L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

In reply, Rahl inclined his head. "Triad."

"Do come in," repeated Fieryn, stepping back and gesturing for them to follow him into the study beyond.

Rahl walked behind the two senior mage-guards and was about to shut the door behind him when Fieryn's assistant did just that.

The study was scarcely overlarge, an oblong chamber fifteen cubits by ten, with a single bookcase of golden wood set against the west wall and filled with leather-bound volumes with spines chased in gilt and arranged in order. Rahl suspected none had been read recently. In front of the east wall was a table desk with several documents laid carelessly across it and a wooden armchair behind it. Set before the window in the south wall that overlooked the interior courtyard garden was a circular table with four chairs around it.

Fieryn took the chair on the west side of the table. "We might as well sit down. Everyone will have a long day."

Taryl settled into the chair on the east. Rahl took the chair that faced the window. As he seated himself, he could sense the faint but thorough probes at his personal shields.

"Good shields, but I wouldn't have expected less… if you're working for Taryl."

Rahl wondered at the slight hesitation, but he replied, "I've tried to follow his example."

Fieryn laughed. "I'm glad you used the word tried. Few have been able to actually follow that example." His eyes focused directly on Rahl. "So you're the mage-guard who managed to disrupt the Jeranyi scheme in Swartheld?"

"I did what I could, ser," replied Rahl deferentially.

"You're an ordermage, and stronger than the average for a mage-guard, but there's no hint of chaos about you. How did you manage to get the ship to explode?"

"I managed to use a sight shield to get to the ammunition magazines, and I set fuses to the powder, sir. I did fashion a little order around the fuses so that they'd burn steady. Then I hurried as fast as I could to get away. I almost didn't make it, and I had to jump into the harbor and stay underwater."

Fieryn laughed once more. "It's good to hear when a mage-guard has to use something besides his order- or chaos-abilities." The laugh and smile vanished. "I'm curious. How did Recluce let an ordermage as accomplished as you are depart?"

Rahl offered a rueful smile. "It's a long story, ser, but the short version is that they declared that I was a natural ordermage, and could not learn anything, and that I was a danger to Recluce and Nylan. The magisters were relieved to see me depart."

"Yet you worked as a clerk for a time?"

"They did not think I was teachable or knew that much. I didn't know better. I didn't even think I knew enough to be considered any sort of mage until one of the harbor mage-guards stopped me while I was delivering papers and suggested that I register as an outland mage."

"Did you?"

"Yes, ser. Almost immediately."

"Almost?" Fieryn raised his near-transparent eyebrows.

"I finished delivering the papers to the tariff enumerators and went straight to the mage-guard station."

Fieryn looked to Taryl.

"He did, and there's a record of his registry."

Fieryn shook his head. "Sometimes, I have to wonder how Recluce survives. They throw out mages like you, and they threw out the greatest engineer in recent history, and he had to defeat an entire fleet with one ship for them to allow him back-and only if he built a separate city." His eyes flicked back to Rahl. "Are you loyal to the mage-guards or to Taryl?"

"From what I know and have seen, ser, there is no difference." As soon as he spoke, Rahl wished he'd phrased his reply differently.

Fieryn paused, just fractionally, before asking, "Did anyone tell you to say that?"

"No, ser. It's just that everything I've seen tells me that. I doubt the overcommander would have wanted me to say that. It's probably not a good answer for someone who is ambitious or knows Cigoerne well." That was an even worse answer. Why couldn't he just murmur something polite?

"Why do you say that?"

That he could answer honestly without getting in trouble. "Because I don't know Cigoerne, ser, and because I'm most grateful to be a mage-guard after all I've seen."

Fieryn nodded slowly. "I can sense you mean that deeply, and few do, or not for long. I would caution you that innocence will not protect you from evil or corruption. Nor will good will and faith. The only true protection is an understanding that there is no such thing as a little corruption and that all power and fame are fleeting. I doubt that there is a mage-guard anywhere under thirty years who can name the Triad before my predecessor, and less than a handful of Hamorians recall the name of the Emperor before Hamylt. Cyad once ruled the world, and no one is certain where most of her great cities even were."

Rahl sensed that the Triad meant every word, and yet… He just nodded. "Yes, ser."

Fieryn stood abruptly. "It has been good to see you again, Taryl, and to meet you, Rahl. I look forward to hearing good things from both of you."

Rahl rose from the conference table with Taryl. He realized that he had not sensed the Triad's intention until Fieryn had stood. That alone told him he still had much to learn.

He also had to wonder why Fieryn had requested such a long coach ride for both Taryl and Rahl for such a short meeting that seemed almost perfunctory, yet he had the strong feeling that asking about it would be most unwise.

Taryl did not speak until they had left the Triad's wing and were back in the coach.

"When we get back to the High Command post, I'd like you to impose on Majer Xerya to show you anything she thinks might someday be within your capability, even if you cannot do it now or in the near future."

"Ser?"

"Rahl… think."

Rahl almost stopped dead in his boots. Why was… He shook his head. "Is that because I have to know it can be done by having seen it?"

"After the past year, you have to ask?" Taryl's tone was between exasperated and chiding.

What could Rahl say to that? Although Taryl's words had irritated him, the overcommander was right. It was just that he was trying to learn so much.

"Rahl… you have this tendency to feel sorry for yourself when you are overwhelmed with what you need to do and learn. I'm going to say something that I will not say again, but I expect you to remember it."

"Yes, ser."

"First, anyone who has ever done anything of true worth has been overwhelmed. Only the lazy, the incompetent, and the ignorant have not experienced that feeling when working hard at something. Second, no one cares if you feel overwhelmed. They only want the task at hand accomplished. Feeling sorry for yourself just distracts you and wastes time and effort." Taryl pointed to the smaller stack of dispatches. "You have more than a little reading to do."

"Yes, ser."

There were definitely aspects to being a mage-guard that Rahl had never considered. He picked up the dispatches and began to read once more.

The remainder of oneday and most of twoday blurred together for Rahl, perhaps because his head was splitting by the time he got out of the coach back at the High Command. Trying to read through the dispatches was almost as bad as copying Natural Philosophies had been when he'd been an apprentice scrivener. Half the officers wrote too little, and the other half wrote too much in phrases that sounded as though they were trying to please an ancient master of rhetoric, perhaps even an ancient Cyadoran master of rhetoric.

After Taryl left him, Rahl had gone to the infirmary and conveyed Taryl's wishes to Majer Xerya. She had promptly made him accompany her for the entire remainder of the day, which had included using order and a sharp surgical saw to amputate a leg, assisting as he could in setting and splinting a broken lower arm, and lancing and cleaning a number of boils. Rahl managed to get adequately proficient with boils and small eruptions that Xerya had him handle several on his own, if under her watchful eye. He had to admit that he had a far greater respect for the majer-and for Deybri-when he walked slowly back to his quarters to wash up for the evening meal in the mess.