L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

He stretched out on the bed and slept, if uneasily, waking early on threeday morning, even stiffer and sorer than when he'd gone to bed.

He eased himself to his feet and used the pitcher and bowl to wash and shave as he could, then climbed into his uniform. He packed his gear, but left it on the bed and headed down the stairs to see if he could get something to eat.

Drakeyt was already in the public room, although he could not have been there long because a small girl was standing at his table listening, and there was nothing on the table. Rahl eased into one of the other chairs.

"There's little enough choice for breakfast," Drakeyt said.

"We only have ham and fried heavy corn-and fresh bread. It's two coppers each for you."

"Do you have lager?" asked Rahl.

"No, ser. We have ale. It comes with breakfast, for you, Mama said."

"Then that's what we'll have," Drakeyt said.

"Yes, ser." The girl turned and walked quickly past the brick fireplace with its cold gray ashes and through an archway into the kitchen.

"How are you feeling this morning?" asked Drakeyt.

"Sore," Rahl admitted.

"It'll pass."

Rahl hoped so.

"I walked around some last night, talked to some of the locals," offered Drakeyt. "No one seems to have seen anything here."

"The town administrator was telling the truth about sending their tariffs to the Emperor." Rahl paused as the girl, who couldn't have been more than ten, approached and set two mugs of ale on the table.

"Your ales, ser. The rest will be here before long."

"Thank you."

The meal that arrived on orangish brown crockery platters might best have been described as hash composed of chopped corn niblets, bits of carrot, and ham chunks held together with glue and a hint of egg. Rahl just looked at it for a moment.

"It's good," the girl said. "You'll see."

Rahl couldn't help smiling as he put three coppers on the table. "You help a lot around here, I'd wager."

"Yes, ser." With that she was gone, almost scampering back to the kitchen, but not until she'd collected the three coppers from both officers.

Rahl took a bite. Surprisingly, it wasn't bad. He wasn't sure he would have called it good, but he'd eaten far worse, and the bread was hot and good. He did save the largest carrot chunk, still partly raw.

"Good bread," offered Drakeyt. "The rest is filling."

They ate quickly, and neither left anything, although Rahl did save half his small loaf of bread and slip it into his cold-weather jacket pocket.

"Wise man."

"I didn't have a chance to gather much else," Rahl pointed out.

"We'll be heading out shortly," Drakeyt offered as he rose from the table.

"I thought I might have a word with the chandler," Rahl said. "My gear is ready, and I'll get saddled and ride over there. It shouldn't take long."

"I thought we'd split the company. You want to go north or south?"

"North. I'd like to see if I can find anything about the raiders who fired on the Fyrador. "

"I'll send Quelsyn with you and two squads. He's the senior squad leader. They'll form up outside the stables and wait for you if you're not back when I take the other squads south."

"I'll try not to keep anyone waiting."

After leaving Drakeyt, Rahl gathered his gear and walked out into the morning chill and toward the stable across the churned clay that would have been ankle-deep mud had there been any rain at all. Outside the stable he paused, looking to the north, but the wind was light and the clouds thin. He spent a moment probing the air to the north, but he sensed little water in the thin clouds. There was a hint of more, but beyond the range of his abilities.

He entered the stable, with careful steps, making his way to the third stall. There, he set down his gear and studied the gelding. If he could just remember how to saddle the horse… he looked at the saddle blanket. That came first.

"Be needing a hand, ser?"

Rahl turned to see a young trooper standing there and smiling. He grinned back. "I could, but I'd better do it myself. You just might not be here next time. I would appreciate it if you'd watch and tell me if I'm going wrong."

"Yes, ser." The trooper smiled.

Before even lifting the blanket, Rahl eased up beside the gelding's shoulder, patting him and projecting both control and warmth. The horse tossed his head slightly, then turned it. Rahl offered the small chunk of carrot he had brought from the inn, on his open palm. The gelding took it, gently. Then Rahl slipped the saddle blanket in place, followed by the saddle.

"Ser… be better if the blanket and saddle were just a touch back, maybe half a span."

"Thank you."

When Rahl finished, he turned to the trooper. "If you'd check for me, I'd appreciate it."

The trooper went over everything, and Rahl could sense his increasing puzzlement.

Finally, he stepped back and turned to Rahl. "Looks good, ser."

"You're wondering why I asked you?" Rahl smiled. "This is only the second time I've saddled a horse. I can tell a bit by how the horse feels, but that might not be a good guide, and I don't have enough experience to know yet."

"Looks like you learn fast, ser. Big thing is to make sure he doesn't puff up his belly when you're tightening the cinches. He does that, and then they're loose, and you end up on the ground when you try to mount."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind." Rahl fastened his bedroll and gear behind the saddle and led the gelding out of the stable. He wasn't looking forward to mounting.

Mounting wasn't painful; it just reminded him of how stiff he was in certain areas of his body. He turned the gelding northward.

Early as it was, many of the shops and dwellings were still shuttered, and whitish gray smoke rose from the chimneys into the clear green-blue sky. When Rahl rode through places where there were shadows, he could see his breath, although he didn't think it had actually gotten cold enough for anything to freeze. "Not yet," he murmured.

The chandler was just unshuttering his place when Rahl reined up and dismounted.

"You're out early, ser. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for travel food and information." Rahl tied his mount to the short iron railing set between two posts.

"We've got some of the first, not much of the second-except gossip, and I don't imagine that's what you're looking for." The chandler took the two steps up from the ancient stone sidewalk onto the narrow stoop with a single bound, then held the door for Rahl. "Might as well pick what you need."

The chandlery wasn't all that large, nor was it well lit. Even so, it only took a quick survey for Rahl to find what he thought would be most useful-and within his still-limited means. He brought a package of heavy biscuits, some strips of dried beef, and a wedge of hard white cheese up to the narrow counter at the side where the chandler waited.

"That'll be eight coppers, ser. We don't see many mage-guards here, ser, not even passing through."

Rahl nodded. "I imagine that's so. For the size of Hamor, there aren't that many mage-guards, and the Triad doesn't send us where we're not needed. I might be wrong, but I'm guessing that you don't have much of the kind of trouble that needs a mage-guard."

"You'd not be far wrong on that. Folks here know each other, and they know who to trust and who has to pay hard coin first."

"What about travelers? They have to pay hard coin, but have you seen any that you'd not trust if they lived here?"

"I can't say as I have, but then since the troubles on the coast began we've not seen all that many travelers, and most of them have come from the east out of Kysha." The chandler paused. "Some of those I'd not let out of my sight until they paid and left the shop."

"Did any of those come through here recently?"