L. Modesitt - Natural Ordermage

At some point, Rahl fell asleep in the canvas chair, only to wake with the sun well past midafternoon.

“You certainly slept the day away,” said Talanyr, standing beside Rahl, wearing dry, but somewhat wrinkled khakis.

“Whatever I did tired me out more than I knew.” Rahl sat up gingerly. Once again, he was stiff, if not quite so much as he might have been. He slowly rose from the chair.

At that moment, the potter reappeared.

“We should go, Kesyn,” Talanyr said, adjusting his khakis.

“You do not have to go.”

“My friend has recovered, and so have my clothes,” replied Talanyr with a laugh.

“May order surround you and shield you, and may the strength of chaos defend you both.” The potter stepped forward and threw his arms around Rahl. “I cannot thank you enough for my daughter, but you must know that I would have given anything that I possess to save her.”

Rahl couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. “We did what anyone should have done.”

“Anyone did not save my daughter,” announced Kesyn, stepping back. “You did.” In turn, he embraced Talanyr. “Young mage-guards, you are what makes Hamor great, and may the Emperor reward you as I cannot.”

Eysla stepped forward shyly from around her father’s legs, then inclined her head. “Thank you.”

Rahl smiled at the girl. “You are welcome, but please be careful around the river.”

She smiled nervously, clinging to her father’s trousers.

Rahl stepped back, not wishing to frighten her.

As Rahl and Talanyr walked back toward the market square, Rahl heard a clinking, and it was coming from him. He frowned, then put his hand in his single trouser pocket. He felt coins and drew them out. There were three silvers. How? He shook his head. Kesyn. It had to have been the potter, when he’d hugged Rahl before they’d left.

“Talanyr…Kesyn slipped these in my pocket.”

“I know. I saw.”

“I can’t take them. I’ll have to give them back.” Rahl stopped.

Talanyr touched his shoulder. “You can’t. You’ll insult him, and what you did isn’t against the Codex. You healed his daughter. She’d have died without you. Kesyn knows that. That’s why you were the one who got the silvers.”

“I couldn’t have done anything without you. I can barely swim.”

“Take the favor fate gave you, Rahl. Chaos knows you’ve had little enough favor lately. I was just glad we saved her.”

The slight roughness in Talanyr’s voice gave Rahl pause. Taryl had compared the girl who had been near the vendors and the thieves to Talanyr’s sister. Rahl decided against probing something that painful. Instead, he looked at the silvers, then back in the direction of the potter’s shop and dwelling. Kesyn was a proud man, but he shouldn’t have given Rahl the silvers, but…if Rahl was too proud to take them…He smiled wryly and placed the silvers in his belt wallet. He did have a use for them.

“I’m glad you’re not that stubborn,” said Talanyr. “I’d heard that most mages from Recluce were insufferably stiff.”

“Some are,” Rahl conceded. His thoughts went to Puvort and Kadara, with their more orderly than thou attitudes, their insistence on there only being one way.

Suddenly, Rahl found his fists clenching and his entire body so tight that every sore muscle was even sorer. How could they be that smug? That certain?

Then, he stood alone, isolated, all his order-senses gone.

“Are you all right?”

Rahl stopped, slowly taking a deep breath, then another. He’d gotten so angry that the rage had almost taken him over-and he’d lost his order-senses. For a moment, he closed his eyes. What could he think of? Something warm, peaceful…

Deybri came to mind, and he concentrated mentally on creating her image in his mind, the waves in her brown hair, her smile, the gold-flecked brown eyes, the clear skin, and her warmth. He tried to picture her as he’d first seen her, in the mess at Nylan.

As his rage receded under that remembered warmth, he could feel his order-senses returning, if not completely.

“What was that all about?” asked Talanyr. “You just stopped and closed your eyes. Are you hurt?”

Rahl shook his head. “No…well, not…” He shook his head again. “It’s hard to explain, except that…trying to regain what I once had isn’t easy. Even keeping it isn’t easy, either.”

“I’m amazed at what you have done,” Talanyr said quietly. “Not many escape the drudge jobs of the ironworks, and very few become mage-guards.”

“I’m just a mage-clerk,” Rahl pointed out.

“That’s still a great accomplishment, and you will be a mage-guard. Taryl wouldn’t spend so much effort on you if he didn’t think so.”

Rahl had his doubts, not about Taryl’s efforts, but about whether anyone besides Taryl would see it that way.

“We need some dinner,” Talanyr said. “Especially you.”

“I could use something to eat.”

They both laughed.

Rahl was up early on threeday, washed, shaved, and dressed well before breakfast. He looked over the letter he had taken two nights to compose and that he had finally written out in a final fair copy the night before. His eyes scanned the careful script that he had fitted on one small sheet.

My dear healer,

I am writing you for several reasons, the first of which is to tell you that the past does indeed have a hold upon me, one far stronger than even I would have believed possible, especially on that night when you uttered those words. Your image and memory have indeed redeemed me, though in ways you well might find ironic.

The second reason is to ask you to let others know that I have survived leaving the Merchant Association in Swartheld and, so far, the ironworks of Luba where I am now a clerk and working with order for further advancement in due course. What the future will bring exactly I cannot say, but I hope to convey such events in future letters, although they needs must be infrequent and brief.

Rahl had debated saying more about Shyret and what had happened, but, again, he had no proof. Without it, especially in a letter, there was no way he would convince anyone in Recluce what had really happened.

The third reason is to implore you, if you find it in your heart, to send word to my parents, Kian and Khorlya, scrivener and basketweaver in Land’s End, some word that I am indeed well. I can only promise that when possible I will reimburse you for every copper or silver it may cost, and I would have done so myself, save that it has taken all that I have earned this season-and that is all that I have earned-to pay to send this one letter to you.

He’d debated many closings to the letter, but finally had written, “With all gratitude and affection.” He hadn’t wanted to be overly demonstrative, but neither had he wished to be matter-of-fact. He thought of Deybri every evening in the darkness. He did worry that he might just be thinking of her because he’d met no one else, and because, in such circumstances, absence did make the heart pine. Yet he thought it was more than that, but how could he know?

Finally, he folded the letter and slipped it into the standard envelope for Hamorian post. Then he made his way to the station’s duty desk.

“Ser?” he said politely.

“Yes,” replied Rymaen, the mage-guard holding the duty until after breakfast.

“I’d like to post this letter.” Rahl extended the envelope.

“To Recluce? That’s a far piece,” observed Rymaen. “Let me see…that’s three silvers and a copper for delivery in Nylan. Be four and two for Land’s End.”

Rahl handed over the coins.

“You must have saved every coin you could. She must be special.”