L. Modesitt - Natural Ordermage

“…wish they’d get back…” came from one of the quarterdeck guards.

“…you can see one fire…”

“…thought there should be more…”

A long hiss of steam issued from the stack above the superstructure and aft of Rahl, confirming his suspicions that, despite the quiet appearance, the ship was ready to steam at any moment.

He moved silently across the deck toward an open hatchway, then, sensing no one in the darkness inside, entered. He tried to sense the chaos of powder or cammabark, but within the iron of the vessel, his order-senses were more limited. Another passageway intersected the one he had taken, and it headed aft. Rahl followed it to a ladder leading down. At the base of the ladder, the sense of chaos was stronger…and someone was headed his way.

Holding the light shield tightly around himself, Rahl flattened himself against the bulkhead. The crewman turned his head from side to side, paused, but then continued forward past Rahl, so close that Rahl could feel the faint breeze of his passing. At the next passageway, Rahl turned outboard. After less than ten cubits he stepped through a hatch into a gun bay.

Directly to his right was a heavy cannon. Set inboard and to the left of the cannon was a metal powder locker. Since he could sense no one nearby at the moment, Rahl released his light shield and looked around the gun bays, lit by a single safety lantern set within a metal bracket on the inboard bulkhead. Aft of him was another cannon, also with a locker. There was another cannon forward, but all the lockers were secured with heavy padlocks.

What could he do?

He could hear the massive steam engines beginning to turn over. The Jeranyi captain wasn’t about to wait much longer, and then crewmen would appear to man the guns.

He glanced to the lantern, then walked over to it. He couldn’t duplicate what he’d done at the warehouses, but there just might be another way. He didn’t try to think about it-thinking wasn’t the way for him to handle order. He just slid the retaining clips out, and lifted the lantern, carrying it and setting it down directly beside the powder locker. There, he turned up the wick, adjusting it for the most heat possible.

He studied the heavy lock, then attempted to use order to manipulate the tumblers inside.

Sweat was pouring down his face before he could open the lock and lift the locker lid, propping it open with the attached lever.

He repeated the process with the nearest two other lockers before returning to the first locker and the lantern, where he used his belt knife to help rip and cut a strip of cloth from his undershirt. He sheathed the knife and then pulled the filler plug from the lantern, then threaded the strip of cloth into the reservoir until he held just one end. Next he pulled the cloth from the reservoir and twisted it into a makeshift wick.

He lifted the lantern and held it over the powder bags in the locker, tilting it so that lamp oil fell on the bags, puddling slightly in one spot. He set the lamp on the powder bag next to the oil that was already sinking into the cloth. Then he ran his makeshift wick from the puddle to the reservoir and then up to the top of the lamp mantle, poking it just inside the mantle. Quickly, he wicked up the lamp and turned. While the passageway through the hatch was empty, he decided on caution and raised his light shield, even as he began to move at almost a run.

At the base of the ladder topside, he slammed into a crewman. As the sailor staggered back, Rahl scrambled up the ladder and along the upper passageway, and then out onto the main deck.

“Lines away! All hands to battle stations! All hands to battle stations!”

Behind him, Rahl could sense that his impromptu fuse was burning too fast. The gangway had been lifted, and even if he could jump to the pier, the pier was so wide he wouldn’t be able to reach the far side in time, and he’d be fully exposed to the blast or fire…or both. Yet the ship was so close to the pier that he might well get crushed between the hull and the solid stone wharf wall.

He tried to hurry aft, unseen, trying to follow one sailor, and then another.

“There’s a mage-guard on board…on the main deck aft!”

A whitish powder exploded, and Rahl kept hurrying along the railing, although he could sense that he was covered with something. He dropped the light shield and discovered he was covered with a luminescent powder, like glowing flour.

“There!”

“Get him!”

Rahl flung himself over the railing, scraping against the hull as he fell. He could barely swim, but he didn’t have much choice. The water was chill, despite the warmth of the air, and his entire body spasmed as he plunged under the surface.

A muffled explosion pressed the water around him, and momentary knives stabbed into his ears. Then both subsided, and he struggled to reach the surface.

Flame was everywhere, and he ducked back under the water, trying to struggle away from the ship. He kept paddling until he reached the smooth stone wall of the pier, which he could barely grasp, and pulled himself up just enough to get another breath before using his fingers to push himself under the water toward the base of the pier.

Another quick breath, and he ducked underwater and tried to keep moving toward the shore. He was so light-headed, but he couldn’t give up, not yet. Pull and breathe, and duck, and pull and breathe and duck … pull and breathe …

The water was so deep he couldn’t feel or sense bottom, and he had to keep half-swimming, half-pulling himself toward the base of the pier.

Finally, he was well clear of the flaming hulk that had been a ship, but there was no way he was going to be able to make his way much farther, especially since another vessel was tied up before him, with frantic activity on its deck. Stars pinwheeled across his vision, points of intolerable light and pain.

“There’s someone in the water!”

“It’s Rahl! I knew he was down here…”

“How did he…?”

“The blast must have thrown him into the water.”

“…have to get him out…”

“…not that far from the ladder…”

Rahl strained, trying to find the ladder, and finally seeing the niches carved into the stone, and the iron railing beside them. Slowly, so slowly, he tugged himself to it.

His fingers were raw, and he could hardly grasp the rough iron of the ancient railing. Somehow he managed to get his boots onto one niche, then another…

Hands pulled him up the last steps, and hot darkness swept over him.

“You don’t look back…look back…The past has no hold on you.” The words echoed through the hot darkness, only to be replaced by other phrases, one after another. “He doesn’t seem inclined to listen…not inclined to listen…has to learn everything the hard way…everything the hard way…it’s up to you…life doesn’t provide private tutors…use your skills without thinking…you lack adequate forethought…just keep to the piers…do your own job…always blaming others…whiner…”

The words vanished, only to be replaced by the image of a brown-haired woman in healer green, looking sadly at him even as her image dwindled into the distance and vanished.

Deybri…vanishing once more…

Rahl coughed, then shuddered.

His face felt as though it were on fire and still burned. Slowly, he opened his eyes. He was in an unfamiliar chamber, and it was light outside the single narrow window. How long had he been struggling through the darkness? What had happened?

“You’re awake. Good.” The voice belonged to Hewart, who stepped closer to the bed on which Rahl lay.

“Where…?” Rahl croaked.

“In the infirmary. You’re lucky to be alive. Very fortunate,” Hewart said, looking down at him. “Suvynt said that you’d gone to check on the Jeranyi vessel, or we wouldn’t have been looking for you.”