Natural Ordermage

XCIV

Oneday was far different from eightday. Even by midmorning, the piers were crowded with wagons and vendors, unlike the comparative handful of sellers on eightday. There was actually a cool breeze, and the sky was bright and clear. While Rahl was grateful for the cooler and drier weather, he worried about the Jeranyi vessel still hulking at the end of pier two, with yet another set of clean-shaven guards. The diffuse white chaos that enfolded the ship seemed unchanged.

“Still the same,” noted Myala. “They’re waiting for something. That something won’t be good.”

Rahl didn’t think so, either, but what could he say, especially as a very junior mage-guard who’d been warned away from looking into his own past too closely?

As they moved away from the far end and toward the base of pier two, Rahl caught sight of the captain walking toward them, on the far side of the small tent of a vendor who was grilling kebobs of ground and spiced meat. Gheryk continued to stroll casually toward the two mage-guards before stopping and smiling broadly.

“Myala…keep on your patrol. I need a word with Rahl, and then I’ll send him back to you.”

“Yes, ser.”

Rahl could sense her puzzlement, but he was more worried about the deeper feeling of irritation and concern that Gheryk was trying to conceal behind his shields.

“The tariff enumerator wanted to know if something was happening.” Gheryk looked at Rahl with a faint smile. “I thought I told you just to watch things for a while, until you knew more.”

“Yes, ser. I haven’t pried around the Nylan Merchant Association, ser. But…the other day, when I was on the piers-Carlyse sent me out, ser-there was a teamster cleaning up some broken amphorae, and they had vinegar in them. The smell reminded me of something I’d forgotten.”

“Go ahead.” The captain’s voice was neutral.

“Just before everything happened last year, I’d noticed that the Merchant Association had received some barrels of Feyn River pickles. I remembered that because of the smell of vinegar that was spilled on the pier on sixday. I couldn’t help thinking about it, because the Association never shipped pickles, and I’d asked Daelyt-he was the head clerk. He said they’d come off a Jeranyi ship. I never had a chance to do anything, but I wanted to find out if he was telling the truth.”

“Was he?”

“Yes, ser,” Rahl admitted. “Three Jeranyi ships sent the warehouse pickles. That was what I found out from the enumerators’ manifests. Ten barrels each.”

“What does that mean to you?”

“I don’t know, ser. Except with the valuations, no one could make coins on pickles.”

“So the head of the Association was part of a Jeranyi smuggling operation. Not all that smart of him. He’s taking all the risks, and that leaves them in the clear. No wonder you ended up in Luba.”

“Yes, ser.” Rahl wanted to say that he knew there was more, but he couldn’t even guess what that might be.

“We’ll watch for that, and I’ll ask the enumerators to let me know if any Jeranyi ships off-load pickles or anything in small quantities.” Gheryk smiled almost paternally. “You’ve got a good head for this sort of thing, but you need more experience. You’ve told me, and that’s fine…but don’t do any more snooping. Just watch the ships and the piers and tell me. You understand?”

“Yes, ser.”

“Good. Now…get back on your patrol with Myala, and if she asks, and she will, tell her I was giving you another standard talk about not seeing smugglers tied to every bollard.”

“Yes, ser.” Rahl nodded politely. He could sense that the captain, while mollified to some extent, was still worried and irritated.

Myala was watching as another Hydlenese ship was maneuvering into the south inshore berth on pier three when Rahl caught up with her.

“What was that all about?”

“The captain was giving me a talk about not seeing smugglers tying up at every bollard. He also said to listen to you and not to say much until I know more.” That was mostly true, and Rahl had the feeling that, for all of her other strengths, Myala was not that good at reading feelings.

“Good advice.” She laughed, a harsh bark, and gestured toward the sleek modified schooner. “See that rig? They can put on enough sail to run down anything-or outrun most anything. It’s probably one of those pirate-smugglers that the captain told you not to look too hard for. We can’t do anything unless they break the Codex, but the crews are usually more trouble.”

She started toward the end of the pier, skirting past a vendor, when Rahl sensed pain and fear. He turned, sensing a man wrenching something from a girl behind the tent.

He sprinted toward the base of the pier, at an angle, pulling his truncheon out. The two teamsters beside a wagon jumped out of his way, as did several others.

“Thief! Thief!”

“That way!”

