Mage-Guard of Hamor

VIII

Breakfast on oneday was little different from the evening meal on eight-day, save that Rahl was introduced to even more mage-guards. Unlike the mess in Swartheld, Rahl found that there were fully as many mage-guards who had order-skills as chaos-skills, although he did not sense any who approached Taryl in strength… unless some of the older mage-guards had such subtle shields that he could not ascertain their true strength, and that was certainly possible. Once more, he only mentioned his vague assignment to Taryl and did his best to talk about Swartheld. After he had eaten, and Taryl had done so with the seniors, Taryl joined Rahl in the foyer outside the mess.

"I'm meeting with Triad Fieryn shortly," announced the thin-faced and angular mage-guard. "When I know more, I'll get back to you. I've already arranged for you to spar with Khedren this morning. He's the headquarters armsmaster, and he should be able to teach you something about how to handle a falchiona with less strain."

Rahl wondered if that could be possible.

"There are techniques. Physical techniques, not order techniques," Taryl added.

"Besides," Rahl replied with a grin, "I'll get into less trouble if I'm working hard and no one can ask questions."

"There is that." Taryl's face was expressionless.

Even so, Rahl caught the sense of amusement.

"You'll need all the practice you can get," Taryl added. "After you finish, wait for me in the library. I trust you can find some suitable reading material to pass the time."

"What would you consider most suitable, ser."

"I'd suggest one of the histories of the mage-guards. It might give you a better feel for the traditions, but try to read between the lines and the words. What is not written is often as important as what is. Try the most slender volume first."

"Yes, ser." Rahl had to wonder how he was supposed to determine what had not been written. Taryl was sounding like Kadara, and that bothered him.

"Off with you. The armory and exercise chambers are in the smaller separate building to the south, across the paved rear area and next to the stables."

Rahl nodded and headed for the main entry foyer, passing several other mage-guards and nodding politely as he did. Outside, even as early as it was, the air was warm and nearly as damp as it had been in late summer in Swartheld. The green-blue sky was faintly silvered with a thin haze that did nothing to reduce the heat and glare of the sun.

Unlike the main headquarters, the armory was a low one-story building with two entrances. Rahl took the eastern one and found himself in a foyer with three corridors branching from it. In the middle of the foyer was a table with a fresh-faced mage-clerk seated behind it.

"Might I help you, ser?"

"I'm supposed to meet with armsmaster Khedren."

"Yes, ser. He said he had a sparring session."

"That's what I'm supposed to be doing," Rahl admitted.

"He's in the main sparring chamber. If you'd take the right corridor to the second set of double doors halfway down."

"Thank you." Rahl smiled and followed the mage-clerk's directions down the empty corridor. He passed one door, and he could sense a number of people beyond it. He also heard a strident voice.

"… juniors! All of you… the next one who makes that mistake gets to spar with a senior…"

A faint smile crossed Rahl's lips.

When he reached the second set of doors, Rahl paused, taking a long, slow breath and wondering exactly what to expect. Then he opened the right-hand door and stepped inside. The stone-walled chamber was well lit by four large skylights, but each had what looked to be a black shade to one side and a rope dangling from one end.

Rahl nodded. The arrangement was similar to what Taryl had used in Luba to train Rahl.

"Taryl said you'd be here." The man who stepped forward wore a worn khaki uniform of a mage-guard, but without insignia. He was the only one in the chamber besides Rahl.

"Yes, ser. You're armsmaster Khedren, ser?"

Nodding, Khedren picked up two staffs, extending one to Rahl. The armsmaster was one of the few men in Hamor taller than Rahl, yet even in the few moments Rahl had observed him, Rahl saw a spare grace in his movements and gestures. He bore only the slightest traces of white, but Rahl suspected that was because of the effectiveness of his shields.

Rahl set aside his visor cap, hanging it on one of the polished wooden pegs on the rack beside the door, then took the proffered staff.

"You might as well strip down to your undertunic," suggested Khedren. "Taryl said to give you a workout."

"Yes, ser." After leaning the staff against the stone wall, Rahl took off his shirt and hung it on another peg, then took out his truncheon and laid it across the space between two of the pegs. He reclaimed the exercise staff and turned.

"Taryl said you were tolerably good with a staff and truncheon. I'd like to see how tolerably good that might be. Let's see your defenses, first. No attacks." The armsmaster took his staff and walked to the center of the exercise chamber without waiting for a response.

