L. Modesitt - Natural Ordermage

“You have to.”

“That’s not what I meant. You read them all to see what they mean, and you probably even argue with the ones you think are wrong.”

“You can’t argue with a book,” Rahl said reasonably.

“You know what I mean-”

“Fahla!” A man’s voice called from the storeroom.

“That’s Father. He must need help with something.” Fahla started to turn, then stopped. “Rahl…”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you have enough sense to wear something warm.”

He couldn’t help flushing slightly, thinking that he almost hadn’t.

“Good day, Rahl.”

“Good day, Fahla.”

As she turned, Rahl shook his head. The whole world seemed to be against his spending any time at all with Fahla. If it weren’t a customer, then it was Kehlyrt wanting something from her, and he’d forgotten to ask her if the chandlery was going to become a factorage, although that question would have just been to satisfy his own curiosity.

As Rahl stepped out of the chandlery, he saw a figure in black at the foot of the two steps leading up onto the narrow porch. Rahl would have preferred not to meet Magister Puvort, but trying to avoid the magister would have been all too obvious. He did step aside to allow the magister direct access to the door. “Good day, magister.”

Instead of heading inside, Puvort stepped onto the porch, under the eaves, and out of the still-light rain, and looked directly at Rahl. “What brings you to the chandlery? Might it be the young lady?” Puvort’s smile was meant to be cheerful, but it bothered Rahl.

“I like seeing her, ser.” Rahl didn’t dare lie, not when the magister could have told he was telling an outright falsehood, but he could tell the truth in a less damaging way. He held up the pouch. “But I was here to pick up the pen nibs my father ordered. He had work to do, and he sent me.”

“You’re very careful in what you say, aren’t you?”

“I try to be, ser.”

“That wasn’t what I meant, Rahl.” The magister’s eyes seemed to look right through the young scrivener. “You never tell an untruth, but sometimes you don’t tell the whole truth. That’s what the mages in Hamor do, you know?”

“Ser?” Rahl didn’t like the reference to Hamor.

“You might think about applying to the Council for mage training, Rahl. It’s clear that you have at least a little ability with ordermagery. You know instinctively that you shouldn’t lie, and you’re right. Lying reduces order-skills.”

Rahl didn’t know quite what to say. “I…I never thought about that.”

“You should. Right now, your skills aren’t developed enough to be that dangerous, but you’re still young. If you become more powerful, you’ll either have to have training or leave Recluce. You might have to, anyway, but training now would make your life easier. Much easier.”

“Ser…I don’t…my father…”

“That kind of training is not like school where your father has to pay. The Council would pay for it.” Puvort paused. “Of course, you wouldn’t be earning anything, either, but you should still consider it.” His eyes dropped to Rahl’s truncheon, and he nodded slightly.

“Yes, ser.”

“Do think about it, Rahl.” With another enigmatic smile, the magister stepped away from Rahl and into the chandlery.

Rahl stepped off the porch and headed southward, the wind at his back, tearing at his tunic. He had the feeling that, despite the magister’s offer, Puvort hadn’t really wanted him to consider it. Or the magister thought he wouldn’t take it.

Should he tell his father about what Puvort had said?

That didn’t seem like a good idea at all, but he couldn’t have said why, and that bothered him as much as what the magister had told him.

The wind picked up, driving the rain, which had become sleet, into his back.

Rahl walked even faster, almost at a trot. He just wanted to get home and out of the cold. Then, he’d think things over.

Rahl was still working his way through the tedious mathematics text on fiveday afternoon when Kian came hurrying in with a small sheet of paper and a stack of larger and heavier paper posterboards.

“We’ve got a commission from the Council, but it has to be finished before sunset today. Put aside the textbook. You’ll have to help.”

“What is it?” Rahl asked, not that it mattered to him, except that anything would have been less tedious than the page before him. Despite what Fahla had wagered, he hadn’t really read much of the mathematics text, except for the obvious matters like how to calculate areas and volumes, and simple formulae.

More important from his point of view was that a good commission from the Council meant his father would be in a better mood when Rahl said he was going to Sevien’s house after supper.

“Here. You can read the words while I work the spacing and letter size for the posterboards.” Kian handed the thinner, smaller sheet to his son, adding, “They must have gone to every scrivener in Recluce to get these done.”

Whatever the paper said, then, it had to be important. Rahl read it, although he had to struggle in places because the writing was both hurried and cramped. When he finished, his eyes went back to the opening lines.

The Council of Recluce has determined that the frequency and severity of piracy has increased significantly and that such piracy has been largely undertaken by Jeranyi vessels. With the failure of the ruler of Jerans to abate such reprehensible acts…

…all in Recluce are hereby notified that any and all trade and commerce with any vessel bearing a Jeranyi flag or crewed by Jeranyi or owned by Jeranyi is hereby forbidden. Purchase of goods from Jerans is also prohibited, and any merchant or factor holding such goods must dispose of them within an eightday of the date of this notice-or turn them over to the Council for partial compensation. Any trader or merchant from Jerans is to leave Recluce within an eightday of the date of this notice. All who fail to do so may have all goods and coins confiscated, at the determination of a justicer appointed by the Council…

After a moment, he looked toward Kian. “What good will this do? Why don’t they just go out and destroy the pirates?”

“The oceans are vast, and Recluce has but few ships compared to the size of those oceans…” began Kian.

“-and the ships that can catch and destroy the pirates belong to the engineers in Nylan, and they don’t want to spend their time chasing pirates?”

Kian shook his head. “It’s not that simple. They’ve caught and sunk a score of pirate vessels, or so I’ve heard, but some of the pirates fly different flags in every port they enter and change the names on their ships. The important part is the expulsion of the traders. Factors, merchants, and traders account for far more coins than do the pirates, especially those who work with the pirates and sell their plunder.”

“The Council wants the traders to put pressure on the Duke of Jerans to stop the piracy,” Rahl suggested.

“He’s an autarch, I think. Or maybe a consul who theoretically pledges allegiance to Sarronnyn. But they have that in mind. What will happen is that our factors and traders will trade more with those they know and trust and less with those they don’t. They won’t like it, but the magisters will come back and ask them, and if they lie, they’ll be exiled as well.”

“What if they’re honestly mistaken?”

“Then they’ll be warned and watched more closely.”

Rahl wondered what that would do to Fahla and her family.

“Now…I’ll make the first one, and you can use that as a model,” Kian began.

Rahl watched and waited, then began on a third copy while Kian started a second one.