L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

Rahl sensed the absolute conviction and power of command projected by Taryl.

After a moment, so did Dettyr. "Ah… I can see your concerns, Over-commander. Perhaps I was a bit hasty, but… I trust you understand… and, as was reported to me, much of this could be laid at the feet of a certain mage-guard. Are not those mage-guards your responsibility."

"They are, and that is why I was appointed. I also might note that Mage-Guard Rahl only initially used disabling force against my attacker and the rebel mage-guard. Your officers had only to step away. They did not."

"But were they not under the control of the rebel mage-guard?"

"Your officers could not have been under his control without their consent at some level. A mage-guard of his comparatively limited power could not compel individuals against their will. The fact that Rahl was able to overcome him so easily attests to his limits-and to the complicity of your officers." Taryl smiled politely. "Now… I am most certain we could trade blame and counterblame for some time. For various reasons, I would rather not. Nor should you wish to. It would be far more productive for us to work together." Taryl turned to Rahl. "If you would excuse us."

"Yes, ser." Rahl inclined his head politely, then stepped back and eased out of the study.

The orderly looked at Rahl, then to the trooper still laid out on the ancient wooden floor. "Ah… ser?"

"Have someone put him in confinement until he wakes up. He could be charged with assaulting an officer. Whether he is remains up to the over-commander and the submarshal. Oh… his right lower arm is broken."

"Yes, ser."

Rahl sat down on a bench against the wall. He was tired, not quite light-headed, but he'd definitely had an order workout. His hand touched the hilt of his truncheon. He smiled ruefully. He didn't even remember replacing it in his belt half sheath.

While Rahl waited for Taryl, the orderly kept looking at Rahl. When a messenger arrived, the orderly murmured to him, and the messenger scurried off. Within moments, two burly troopers appeared and carried off the limp form of the trooper who had attempted to attack Taryl.

Shortly after that, Taryl emerged from the study and nodded to Rahl.

As they walked out of headquarters, Taryl asked, "What did you say about the injured trooper?"

"I told them he needed to be confined for now, that he'd attacked you, and that you and the submarshal would decide upon further action."

"Good."

Taryl walked down to the wagon and the squad leader who was the driver.

"Where to, ser?" The squad leader wouldn't look at Rahl.

"The senior quarters in back." Taryl climbed back onto the wagon, and Rahl followed.

"Yes, ser."

"I hope you won't mind," Taryl said, "but you'll have to sleep on the couch in my quarters for now. There aren't any beds for captains and below. Most of them are in the field bivouacs with their men."

"Whatever you think best, ser."

Rahl had certainly considered treachery from within the mage-guards, but he hadn't thought that he'd see it so blatantly within the troopers.

Taryl said little until he and Rahl and their gear were in a modest room that held a single bed, a wardrobe, a writing deck and chair, and a couch. "Not exactly lavish, but far better than most will have." He paused. "You have a question?"

"Why would those three try to have you attacked? And why that way?"

"That way? Because crossbows are quick, and it's hard for most mage-guards to stop an iron quarrel even if they know it's coming. Also because most mage-guards never look at troops. They usually check the officers and other mage guards."

"But why?"

"The possibilities are many," replied Taryl tiredly. "The mage-guard and the overcaptain may honestly have believed that Emperor Mythalt is governing poorly. Or they may have been promised greater rewards by Golyat, then conditioned without their knowing it. Or something else." After a moment, he added, "Few people ever know themselves or truly why they do what they do. They act, or decide to act, and then they justify what they have done. That's why there are so few druids."

What did druids have to do with Hamor? So far as Rahl knew, there weren't any outside of the Great Forest in Candar. "Ah… ser, I.."

"You don't understand? To become a full druid, you have to be a black or at least a gray mage, and you have to undergo a trial. The trial supposedly requires facing the worst of yourself armed with all of the order and chaos-powers you possess. To survive it, you must know yourself, or learn to know yourself during the trial."

Rahl frowned. That didn't sound so bad.

"Would you want to face an ordermage who knew every little thing you did wrong-from what you thought when you seduced that girl in Land's End to what you thought when you first saw Saulya?" asked Taryl softly. "Or every rebellious or disloyal thought you had toward your parents?"

"Oh…" Rahl paused, then asked quickly, "Where did you find that out? I've never read anything like that."

"So far as I know, it's not written anywhere. I once met a druid in Diehl, when I was not much older than you are now. He showed me just the tiniest part of what their trial was like. He also showed it to a senior mage-guard. The other mage-guard died horribly right there. Several others did during that expedition as well. That's one reason why the High Command has little interest in Naclos."

"One?"

"That, and the battle cruiser that fell apart at the docks there, and the two hundred sailors and officers who died."

Sensing the absolute directness behind Taryl's words, Rahl was silent.

Taryl forced a smile. "As for why the officers did it? Such a simple question, but like so many simple questions, we'll never know the answer. Someone will provide a simple answer, because that's what everyone wants. It will be wrong, but most will choose to believe it, because that's so much easier. Based on that incorrect simple answer, people will act, and what they will do will most likely make matters worse than if they'd admitted they didn't have an answer."

Rahl wasn't certain about that. "How can people act correctly when they don't know why something happened?"

"Think of it this way. If you admit you don't know, but you know you have to act, then you can base your acts on looking at what faces you and asking yourself what is the best thing to do. If you react to a simple and incorrect answer to your question, you risk compounding the error." He took a deep breath. "We need to get you moved to Third Company tomorrow, and we need to get them on their way."

"How will you do that? The submarshal doesn't seem like he wants to do anything."

"But…" replied Taryl with a smile, "he doesn't want any trouble here, and he wants to create the impression that he is doing things effectively. So I've already suggested that by immediately transferring you, he can accomplish both. After all, if you stayed here, you might find more traitors, and he doesn't want that, and by sending you and Third Company out to scout, he can claim he's preparing the way for the main body of forces. He can also blame all the trouble on you. That won't work for long. If there's more trouble, or if someone in Cigoerne High Command gets worried, Byrna won't make them happy by trying to replace you. He'll need someone higher, and the submarshal will fill the bill-and Byrna can then claim that he's doing his best to work with the mage-guards."

"I see." Rahl was getting the feeling that he might actually be far happier away from Kysha, even as miserable as he was likely to be riding a horse-if only Captain Drakeyt weren't like Helyrt.

Even after resting and eating, Rahl found that he was still exhausted, and he made his way back to Taryl's quarters. Taryl wasn't around, and Rahl just sat down on the couch. He wasn't sleepy, just tired. Was that because he'd used more order than he thought in dealing with the whole situation around the traitorous mage-guard? Was that another danger of being a natural ordermage?