L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

He'd spent some time, and effort, trying to speed the healing of several of the less severely wounded troopers, and was crossing the space between the shed where the wounded were quartered and the main barn when a trooper rode toward him.

"Majer! There's a courier out front for you."

"Thank you." Rahl wondered what else Taryl might want, for who else would be seeking him?

He turned and headed back to the front of the stead house.

The courier inclined his head politely and extended a folded sheet of paper. "From the overcommander, ser."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure, ser." The trooper turned his mount. In moments, he was headed back toward the center of the town.

Rahl had definitely felt the shiver of fear in the man, along with a form of respect. He wanted to shake his head. He'd never wanted to be in a war, but it seemed like his only choice, given who and what he was, was to be good at it, and from what he could tell, if he had to live in Hamor, he'd rather live under the Emperor in a united realm than under the sort of people that gathered to Golyat.

He unfolded the paper-it was just a short note from Taryl.

Meet me at the White Boar before dinner.

That was all.

Rahl took one of the spare and captured mounts to ride into Bhucyra. His gelding needed a rest. The town was large enough that he had to ask for directions to the White Boar-a modest inn located two long blocks away from the square and overlooking the Awhut River.

After finding a stableboy, Rahl had to search for Taryl, then wait while the overcommander finished his meeting with several commanders. When they left the small side dining chamber, Taryl motioned for Rahl to join him. Rahl was careful to close the door firmly, and keep his personal order shields strong and tight.

Taryl sat down in one of the chairs and motioned for the younger mage-guard to do the same. Although Taryl had not been involved in any more battles, the overcommander still looked as worn and exhausted as he had right after the battle the previous day.

"Ser… begging your pardon… but you could use some rest." Rahl turned the chair slightly to face Taryl directly.

"So could we all, Rahl."

"Yes, ser, but you make the difference, and if you wear yourself out, there's no one to replace you."

Taryl smiled faintly. "No man is indispensable, much as each of us would like to think so."

"That may be true, ser, but there are levels of dispensability, and while no man is indispensable, the cost of dispensing with some men-or some women-is far greater than with others. Dispensing with you would be most costly for the Emperor."

"I have some doubt that most in Cigoerne would agree with you."

"That is why you are here, and they are there."

"Keep practicing statements like that, Rahl, and you might yet survive in the Palace."

Rahl doubted that Taryl's words were meant as an unalloyed compliment. "It will take more time than I have, ser, for that kind of practice."

Taryl actually laughed, if briefly, and it was the first real laugh Rahl had seen in eightdays from the older mage-guard. After the laugh and smile faded, Taryl cleared his throat. "You've been very effective in the last several battles, Rahl, but, except for that one chaos-mage, Golyat's forces haven't used magery. That will change. I can't say whether it will be at Selyma or thereafter. Golyat has at least ten former mage-guards, and several are quite accomplished."

"Do you know why they haven't used them?"

"No. I can surmise, however." An ironic smile crossed the overcommander's lips. "Most mages, as strong as they may be, have only a few abilities with which they can exercise great strength and mastery. Revealing those abilities at times when it is not critical for success and victory could allow us to develop a tactic to counter them. Also, those with great power will resist hazarding themselves when it is not to their personal advantage, and… if they have great power, who could force them to do so?"

"A company of officers rather than troopers?" asked Rahl.

Taryl nodded. "That does not discount their potential effectiveness. For that reason, I would advise you against using anywhere near your full abilities early in any forthcoming battle. Those you may face will be more than patient, and most willing to sacrifice scores, if not thousands, of troopers to wear you out. You cannot protect Third Company at all costs, not when that cost might be your life and might prolong the rebellion."

"I can see that, ser." Rahl didn't have to like it, but what Taryl said made an unfortunate kind of sense.

"For now, that is all I had. We'll be here tomorrow as well. So get some rest and eat as well as you can."

"Yes, ser."

"There is one thing more." Taryl rose and handed an envelope to Rahl. "You look to be most fortunate. I presume this is from the healer."

Rahl took the envelope, noting that it was addressed to Majer Rahl, Mage-Guard, in care of Third Company, Second Army of Hamor, Cigoerne, Hamor. "How-"

"The High Command makes an effort to assure any trooper or officer receives all letters," Taryl replied. "Sometimes it takes eightdays for them to reach us, but few are ever lost. I thought you might like to have it." Taryl smiled, an expression truly warm and yet wistful.

"Thank you, ser."

"Don't thank me, Rahl. She's the one who wrote."

Rahl couldn't help smiling as he inclined his head before stepping away.

Once he left Taryl, Rahl retreated to a corner of the front foyer of the White Boar and opened the letter. He wasn't about to wait until he rode back to Third Company. He forced himself to read it slowly.

My dearest,

I will soon come to a decision. Do not ask what that is or might be, or how soon I will decide. Whatever it may be, know that you are in my heart and will always be. Whatever else may come, know that is true. For now, I can only ask your patience and forbearance.

Please be as careful as you can. Remember that in all struggles, a number of men and women linked by purpose and order can always defeat the greatest of mages, whether of order or chaos. Healing and building proceed one small step at a time. So does winning battles, I would imagine, although I claim no knowledge of such.

Aleasya sends her best. She claims that she always knew you would persevere and succeed in war because she had never seen an ordermage strong enough and dumb enough to handle a falchiona. Uncle Thorl also wishes you well.

The signature was a simple "Deybri."

What decision was she considering? He didn't like the phrase, "whatever else may come," because that was suggesting that she loved him but could not bring herself to commit to him. He took a deep breath, then smiled wryly. She had asked for patience, and she would have it. What else could he do? Besides, he had no options until the revolt was suppressed-if it could be.

Yet, as he rode back through the twilight, he thought about her words and wondered. He dared not hope.

On sevenday, Second Army moved southward under high thin gray clouds toward Selyma, a large town that straddled the Awhut River. Although the air was warmer than it had been farther inland, the grass remained green, and none of the trees sported the shriveled gray leaves of winter, to Rahl it felt raw and chill, doubtless because it was so damp. All the steads near the road were shuttered, and many had been abandoned by their holders, at least until they felt the fighting had passed.

Once more, Third Company was effectively the van, although Taryl had dispatched scouts ahead of the vanguard in all directions. Rahl could not sense any rebels-or any traps-but none of the holdings near the main road held any food or supplies, either, and he doubted that was solely the result of the holders' prudence.