Rahl followed and then squared off, waiting for whatever attack Khedren might offer.

For several long moments, Khedren did nothing, and Rahl waited, shifting his weight from foot to foot, trying to keep loose, yet alert. More time passed, but Rahl waited, knowing that Khedren was simply trying to unnerve him… or get him to attack and thus fail to follow instructions.

The armsmaster finally moved, with a graceful jab that was half feint, followed by an undercut that Rahl slid. Khedren then thrust directly at Rahl from below, and Rahl slipped sideways, keeping his attention on the armsmaster's body rather than his eyes. Eyes could deceive, but body weight was harder to use as a feint or deception.

Once Khedren seemed to realize that Rahl was not open to the normal openings and feints, the armsmaster's next efforts were based on his greater height and physical strength. Rahl countered by moving and slipping the blows, always sideways, rather than retreating.

Then came the more complex movements, some that Rahl had never seen, but he managed to avoid being struck, although, at times, Khedren nearly managed it… but not quite.

Rahl was sweating profusely when Khedren finally stepped back and lowered his staff. He laughed, softly. "Taryl always did prefer understatement. 'If you're tolerably good with a staff, how are you with a truncheon?"

"Actually, ser, I'm just a trace better with the truncheon."

"I'll take your word for that." Khedren paused. "You must have had training before you came to Luba, even before you went to Nylan."

"My father put a truncheon in my hands almost as soon as I could hold it, ser. He had no order-skills, but he wanted me to be able to defend myself in a way that would not encourage me to be a bravo." That was partly a surmise on Rahl's part, because Kian had never quite said that, but Rahl felt it to be so.

"Wise man. We'll work on the blades, now, since Taryl asked me to give you instruction in falchiona techniques that are most useful for an ordermage. If you'd put the staffs in the rack over there, I'll get the weighted wooden blanks."

Khedren walked to a chest set against the far wall, which he opened, and from which he extracted two blades. He walked back to Rahl, displaying both blunted practice weapons. They looked almost identical, but one felt far less threatening to Rahl.

"You can tell the difference, can't you?"

"Yes, ser."

A faint smile appeared on Khedren's lips. "The one you'll use is of heavy oak with small lead weights set in the wood to approximate the weight and heft of a falchiona as closely as possible. Even a blunted blade strains a good ordermage, and the better the ordermage, the more the strain. There's no reason to create unnecessary strain." Khedren paused. "What we'll work on with you is a series of moves designed more to keep an opponent from even crossing blades with you. From that basic set of moves, you'll learn three or four single strikes. Obviously, you only want to use them when you're facing a single opponent, or when others aren't too close, because if you're successful, you'll be frozen for a moment after a blade kill, and a good blade can strike in that instant."

Rahl took the weighted wooden blank. As Khedren had said, it had the weight and heft of a falchiona, but it was easier to hold and didn't contain the ugly reddish white of a true falchiona.

"Now… watch this." Khedren stepped to one side and began to demonstrate.

Rahl concentrated, knowing that he well might need to know everything that the armsmaster could teach him.

Once more Rahl found himself sweating heavily by the time Khedren called a halt.

"That's enough for today. You'll need more practice before they become natural."

Rahl could tell already that the techniques would be helpful, although he hoped never to have to discover exactly how useful. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." Khedren smiled. "In return, I have a favor to ask of you. After you have some bread and cheese, and some rest." He gestured.

Rahl followed him to a small adjoining chamber, which held a small table and several straight-backed chairs. He was glad to sit down, but surprised when Khedren sliced several small wedges of cheese off a wheel and set a loaf of bread on the table, along with two mugs of ale.

"Thank you."

"I enjoyed it. Unless Taryl or Jyrolt or a handful of others come through, I don't really get a chance to work out with someone of skill. You could be among the best in years-with the staff and truncheon."

Rahl wondered about the favor. "Ah…"

"Oh, the favor. It's very simple. I'd like you to spar with some of the older mage-clerks, and I'd like you to disarm them as quickly, but painlessly, as possible. As you may know, the mage-clerks have this tendency to think that they are better than they are, and they dismiss my efforts because they feel that I'm an armsmaster and that they'll seldom come up against anyone that good."

Rahl couldn't help grinning.

"Finish up eating while I have Fientard bring them over here."

Rahl tried not to hurry, but he still felt nervous, and was waiting at the end of the chamber when Khedren returned with another arms-mage and five mage-clerks. As he walked toward the group, Rahl couldn't help but be aware of his disheveled appearance and the aura of near contempt from the dark-haired youth who was taller than the others and even slightly taller than Rahl himself.

