, but he couldn't disregard it.

"What about goods here? Is anyone selling much?"

"Big thing is the Vyrna, and business there is piss poor. The Emperor won't let ships leave Nubyat, and the distilleries are stocking up Vyrna in barrels, hoping it's all over before long. A lot of folks sold their garden produce when one of the factors from Nubyat came up here last eightday. Some sides of mutton, too. Didn't think much of letting go of what they had for coin, but they will. They will. Can't eat coin, and prices'll go up come late winter and spring."

"You didn't, I take it?"

"I'm just a town chandler, but I know when I'm looking at a long winter."

"Produce wouldn't keep for that long, not on a wagon back to the coast."

"Not fresh, but he had pickling barrels in his big wagon, and lots of salt."

"There weren't any rebel troops with him?"

"Haven't seen a one. Aviera said they were staying away from the main road. Wouldn't have been surprised if the fellow with the pickling barrels hadn't already sold what he got before he'd even delivered." The chandler finished packing the biscuit tin and handed it to Rahl. "Here you go, Captain."

"Thank you. Have you seen or heard anything else that might be of interest?"

"The factor fellow was looking for bitumen. Didn't find any. The only place you can get that is in the hills north of Elmori. Other than that, haven't heard or seen anything… or anyone. Suppose that's of interest, seeing as we usually get more travelers this time of year than in summer or harvest."

Rahl could sense that the older man wasn't hiding anything and had said what he knew. "I appreciate the tin, the biscuits, and the information."

"I appreciate the coppers, Captain." The chandler smiled.

Rahl inclined his head, then turned and left. Even before he'd taken more than a few steps across the square toward the inn, the chandlery was shuttered and locked.

Drakeyt was standing on the front porch of the Dun Cow, looking northward at the puffy white clouds that were moving southward. "Rain, you think?"

"Not tomorrow, or not from those clouds," replied Rahl.

"What have you got there?"

"A biscuit tin, filled with biscuits."

"When a mage-captain buys hardtack biscuits…" Drakeyt shook his head. "That doesn't sound good."

"The chandler said a factor was here an eightday ago, buying all the produce he could get, and pickling it. Some mutton, too-salting it."

Drakeyt frowned. "So the rebels have taken steps to load up on supplies."

"That's my guess. The chandler's, too. Oh, the factor from Nubyat was looking for bitumen, too."

Drakeyt winced. "They're looking to make Cyadoran fire. Nasty stuff."

"They didn't get any here, but there's supposedly some north of Elmori."

"We'd best hope that they don't ship a lot to Nubyat."

"Did you know there were three companies in Dawhut?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," replied Drakeyt.

"Why couldn't they keep the roads open and deal with the few rebels that there are?" asked Rahl.

"Three companies three hundred kays from Nubyat are enough to hold a large town," Drakeyt pointed out. "That is, if the rebels don't send ten companies and if the companies don't get whittled down in piddling engagements."

"So these traps were designed to whittle them down?"

"More to slow and whittle us down. The rebels had to know that the majer in Dawhut wouldn't risk troopers on road patrols. He might even have had orders to hold the town. That could be why we've been ordered to wait for the submarshal."

"Because he's worried that there might be rebel forces around Dawhut? Or because the majer might attack us if we tried to enter the town."

Drakeyt shrugged. "It could be either. We'll find out when we start sending out scouting patrols tomorrow. We wouldn't want the submarshal to encounter any surprises."

"I should be with one of the patrols near the main road," Rahl offered.

"I'd thought you would be," Drakeyt replied. Then he smiled.

Rahl couldn't help grinning… but only for a moment.