L. Modesitt - Natural Ordermage

“Talanyr,” Rahl said. “I can’t. I don’t have any coins to speak of.”

The other mage-clerk laughed. “I know. Tonight will be my treat, and it will be. You helped back there, and it’s good to be with someone who can handle a truncheon and who’s actually read a book. Rhiobyn thinks that you pick them for the color of the binding and how they look on a library wall.” Talanyr laughed. “Besides, I don’t have much to spend on anyway. You can treat me sometime when you’re paid.”

“I will.” Rahl paused, then added, “Rhiobyn must come from coins.”

“His family’s coins have coins. They’re merchanters in Atla. You wouldn’t know it, because they hired tutors so that they wouldn’t talk like Atlans.”

“Like me?”

“You talk like an educated Atlan, and that’s fine. Besides, I talk like an Afritan, and that’s worse than an Atlan for most people.”

Rahl just nodded. He had more than a little to learn about Hamor.

Rahl had enjoyed Talanyr’s tour of Guasyra, and the meal at the Nalyrra, but by the end of eightday, much of what he saw had become a blur, and he had been glad to climb on the wagon that night and ride back to Luba station. He could not remember his dreams, save that they were disturbing and left him feeling apprehensive when he woke.

As soon as he finished breakfast, he hurried to the armory.

The armorer was an older man, uniformed as was Rahl, except with the silver insignia of a falchiona crossed with a truncheon on his collar, rather than starbursts of the mage-guards. He stood behind a low counter and peered at Rahl. “You’re the new one, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ser.”

“No ‘sers,’ young fellow. What do you need?”

“I was hoping you might have a heavier truncheon.” Rahl held up the one he’d been issued. “This…well…I could do a better job with a heavier one.”

“Heavier…hmmm…I might have something…just might…” The armorer turned and walked to the racks in the right-hand rear corner, murmuring to himself. “Now…where was that…saw it the other day…” After several moments, he turned and walked back to the counter. “This one here’s been around ever since I’ve been here, but it’s still solid as the day it was crafted.” The armorer extended a dull black truncheon.

As he took it, for a moment, Rahl thought that it might be like the one he’d been given in Nylan, but he could see that the half guard was a touch thicker and the weapon was a trace longer. Still, there was an iron band below the half guard.

“It’s black oak,” added the armorer. “Only thing better than that is lorken, and I haven’t seen any of that in years.”

“Thank you.” The older truncheon even felt better in his hand.

“Never let it be said that Vymor couldn’t find the right weapon for you.”

“Oh…” Rahl handed the truncheon he’d been issued to Vymor. “I only need one.”

“We’ll find a place for this one, we will. Best you be on with your duties.”

With the effective dismissal, Rahl turned.

Once he got to the copying chamber, he set the truncheon aside and picked up the first report in the stack.

He’d finished both copies of that and was working on the second when Talanyr appeared.

“Thelsyn is going to start asking why I don’t follow your example,” Talanyr said as he took his place at the other end of the copying table.

“Because you already know what I need to learn.”

“You know more than you think you do,” countered Talanyr, “or Taryl wouldn’t have made you a clerk.”

“He just needed someone who could write quickly and accurately.”

“That doesn’t hurt…” Rahl broke off as Thelsyn stepped into the copying room.

“What doesn’t hurt?”

“Writing quickly and accurately, ser.”

“No, it doesn’t, and I imagine that you both could do so with even greater results if your hands were as engaged as your tongues are.”

“Yes, ser.”

The mage-guard walked up to Rahl and inspected the first set of reports, then walked toward Talanyr.

“I just got here, ser.”

“In mind, at least,” Thelsyn said dryly, before turning and departing.

Rahl said nothing, but went back to copying and rewriting the almost illegible report of a mage named Sostrost. He had completed both copies of eight more reports by the time Taryl walked into the copying room in late midmorning, just before midday.

The thin-faced mage held an envelope in his hand as he stopped beside the copy table.

“Ser?”

“Rahl…we did get a report on you.” Taryl offered a tight smile. “There was a Rahl who registered as an outland mage in Swartheld. You didn’t register that you were from Recluce.”

“I’m sorry.” Rahl found his mouth open. “I thought…I mean when I said that I was working at the Nylan Merchanting Association, and I was an outlander, I thought that would have been clear.”

Abruptly, Taryl laughed. “All of the mages or exiles from Recluce seem to think that there aren’t any ordermages or chaos-mages anywhere but in Hamor, Fairhaven, or Recluce, and that most of the mages outside of Recluce are slaves of chaos.” He shook his head. “Still…they didn’t ask you?”

“No, ser. I said that I was an outlander working for the Association as a clerk and that my abilities were limited, but that I’d been told to register.”

“Limited abilities?”

“I told you, ser…about what I could do. I can’t do any of that now.”

“And they didn’t ask more?” persisted Taryl.

“No, ser.”

“They should have asked, but not everyone follows the procedures as closely as they might.” Taryl’s eyes lighted on the black truncheon. He raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t like the issue truncheon?”

“Talanyr and I went to Guasyra yesterday. While we were there…” Rahl went on to explain what had happened. “…and the truncheon I’d been issued just didn’t feel right. So I asked the armorer if he could find me one a little heavier. That isn’t a problem, is it?”

“You took down a thief with two long daggers with just a truncheon?”

“Yes, ser.”

Taryl looked over at Talanyr, who had been trying to remain unobserved. “You had something to do with this?”

“Mage-Guard Chovayt needed assistance, sir. There were four armed thieves there.”

“I see.” Taryl’s voice conveyed a mixture of irony and skepticism.

“They were close to all the vendors, and there was no way to use chaos without hurting them, and there was a little girl.”

“About the age of your sister?”

“Yes, ser.” Talanyr’s voice was subdued.

“Did Rahl face the man with daggers by himself?”

“Yes, ser.”

Taryl turned to Rahl. “Exactly what did you do?”

“I knocked one dagger out of his hand. That took a while. Then I got inside his guard and broke his jaw and maybe his knee joint, ser. He did come after me with the daggers, and he had stolen coins from one of the vendors.”

“Rahl…just how much arms training have you had?”

“My father started me with the truncheon when I was maybe eight, and we sparred a few times every eightday until I left. When the magisters were preparing me for exile, I worked with two of them every day for a season or so, but that was with more than the truncheon.”

“Were they armsmasters or just trainees?”

“They were both armsmasters.”

“Did they train you in dealing with blades and knives against your truncheon?”

“Yes, ser, and with a staff.”

“Hmmm…” Taryl nodded slowly. “Once you know more about the mage-guards…well…we’ll see. I’ll be bringing a book to you later. I want you to read all of it, but I want you to read it carefully as well.”