Rahl stopped and listened as Khedren addressed the five.

"Some of you seem to have the mistaken impression that you are of equivalent ability to the everyday mage-guard. I have told you that is not so, but you seem not to have understood my words." Khedren inclined his head to Rahl. "Rahl here became a full mage-guard less than a year ago, and he has been stationed in Swartheld. He is an ordermage, as some of you should be able to tell, so that he will not be able to use chaos against you. Each of you will have an opportunity to attack him with your own weapon of choice. He will use a truncheon."

Rahl decided to use his own weapon, rather than a practice truncheon, and reclaimed it from where he had placed it on the pegs.

Khedren turned to the mage-clerk who still radiated a slightly veiled contempt. "Viencyr, you seem eager to prove your worth. You can go first."

The would-be mage-guard lifted a blunt-edged falchiona.

Rahl emulated Khedren's earlier example and walked to the center of the chamber, where he waited for Viencyr.

The youth followed, then took a stance, with his feet slightly too far apart, raising his falchiona to a guard position.

"You may begin," Rahl said quietly.

Viencyr began to circle, and Rahl angled into the youth's trailing side. When Viencyr turned and flicked out the blade, almost as if as a warning, Rahl leaned and darted in behind the blade, bringing his truncheon sharply across Viencyr's elbow. The falchiona clattered to the stone.

Rahl could sense that he'd been too quick for what he had done to make an impression. He stepped back. "Pick it up."

Viencyr scooped up the blade and attempted to attack as he came up.

Rahl was waiting, and beat down the blade, stepped on it, and jammed his truncheon into Viencyr's gut. The youth doubled over, letting go of the blade. Rahl stepped back.

"You're next, Xeryt."

Xeryt was more cautious, but the results were the same, if with different moves by Rahl.

Rahl didn't raise a sweat in disarming all five.

After the last, Khedren turned. "Thank you very much, Mage-Guard Rahl."

"My pleasure, ser."

Rahl began to collect his gear, deciding, although it might not be approved, merely to carry his shirt back to the quarters and not to wear it until he washed up. He also managed not to smile as Khedren spoke to the mage-clerks.

"… hope this little demonstration has given you all an idea of how much you still have to learn about arms. I would also point out that Mage-Guard Rahl could easily have killed each and every one of you with no more effort than he used in disarming you. There are a number of Codex breakers in Swartheld who are no longer with the living as a result of his truncheon…"

How much had Taryl told Khedren? Rahl slipped out of the arms exercise chamber and made his way back to his quarters. By the time he had cleaned up and was back in full uniform, it was early afternoon.

As he walked along the main-floor corridor toward the library, he noted large pale green glass hexagons set at regular intervals between the stone floor tiles, something he had not seen before. The hexagons ended at the door to the library, located in the corner spaces between the quarters wing and the mess wing.

Only a few older mages were in the chamber, but one glared at Rahl as he entered. Rahl merely smiled politely in return and made his way to the floor-to-ceiling shelves. In time, he located the shelf that held the histories, and he found four different ones. Following Taryl's advice, he picked the thinnest volume- Historie of the Mage-Guards of Hamor. From the binding and the letter styles, he suspected it was also the oldest.

Then he settled into one of the comfortable armchairs best placed to catch the light from the long and narrow windows and began to read.

The historie of the Mage-Guards of Hamor is old and illustrious, for the Mage-Guards form one pillar of the three that support the Empire, and the most vital pillar of those three…

He read almost thirty pages, learning little more than what Taryl and Jyrolt had already told him, except for names and accomplishments that meant little to him and the fact that the Triad was actually composed of a senior mage picked by the senior mages of the mage-guards, one chosen by the High Command, and one picked by the Emperor.

His stomach was beginning to growl, when the faintest sound of steps… and the aura of another mage-guard, definitely female, neared. She carried a larger volume than Rahl's and eased into the chair beside him. Although she did not look at Rahl at all, he could sense that she had order-skills and was employing them. He left his order shields as they had been, low enough to protect him from casual probing and intrusion, and continued with the book. He turned the pages, slowly, not so much reading as looking for facts that would help him better understand the mage-guards.

She finally coughed, and Rahl looked up.

The blond mage-guard pointed to his volume and shook her head.

He raised his eyebrows.

