Mage-Guard of Hamor

LXVIII

Rahl woke to find himself lying on his back. Knife-flashes of light seared across his eyes. In between those light-knives he could see, dimly, two low ceilings. He closed one eye. It helped a little-one of the plank ceilings faded, but didn't go away.

"Majer… you awake there?"

Rahl tried to speak, but his throat was so dry that he could barely croak, "Yes… mostly." He turned his head slowly, very slowly. He was lying on a lumpy pallet set on the floor. Two images of a trooper with a bound arm sat on a stool beside him, looking down at him.

Rahl slowly rolled into a sitting position, then took the water bottle that had been set beside the pallet. After several swallows, he spoke again. "What day is it? Where am I?"

"It's still eightday, ser, a little before sunset. Well… it'd be about then, except for the clouds. This here's a shed. Mighta held sheep, 'cepting the rebs herded 'em all off afore we got here."

"What happened?"

"We're still at the bottom of the hill, and the rebs are at the top, but they lost a lot more 'n we have. I guess that means we're winning."

"What about First Army?"

"Same thing, except they got farther up their hill. Lost more troopers, too."

Rahl took another swallow of water, thinking… or trying to.

A thin officer stepped into the shed-or rather two images of him did, and it took Rahl a moment to recognize Taryl, what with the two images and the light-knives that occluded his vision.

"Ser…" Rahl began.

Taryl looked at the trooper, who immediately left the shed, closing the door hastily. He surveyed Rahl with eyes and order-senses, then nodded. After a moment, he spoke. "I hope you realize that the only reason you're alive is because you're a mage-guard." Taryl's voice was dry and contained an edge of irritation.

Rahl understood that. Without his shields-

"No. It's not that. You got yourself unhorsed in the middle of a battle, and several troopers were injured, and one was killed, recovering you. They don't care about Rahl, the person. The reason they went after you is the same reason a trooper goes after a sabre knocked from his hand. You're a weapon. But you do that again, and they might not choose to see if you're alive, especially if there are chaos-bolts falling all around."

Rahl wanted to wince, but even the thought sent light-knives slashing through the twin images that shifted in front of him.

"For a time your actions were solid, but then, when you rode out to stop that lancer attack… that was another example of foolhardiness. Rahl… you could have done the same thing without drawing attention to yourself. Why didn't you?" Taryl didn't wait for a response, but went on. "Golyat's mages knew you were somewhere near Third Company, and the lancer attack was an attempt to draw you out and wear you down, then kill you and force us to retreat."

Rahl wanted to protest that his failure couldn't have been the only reason for the retreat.

"It wasn't," Taryl replied, "but it forced us to retreat earlier than would have been optimal, before we had inflicted as much damage on the defenders as we could have." He paused and looked directly at Rahl. "Also, it wouldn't hurt to practice your shields when you're exhausted. Other mages certainly won't respect your tiredness, and merely shielding your feelings and thoughts takes little energy if you do it right."

"Yes, ser," Rahl replied tiredly, making the effort.

"That's better."

So it was better. What difference did it make? All Taryl did any more when he met with Rahl was criticize, and that wasn't exactly helpful.

The overcommander shook his head. "I can't order-sense what you're feeling, but shields don't do much good if people can read your face."

Rahl said nothing. He had the feeling that Taryl wasn't even angry, but withdrawn, and perhaps tired.

"I could provide you with greater counsel, Rahl, but counsel does not develop independence and judgment. You must make enough mistakes, while trying your best, and while someone else can deflect the blame, in order to gain wisdom. Your magisters of Recluce did you no favors, nor did they do me any, either. I ask you this-would I spend so much time with you when so much is at stake if I did not care?" After the briefest of pauses, he went on. "Now… get some rest and eat as much as you can. And while you're resting, try to think over the situations you might be in and the way to respond by using the least order-effort possible."

With that, Taryl nodded, turned, and departed.

Rahl lay back on the straw pallet and looked up at the twin, last-flashed images of the rough plank ceiling of the shed, all too aware, especially now, that he was out of the cold and mist just because he was a useful weapon. Was that all Taryl had wanted? It couldn't be, could it? Taryl had worked with him long before anyone knew about the revolt… and he said he cared, and Rahl had to admit that he was getting more attention than did most junior officers. Yet Taryl expected something of him. That, too, was clear.

Rahl took a deep breath. Whatever the reason, he hadn't exactly pleased the overcommander.