L. Modesitt - Natural Ordermage

“I don’t believe anyone will be getting anyone,” added another voice, “and the magisters will indeed take care of matters.” Seemingly from nowhere, Magister Puvort had appeared.

Rahl swallowed hard. He’d sensed the order bolt, and that meant he’d been set up. But why would Puvort do that? Why would a magister use order to encourage Jaired to attack Rahl?

“You…” Rahl thought about asking that question, then closed his mouth. How could he prove it, except by showing he had more order-ability? That might mean he’d broken some other rule. Puvort had already implied that more than minor order-ability required training. No matter what Rahl did, he was in trouble.

Puvort nodded, but only said, “I told you that you needed training.” He turned to the injured growers. “You both need to see the healer. I suggest you start off to her place right now.”

“Yes…magister,” replied Jeason.

Jaired said nothing. He just held his arm gingerly and followed his brother in the direction of the healer’s cottage.

“We’ll wait for your parents,” Puvort said. “They heard the yells, and they’ll be here in a moment.”

“But…”

“Silence. Drop the truncheon.”

Rahl did. He couldn’t see any point in protesting. Who knew what Puvort could do to him? He wouldn’t have put it past the magister to be provoking him. He just didn’t understand what Puvort had against him.

“Rahl!” called Khorlya, coming to an abrupt stop a good dozen cubits from her son as she saw the magister standing there. “What happened?”

Kian was only moments behind. He halted, and his face settled into impassive stolidity when he beheld Puvort, but Rahl could sense both fear and concern behind the facade.

“Your son used order and his truncheon against the two growers,” Puvort said mildly.

“But they attacked me, and there were two of them,” Rahl protested, now that his parents were there.

Magister Puvort smiled sadly. “You could have killed them.” He paused. “You did know that someone killed one of the smuggler’s guards, didn’t you? He was killed with a truncheon.”

“Smuggler’s guard?” asked Rahl. “Who…?”

“Oh, the factor who bought Hostalyn’s place was really a smuggler. He was fronting for the Jeranyi. He found out what was going to happen a day earlier than we’d thought he would.” Puvort looked at Rahl again. “But it didn’t matter.”

“What happened to them?” asked Kian.

“Oh…the smuggler and the guards were executed. They even had barrels of cammabark. What need does an honest chandler or factor have for explosives? At least, they were wetted down with water and vinegar. The two young people were indentured to an Austran merchant. They’ll be leaving on the next ship that comes in bound that way. His agent here has a standing order for those exiles who’ve been involved in wrongdoing and are talented or good-looking.”

Rahl stiffened. He wanted to use his truncheon on the magister, not that he could with it lying on the road. Puvort looked so smug. What were Fahla and Faseyn supposed to do? Turn their father over to the magisters? For not doing that, they were enslaved?

“But Rahl…he might be a father, and he was going to be consorted,” offered Khorlya.

“I’m afraid that doesn’t matter,” said Puvort.

“What do you mean?” asked Khorlya. “Of course it matters.”

Kian winced at his consort’s tone.

“Not now. Rahl used order improperly, and he injured two men. If he hadn’t been attacked, he’d be on trial. He could even have been executed. The Council will make the final decision. But he’ll either be exiled or be on the next Guard wagon to Nylan. He might fit there. If not, he’ll be exiled from Nylan as well. He certainly doesn’t belong here. He’s been given advice a number of times, and he doesn’t seem inclined to listen.”

“But…Jienela…the child?”

“As you said earlier, Khorlya, it takes two. Rahl was telling the truth. Jienela did encourage him, and she, as well as he, should have known better.”

Rahl had been angry before, but he was close to seething. Puvort had known about it all, and he’d been toying with Rahl, like a cat with a mouse, just waiting to set things up so Rahl would be forced to do something that could get himself killed or exiled. Even Jienela was a tool, or so it seemed.

Puvort smiled.

Rahl thought it was a greasy smile, the kind that traveling peddlers used, but he said nothing.

“What are you going to do with Rahl?”

“What is necessary. He’ll be taken before the Council immediately. Then, after the Council decides, he’ll either be released or held at the keep until he’s put on a ship or sent to Nylan. That’s for everyone’s protection.” Puvort looked at Rahl. “As matters stand, I can’t imagine that you won’t be sent to Nylan at the very least.”

“But they attacked me. I was only defending myself,” Rahl protested.

“You used order in your defense, and you injured two men. The use of order is not necessarily forbidden, nor is self-defense, but after Jeason was on the road stones, you broke his wrist. That was unnecessary and showed your lack of control.”

“I was supposed to let him get up and attack me again?”

“Silence. You can tell it to the Council.”

“Can we…see what happens before the Council?” asked Khorlya.

“Council hearings involving order misuse are always closed. I’m sure you can understand why,” replied Puvort smoothly.

Although Rahl could sense the truth of the magister’s words, he had the feeling that Puvort was pleased.

“But…he’s our son,” protested Khorlya.

“If the Council finds against exile or removal to Nylan, you’ll see him this afternoon.”

“If not?” asked Kian.

“You might do well to say good-byes now. Once someone has been found guilty of improper order usage, he cannot be allowed to roam free.”

Khorlya rushed forward and threw her arms around Rahl. He could feel her shivering with silent sobs. Finally, she straightened. “If…if things…don’t…please take care…We love you. We always have.” Then she hung on to him.

Rahl heard the sound of a wagon approaching from behind him.

“If you have anything to say, scrivener…” offered Puvort.

Khorlya released Rahl.

Kian stepped forward and grasped Rahl’s forearms. “Whatever happens, son…we care.” He paused, gathering himself together. “Try to think things out first.”

For a moment they stood there.

Rahl didn’t know what to say. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll do my best. Take care of Mother, and…” He just shook his head. He’d always been able to find words, but at the moment none came to mind.

Puvort cleared his throat.

Kian stepped back.

The magister’s face was impassive, but Rahl still felt that Puvort harbored a hidden inner satisfaction.

The wagon stopped short of Puvort. It was the same type of small black wagon with two seats that had carried Balmor away. A single Council Guard drove.

“Do we need to chain you?” Puvort’s voice was not quite ironic.

“No.” Stunned as he felt, yet furious beneath the shock, Rahl knew that resistance at the moment would be useless. Even if he could escape the magister and the Council Guard, where could he go? Between the magisters and people who didn’t wish to anger them, he’d be tracked down within days, if not sooner, and probably face worse than whatever was about to occur.

“You can be very sensible, Rahl. It’s too bad you weren’t that sensible earlier.”

“He’s barely more than a boy,” protested Khorlya.

“He’s enough of a man to do a man’s work and get a woman with child,” countered Puvort. “That means he’s enough of a man to understand the laws of Recluce. A man doesn’t misuse order without paying for it.”