She stood, still carrying the large tome, then motioned for Rahl to follow her.

Rahl rose and walked after her, out into the foyer of the library. The history was not that intriguing, and he wanted to know why she was spying on him. He couldn't believe it was just casual interest.

"I'm Edelya," she said. "I noticed that you were reading a mage-guard history. Everyone picks that one up because it looks short, but it's not very good, and it's harder to read than almost any of the others."

"Rahl," he replied. "The language is… stiff, I guess I'd call it. How did you know that?" He looked at her closely. While she was small and wiry, petite, her face was smooth, almost chiseled, and her eyes were like gray granite, and looked about as hard. Behind the pleasant smile, she felt cool, almost shallow, compared to Deybri, or even Kadara or Leyla. With a shock, he realized that her bearing and attitude were more like Fahla, the factor's daughter that Puvort had sentenced to indentured slavery because she had refused to betray her father.

For a moment, Rahl's anger flared, but he caught himself. The faintest hint of puzzlement escaped Edelya's shields. Rahl decided it was better to explain than let her think the anger was directed at her.

"I'm sorry," Rahl said. "You reminded me of someone to whom a great wrong was done, and it kindled anger at those who did it."

"Someone you cared for?" Her eyebrows lifted.

He laughed softly. "She was never more than a friend, but it was still a wrong." After a moment, he added, "Which history would you suggest?"

"Aliazyr's-it's the one in the brown-and-black binding."

"How do you know so much about the histories?"

"We all have to read them sooner or later. The training mages force them upon mage-clerks here, and those of you who are trained elsewhere… usually someone 'suggests' you read them when you come here."

Rahl nodded. "Where are you from?"

"Cigoerne." Edelya paused. "Chalamer, actually. It's about ten kays from here, but I always have to explain."

"What are your duties here?"

"My… you are formal, Rahl."

"More like curious." Rahl offered a grin. "I haven't really figured out why the Emperor and the mage-guards need so many mages here."

"There really aren't that many." She frowned. "There might be twoscore, not counting the trainee mage-clerks. There are about twoscore and a half of those right now, but you won't see most of them. Only the senior mage-clerks get to eat in the mess with the mage-guards. The senior clerks are the ones within a year of their evaluation."

"And you? Are you one of those who helps train them?"

"Sometimes I help with the exercises for those who are ordermages, but I'm actually an assistant to the weather mage. Before long, I'll probably be sent south." She shook her head. "Knowing what the weather might be is something people overlook, but it can determine when to fight and when not to."

Rahl hadn't thought about that. "Can you affect the weather?"

"I'm not that good, not yet, anyway. If the air's really damp, sometimes I can make it rain, and at times in the mountains, I can make fog. What about you?"

Rahl shook his head. "I'm just a patrol mage."

"You wouldn't be here if you were just a patrol mage."

"I'm just following orders." Rahl smiled, politely. "I'll take your advice about the histories… but I do need to get back to reading one of them, or I'll be in trouble."

"I hope I'll see you around." Edelya smiled warmly, although the feelings beneath the expression were cooler and more calculating. "Some nights, some of the regular mage-guards go over to the Staff and Blade. It's just half a kay west."

"Thank you. Some of that depends on my duties and when I'm ordered off somewhere else."

"It always does. Do you know where?"

"No, I don't, and I've learned there's not much point in asking until someone's ready to tell me."

She laughed. "There is that. Good day, Rahl."

"Good day, Edelya."

Rahl nodded and stepped back, moving back into the library, where he followed her suggestion and exchanged the history he'd been reading for the one bound in brown and black. After reading twenty pages in a fraction of the time it had taken him to read the same amount in the first book, Rahl had to admit that Edelya had been right. Aliazyr's history was far better-not to mention more readable-than the one he'd been reading before.

He had read through another forty pages by the time Taryl arrived and motioned for him to leave the library. He also noted the veiled surprise from the two older mage-guards-both ordermages-who were reading.

Taryl did not speak until they were out in the corridor beyond the library foyer. "We'll be here for several more days, if not longer, while Marshal Byrna gathers his forces. We will be going to the High Command for a briefing tomorrow afternoon. I was invited, but you're coming as well."

"Yes, ser."

"How was your day?"

"I sparred with Khedren and learned some of the techniques. He said I was better than tolerable with the staff and truncheon, and he had some of the older mage-clerks go against me. He said I'd be doing him a favor if I disarmed them quickly without damaging them permanently."

