L. Modesitt - Natural Ordermage

What did Puvort have against him? He’d always been polite to the magister, and he’d never been discourteous, uneasy as the magister had sometimes made him feel. And why had the other magisters gone along?

After a time in the dimness, he looked up. He thought he’d heard footsteps and sensed someone, but so far as he could tell, he was the only one in any of the six cells.

A guard walked by, glanced around, then stopped. He was a different guard from the other three he’d seen in the past day or so.

“You’re Rahl?”

“Yes.” Rahl’s response was careful.

“You got a brother named Kacet?”

“He’s my older brother. He’s at Reflin.”

“Thought so.” The guard shook his head. “You’ll be headed to Nylan tonight, right after dark.”

“After dark?”

“They don’t want folks to see when exiles leave for Nylan.”

“Are there many exiles?”

The guard laughed. “Not many go to Nylan. Maybe one every other eightday. Most get shipped straight to Austra or Candar.”

“Why is that? Do you know?”

“Simple. Folks who are chaos-touched get sent from Recluce right off. Folks who use order wrong get sent to Nylan to see if they fit there. Most don’t, they say. Some go to Lydiar, or Nordla, but most of them get sent to Hamor.” The guard shook his head. “No one in his right mind wants to go there.”

“Why not?” Rahl had never heard anything about that, just that exile was bad.

“If you got chaos or order-abilities there-doesn’t matter which-you’re sort of a high-level slave to the emperor or one of his people. If you’re not chosen for that, you end up in the ironworks at Luba or the quarries.”

“But I didn’t do anything…not really.”

The guard laughed. “Doesn’t matter. Once the Council decides, that’s it. ’Sides, who ever wants to admit they didn’t do quite right?”

“Everyone does something that’s not quite right now and again.”

“Don’t we all?” The guard laughed again. “But the Council decides, not you or me, young Rahl. Those that rule, they decide.”

“But…they’re supposed to do justice.”

The guard just shook his head. “Best I be going.”

Rahl just watched as the man turned and left, his steps echoing in the empty corridor.

After having seen the injustice of the Council, Rahl had been thinking exile wouldn’t be that bad. But the best he could hope for in Hamor was to become a high-level slave? He didn’t even want to consider being a laborer in the ironworks or quarries.

That meant he had to swallow any pride he had and do whatever he could to stay in Nylan. He just had to, and at least that wouldn’t be nearly so bad as Hamor.

The closed Council wagon that carried Rahl from Land’s End did not leave the keep until well after sunset. The Guard drivers stopped periodically, and Rahl had a chance at water and to relieve himself, but no food was offered until they arrived at the keep in Reflin in late midafternoon and Rahl was placed in another cell there. Again, he found he was the only one confined.

Well after sunset, right after a Council Guard had checked on him, Rahl heard another set of steps. Even in the dim light of the single lamp on the stone wall outside his cell, he recognized the face of the Council Guard.

“Kacet!” Rahl jumped off the low pallet bed and hurried to the iron-barred door.

“Shsshhh!” Rahl’s brother raised his hand. “I’m not supposed to be here. I can’t stay long, but Drosett passed the word that you’d be coming.” Kacet glanced toward the archway to his left. “What did you do?”

“I don’t know.” Rahl shrugged tiredly. “I mean…they said I was misusing order, but I never did. I wouldn’t know how. Magister Puvort claimed I have order-abilities, but he was waiting when Jeason and Jaired attacked me. I used my truncheon to break Jaired’s arm and Jeason’s wrist, but I never used order.”

“Ah, Rahl…they just attacked you?”

“Well…” Rahl paused. “I got a little too close to their sister. They wanted me to ask for her hand-right then and there. I was supposed to see Magister Puvort first that morning…” He raced through what had happened, including his problem with Jienela and the fight with her brothers and how Puvort had appeared and what had followed. “…and I didn’t want to consort Jienela, but I would have, but no one listened to me. Puvort had me set up.”

Kacet shook his head slowly. “Puvort’s a nasty one. He sounds so good, but most of those who get exiled are because of him.”

“Why do they let him do that?”

Kacet was the one to shrug. “How are you doing? No one’s beaten you or anything?”

“No. The Guards have been all right. Not much food, but I haven’t been that hungry.”

“That’s good. Sometimes they aren’t, except that’s usually with exiles waiting for a ship. Sometimes, they get a little too friendly with the women.”

Rahl hoped that hadn’t happened to Fahla, but she was pretty, and she’d been exiled as a slave. That was something else he owed Puvort.

“I know about the food. I brought you some hard cheese and some bread.” Kacet eased a worn cloth pouch through the bars. “I’d have brought ale, but that would have been more than Captain Vorsa would allow.”

“The captain let you…”

“The captain’s a good woman. She doesn’t care for the Council that much, but she never says anything. Told me not to take too long, though.” Kacet paused. “How are Mother and Father? How did they…take it?”

“Mother was upset. She tried to point out to Puvort that I hadn’t done anything wrong. He told her to shut up. Father had to quiet her. He was upset, but he didn’t say much. Puvort wouldn’t allow them to come to the Council meeting where they sentenced me to be sent to Nylan.”

“Bastard,” muttered Kacet.

“Don’t cross him, Kacet,” Rahl said. “He’d exile you as quick as me.”

“I can’t say as I understand, Rahl. You’re just a scrivener, barely more than an apprentice. So you got a girl with child. That happens enough. You didn’t refuse to consort her, did you?”

“We never got to that,” Rahl said. “Mother, Father, and I were going to talk to her parents later that day. After I went to see Magister Puvort.”

“Real bastard.”

A low whistle echoed from the end of the corridor.

“I’ve got to go,” Kacet said. “Sustel’s a traitor bird for the Council. Hide the food till he’s gone. Be real careful in Nylan.”

“I’ll try.”

Kacet vanished from the cell door, and Rahl hurried back and sat on the edge of the pallet bed.

From what Rahl could calculate, the Council Guard wagon came to a slow stop late on oneday-more than an eightday after the Council had sentenced him to exile in Nylan. He heard voices.

“Hallo, Council Guards. What do you have for us today? Another exile? What was the charge?”

“Misuse of order. Here are the papers.”

A long silence followed before anyone spoke again.

“You know where to take him. We’ll expect you back here shortly.”

From that Rahl decided that he and the wagon had finally arrived at the black-stone wall that separated Nylan from the rest of Recluce. With a slight lurch, the wagon moved forward.

Through the barred window in the back of the closed wagon, Rahl could only see the upper section of the wall, but he could sense that the wagon was headed down a gentle grade. Shortly, it came to another halt. After several moments, the rear door opened.

“You can get out now,” said the one of the Guards.

Rahl eased his way out and onto the stone pavement. He was stiff and sore from the long trip. He looked around. The wagon had halted on a flat paved expanse. The sun hung above the ocean to the west. Before him was a city of low buildings built on a hillside that sloped down to a harbor. Every structure seemed to have been constructed of black stone, with slate roof shingles of dark gray or black. Higher on the slope, near where Rahl stood, the houses were far enough apart that grass and trees were plentiful, giving Nylan the air of a park. To his right was a long black-stone building.