L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

"Shereena… it's time to come inside."

The girl rose, timidly. The mother extended her hand and took her daughter's hand firmly, but not roughly. Rahl watched as the two reentered the building. Neither looked back.

Finally, Rahl turned and continued toward the Painted Pony.

What else could he have done? He had the feeling that the child had been hurt, but no chaos had been involved, and he hadn't sensed any overt physical injury. The mother hadn't broken the Codex, not that he knew. Also, he wasn't a mage-guard assigned to Troinsta. Yet.. he still worried about the girl.

As he neared the inn, his eyes took in the signboard-a flat piece of wood some two cubits by three on which was painted, almost crudely, a pony standing on its hind hoofs with a beaker set on a front hoof. The pony's coat was depicted in irregular splotches of faded color-maroon, black, white, yellow, and blue. Looking closely, Rahl could see that someone had tried to paint over an original signboard, using the old work as a base, but the more recent painting had been far less skillful.

The same small girl who had served breakfast led him to the corner of the public room.

"Here you are, ser."

"Thank you. The other captain will be joining me shortly."

"Yes, ser. Would you like two ales? They come with dinner."

"Yes, we would."

"I'll bring them." She turned and hurried toward the kitchen.

Rahl repressed a smile at her seriousness, even as he mentally compared her to the child he had encountered outside the stable. The inn girl might have to work, but she had a confidence that bespoke a far more settled life.

He glanced around the public room. Unlike at breakfast, there was a scattering of others in the room. He did note that neither of the adjoining tables held patrons, and he doubted that was by coincidence. Nor was the fact that the girl served them. The child could not reveal to a mage-guard what she did not know.

Rahl wondered what, if anything, the innkeeper was hiding, or if he was operating out of caution. Rahl suspected caution, but one never knew. He also realized that there was a great danger in sensing too much. All too many folks had secrets they did not wish disclosed. That had to be one reason why the mage-guards were tasked with maintaining order and minimizing chaos under a simple Codex. More than that would have been impossible for the limited number of mage-guards.

Rahl was still waiting for the ales when Drakeyt eased into the old straight-backed chair on the other side of the square table. "We have ales coming. I don't know what the fare is yet."

"Whatever it is will be better than field rations."

"How was your visit with the administrator?" asked Rahl.

"He didn't like the idea of feeding prisoners, maybe for eightdays. I asked him if he wanted to upset the Mage-Guard Overcommander of Merowey. He decided that feeding them wasn't so bad after all." Drakeyt laughed.

Before either man could say more, the inn girl returned with two of the earthenware mugs filled with ale. "Here you are, sers. Tonight the fare is mutton pie, and it's three coppers for you, and that includes one mug of ale."

Both men nodded. Rahl put three coppers on the table. So did Drakeyt.

"It won't be long, sers." She left the coppers and turned back toward the kitchen.

An older woman emerged from the kitchen archway carrying two platters. She set them on the other corner table, before two white-haired and heavyset men who could have been brothers from their appearance.

"I was thinking," offered Drakeyt. "If we check out the steads to the west tomorrow and leave first thing on fiveday, we can send back a messenger then, and he can get back to us quicker. Also, the field rations will go farther. There's no place to quarter, not really, until we get to Istvyla, and that's a good three days' ride, even without scouting."

"Just little hamlets?"

"If that. The northeast of Merowey has the fewest people. There aren't that many large towns until you get near the coast…"

Rahl mostly listened as Drakeyt talked, and the two ate. He still thought about the girl by the stable.

Third Company's patrols on fourday discovered no recent signs of rebels, nor did they on fiveday, sixday, or sevenday. On fourday, and on the following days during the ride southwest, Drakeyt had the company patrol separately by squads. Rahl led first squad along the narrower and more ancient old road. In more than a few places there were still remnants of deep wagon tracks, although the continuing light drizzle on fiveday and early sixday blurred those even more. After questioning more than a score of steadholders near the back road, Rahl found some who had noted the tracks but none who had actually been aware of the rebels' passing. With the heavily forested areas bordering the old road in most places, Rahl could understand how some of the holders might not have seen the wagons. But none of them hearing the wagons?

Was it just that most folk were so wrapped up in their own lives that little else penetrated unless it affected them? But then, he recalled wryly, he certainly hadn't paid that much attention to his parents' warnings about Jienela.

By late on sixday, the soreness in Rahl's legs and thighs had abated, and he could actually ride at more than a walk without feeling that he'd be pitched out of the saddle. At the same time, he was all too conscious that he was a long way from being a good rider, but he was able to get a better sense of what the gelding would do and how he responded to Rahl. Order-senses did help there.

Slightly after midafternoon on sevenday, the patrols reformed into the full company on the main road northeast of Istvyla and then rode into the town. Rahl counted dwellings on the way, and came up with only two score or so along the road on the north side of the hamlet before they reached the square. Of those locals near the road, none fled, but all moved back and watched the mounted infantry warily.

After riding into the center of Istvyla, the company drew up in formation in the square-little more than an expanse of packed reddish brown earth somewhat more than a hundred cubits on a side. Rahl surveyed the buildings-a small two-story inn that had doubtless seen better days even a century before, a chandlery with a wide and shallow porch supported by a mixture of crude stone and brick pillars, a shuttered smithy, a small brick structure that probably held the town administration and gaol, another building that looked to have a potter's kiln in the rear, and several others whose function he could not discern because they lacked signboards or because the lettering and images on the existing signboards had faded so much.

A square-bearded and graying figure walked deliberately from the town building toward the front of the formation. He stopped and looked at Drakeyt.

"What can we do for you, Captain?"

"We're the advance party for the Emperor's forces. Are you the town administrator?"

The man shook his head. "We don't have an administrator. I'm Hyalf. I get three silvers a season to act as town clerk. Course… haven't gotten the silvers for summer yet. You couldn't do anything about that, could you, Captain?"

"We can send word to the Emperor, Hyalf."

"If you would, Captain, I'd be much obliged."

"Have you seen any rebels around?"

"I can't say as I have. Can't say as I've heard of anyone else who has, either."

"Has anyone had any large amounts of anything stolen, or any horses?" pressed Drakeyt.

"If they have, they've not told me, and I'd likely have heard. I haven't."

Rahl could sense that Hyalf was telling the truth, at least as he saw it. So, as Drakeyt continued to talk to the town clerk, Rahl continued to take in his surroundings.

A small group of men gathered on the front porch of the chandlery, less than fifty cubits from where Rahl had reined up slightly back of Drakeyt. Rahl studied them quickly, with both eyes and order-senses. One of the men near the back of the group glanced at Rahl, then froze for a moment.