"I assume you did."

"Yes, ser."

"Good. Did anything else of interest happen?" Taryl raised his eyebrows.

"Just what you warned me about. A pretty mage-guard named Edelya approached me. We talked for a while, but I did my best to play dumb and dutiful."

"You probably did well with dutiful, but I doubt you deceived her about your intelligence. You can't play dumb well, Rahl." Taryl turned. "We have some time. I'm going to try another set of exercises on you, and then we'll visit the stables. This way." He walked from the foyer back along the corridor to a narrow door.

When Taryl opened the door, Rahl saw an equally narrow staircase leading downward to a landing, then doubling back.

"Close the door behind you."

"Yes, ser."

There were no lamps in the corridor below-roughly half the width of the main-floor hallway-but it was still dimly lit with faint greenish lights set in the ceiling at regular intervals. Rahl glanced up at the nearest, slowing and trying to make out where the light came from that emerged from the hexagonal glass faces. He'd seen them before…

Taryl stopped and looked over his shoulder. "It's an elongated prism set in the corridor floor above. It catches the light and diffuses it down here. That's enough for most mages, and that means we don't have to worry about lamps and lamp oil. They use them on ships, too. Come on."

The concept was simple enough, Rahl realized, and he should have realized that the green hexagons in the floor above were for more than decoration. Still, he didn't recall seeing anything like them being used anywhere else.

Taryl stopped before a closed door and turned to Rahl. "I want you to wait outside in the corridor until I call you. Then I want you to close your eyes, and use your order-senses to enter. You won't be attacked. This is something else." The senior mage-guard's voice was dry.

Rahl waited, then closed his eyes and pressed the door lever after he heard his name.

"Close the door firmly. Then you can open your eyes."

When Rahl opened his eyes, he could see nothing. The room was pitch-black. Not more of Taryl's exercises in the dark!

"There's a table in front of you," Taryl said. "Pick up the block on it that feels most orderly. Don't feel around for it. Pick it up on a single attempt."

Rahl could sense Taryl standing behind the table.

"Go ahead. Don't waste time."

Rahl concentrated, but each of the three blocks felt so small that he had a hard time determining which had the most order. Finally, he picked the one farthest from him. It was iron, but tiny enough that two of them could have rested on his thumbnail.

"Now, without letting any of the blocks touch, take the one you have and set it as close as you can to the one with the least order."

Rahl managed that, although he actually set it slightly farther away, then nudged it nearer to the least orderly block.

"Line them up as close as possible, with the least orderly to your right and the most orderly to your left…"

The exercises went on for a time before Taryl said, "Now, use your order-senses to make a triangle of the blocks with the most orderly at the point facing me. Don't move them with your hands, and don't let them touch."

Rahl was sweating by the time he moved the tiny blocks without using his hands, but he did manage the task.

Taryl set another block on the table. "Make a square with all four."

That seemed easier.

Two more tiny blocks went onto the table.

"A hexagon, now."

Even with six blocks, Rahl arranged them more easily than he had at first with only three.

"Just stand there and relax for a moment while I set up the next exercise. Don't ask any questions."

Rahl took a slow deep breath in the darkness and blotted his forehead with the back of his hand. He couldn't help wondering what was in the bucket Taryl lifted and tilted. Something poured out with a rustling sound. Sand?

Taryl lifted another bucket, but this time Rahl could sense that it held water. The second bucket was only partly full, and Taryl set it on the table.

"Use just enough water to moisten the sand. I want you to make a small square wall with the wet sand. Use your hands and fingers for the first side."

Rahl had an idea what was coming, but he separated the sand into two piles, moistening one, and saving the other in case he used too much water inadvertently. When it felt damp enough to hold together, he formed a crude wall the length of his hand.

"Support the inside of the next wall with order, but use your fingers on the outside…"

When Rahl finished following Taryl's instructions-completing the last wall strictly with order-he was not only sweating again, but his shoulders ached.

"Now…" continued Taryl. "I assume you've seen what happens when sand castles dry in the sun."

"Yes, ser. They hold their shape in a way, but if there's any wind

…"

"Good. I want you to use order to move the water, just the water, out of the sand in the walls you built on the table. Don't ask why or how. You can do it. Just do it."

Rahl didn't even know where to start, but he thought of the water as if it were made of little tiny boxes, and he concentrated on moving it a "box" at a time. Surprisingly, to him, it seemed to work, but it was a tedious process. Finally, he straightened. "I think… I think I did it."

