L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

"

"You don't look like it will take long. I'm Xerya."

"Rahl. Is there anything…" He smiled politely.

"Not really. I heard that Taryl had brought one assistant, and I wanted to meet you."

"I hope you're not disappointed. I'm just a former patrol mage from Swartheld."

Her smile was broader and more open, and Rahl could sense the same type of warmth that Deybri and the healers in Nylan had shown. "I doubt anyone who accompanies a former Triad who is now a marshal is just a former patrol mage."

Rahl shrugged helplessly. "I'm fortunate, then."

The smile faded. "I wouldn't say that. Being around Taryl offers great opportunities and great dangers."

Rahl had already gotten that impression, but he just nodded.

"The other reason I wanted to talk to you was that I'd like you to come to the infirmary when you can. You're an order type, and while you'll never be a true healer, there are some techniques that any ordermage can use, and they can be helpful in battle or in case of injuries. We can show you some of those."

"I'd be happy to learn what I can." Rahl paused. "Where is the infirmary?"

"One block south of here and two blocks toward the river. It's the only building with green doors and shutters."

Rahl nodded politely. "I'll be there when I can."

"We'll look forward to it… Captain."

Rahl realized that she had been the one at the majers' table. "Yes, Majer."

"Save the rank for public use, Rahl." The words were warm, if brief, and Xerya nodded and turned.

Rahl kept a faint smile on his face as he moved across the foyer and toward the doors to the outside. He needed some fresh air, and some time to think.

On sixday morning, even before Rahl could cross the foyer and step into the mess for breakfast, Taryl appeared and drew him aside.

"What do you have to report?"

"Last night, one of the mage-guards-that was Tilsytt-met with a majer I don't know and reported on what I said. They were concerned that I might be some sort of bravo."

"That won't hurt, so long as it's limited to that. What else?"

"A healer majer named Xerya asked me to visit her at the infirmary so that she could give me some instruction on field healing." Rahl smiled wryly. "The sort that any ordermage could do. I didn't tell her that in some areas I was less capable than any ordermage."

"Not anymore," Taryl said. "What do you think all the exercises were for? Go meet with her after breakfast and spend as much time with her as she'll give you. Learn and listen. After that, I want you to walk as much of the post as you can-slowly. Take in everything. Be friendly and talk to any officer who shows an interest. We'll meet on the weather platform after dinner. If I'm not there immediately, you can work on studying the weather."

"Yes, ser."

With that, Taryl was gone, and Rahl had the feeling that the overcommander had eaten very early and had just been waiting for Rahl. Just what had Taryl been doing? Rahl wished he knew.

Breakfast was far less formal, with officers coming and going, and all eating rather quickly. Rahl sat with some captains he had not met before and asked general questions, just trying to get a feel of what they and their units did, but not probing too intently, except with his order-senses.

After he ate, he left the mess and stepped outside, into a breeze, almost chill, and certainly the coolest he'd experienced in Hamor. He walked briskly southward, and then east. As the majer had said, with its bright green shutters and doors, the infirmary was hard to miss. He made his way through the main doors.

A woman younger than Rahl and wearing a plain trooper's uniform, except with the green healing corps chevron, looked up from the table in the infirmary's entry foyer. "Yes, ser. Might I help you?"

"Captain Rahl here to see Majer Xerya, at her request."

"Yes, ser. This way. She said you might be by. She's on rounds at the moment, but you're to accompany her."

Rounds? Of injured troopers? Rahl didn't ask, but followed the trooper along a narrow corridor, then around yet another corridor. The walls were smooth white plaster, and the stone floors shimmered.

Ahead of them was the healer majer. She smiled as she caught sight of Rahl, but addressed the trooper. "Thank you, Seshya."

Rahl's escort slipped away.

"You're prompt," noted Xerya. "I thought you might be. The over-commander isn't known to favor laggards. This way, if you would. We're fortunate that we don't have many injuries here at the moment, but I would have liked to show you a wider range." She turned into a larger room with three beds on each side. Four were occupied, with the middle one on each side empty.

A young trooper lay on the end bed, his back propped up with leather pillows and a bulky leather-and-iron splint around one leg.

"Can you sense what happened here?" asked Xerya.

"I don't know," Rahl admitted. "Let me try."

The trooper glanced from the healer to Rahl and back to the healer, puzzlement warring with pain on his face.

Rahl extended his order-senses, finding wound chaos, of a sort, in the splinted leg. He turned to the healer. "There's a spot where things don't quite meet, a broken bone, and there's still wound chaos there."

"Where?"

Rahl pointed to a spot two spans below the knee.

"That's where the bone broke. It just happened last night. There will be wound chaos for several days after a fracture, even if the wound is clean and the skin's not broken, but it should decrease some each day. The dangerous breaks are where the skin is broken, and the bone protrudes."

Rahl managed not to wince at that thought.

"Thank you." The healer nodded to the trooper, who still looked puzzled. She moved to the next occupied bed. The man lying there was barely breathing.

"Brain fever. All we can do is feed him ale and lager and keep him cool. About half recover." She crossed the ward to the next trooper. The man was missing his foot and his leg from just above the ankle. He was moaning, but not really awake.

Rahl could sense a certain amount of wound chaos, but it was spread throughout the man's body. He looked to the healer.

"He stepped on a spike or something and didn't tell anyone. The wound festered so badly we had to amputate his foot and lower leg. Almost any order-type mage-guard could have stopped or slowed the initial wound chaos. That's something you can look out for in the field. The same thing is true of minor blade slashes, thorns, that sort of thing." Xerya studied Rahl. "Can you concentrate order in a small space?"

"For a time," Rahl said.

"That's all it takes for some of the little wounds. Clean them out with something that won't make the festering worse-like lager or strong brandy, but clear strong spirits are the best, then concentrate a small bit of order around the wound and dress it with something clean."

Rahl nodded and followed her to the next trooper.

All in all, he spent the entire morning with the healer-and just hoped he could remember most of what she told him. Her warmth, although not directed at him especially, reminded him of Deybri, and he had to tell himself that it would be eightdays before she received his letter.

After that, he embarked upon Taryl's task, touring the post area, block by block, and taking in what he observed.

He saw more than a few companies of fresh-faced recruits, most seemingly much younger than he had been when he'd been sent to Nylan, being taught to march, and to handle sabres, rather than falchionas.

When he caught sight of two companies of archers launching arrows into skyward arcs toward distant straw targets, he moved closer, with an idea in mind. Could he create a small order shield, one strong enough to stop one of those long arrows? He moved closer, but stopped behind a stone pillar and began to try out his idea.