L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

"But will any officer…?"

"There are always a few, and what you will do at first will not be obvious nor seem that dangerous."

"Ser… I know you have much on your mind," Rahl said quietly, "but I am concerned about my duties."

"Oh?" Taryl did not smile.

"I have no idea what I am supposed to be doing for you. When I was a patrol mage, it was clear enough. Even when I was a clerk and a scrivener, it was clear. But now…" Rahl shrugged helplessly.

"You are to do what I tell you. Once we are in the field, you will be doing what I would be thought to be doing while I will be keeping the marshal from doing excessive damage to our efforts. Why do you think I've been pushing all these exercises? They have all been designed to improve your order-senses and perceptions and shields. You will accompany one of the armed mounted heavy infantry companies that will be doing advance reconnaissance, and your duties are to help them gather as much information as possible about opposing forces while also keeping their casualties as low as practicable. You will also send messages directly to me with any strategic or tactical recommendations. You may make tactical recommendations to the company captain about his options. If anyone asks you, just say that you're currently staff but will likely be reassigned."

"Ser… I don't know anything about military operations."

Taryl laughed. "Neither does anyone else-not about land fighting. We haven't fought any major battles on land in more than a century, and I have my doubts that all the manuals are that good. Just keep your eyes and senses open and use common sense. And try not to get killed. Troopers can be replaced more easily than mages."

As if to punctuate Taryl's words, the coach came to a stop outside a modest two-story stone structure with the usual red-tile roof.

"One last thing," Taryl said. "Keep working on using those personal shields, especially in the mess."

"Yes, ser."

From that point on, Rahl just followed Taryl.

They were given quarters. Rahl was given a key and directed to a chamber on the main level, about as far as possible from the mess chamber, while Taryl was escorted up the stairs to true quarters-since the quartering clerk was apologizing that the senior officers' quarters only had a sitting room and a bedchamber, along with an attached bathing and necessary chambers.

At least, reflected Rahl as he unpacked his gear, he wasn't far from the showers and jakes.

After that, he stretched out on the bed and ended up taking a nap and then having to hurry to get to the mess. He hadn't realized he'd been so tired.

He reached the foyer outside the mess just as a single bell rang once, and the senior officer-who looked to be an overcommander, inclined his head to Taryl. "If you would, Marshal?"

Was the title a reflection of Taryl's effective rank? Rahl wondered. It had to be.

Taryl inclined his head in return. "If you would join me, Overcommander."

Rahl followed the other officers into a chamber set up with a short table set cross-wise to two others, with a fourth table set below the two parallel tables. Just from looking at the officers, he could tell that the short table was for the senior officers, and the left-hand one was for majers-the half closest to the senior table-while the lower half of that table and the adjoining one was for captains, and the fourth table for undercaptains.

From what Rahl could see of the score and a half of officers in the mess, there were perhaps five or six mage-guards, and all were chaos-mages. There were also three healers, two men and a woman, distinguished by the inverted green chevron across the shoulders of their khaki shirts. All but one were seated in the section of the tables with the captains-and Rahl.

The captains around Rahl offered names quickly.

"Sernyt…"

"Bleun…"

"Sevela…"

Seated across the table to Rahl's left was one of the mage-guards, an older man with streaks of gray in his hair. "Tilsytt, assigned to Second Cavalry."

"Rahl, assigned to Overcommander Taryl."

Tilsytt frowned. "The former Triad?"

"The same one."

"You're staff, then?"

Rahl shrugged. "I think that's temporary. He's said I'll be reassigned shortly."

"This isn't your first assignment?"

Rahl shook his head. "My third." That was true enough, even if his previous assignments had been short.

"You wear years well," Tilsytt said with a trace of irony.

"The second assignment was only about a season. The first was in Swartheld, in the harbor station."

"You involved with that mess caused by the Jeranyi?"

"Most of us were, one way or another."

"I mean… really involved."

"Yes."

"You're an order type. Ever kill anyone?"

Rahl smiled politely, trying to keep his irritation behind his shields. "I couldn't count the number." He let the honesty of that response seep out from behind his shields, especially since it was true. He'd set the explosion that had destroyed the Jeranyi pirate vessel, and he couldn't count how many had died, except he knew it had been more than a score, and that didn't count the others.

Tilsytt frowned. "Where'd you train, if I might ask?"

"Luba. I spent time there as a loader, and then a clerk before the mage-guards found I had order-abilities."

Tilsytt paled, ever so slightly. "I see."

So the reference to Luba bothered Tilsytt. Rahl would have to ask Taryl about that.

"Were the Jeranyi really going to blow up most of the merchant district in Swartheld?" asked Captain Sernyt.

"Did you know that they were backing the rebels then?" followed Bleun, before Rahl could reply.

Rahl took a sip of the lager, then nodded politely. "The Jeranyi raiders had stockpiled barrels and barrels of cammabark that they'd smuggled in. They did so under false pretenses, and then killed the trader whose warehouse they'd used…" Rahl gave a short explanation of what had happened, omitting the specifics of his action or the fact that it was the Nylan Merchant Association.

During the meal he tried to find out more about the others, but the captains around him were far more interested in knowing about what had happened in Swartheld and what role the Jeranyi had played.

Between being polite, holding his personal shields, and trying to keep track of who was who and attached to what, Rahl found dinner tiring, and he was more than glad when he could rise with the others and leave.

In the foyer outside the mess chamber, several groups of officers remained, talking more informally and across ranks. Rahl spied Tilsytt speaking to a majer and began to drift in that direction without actually looking at the two. As he neared them, he stopped, turning to look at the portrait of an overcommander in a dress uniform hanging on the wall. Then he extended his order-senses, curious as to what the two were discussing.

"… asked him, like you said… wagering he's the closest thing to an order-type bravo you'll see. Overcommander must have picked him out and trained him…"

"… tell you how good he was?"

"… avoided it, mostly… like the good ones… don't have to brag…"

"… confirms… sources say he's armsmaster class with order weapons… any idea why he's here… what he's doing?"

"… said he's likely to be reassigned, doesn't know where… that reads true…"

"Could he be deceiving you?"

"… been reading mage-guards a long time, majer. If he's that good, then he's more like a senior mage-guard, maybe even an overcaptain, but he's too young for that… looking this way…"

Rahl turned and slowly moved away. Why did the majer want to know about Rahl? More likely the question was to whom the majer reported who wanted to know.

"Captain?"

Rahl turned to find himself face-to-face with one of the healer mage-guards, a square-faced older woman closer to his mother's age than his, he suspected. "I'm still not used to being called 'captain.'