L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

From across the square, Saol raised his falchiona in a salute.

Rahl returned the gesture by lifting the battle truncheon, if briefly.

"Word was that you were the one really running the city." Drakeyt's voice was casual, but the curiosity behind the words was not.

"I just did what the overcommander wanted." Rahl offered a laugh. "And he wanted a lot done. He always has."

"They say-you told me-that he doesn't do anything without a reason."

Taryl never had. That was true, but… "He has more to worry about than Nubyat right now. I really didn't have much else to do except the duties he delegated to me."

"That's probably true."

Drakeyt wasn't convinced, but neither was Rahl, but he was afraid to hope that Taryl's assignments were to familiarize him with the city and might lead to his promotion to undercaptain or captain-perhaps in Nubyat. Still… it was possible.

"We'll just have to see." That was all Rahl dared to say, especially with the battles that still lay ahead determining the fate of the revolt-and his own destiny.

Over the next three days, as Third Company scouted the road to Sastak, as well as the surrounding roads and lanes, neither Rahl nor any of the troopers and scouts found any recent signs of rebels. Every morning Rahl received instructions from Taryl, and every evening he reported on what he and Third Company had discovered and observed. The countryside and the steads were peaceful, with the buds beginning to open on the dwarf olives, foretelling the imminent arrival of spring. Rahl couldn't help but think that it would still be chill in Land's End, with frosts and even rimes of ice on the edges of the few streams.

On oneday evening, just after sunset, Rahl rode up to the White Stag-the larger of the two inns in the town of Cheystak and the one where Taryl had made his headquarters for that night. Even before he had tied the gelding to the hitching rail just below the inn's slightly raised and roofed front porch that overlooked the main square, he could sense the faint presence of both Triads.

Undercaptain Yadryn-whom Rahl had only met once or twice in passing-stood in the inn's foyer. "Majer, ser, the overcommander and the Triads are in the small dining area down the hall on the left. The over-commander said you were to report immediately."

"Thank you, Yadryn." Rahl offered a smile in passing, although he didn't relish the idea of reporting to the Triads as well as Taryl.

As he reached out to knock on the age-darkened oak of the door, Taryl said, "Come on in, Rahl."

Rahl stepped inside the chamber, closed the door firmly behind himself, and turned to face the three men seated at one end of the oval table. He inclined his head to Fieryn, then to Dhoryk. "Honorable Triads." He let concern seep from his shields, and a hint of apprehension, then choked it off.

"Proceed with your report to the overcommander, Senior Mage-Guard." Fieryn's voice was firm, but Rahl sensed something between boredom and indifference.

Barely concealed skepticism seeped from around Dhoryk's shields.

Rahl looked to Taryl.

"Go ahead, Rahl."

"Third Company has reconnoitered to a point fifteen kays south of here, some eleven kays short of Semistyd. The last rebel force passed through this part of Merowey more than an eightday ago, on the sixday preceding the last, and that was a loose grouping of riders in rebel uniforms riding toward Sastak. They took supplies from the local chandlery and left a form of script, but they did not physically injure anyone. There have been no wagons or shipments of goods headed south on the road for roughly two eightdays, and the last barrels of flour were sent to Sastak almost four eightdays ago."

" Roughly and almost are rather general terms, Mage-Guard," noted Dhoryk. "Is it possible to be more accurate in your reporting?"

Rahl paused for just a moment, keeping his astonishment at Dhoryk's arrogance and lack of understanding of the record-keeping, and lack of it, in small towns, well behind his shields. "I could only be more accurate, honored Triad, if those whom we questioned-and their ledgers-were more precise. When a ledger merely notes that a shipment of flour was included on a wagon sent from Sastak in the sixth eightday of winter, rather than on threeday or fiveday of that eightday, and when no one remembers exactly which day it was half a season past, the precision that we all seek is rather difficult to obtain. Only in one case was an actual date posted, and that was for a wheel of cheese. That was, I recall, on threeday of the seventh eightday of winter." He inclined his head politely.

Dhoryk turned to Taryl. "You really should think about having the regional tariff enumerators crack down on such sloppy bookkeeping."

"I appreciate your suggestion, Dhoryk," Taryl replied pleasantly, "but you might note that those dates precede my taking over as acting Regional Administrator. Not even all the Triads acting together could change what has already been shipped or how it was entered in ledgers, but once this revolt is over, assuming that the Emperor desires that I remain as Regional Administrator, I will certainly instruct the tariff enumerators to request more accurate dating of all records applicable to tariff collection." He looked at Rahl. "What else did Third Company discover?"

"None of the rebel forces have ever attempted to collect grain or other goods from steads, towns, or hamlets more than five to six kays from the main road. Nor are there any tracks or traces of rebel forces in those areas. This is likely to change, I would judge, once we reach Semistyd, because the east-west roads there are paved and well traveled…"

"You would judge?" Fieryn raised his eyebrows.

"I can only make a calculated judgment, honored Triad, until we reach those areas and can actually scout and determine what has in fact happened."

"Then why guess? It is a guess, you understand?"

Rahl forced a smile. "I do so, ser, so that the overcommander can see what I plan and inform me if I am proceeding in a fashion contrary to his expectations."

"Why would you even consider proceeding contrary to his expectations?"

"I would not, and do not, honored Triad." Rahl inclined his head again. "But I have discovered that at times words and directions that seem perfectly clear have differing meanings to different people, even when both have the same goals and aspirations, and I would not wish to undertake any action where there might be a misunderstanding that could be avoided by my merely indicating the course of my actions under the overcommander's orders."

"Such caution is commendable." Fieryn's words were dry. "If not always possible. Initiative is sometimes preferable to caution."

"Could we obtain supplies without leaving the locals short through the spring and early summer?" asked Taryl.

"Here in Cheystak there are enough stocks of flour and oils, but the flocks and herds seem thin. There are more herders farther south, and their herds appear fuller, with yearlings and calves."

Taryl nodded. "I think that will do, Rahl. I will have further orders in the morning."

Rahl inclined his head. "Ser." He added, "Honored Triads."

Neither spoke or acknowledged his words.

After leaving the dining chamber, Rahl walked out through the foyer, across the front porch, down the two steps, and stopped, looking through the gloom of twilight toward the statue of an ancient emperor on his pedestal in the square. After a meeting such as the one he had just endured, he could understand why the magisters of Recluce thought so poorly of Hamor.

He glanced back at the inn, wondering if he could locate Deybri. He shook his head, realizing that he had no real idea where she might be and that searching for her would subject him to possible further scrutiny by the two Triads. That was not something to risk, not at that moment. With a sigh, he turned toward the gelding. He needed to return to the stead outside Cheystak where Third Company had billeted itself. He was more than glad for the distance between the company and the Triads.