L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

Rahl could sense both the man's recognition of his mage-guard uniform, even under the cold-weather riding jacket, and the immediate fear that followed that recognition. The man eased toward the back of the group, then stepped off the side of the unrailed porch and vanished into the shadows between the chandlery and the neat-but-weathered stable of the inn.

Rahl wondered exactly what the man had done that he so feared the appearance of a mage-guard. Most probably someone who had committed an offense in one of the larger towns and fled before being caught. Still

… that much fear suggested more than a minor offense. Since the man had been accepted by the others and since he was attired neither shabbily nor extravagantly, Rahl suspected that he'd been living in Istvyla for at least a while.

"… we'll need quarters of some sort," Drakeyt added, "and food and fodder. We can pay."

"In the Emperor's script, no doubt."

"Captains do not carry golds," replied Drakeyt, "and the Emperor's script is always good."

"But not immediately," Hyalf pointed out. "One must often wait for a season until a disburser arrives."

"You can trade it among yourselves," Drakeyt responded.

"There's some that won't take it, beggin' your pardon, ser Captain."

"That may well be, but that's their problem, and it's far better than in Candar, where there's no payment for quarters or food and fodder."

Hyalf nodded slowly, and Rahl could sense his doubt-and Drakeyt's concealed irritation.

"As you say, ser Captain, late payment is far better than no payment, but unless you wish to take dwellings, the inn and its stable and holders' barns are the only shelter available."

"We'll put up as many as we can at the inn and its stables. Then we'll use the largest and driest barns. You must know the largest barns, and you will disburse the script, except to the inn, but we will let the holders know that and how much they will receive. You will receive a small stipend for your trouble as well."

Hyalf was clearly not pleased with the arrangements laid out by Drakeyt.

After loosening his riding jacket enough to show his mage-guard uniform, Rahl adjusted his visor cap with the sunburst and eased his mount forward beside the captain. "I understand you have done a good job as clerk for Istvyla." Rahl smiled. "It would be a shame if the Mage-Guard Overcommander had to break in a new clerk."

Hyalf turned toward Rahl, his annoyance increasing-until he saw the uniform. "Ah… I'm certain that won't be necessary, ser. No, ser."

Rahl said nothing for a moment and just continued to smile pleasantly.

A thin sheen of perspiration appeared on the clerk's forehead, despite the cool breeze.

"I'm glad it won't be, and I'm sure you'll do your best to work matters out so that everyone is accommodated without upsetting the people here."

"Yes, ser."

"We'll see what's available at the inn, first for supplies," Drakeyt said. "You should come with us. That way, you'll have a better idea of what else we'll need."

"Yes, ser."

Drakeyt turned in the saddle. "Quelsyn, first, third, and fourth squads remain here until we see what arrangements we have. Second squad comes with Captain Rahl and me."

The senior squad leader nodded.

The captain turned back to the town clerk. "Over to the inn."

"Yes, ser." Hyalf began to walk quickly toward the inn, giving the company formation a wide berth.

Drakeyt eased his mount over beside Rahl's so that they were almost stirrup to stirrup. "I knew that little bastard wanted to pocket script and coins, and he knew I knew," murmured Drakeyt. "But he was still going to try to do it. That doesn't make sense. I could have cut him down where he stood."

"You could have," Rahl agreed, "but it was easier this way."

Drakeyt nodded slowly. "They've never seen a war."

"But they know a mage-guard can mete out justice on the spot," Rahl replied.

"You're not a chaos type, though."

Rahl smiled. "The riding truncheon is the same length as a mage-guard falchiona. How would he know the difference?" He didn't mention that the truncheon backed with order could be as deadly as chaos-flame. He just had to get closer.

Drakeyt laughed.

Rahl and Drakeyt sat at opposite sides at one end of a long table in the White Chalice, a prepossessing name for a modest inn, Rahl thought. Breakfast was egg toast with honey-redberry syrup and thick ham slices, with spiced pearapples on the side. Rahl had to admit that it was far better than the fare at the Painted Pony had been.

The public room was far smaller, and held only four trestle tables, all of them flanked with backless benches. Second squad had already eaten, and Rahl could sense first squad forming up outside.

"Only hamlets and small towns from here to Dawhut?" asked Rahl, spearing the last slice of ham on the wooden platter.

"Mostly smaller than that." Drakeyt took a swallow of his ale. "The next place even as big as Istvyla is Koldyrk, and that's a good hundred kays on. We'll see plenty of hamlets, and more than a few timber wagons, and probably more than a few spirit wagons. South and east of Koldyrk is where they brew Vyrna."

Rahl had never heard of Vyrna. "What kind of drink is that?"

"Oh, it's smoother than polished lager and has twice the kick of leshak, and costs half as much. Most of it gets shipped to Austra. For some reason, they like it there."

"Folks don't like it here?"

"Oh, they do, but way back one of the emperors-I think it was Dhanocyr-tariffed it to bring in golds. The tariff is levied at the ports-Nubyat, and I suppose, Sastak and Elmari. The wagons carry the kegs to the barge piers in Dawhut, and they go down the Awhut River to Nubyat…"

Rahl wasn't sure any of that made sense, unless the cost of using wagons to carry the kegs anywhere else was far higher than the tariffs.

"Less than a hundred kays from the farthest still to Dawhut, and some are less than a day's drive from there… It doesn't cost that much more to ship Vyrna to Valmurl than to Swartheld, and the Austrans will pay twice as much. So most of it goes to the drunken northerners." Drakeyt shook his head. "They say that there are some places in Austra, like Vizyn, where the ice only melts for three or four eightdays a year. No wonder they like spirits."

"How far is it from Koldyrk to Dawhut?"

"If… if the maps are right, close on a hundred fifty kays."

"It'll be full winter before we reach Nubyat."

"If then."

Rahl and Drakeyt both looked up at the sound of voices. One was too high-pitched to be a trooper.

"There they are!"

Hyalf and a red-headed woman a good ten years older than Rahl walked toward the two officers. The two stopped short of the table.

"Sers, this is Edelana, and her Eskar was killed because you're here." Hyalf inclined his head.

"Because we're here?" Drakeyt raised his eyebrows.

"Eskar… all he said was that Suvorn wouldn't listen and that it was your fault." The woman's voice was rough and uneven, in keeping with her faded and worn blue trousers and the patched gray-wool jacket. Her eyes were red.

"Our fault?" asked Drakeyt.

"His fault." Edelana looked to Rahl. "His fault. Eskar said it wouldn't have happened if the demon-cursed mage-guard hadn't shown up. He was bleeding bad, and then… he didn't say anything more."

"Just a moment," Drakeyt interjected. "Did this Suvorn stab your consort?"

"That's what I've been saying. Suvorn killed my Eskar," replied Edelana. "We weren't as like properly consorted, but Eskar and me, we might as well have been."

"Was Suvorn in town when we rode in yesterday?" Rahl looked to Hyalf.

"He was at the chandlery yesterday afternoon, but I couldn't rightly say if he was there when you showed up." Hyalf did not quite look at Rahl.