Natural Ordermage

LXXII

Rahl had enjoyed Talanyr’s tour of Guasyra, and the meal at the Nalyrra, but by the end of eightday, much of what he saw had become a blur, and he had been glad to climb on the wagon that night and ride back to Luba station. He could not remember his dreams, save that they were disturbing and left him feeling apprehensive when he woke.

As soon as he finished breakfast, he hurried to the armory.

The armorer was an older man, uniformed as was Rahl, except with the silver insignia of a falchiona crossed with a truncheon on his collar, rather than starbursts of the mage-guards. He stood behind a low counter and peered at Rahl. “You’re the new one, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ser.”

“No ‘sers,’ young fellow. What do you need?”

“I was hoping you might have a heavier truncheon.” Rahl held up the one he’d been issued. “This…well…I could do a better job with a heavier one.”

“Heavier…hmmm…I might have something…just might…” The armorer turned and walked to the racks in the right-hand rear corner, murmuring to himself. “Now…where was that…saw it the other day…” After several moments, he turned and walked back to the counter. “This one here’s been around ever since I’ve been here, but it’s still solid as the day it was crafted.” The armorer extended a dull black truncheon.

As he took it, for a moment, Rahl thought that it might be like the one he’d been given in Nylan, but he could see that the half guard was a touch thicker and the weapon was a trace longer. Still, there was an iron band below the half guard.

“It’s black oak,” added the armorer. “Only thing better than that is lorken, and I haven’t seen any of that in years.”

“Thank you.” The older truncheon even felt better in his hand.

“Never let it be said that Vymor couldn’t find the right weapon for you.”

“Oh…” Rahl handed the truncheon he’d been issued to Vymor. “I only need one.”

“We’ll find a place for this one, we will. Best you be on with your duties.”

With the effective dismissal, Rahl turned.

Once he got to the copying chamber, he set the truncheon aside and picked up the first report in the stack.

He’d finished both copies of that and was working on the second when Talanyr appeared.

“Thelsyn is going to start asking why I don’t follow your example,” Talanyr said as he took his place at the other end of the copying table.

“Because you already know what I need to learn.”

“You know more than you think you do,” countered Talanyr, “or Taryl wouldn’t have made you a clerk.”

“He just needed someone who could write quickly and accurately.”

“That doesn’t hurt…” Rahl broke off as Thelsyn stepped into the copying room.

“What doesn’t hurt?”

“Writing quickly and accurately, ser.”

“No, it doesn’t, and I imagine that you both could do so with even greater results if your hands were as engaged as your tongues are.”

“Yes, ser.”

The mage-guard walked up to Rahl and inspected the first set of reports, then walked toward Talanyr.

“I just got here, ser.”

“In mind, at least,” Thelsyn said dryly, before turning and departing.

Rahl said nothing, but went back to copying and rewriting the almost illegible report of a mage named Sostrost. He had completed both copies of eight more reports by the time Taryl walked into the copying room in late midmorning, just before midday.

The thin-faced mage held an envelope in his hand as he stopped beside the copy table.

“Ser?”

“Rahl…we did get a report on you.” Taryl offered a tight smile. “There was a Rahl who registered as an outland mage in Swartheld. You didn’t register that you were from Recluce.”

“I’m sorry.” Rahl found his mouth open. “I thought…I mean when I said that I was working at the Nylan Merchanting Association, and I was an outlander, I thought that would have been clear.”

Abruptly, Taryl laughed. “All of the mages or exiles from Recluce seem to think that there aren’t any ordermages or chaos-mages anywhere but in Hamor, Fairhaven, or Recluce, and that most of the mages outside of Recluce are slaves of chaos.” He shook his head. “Still…they didn’t ask you?”

“No, ser. I said that I was an outlander working for the Association as a clerk and that my abilities were limited, but that I’d been told to register.”

“Limited abilities?”

“I told you, ser…about what I could do. I can’t do any of that now.”

“And they didn’t ask more?” persisted Taryl.

“No, ser.”

“They should have asked, but not everyone follows the procedures as closely as they might.” Taryl’s eyes lighted on the black truncheon. He raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t like the issue truncheon?”

“Talanyr and I went to Guasyra yesterday. While we were there…” Rahl went on to explain what had happened. “…and the truncheon I’d been issued just didn’t feel right. So I asked the armorer if he could find me one a little heavier. That isn’t a problem, is it?”

“You took down a thief with two long daggers with just a truncheon?”

“Yes, ser.”

Taryl looked over at Talanyr, who had been trying to remain unobserved. “You had something to do with this?”

“Mage-Guard Chovayt needed assistance, sir. There were four armed thieves there.”

“I see.” Taryl’s voice conveyed a mixture of irony and skepticism.

“They were close to all the vendors, and there was no way to use chaos without hurting them, and there was a little girl.”

“About the age of your sister?”

