L. Modesitt - Natural Ordermage

The armsmaster stepped back and turned to Craelyt. “The report on his skills with a truncheon is more than accurate. At least, with truncheon against truncheon.”

“Let us see about staffs,” said the undercaptain.

Boltyk produced two staffs, padded, if lightly. Rahl took the one that was slightly shorter because he liked the feel and balance better. He set his truncheon on the bench beside his cap.

After two rounds, the results were similar.

“I’d like you to defend against a practice blade, next,” said Craelyt.

“In that case, ser, might I use a practice truncheon?”

“Take mine,” suggested Boltyk.

In the two rounds with the truncheon against the blunted practice falchiona, Rahl managed to keep the other’s blade from ever hitting him and disarmed Boltyk both times.

Rahl had to keep his emotions under shield and to avoid smiling in satisfaction as he inclined his head to the armsmaster. “Ser…if you require more…”

“I think you’ve answered any doubts the armsmaster might have had about your abilities, Rahl.” Craelyt smiled warmly.

Rahl caught the sense of consternation and dismay from Boltyk. The doubts, if there had ever been any, had not been those of the armsmaster, or at least, not primarily or exclusively his.

“If you have no further use for me here, sers, the piers are crowded today, and there are three Jeranyi vessels out there…”

“Oh…of course, you should return to duty,” said Craelyt.

“Thank you, ser.” Rahl retrieved his visor cap and truncheon and stepped outside, leaving the door just barely ajar. There was a slight breeze, one that felt more than welcome after the closeness of the exercise room. He paused, extending his order-senses, to see if either man would reveal anything.

“…better than any bravo on the streets with his weapons. No one here can touch him, except maybe Gheryk.”

“…still worry about his standing up to chaos,” replied Craelyt.

“…something that goes with being a mage-guard…”

“…later, then…”

Rahl quickly moved away from the gaol building and walked swiftly toward where the pier mage-guard would be stationed. He glanced to the west. There, the sun was barely above the hills behind the far side of the harbor, and the handful of warships at the naval piers were already in shadow.

As he hurried along the side of the crowded road, peddlers and even teamsters moved or slowed to let him pass, but his progress was still slower than he would have liked. Ahead of him he could see a Nylan Merchant Association wagon moving past Caersyn rather than Hegyr. He looked farther south and thought he saw the other wagon. While he did not want to sprint after it, he moved even faster. From what he could tell the wagon held only barrels-pickle barrels; but they didn’t quite feel like pickle barrels, although he could smell the faint odor of vinegar long before he reached the pier-guard station.

There, he found Caersyn. “I didn’t know you had pier duty.”

“I don’t, not usually. Hegyr got so sick this morning that the undercaptain asked me to fill in.” Caersyn’s eyes remained fixed on the next wagon that was headed past him toward the piers.

“Have you seen any Nylan Merchant Association wagons?”

“There was one a bit ago. There may have been more, but I don’t pay much attention to whose wagon it is, just what’s on it.”

Rahl could sense the evasions behind the other’s words.

Whhsttt! A chaos-bolt flew from somewhere.

Rahl strengthened his shields, but, even so, was rocked back, and barely managed to avoid crashing into the stone pier that held the mage-guard’s chair.

Whhstt! Whsstt! Whsst!

For a moment, it seemed as though chaos-bolts were everywhere, and most of them seemed aimed at Rahl, although his shields held. Screams and yells added to the confusion, and the handfuls of people on foot near them scattered. The teamster who had just driven his wagon past Rahl and Caersyn struggled to keep control of his team.

The chaos-bolt attack ended as suddenly as it had begun, but by the time Rahl gathered himself together, he could detect no sign of free chaos…or of a chaos-mage. Either that, or the mage had such tight shields that he or she was effectively invisible to Rahl’s order-senses.

Caersyn held on to the chair in which he had been seated. He leaned to one side, looking dazed. Rahl glanced past the stone post that anchored one of the iron gates to the piers, not that Rahl had ever seen it closed, and along the wall beyond it. He thought he sensed something, but he was looking for the duty pier guards, and they were nowhere around, either, and that was unusual.

The faintest scraping sound alerted Rahl, and he turned to see six men in worn blue moving toward him from behind a donkey cart. Two had sabres, rather than falchionas, and one carried something like a billhook, while the other three had cudgels. Rahl glanced toward Caersyn, but the mage-guard lay sprawled in his seat, moving slightly. Rahl couldn’t very well leave, although that would have been the sensible thing to do had he been there alone.

Rahl had the truncheon out and immediately charged the man with the billhook before the man could lift the heavy weapon. Rahl got well inside both blade and hook. The truncheon went into the man’s throat, and Rahl’s knee into his groin. The billhook clattered on the stone.

Then Rahl dodged the wild swing of a cudgel and struck across the fellow’s forearm, reinforcing the blow with order.

He danced back, away from a wiry bravo with a sabre. Unlike the others, the man was at least a passable blade, and Rahl had to deal with him while trying to avoid the others as they closed on him.

The other blade darted toward Rahl.

Whssst! Whsst! Two chaos-bolts slammed into the second blade, and he went down.

A weaker chaos-bolt burned the shoulder of a cudgel-wielder.

The remaining blade danced to one side, as if to keep Rahl between him and whatever chaos-mage was coming to Rahl’s assistance. He moved again, and Rahl struck. The sabre went flying, but before Rahl could move to disable him, another chaos-bolt, one of the weaker ones, caught him full in the face, and he pitched forward onto the stone pavement.

Rahl turned.

Myala stood less than fifteen cubits away.

The man who had carried the billhook was dead. So were the two blades. The others had run off.

Myala looked at Rahl. “For an ordermage, you’re not bad.”

“I’m very thankful you arrived.” Rahl looked up the mage-guard chair, where Caersyn sat, still looking slightly dazed. “Are you all right?”

“I will be…” Caersyn shook his head. “That first chaos attack…it took a lot out of me. I could barely get those last two off.”

“Chaos attack?” asked Myala.

“I thought I’d wait for you here,” Rahl said. “We’ve always done that before. Just after I got here, someone fired chaos-bolts at us. Then, right after that, those six came in.”

“Against two mage-guards?”

“Caersyn was knocked out for a bit,” Rahl explained. “They must have sent most of the chaos against him. I don’t know where the pier guards went.”

“One had gone to relieve himself, and the other started running when the chaos started to fly,” Caersyn said. “I saw that.”

“We’ll take the pier,” Myala said, looking at Caersyn. “You’re in no shape to finish your duty. You go find the undercaptain or the captain and tell him what happened. Have the guards send out another pier guard.”

“Probably best that way,” Caersyn admitted. “You’re sure?”

“What else can we do?” asked Myala. “It’s getting toward sunset, and the piers are clearing anyway.”