The man dashed toward the side of the pier, then saw Rahl. For an instant, his face froze, until he saw the truncheon, and out came two long knives. He rushed Rahl in a headlong attack.

Rahl barely had to move, stepping to his left, and striking hard enough to snap the bone above the wrist on the arm nearest him. The pain froze the man for an instant, and that was enough for Rahl to use the truncheon a second time. The second knife clanked on the stone.

Even so, the man staggered and tried to lurch away.

Rahl clipped him on the skull, pulling the blow slightly, but with enough force that the combination of order and impact was enough to leave the thief sprawled on the stone.

Rahl rolled him over and pried the purse from his limp fingers, then stood.

At that point, Myala arrived.

She looked at the two teamsters. “You two! Carry him to the gaol. Rahl, here, will show you the way. Rahl, you can write up the report there. Then go to the pier gate and wait with Hegyr, and I’ll pick you up there. It won’t hurt to have two mages there. If there’s anyone else, you might be able to sense it.”

Rahl nodded, then handed her the purse. “He took this from a girl in the tent by the vendor we were passing.”

“I’ll get it back to her.”

Rahl turned to the teamsters and gestured. They lifted the limp figure and followed him. As he led them across the base of the pier, he realized that no one on the pier had said anything, and that all the locals had scattered out of his way. That suggested that the mage-guards weren’t that averse to using chaos-flame with bystanders nearby.

Once they reached the gaol, Rahl held the door for the teamsters, who lowered the thief onto the tiles and departed the building as quickly as they could.

The duty gaoler looked at the limp figure laid on the floor of the entry to the gaol, and the crooked arm, then at Rahl, who still held his truncheon. “Another idiot. Lucky he ran into you, rather than one of the chaos types.” After a pause, he added, “You need to fill out the report.”

“You’ll have to help me. I can write it, but I don’t know the form. This is my first eightday.”

The gaoler shook his head and took a sheet from the small file case on the table. “You have to learn, but the older ones always do this. Most of the spaces tell you what to fill in…”

After Rahl finished writing out the gaol report, including the details on the theft and his own actions, he signed the form, and two more guards carted the still-unconscious thief through an archway and to a cell. Then Rahl left the gaol and made his way back toward the pier station, where Hegyr was monitoring wagons and pedestrians.

As he neared the pier mage-guard, Rahl observed the undercaptain talking to Hegyr. Before Rahl could do more than smile, Craelyt turned and left Hegyr, drawing Rahl well away from the street. “Young Rahl, it’s good to see you out here on the piers. Where have you been? I don’t see Myala.”

“I just took a thief to the gaol, ser.”

“Still alive?”

“I saw him first and took him down with a truncheon.” Rahl smiled wryly. “I did break one arm and knocked him out.”

“That’s what you’re supposed to do. You filled out the report?”

“Yes, ser.”

“I understand you were over at the tariff enumerators’ on sevenday.”

“Yes, ser.”

“I had another question for you. Isn’t it rather ambitious to think you can detect smuggling after just a week at the duty desk?”

“I wasn’t trying to detect smuggling, ser, but I wanted to see what sorts of cargoes the Jeranyi were declaring. Everyone has been saying how dangerous they are, and…I just thought…” Rahl offered a hopeless shrug. “Anyway, ser, the captain already set me straight, ser.”

Craelyt laughed, a soft sound that was somehow warm, yet without humor. “Just remember, Rahl, we do see more than what might appear, even with outland trading houses.”

“Yes, ser.”

Craelyt clapped Rahl on the back. “Good work with the thief. Just keep to the piers, and you’ll do fine.” The undercaptain smiled again, then walked briskly away, in the direction of the mage-guard station.

As he stood there for a moment, Rahl felt the slightest chill, warm as the fall sunlight was. There was something about the undercaptain…more than the shields that hid everything personal about him. But what could Rahl do?

He shook his head and walked to join Hegyr.

“What did the undercaptain want, if I might ask?” murmured the other mage-guard from where he sat on the raised chair, his eyes on the wagon approaching the piers.

“He wanted to know what I was doing away from Myala. I took a thief to the gaol. So he decided to encourage me to keep paying attention to what I learned on the piers.”

“Sounds like the undercaptain. Always wants us to stick to the job at hand. ‘You’ve got enough to do handling your own duties. Don’t try to do anyone else’s.’”

Rahl had to work to keep from laughing at Hegyr’s imitation of the undercaptain’s false-hearty tone.