“Yes, ser.” Talanyr’s voice was subdued.

“Did Rahl face the man with daggers by himself?”

“Yes, ser.”

Taryl turned to Rahl. “Exactly what did you do?”

“I knocked one dagger out of his hand. That took a while. Then I got inside his guard and broke his jaw and maybe his knee joint, ser. He did come after me with the daggers, and he had stolen coins from one of the vendors.”

“Rahl…just how much arms training have you had?”

“My father started me with the truncheon when I was maybe eight, and we sparred a few times every eightday until I left. When the magisters were preparing me for exile, I worked with two of them every day for a season or so, but that was with more than the truncheon.”

“Were they armsmasters or just trainees?”

“They were both armsmasters.”

“Did they train you in dealing with blades and knives against your truncheon?”

“Yes, ser, and with a staff.”

“Hmmm…” Taryl nodded slowly. “Once you know more about the mage-guards…well…we’ll see. I’ll be bringing a book to you later. I want you to read all of it, but I want you to read it carefully as well.”

“Yes, ser.”

“We’ll also see about your sparring with Jyrolt when he comes through at the end of summer.”

Rahl wasn’t sure he liked that possibility, even though Taryl hadn’t said exactly who Jyrolt was.

After Taryl had gone…Rahl thought about the registry. The mage-guard hadn’t asked where he had been from, yet Taryl clearly thought that he should have.

Abruptly, Rahl smiled. He’d sensed that feeling from Taryl.

He also sensed another presence, if vaguely, one he did not see, and that had to be Thelsyn, checking up on them behind some sort of sight shield. Without hurrying, he picked up the next report and set to work, concealing a frown as he did. Why didn’t Talanyr sense the mage-guard, or was the kind of shield Thelsyn was using designed to be more effective against someone trained in Hamor?

As he copied and rewrote the report before him, he tried to get a better sense of what order or chaos concentrations might be around, but as he tried to focus on that, his sense of where Thelsyn was, standing just outside the door, vanished totally.

Rahl tried to keep a pleasant expression on his face, despite the frustration he felt and the slight headache that had appeared with his efforts. With a slow and deep breath, he put his full attention into working on the report before him.

In midafternoon, Taryl reappeared, walking briskly into the copying room. He extended a thin volume bound in faded red leather. “It’s my copy of the Manual of the Mage-Guards. I’ve ordered you a copy, but it’s likely to be an eightday or so before it gets here. Most mage-clerks and beginning mage-guards get them before they’re at a station.”

“I’ll take care of it, ser.” Rahl took the volume.

“I’m sure you will. Besides taking care of it, read it carefully.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Once you get caught up on the reports, we’ll start on evaluating your arms skills and work on training you in techniques and procedures. Part of those procedures, especially the reasons for them, are in the manual, and you’ll be examined on them as well. As I said earlier, the next evaluation will be near the end of summer. If you’re not ready, then the next one will be at the turn of winter.”

“What am I supposed to know, ser?”

“Adequate skills in either blade or truncheon or both, techniques for handling trouble without using force, some basic skills in using order or chaos in support of your duties as a mage-guard, a complete understanding of the role and the duties of a mage-guard in Hamor…as well as the provisions of the Codex that you’ll be enforcing.”

“Is there a copy of that somewhere?”

“The Codex is rather lengthy. I’ll get you a copy of the mage-guard summary. It’s mostly common sense.”

“Thank you, ser.”

Taryl nodded brusquely, then turned and left.

Rahl looked after him. He still wondered why Taryl wanted Rahl as a mage-guard, so much so that Taryl had never actually asked Rahl if that was what Rahl wanted. Was that any different from the magisters of Recluce?

Somehow…Rahl thought it was, even if he couldn’t say why.

He turned and looked at Talanyr. “Will you be evaluated at summer’s end?”

“I’m supposed to be, according to Khaill.”

“He’s the station armsmaster?”

“As close to it as we have.”

“Is it hard?”

Talanyr offered a wry smile. “It’s not easy. Taryl said I wasn’t ready in the spring.”

“What happens if…you don’t do well?”

“Oh…there’s a place for everyone…but some of the places are worse than Luba. Some are better located, but the tasks are terrible. You might end up as a clerk in the Highpoint station.”

Rahl had no idea what that might be.

“It’s the mage-guard station that’s on the highest point of the Great Highway…well…as much of it that’s finished. It’s so high that it snows until the turn of summer, and starts snowing again in early harvest. They don’t send real clerks there, because it’s hard duty, so mage-guards who have minimal skills are rotated in and out to handle the station chores, from copying to standing night watch duty. Up there, you just look for distress fires or trouble and stare out into the darkness…”

Rahl couldn’t help but shudder. If he didn’t recover his order-skills…would that be where he was headed? It was better than being a loader-or slogger-but it certainly wasn’t what he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing.