Mage-Guard of Hamor

XLVI

On twoday morning before dawn, Rahl sat at one end of a swaybacked trestle table in Korsyn's kitchen eating fresh-fried egg toast. The kitchen was a long, narrow room with tan-plaster walls-or walls that might once have been white and that had become tan from the heat and smoke of cooking. The big iron stove dominated the outside wall, and hints of turf smoke escaped from the ceramic tile that vented the stove into the hearth chimney behind it.

Drakeyt sat to Rahl's right. The holder's consort and two older daughters were busy frying up stacks of toast for Third Company-using not quite stale bread that Quelsyn and the company's acting quartermaster had gotten from somewhere on oneday afternoon while the rest of Third Company had been setting up at the holder's stead.

Rahl almost felt guilty eating a hot breakfast with the holder and his consort, but Drakeyt didn't seem to have any qualms as he quickly ate the egg toast drizzled with a thin and barely sweet redberry syrup.

"This is good egg toast," Rahl said.

"Khasia makes the best in this part of the valley," replied Korsyn.

"The best north of Dawhut," added Khasia, not turning from the turf-fired iron stove that warmed the entire kitchen. "And don't you forget it."

"You've not had any… trouble… last night or this morning?" inquired Drakeyt.

"No, ser. Your troopers been right polite to all of us."

Drakeyt looked to Rahl.

Rahl nodded, sensing that the holder and his consort were saying what they felt.

The night before, after Drakeyt had mustered the company at the stead, he had gathered the squad leaders, and he had been adamant that no harm of any sort was to come to the holder or his family. He'd even indirectly referred to Rahl, by suggesting that, if any questions were raised, there was no doubt that he'd find the truth. All five had glanced at Rahl, even though the mage-guard's name had never been mentioned.

"I wish we could pay you in coin," added Drakeyt.

"Script's better than potatoes and roots we'd have to sell in Nubyat for the prince's paper chits," replied Korsyn. "That paper'll be worthless in less than two seasons."

Rahl thought that Korsyn was being optimistic until the holder spoke again.

"One way or another. The Emperor'll defeat the prince. If he doesn't, the prince still won't have the golds to pay off his paper."

"We won't be here too long," said Drakeyt, ignoring the obvious truth of the holder's words. "I know it's cramped."

"We're not doing too bad. Norwal… he's just to the north. He's got two companies there. They claimed he had two big barns. Wanted to know where the second one was." Korsyn laughed roughly. "Burned down three years back. He lost his eldest and his consort and all that year's crop. Never had the golds to rebuild."

"It sounds like the quartering plans were based on information that was years old," offered Drakeyt.

"Five years leastwise."

How much other information was that dated? Rahl wondered.

"Did you ever hear any word about the rebellion?" asked Rahl. "Before it happened, that is?"

"Not a word, not here in Dawhut. I was down in Storisa last spring, and I heard one of the grain factors there saying that things were going to change, but he wouldn't say how. The fellow with him muttered something about a 'real emperor.' I just thought it was talk." The holder turned both palms up.

"Has anyone else you know heard things like that anywhere else?"

"I haven't." Korsyn glanced toward Khasia.

Even though he had not spoken to his consort, and she was working at the stove with her back to the table, Khasia replied. "Calydena was in Nubyat in early summer. She sometimes works the barges with her consort. She told me that they were building big walls around parts of the harbor, almost like a fort. No one seemed to know why."

If true, that would tend to confirm Taryl's supposition that the planning for the rebellion had been ongoing for some time.

Neither Korsyn nor Khasia had any more to offer, and Rahl hurried to finish his breakfast so that he would not delay Drakeyt and Third Company.

Once the two officers were outside the dwelling in the chill and damp northwest wind, Drakeyt stopped and looked at Rahl. "We're better off here. I wouldn't want to be at the compound right now. Not with all the senior majers and the commanders billeted there. The majer there-I think it's Zoacyr-can't be having an easy time."

"The River Inn would be worse with the commanders and the sub-marshal," Rahl added, thinking about their last encounter with Submarshal Dettyr. "Especially after yesterday. Why would he do something that stupid? Every junior captain in the army would know that you don't pack troops into a confined area like that."

Drakeyt shook his head. "I can't agree with you on that. Remember, the submarshal was once a junior captain, and there are others just like he was around now. There are always some of that type. They don't think; they just follow orders, and they get promoted. They keep following orders, and some of them get promoted until they become majers and commanders."

"All of them?"

"No. Just the ones lucky enough to survive."

Rahl's lips quirked, and he nodded. Was it that way everywhere? He'd seen that in Land's End, and in Nylan. No one had liked it when he'd asked questions. But then, Taryl didn't mind questions. No… Taryl didn't mind good questions; he was less patient with stupid questions. But then, could anyone learn to ask good questions without asking stupid ones, at least in the beginning?

In the gray light that preceded dawn, Drakeyt and Rahl resumed walking toward the stable that held but a handful of mounts. The others were either on tether lines or in a corral to the west of the barn where most of the company had bedded down.

"How do you want to handle the scouting today?" asked Rahl.

"I'd thought… now, I'm only suggesting…" Drakeyt began.

"Suggest away," Rahl said dryly.

"No one's going to be putting traps on the side lanes and the back roads, but holders back there might have seen anyone who did." Drakeyt said blandly.

Why was the captain being so indirect?

"Of course, if you don't agree…"

Rahl suddenly understood. "When did you notice?"

Drakeyt gave a sheepish grin. "I didn't. When we were leaving the square, Balazyr rode over and asked if I knew you were a senior mage-guard." He shook his head. "I thought I'd looked close enough when you were posted to Third Company."

"You did," Rahl replied. "I only got the promotion when the submarshal's forces joined us in Saluzyl. I didn't expect it."

"You never said anything. You outrank me, now."

Rahl shrugged. "You're still in command of Third Company. It doesn't change anything. I still don't know as much as you do about running a company." He grinned momentarily. "What did you have in mind?"

"Like I said, no one's going to set traps away from the main road. So… if you could take fourth and fifth squads and check over anything that looks strange on the main road, then Quelsyn and I will follow and see what we can find out from the holders on each side, and on the side and back lanes."

"How far out should we go?"

"Ten kays, if we can."

"I can do that, but it will take longer for you to check all the holders. Once we reach ten kays, we can turn back and start talking to the holders until we meet up."

"Good." Drakeyt nodded.

As he saddled the gelding, Rahl wondered why Drakeyt had become even more deferential. Or did senior mage-guards just have a reputation for being difficult?