Mage-Guard of Hamor

LXXXIII

Rahl managed to get back to his small room in the overcommander's barracks with enough time to wash up and don a clean uniform. He did walk the distance to the Residence, if at a leisurely enough pace that he would not arrive overheated. No one questioned him-but no one had in days-when he entered the staff doorway and made his way to the upper level on the south end. He couldn't help but note that the green carpet runners in the staff quarters had seen far better days, and that the plaster walls could have used a fresh coat of whitewash.

He cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and knocked on the goldenwood door. Then he waited. When Deybri opened the door, Rahl couldn't help but stare, thinking how truly alive and luminous she looked in another set of immaculate greens.

"The way you look at a woman makes her the center of the world."

"Not a woman," he protested, taking her hands. "You. Just you."

"I would say that you tell all the women that," she said gently, "and you say it well in Hamorian, but I know better. That's almost frightening."

Rahl was afraid he knew what she meant, but he didn't want to talk about that. Not yet. Then he realized something else. "Your Hamorian is much better. You barely have an accent."

"Uncle Thorl's doing. He said I always had the ability, but that I really didn't want to learn it perfectly."

"I've always known you had many hidden abilities."

"I didn't know you were that interested in my less obvious attributes," she teased.

"I always have been. I must be. I haven't even kissed you."

"I know."

Sometime later, Deybri eased back out of his arms. "We are supposed to have dinner with our superior officer."

"I came for you earlier than we're expected," Rahl confessed.

"You have a devious mind, Senior Mage-Guard."

"Not at all devious," Rahl admitted. "Hopeful."

"We still should go."

"Yes, Healer. Oh…" He extracted the thick envelope from his winter uniform shirt and extended it to her. "This is for you. It's the latest letter-or letters-the ones I could never post because there was no way to send them. I kept writing…"

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, then took the envelope. "I will read them. You write so well, and your hand is so beautiful."

The two walked down the long corridor from the staff quarters and into the formal area of the Residence.

Taryl was standing outside a large archway. He smiled sheepishly. "I forgot to tell you that we'd be eating in the private dining chamber. We'd be lost in here." He stepped aside and gestured toward the darkened formal dining chamber, not that the dimness was any barrier to the three, which held a table that stretched a good twenty cubits, if not longer. Then he turned, and the three walked another fifty cubits and around a corner and through a far smaller archway.

The private dining chamber was still large, holding an oval table that could easily seat ten. Three places had been set at one end. The pale green china plates had silvered edges, and the crystal goblets shone in the light of the polished-bronze wall lamps. The cutlery was also silver.

"This is less pretentious, but not as warm as I'd prefer." Taryl gestured to the seat to his right.

Rahl seated Deybri, even if it was probably against some protocol, since he outranked her, technically anyway. The three had no more been seated than an orderly appeared with a pitcher of wine, half-filling each goblet.

"It's Seblenan, supposedly very good." Taryl smiled. "Prince Golyat did keep a fine cellar, and most of it is still here. It's been years since I've had the privilege of good wine." He lifted his goblet. "To your safe arrival, Healer."

"Thank you."

There was something about the formality with which Taryl addressed Deybri, but Rahl could not quite put a finger on it. Instead, he lifted his own goblet, then sipped the wine, a vintage that was the palest of ambers, holding a flavor that reminded Rahl of roses and pearapples.

The orderly returned with three small bowls of soup. Rahl had never tasted anything like it.

"That's a winter gourd cream soup, isn't it?" asked Deybri. "It's very good."

Rahl had no idea that there were even winter gourds, or soup made from gourds in winter. He just nodded his agreement.

"I promised I would answer any questions you might have, Healer." Taryl looked at Deybri.

She tilted her head slightly, as if thinking, then smiled. "Why is Rahl so important to you?"

Taryl laughed, then shook his head. "I would not wish you opposing me in anything."

Deybri waited.

"I could offer evasions, but you would know them, even behind my shields," Taryl finally replied. "The simple answer is that he is powerful and honest, and that while there are other powerful mage-guards and other honest mage-guards, there are far too few who are both, and Hamor needs those desperately in these times."

"Why is that so? Why now?"

"You know about the revolt. It occurred because powerful and less-than-honest mage-guards persuaded Prince Golyat that he was far better suited to rule Hamor than his younger brother. It also occurred because other powerful and less honest mage-guards wanted a revolt to occur, but to be unsuccessful, and to use it for their own ends. Without Rahl, we would not have accomplished near so much so quickly, and without him, the future is far less certain."

"Is that why you offered me a chance to join him?"

"That is one reason. Another is as I wrote you. Also, you must already have noted that Hamor has far fewer skilled healers than does Recluce. There are other reasons as well, which I will not reveal, but which are honorable, and for which you must take my word for now."

She nodded. "What plans do you have for Rahl if you are successful in quashing the revolt?"

It surprised Rahl that Deybri did not press Taryl on his other reasons, but he said nothing.

"I would like to see him advance as far as he possibly can in the mage-guards."

"Enough to assure that?"