"Good." Taryl sounded pleased, for the first time. "That's all you should do here today."

Rahl had to agree. He felt as though he'd walked kays and kays carrying half a score of his father's heaviest tomes.

Taryl walked around the table past Rahl and opened the door. "We're not done."

Rahl didn't ask who would clean up the mess, but turned to follow Taryl.

At the door, Taryl extended his hand. "Here are the blocks. You'll need to practice every night for a while."

"Yes, ser."

"Do you understand what you've done?" Taryl asked as he walked toward the narrow staircase.

"I've used order to move things around."

"Exactly. You know how, now, but you'll have to practice to gain strength. Not many mage-guards can do what you just did. Do you know what was important about the water and the sand?"

"Besides moving it? No, ser."

"You proved you can sense and handle water. That means you have some ability with the weather."

Rahl frowned. What did water have to do with weather?

Taryl stopped. "I can see that we'll have to work on certain parts of your education. For the moment, I'll just say that all weather is created by just two things-the heat and light of the sun and the water in the oceans and the air. You've seen a kettle boil, haven't you?"

"Yes, ser."

"Well, that's what the sun does to the ocean except it's slower, and we can't see it. If you put a piece of cold, cold iron over a kettle spout, do you know what happens?"

"Water appears."

"That's what happens when warm air from the oceans meets the high mountain peaks or cold air coming from somewhere else. That's the basis of weather."

"I could be a weather mage?" Like Creslin?

"I don't know, but you certainly should be able to learn to read the weather."

Taryl hurried up the steps, and Rahl had to scramble to follow him, but Taryl said nothing more until they were outside the building and headed toward the stables. Then he glanced toward Rahl. "What about the healer in Nylan? Are you still interested in her?"

"I was thinking about writing a letter, but I didn't think posting it here…"

Taryl nodded. "You're already understanding. Don't post it here, not if you don't want everyone to know what's in it. Oh, no one will open it, but some of the chaos types have skills that can reproduce the writing without breaking the seal, and as my assistant, those beholden to Cyphryt, or some others, will certainly wish to know your thoughts. You can post it somewhere on the way when we leave here. That would be best."

"I'd wondered."

"You won't return to Recluce, you know?"

Rahl looked hard at Taryl.

"I didn't say you wouldn't be able to," replied the older mage. "I said you wouldn't, and you know that as well as I do. It's too small for you already."

"She said that, too."

"Your healer?"

"She's not mine."

"But you wish she were."

Rahl thought for a moment. "Not in that way. I can't ask her to join me here." He laughed, ironically. "I don't even know that she could."

"Like mages, healers are always welcome, and while the mage-guards sponsor them, they don't have to become mage-guards."

"If I wrote her that… that would be a request."

Taryl nodded. "It would be. Especially now, but don't hesitate to let her know how you feel."

Rahl caught a sense of what almost felt like regret from Taryl, but he didn't wish to pry. "I'll have a letter ready for when we leave and can post it."

"That would be best."

Neither spoke as they neared the stables. Then, as they passed through the open doors, the older mage-guard nodded to the ostler who stepped forward. "We aren't riding. Rahl just needs to get more familiar with the horses."

The woman nodded and stepped back. "You might try the big chestnut gelding in the corner. That stall makes it easy to get to the manger. He likes almost everyone."

"Thank you." Taryl smiled, turning toward the southeast corner of the stables.

Even before they reached the farthest stall, the chestnut was turning his head, trying to greet them. Taryl moved along the wooden side of the stall. "You like company, don't you? In a moment, you'll get a treat. Yes, you will." He looked to Rahl. "I want you to try to sense what the horses feel. It will help you with riding, and I have the feeling that we'll be riding more than a little in the seasons ahead." Taryl produced a pearapple and a small knife. He cut a slice off the pearapple, most carefully, then handed it to Rahl.

"Offer it to him on the flat of your palm. You're less likely to get nipped that way. Don't force any feelings. Just leave your order-senses open."

Rahl stepped forward, pearapple ready.

The chestnut's muzzle was soft, and he lifted the slice of pearapple almost delicately.

Rahl thought he could sense… something.

"Wait a moment before you give him another." Taryl handed another slice to Rahl. Rahl held it in the hand away from the chestnut.

The gelding tossed his head, then nuzzled Rahl's empty hand.

Rahl smiled. He could definitely sense something akin to impatience.