L. Modesitt - Natural Ordermage

Tamryn nodded. “Not many exiles pick that up quickly. Have you done any studies with the magisters in the north?”

“No, ser. I was going to see them when…everything happened.”

“Ah, yes, Leyla and Kadara both wrote up their reports on you.” Tamryn nodded. “Well, in answer to your question, our…brethren…north of the wall wish to think of the world in simpler terms than is realistic.” Tamryn frowned, then paused for a moment. “While few speak of it, all living creatures, and that includes me and you, contain both order and chaos. It’s more complicated than what I’m about to say, but you can think of it this way. Chaos is like the coal or the wood in a stove. It provides the energy or the warmth that keeps us alive. Order is like the stove itself. Without the structure of the stove, the fire would consume all around it or burn out uselessly. Without chaos, there would be no life, just a dead body.”

Rahl nodded. “Are there good uses of chaos and bad uses of order, then?”

Tamryn pursed his lips. “Yes…but with a condition. Those who use chaos frequently may indeed use it for purposes that are worthy. I understand that the junior mages of Fairhaven often are employed to clean their sewers with chaos-fire. Chaos-mages at times accompany patrollers in both Fairhaven and Hamor and help keep order. However”-Tamryn paused-“the continued use of chaos predisposes a mage toward destruction, rather than building, and very, very few powerful chaos-mages have ever been known whose good works outweighed their evil ones.”

“Do you know of any, magister?”

“It is said that Cerryl the Great of Fairhaven was one of those. Certainly, in his rule, all was peaceful, and few fled to Recluce, and few indeed had harsh words for him, but we do not know what evil he did because he was so powerful that few to whom he might have done evil would have survived.”

“About the evil use of order, magister?”

Tamryn looked at Rahl. “I trust you are not playing at some game, or that you will not long continue it, Rahl.”

“It is not a game, ser. I have feelings about this, but I would say nothing until I understand more.” Rahl wanted to make sure all the mages in Nylan understood how things really were in Land’s End, and questions were always a better way to get older people interested.

“Very well. The evil that can be accomplished with the misuse of order is most different. It is more akin to building a very tight and well-constructed prison. Everything must be so ordered, and follow such rigid rules that nothing is allowed to change.”

That sounded like Land’s End. Puvort certainly hadn’t wanted anything to change, even the way books were produced, not that the prohibition had been bad for Rahl’s father. “I was a scrivener, ser, and I did not know that a machine existed to print books until yesterday. That was when Magister Sebenet showed me the printing press.”

“We’re aware of that, Rahl. Let’s leave it at that for now.”

Rahl could sense Tamryn’s irritation, and he nodded. “Thank you, ser.” He tried to remain calm himself, but he didn’t like being treated like a child or having his questions brushed away when the mage had asked if he had those questions. The engineers and the mages of Nylan had the power to change the north. Why didn’t they?

“Now…for today, Rahl, I’d like you to consider why Creslin was forced to found Recluce.”

How could he talk about that? Rahl paused, then began slowly. “I know some of the legends, and I have read Tales of the Founders. I had to copy it, but I read it as well.”

“You don’t think he was forced to found Recluce, then?”

Rahl hated being put into corners the way Tamryn was doing to him, and he detested the fact that the mage could sense what Rahl was feeling, and yet didn’t understand what was behind those feelings. Nor did he or the others seem to care. “There’s a lot missing from the book. I don’t understand why he fled from Westwind, then ended up consorting the woman he didn’t want to consort.”

“Did you fit in Land’s End?”

“I was doing fine. I mean, I was until those two attacked me, and I never used any order at all.”

“Let’s see. You got a girl with child, and you broke the arms of two men…and you were doing fine?”

“They wouldn’t have attacked if Magister Puvort hadn’t used order on one of them to make him charge me.” Rahl wished he hadn’t said anything the moment the words were out.

Tamryn’s head snapped up. “You didn’t mention that before.”

“I couldn’t say anything before the Council. They were already charging me with misusing order. If they knew I could feel that, they would have exiled me right there.”

“Why didn’t you tell Kadara or Leyla?”

“It would have sounded like I was…well, like I was making something up.”

Tamryn sighed. “Don’t you think we can tell that?”

“The Council knew that I hadn’t done anything really wrong, but that didn’t stop them,” Rahl pointed out.

“Actually, they did you a favor. If you’d have stayed in Land’s End, even if you had taken instruction from the magisters, exactly how long do you think it would have been before you were in real trouble?”

“I made a mistake with Jienela,” Rahl said. “I didn’t mean to…”

Tamryn laughed. “It always happens.”

“What?” Rahl was confused.

“If you use order to make a girl feel better, there’s nothing wrong with that, if it’s just a touch, but more than that, and there’s a Balance there, too. If you use order that way, and you sleep with her, she’s far more likely to end with a child.”

Rahl could sense the absolute truth of what the magister said.

“That’s just another reason why you need instruction and training. You have ability, but you’re going to get yourself in real trouble someday if you don’t stop feeling angry and sorry for yourself and start learning what order is all about.”

Tamryn might be right, Rahl thought, but in his own way, he was as arrogant as Puvort and all the Council. Were all the magisters in Recluce like that?

Still…it wouldn’t hurt to learn what he could.

For the next several days, Rahl managed to meet with the three magisters without upsetting them or himself by carefully reading The Basis of Order and asking questions that interested him. He answered their questions honestly, although that took the extra effort of forcing himself to consider himself as someone else and replying factually.

The Hamorian classes were disconcerting at first, but then, as he realized that there was nothing at all hidden, he began to enjoy them, even with the children, just letting himself relax and learn what he could.

The printing was neither as taxing as dealing with the magisters nor as enjoyable as learning Hamorian. Each task, just like copying, had to be perfect. Unlike copying, if Rahl made a mistake, and if Sebenet did not catch it, pages and pages of print could be ruined. That only happened once, when Rahl did not check one of the corner fasteners on a pasteboard page-set on fiveday afternoon.

The page-set tore apart, and ink ended up everywhere, and Rahl missed supper and had to work until almost the lamps-out bell to clean up the mess. Sebenet worked with him, but the printmaster said nothing.

He didn’t have to; Rahl could sense his disapproval. But then, after seeing the mess, Rahl couldn’t blame Sebenet-unlike the magisters, whose questions and instruction continued to grate on Rahl whenever he thought about it. He tried not to think much about it.

Sixday went better, and when he arrived in the mess for supper, Rahl felt vaguely relieved to have survived the print shop without any more mistakes. After serving himself, he saw Meryssa sitting by herself.