"I will not press others to promote him beyond his abilities or what he has earned, but I will support him fully for what he has earned."

"And for me?"

"The very same, Healer."

At that moment, the orderly removed the soup and replaced each dish with a plate on which were thin slices of beef laid between thinner slices of pastry and covered with a dark mushroom sauce.

"Beef Fyrad," Taryl said. "It's not all that popular these days, but I enjoy it."

So did Rahl, perhaps because he'd been so involved in thinking about Deybri and watching her that he'd forgotten how hungry he was.

"You did read the Mage-Guard Manual?" Taryl asked after several mouthfuls.

"Yes, ser," Deybri replied. "Some of it was… difficult."

Taryl nodded. "It is for most healers. You would not be healers were you not inclined to believe that there is at least a chance to heal most wounds. The Manual as much as states that some individuals can never be redeemed and that they must either be executed or work their lives away in the ironworks, the quarries, or the road crews."

"I can see that. Most in Recluce avoid thinking about that because we exile many and leave their fate to others. We do execute some few, but their offenses are usually great."

Rahl still had his doubts about that latter statement, especially given his experiences with Puvort and the magisters in Land's End, but he saw no point in contradicting Deybri.

"Rahl might disagree," Deybri added, "but I have to believe that his experiences are colored by his own uniqueness."

"Because he is a natural ordermage of the kind Recluce is unable or unwilling to train?" asked Taryl.

"And because he is potentially far more powerful than any of them-or any mage-guards here, possibly with the exception of the Triads. You know that. Wasn't that one reason why you saved him?"

"No," replied Taryl. "When I made him a mage-clerk, he only had a fraction of his true abilities. Later, it became very clear."

Deybri looked at Rahl.

"It's true. I could barely order-sense more than a few cubits away, and I could do nothing else."

"To be honest, however," Taryl added, with a wry smile, "I suspected more because usually only strong mages survive the amount of nemysa that he had to have been given. But I didn't know that."

From that point on, through the dessert of pearapple tarts in flaky crusts, Taryl was careful to keep the talk casual.

After the dessert, Taryl stood. "I must say that I've enjoyed this, and now I must pay for that by getting back to what remains on my desk."

Rahl and Deybri rose.

"Thank you, ser," offered Deybri.

"Thank you," added Rahl.

"It was my pleasure." Taryl smiled, warmly, and anything but mechanically.

Rahl offered Deybri his arm, and they left the small dining chamber and walked slowly down the long corridor toward the staff section and her quarters.

"He was very formal with you," Rahl said.

"It's both a message and a habit, I would say. He didn't strain to remind himself to use my title," mused Deybri.

The Empress?

"You have that look, Rahl. Your face reveals what your shields conceal."

"I don't know, but I think he was once in love with a woman who was consorted to someone else very powerful. I don't think he's ever forgotten her."

"You're being mysterious. Please don't be."

"I'm sorry. It's just… I owe Taryl everything… Everything but you, and now, in a way, I owe him for you. For your being here. I wouldn't want to say anything when I'm only guessing.. but you should know. You probably could guess… You know, he was once a Triad. I think I wrote you that. Well, when we were in Cigoerne, I saw him once with the Empress…"

"The Empress of all Hamor? You met the Emperor and Empress?"

"It was at a reception. Each of them spoke to me for just a moment. The Emperor thanked me for helping with the mission to Nylan."

"What was she like?" Deybri's voice was soft.

"She's a healer, but she doesn't look at all like you."

"A healer… of course. The poor man. The one woman even a former Triad could never have. Not one as honest as Taryl."

"No one has ever said anything," Rahl said quietly, "but I wonder if he gave her up so that the Emperor would be a more able ruler."

"That's… horrible… as if she were…"

"There's more to it than that, but I don't know what. Maybe she loved them both. I can't believe Taryl would trade anyone."

"Maybe she gave up Taryl," suggested Deybri.

"I don't know. He's never said a word. It's only what I saw and felt."

"That's enough, most times." Deybri stopped outside her door and turned to him.

He leaned toward her and kissed her tenderly. She returned the kiss, warmly, lovingly, but also gently, then eased back from him. He could feel her entire body trembling.

Looking at him, she smiled sadly. "Rahl… I would like that more than anything… but we can't. Not now."

He could sense both the longing within her, the sadness, and see the brightness in her eyes. "Could you tell me why?"

"You've become so much more powerful. None of the magisters in Nylan could stand against you now, and you desire me so much…" Her words broke off.

"A child? Is that it?" He'd almost forgotten what she had told him so long ago about how almost any love-making would immediately lead to a child… the same mistake that had begun his exile and the long way he had come.

She nodded, her eyes dropping from his for a moment. "I'm almost sure that we should be together, that it's right. But… with you.. almost isn't enough… and it would never be fair to the child. Please…"

He stepped forward and put his arms around her. Demons, it felt so good even to hold her. He still couldn't quite believe she was with him-in Hamor, where she had said she would never return.

Their faces were damp with tears when he stepped away and opened the door for her. He did not leave until it clicked shut.