Ordermaster

VI

Threeday passed, and so did fourday. Kharl found nothing else of use in The Basis of Order. On fiveday, right after breakfast, in the chill of the spring morning, under a gray sky with high clouds, Kharl stood in the front courtyard of the Great House, studying the walls, only about five cubits high and but a double course of stone in width-designed to keep out casual intruders, but certainly not an attacking force. But then, Hagen had already pointed out that it would be foolish-both politically and practically-for the rebels to begin with an open attack within the general confines of Valmurl.

“Good day, ser Kharl.”

The mage turned. Undercaptain Charsal stood ten cubits away.

“Good day, undercaptain. What news do you have?”

“No more than you, probably. No one’s moving armsmen toward Valmurl yet. Lord Malcor leveled Lord Vertyn’s country place because Vertyn voiced support for Lord Ghrant. Folk are worried about fighting. Most in Valmurl support Lord Ghrant.” Charsal shrugged. “Then, they might well be telling me that because they know I do.”

“What about the factors?”

“My cousin works for Gessryn. He’s a small wool factor. He says thatall the factors are upset about what happened to Guillam. Half are mad at Guillam, dead as he may be, because he thought only of himself. The other half are mad because they think Lord Ghrant and the other lords want to tariff them more heavily … and keep all the power to themselves.”

“No one thinks about the people or Austra?”

Charsal laughed. “Have they ever, ser mage?” He nodded. “Need to be reporting to Commander Norgen.”

Kharl returned the nod and watched as the young undercaptain hurried toward the main entrance to the Great House. The mage took a last look at the low walls and turned, making his way through the side service entrance and along the back corridors he was beginning to learn until he reached Hagen’s chamber.

The two men in yellow and black were new to Kharl, but the shorter inclined his head. “Ser mage, would you be wanting to see Lord Hagen?”

“If he’s not with someone.”

The guard turned, knocked once, and said, “The mage to see you, lord-chancellor.”

“Have him come in.”

The guard opened the door, and Kharl entered. The guard closed the door behind Kharl.

Hagen sat behind the table desk, a map spread before him. “Sit down, Kharl. Please.” He returned his attention to the map, then dipped the metal pen into the inkpot and wrote something on the long paper set to one side of the map. He continued to make notes for a quarter glass or so. Finally, he looked up.

“Undercaptain Charsal told me that Malcor had destroyed Lord Vertyn’s estate,” Kharl said.

“He did,” Hagen replied. “He also killed Vertyn and his eldest son. The middle son is a junior captain under Norgen.”

“Charsal said no one was moving toward Valmurl. What is Malcor doing?” asked Kharl.

“Word is that he and Lord Kenslan look to be marching northward toward Lord Lahoryn’s lands.”

“If they attack Lord Lahoryn, is that a battle?” asked Kharl. “Will Lord Ghrant see it so?”

Hagen looked sharply at Kharl. “You have something in mind?”

“I do. I don’t like it, but what is … is.”

“Go ahead, ser mage.”

“It’s simple, honored lord-chancellor. As a mage, that is, with what I know now, I can do very little against companies and armies. I can sometimes do a great deal against individuals. In most battles, lots and lots of armsmen get killed and wounded. Most of the time the commanders and lords don’t, not from the little I’ve seen and what the armsmen say.”

“That’s true, but once you leave the Great House, you’re going to be the target of every crossbow that Malcor and his allies can find.”

“That’s if they know I’m leaving.”

Hagen looked at Kharl. “That could still be very dangerous. Why are you volunteering for something like this?”

Kharl laughed, a sound holding amusement and irony. “If Lord Ghrant is overthrown, after all that I’ve already done, how long before I’m dead or skulking down alleys looking over my shoulder-or back at sea on a vessel far worse than the Seastag?″

“Not long, I’d judge.” Hagen’s smile was sympathetic. “So you want to increase the stakes for Lord Malcor and the discontents? Is that it?”

“They’re the ones causing the troubles, aren’t they?”

“Depends on who’s talking.”

“From what I’ve seen, Lord Ghrant’s biggest problem is that he doesn’t look or talk like a leader. He’s not out making free with every girl, and he’s not lining his pockets with everyone else’s coins. Or have I missed something?”

“No. Ghrant doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He just wants his comfortable life to go on, and he doesn’t want to be betrayed or removed.”

“That’s more reasonable than most lords,” Kharl said dryly.

“You have a high opinion of rulers,” Hagen replied dryly. “So high that I’m surprised that you suggested this … expedition.”

“Will things get better for what I need to do if I wait?”

“No.” Hagen took a deep breath.

“Do you know if they have any wizards or mages?”

“No one has said anything about wizardry. If Malcor was supporting Ilteron, there might be another white wizard from Hamor around. Supposedly, there were two left, but there’s been no sign of either yet.”

Kharl had hoped there weren’t any, but he’d have to deal with whatever was, wizards or not. He still didn’t like the thought of running up against a powerful white wizard. There was so much he still didn’t know.

“Charsal knows the area. What about sending you with him and a squad on what look to be road patrols? You’d have to wear Ghrant’s personal livery, the yellow and black.”

Kharl fingered his beard. He’d considered going alone, dressed as a carpenter, but carpenters couldn’t afford mounts, and it took a long time to walk anywhere. “That might be best.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know?”

“I know. But what I might have to do later, if I don’t, could be worse.”

“I’ll see if Charsal is willing, and then the three of us can talk about where you should go and which roads and lanes to take.”

Kharl nodded. He didn’t like the idea much. He just liked far less what he feared would happen if he didn’t act soon.