L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

"I can get some idea with most people," Rahl replied. Almost anyone except a mage with good shields.

"That will help."

Rahl glanced to the north side of the road, then beyond the small herd of sheep beyond the split-rail fence to the south. On either side, beyond the scattered dwellings, the trees were taller, and the undergrowth far thicker than the scattered forests on Recluce, but that was probably because this part of Merowey got more rain than Recluce did. While he was thinking of rain, Rahl made another attempt to see if he could determine what the evening's weather might be. The wind had switched from the northeast to the northwest, and the air felt drier and cooler. He thought that meant less likelihood of rain, but he wasn't about to say so unless asked.

"There's a lot of forest here, and not that many people."

"The ground here doesn't suit most field crops. The forests belong to the Emperor, but they're rented to foresters who are allowed to cut a certain amount each year. Mostly the hardwoods for cabinets and furniture. That's one reason why the main road's paved. Those wagons are heavy. Then, there are places with nothing but nut orchards when we get closer to Dawhut."

"Are there more Imperial lands in Merowey?" Rahl asked.

"There are some in most administrative districts. Usually, they're places where farmers were using the land wrong. Most of them are rented at low tariffs, but with conditions on how the land can be used. That way, people get use of the lands, but they don't get ruined again."

"I was wondering why Prince Golyat…" Rahl didn't finish the sentence.

"Who knows?" Drakeyt shook his head. "Merowey's not the richest district, but it's not the poorest, either."

The company continued to ride southwest, with the outriders continually returning and reporting, but there were no signs of rebels. The company had to leave the road for timber wagons a half score of times. The road was wide enough to share with the other wagons-factors and farm wagons.

In late afternoon, the company rode up a long, gradual slope that leveled off into a flat area filled with orchards, some with different types of trees. Whatever the variety of nut being grown, the trees in that orchard were old, with broad trunks, but they had been pruned and shaped so that their tops were never more than ten or fifteen cubits.

"We must be getting close to Troinsta," Rahl said.

Drakeyt just nodded.

They rode another kay before the land and the road began to descend again, and Rahl could see Troinsta. The town was set in a valley close to five kays wide. A stream meandered down the middle of the valley, running from the south but angling to the northeast, probably eventually draining into the Swarth River, Rahl thought, conceivably not all that far from where the Fyrador had been attacked.

"Are there any back roads that run from Troinsta more to the northeast?" asked Rahl.

"There are back roads everywhere, but the maps we've got don't show them," Drakeyt replied. "Why?"

"Some rebels had a cannon on the river, and they fired on the Fyrador. Roads tend to follow water." Rahl had read that in the tactics manual, but he didn't have to admit it. "I was looking at the stream down there, and it runs northeast. It struck me that it might enter the Swarth about where we took fire."

"We'll have to keep that in mind," replied the captain. "I've already sent an outrider patrol forward to scout around the town. They won't find much, but it's good practice. The closer we get to Dawhut, the more careful we'll have to be."

"I thought Dawhut was loyal to the Emperor."

"That's what the reports we get say. Even if it is, it doesn't mean that there aren't rebels in the lands outside the city, or that there won't be attacks or raids."

The sun was hanging just above the hills to the west when Third Company rode into Troinsta. The town was laid out in the same fashion as most towns and cities in Hamor were, at least from what Rahl could determine, with a cleared area of grassy meadows, now winter brown, just outside the outermost dwellings. There was no sprawl of huts or hovels away from the town proper. The main streets and roads were laid out in a grid, with all the dwellings and other buildings with walls of either stone or brick. Troinsta had both, but the roof tiles were all the same shade, a grayish faded pink. The shutters and the doors were all painted, and most shutters matched the doors.

While a few people hurried away from the road, which after crossing a stone bridge turned into the main street, most just watched as Third Company rode into the town. By the time the company reined up in the town square, both the local town administrator and the head of the local patrollers were waiting.

The administrator was a heavyset and round-faced blond man who might normally have looked jovial, but his worried expression and manner overrode any sense of joviality. He looked at Drakeyt, but his eyes kept returning to Rahl. "Everyone here is loyal to the Emperor, most loyal, Captain… Mage-Guard. There's not a rebel here, not a one, and we wouldn't be having it, even if there were."

Rahl could sense both the truth and the fear in the administrator's words.

"We've been sending our reports and tariffs direct to Cigoerne, sers. You must know that."

Drakeyt glanced to Rahl.

Rahl nodded.

"Since you all are loyal," Drakeyt said, "I'm certain you will be able to help us settle in for a few days. We need a base to do some scouting. Even though Troinsta is most loyal, we'll need to make sure that loyalty extends to the lands around it."

"Ah… we can do that. The inns haven't been seeing that many travelers, and we've got some barns…" The administrator's head bobbed up and down.

Drakeyt turned to the local patrol chief, a rangy graying man wearing a pale blue uniform long-sleeved uniform shirt, a darker blue vest, and khaki trousers. "What have you seen and heard?"

The patroller glanced from Drakeyt to Rahl, then back to the captain before he replied, "We haven't seen much of anything here, sers. Some of the steadholders to the north, the ones that harvest the hardwoods-the ones that go downriver to Cigoerne and Swartheld-one of them claimed he saw wagons on the back lanes, must have been an eightday ago."

"You don't get many travelers here, I wouldn't think," offered Drakeyt. "Not in the winter."

"No, ser."

"Has anyone been complaining about their sheds or barns being raided, or things missing?"

"There's always some of that." The patroller looked to Rahl. "Not being a mage-guard, I can't always tell who might be telling what. I can't say that there's been more than usual, though, not unless someone's not saying, and that's always possible."

"We'll be talking to people, and we'll be sending patrols around, but for now, we need to get the company and mounts settled." Drakeyt smiled politely. "Where are these inns?"

Rahl stayed with Drakeyt all through the process of getting Third Company settled into the area close to the larger inn-the Painted Pony-even though his thighs felt raw from all the riding. While he certainly didn't want anything to happen to the captain, he also didn't want to be any more unprepared than he had to be if something did happen to Drakeyt, and the more Rahl knew about what the company commander did, the less unprepared he'd be.

He and Drakeyt ate a modest meal at the inn, late, and Rahl probed gently about as much as he could about the company, while, in turn, Drakeyt asked similarly gentle questions about what he could expect from Rahl as a mage-guard.

After dinner and then accompanying Drakeyt on an inspection tour of all the areas that held the company, Rahl retired to a room in the Painted Pony, one not that much larger than the cabin on the freighter, with a single bed and little more. He had thought about adding to his letter to Deybri, except his buttocks and thighs were so sore that he doubted that he could sit for long enough on the single stool to write.