L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

Suvorn had definitely departed, and in haste.

Rahl stepped back out into the cool and raw morning air. All four troopers and their mounts were drawn up outside the hut, waiting.

"Sir, there's a shed out back, just big enough for a single mount. It's been used recent-like."

"Thank you." Rahl swung up into the saddle, not quite so awkwardly as he first had, but still with a lack of grace. "We'll head back and join the rest of the squad. Then we'll be riding back to town."

There wasn't much point in chasing Suvorn, but he would need to write a more detailed report for the messenger to take to Taryl. He could only hope that the rest of the campaign forces would start to follow them. Otherwise, Third Company would have to stop sending messengers before long because they'd have more troopers carrying messages than scouting.

He didn't like the way matters were going. Not at all. He and Third Company were something like eighty kays from Kysha, with almost three hundred to go left on the way to Dawhut, and he was already discovering more planning by the rebels and less knowledge by the locals of what was happening around them.

Eightday morning found Rahl and Drakeyt riding southwest once more, through a mist that had not yet developed into rain, and might not, Rahl realized. Ever since they had left Kysha, and especially over the last few days, he'd been using his order-abilities to track the water in the air to the north, but a southerly wind he had never even sensed coming had sprung up and had met the cooler clouds from the north and, instead of rain, they had mist.

As he brushed water droplets off the oiled leather of his tan riding jacket, he wondered how any mage ever became much good at forecasting the weather. There were so many things to consider.

The night before, he'd written a few paragraphs in his narrative letter to Deybri, trying to explain to her his feelings about being unable to do much for Edelana and how the effects of one prince's greed or wish for greater power ended up in the death of a man whose only connection was that he'd accepted a silver to help fix a broken axle. What he hadn't written was his fear that incidents such as those in Istvyla would be trivial once actual battles were joined.

He also wished that he could just talk to Deybri. Would that ever happen again?

"You're quiet this morning," offered Drakeyt.

"There's not much to say," replied Rahl, "except that it's wet, and there's a long ways to go before we reach Dawhut."

"That's war for you, a lot of travel and discomfort until you fight, and then there's no travel and even more discomfort."

"That sounds like experience speaking." Rahl didn't know how the captain would have gotten much experience.

"Only a little. I was with the force that the High Command sent to Worrak to rout out the pirate crew there. They said we'd be done in eight-days. It took two seasons, and we lost three men in ten."

"I never heard about that."

"Almost no one did. The High Command is always sending companies here and there, usually in Candar. My cousin Hautyl was part of the campaign against the Southern Quarter in Nordla, but that was almost ten years back. We lost half the force, and he was lucky to come back losing only one arm and getting a stipend."

"Nordla? What did they do?"

"Oh, the local Lord of the Quadrant impounded some of our ships and claimed that our traders were cheating his traders. The Emperor thought letting him get away with it was a bad idea. So we assaulted Surien. I suppose it did the job. Between the fleet and the infantry, we destroyed most of the merchanters and their warehouses and made the harbor so impassable it was a year before they could use it." Drakeyt snorted. "Golyat was in charge of the campaign. That was before he became administrator of Merowey. It only cost us a thousand troopers, but no one in Nordla messed with our traders. Not for another generation, anyway."

"He was in charge of the campaign? Was he that good?"

"I heard that the High Command complained to the Emperor, but the Triad reviewed everything, and Golyat submitted a report on Surien's defenses."

"Oh…"

Drakeyt looked sideways through the mist at Rahl.

"I wonder…" After a moment, Rahl went on. "We're going to ride some seven hundred kays, when the fleet could be outside Nubyat in an eightday or two. I couldn't figure that out. Someone had mentioned harbor defenses in one briefing, but…"

"You're thinking that Golyat studied how the Nordlans did it and has been fortifying Nubyat and Sastak?"

Rahl shrugged. "It's a thought, but no one told me anything."

"As much as anything in war makes sense, that does."

"Is that why Fairhaven might be supporting Prince Golyat? Because they want the revolt to go on and on?"

"Who knows-except that anything that ties up our fleet and raises our tariffs benefits their traders."

"And the Jeranyi," Rahl added.

"The Jeranyi just like trouble." Drakeyt paused, then asked, "How did you figure out what happened in Istvyla so quickly?"

Rahl shrugged. "I suppose it was because I'd seen it before. When we rode into the square, and everyone gathered, one fellow-the one we didn't catch-was at the edge of the crowd. He looked at you, then at me, and he left, even before we said anything."

"You thought… from that?"

"It wasn't his leaving, but the way he left," Rahl replied. "You can't be a harbor or city mage-guard for long without seeing it. Most people can't hide the guilt at having done something. Istvyla's just a hamlet, too. Why would he leave in a guilty fashion just on seeing us?"

"You were city mage-guard?"

"A harbor mage-guard in Swartheld. Not for that long."

"What did you do before that?"

"I was a mage-clerk in Luba." Rahl didn't want to say that much more. "What bothers me about this is the planning."

"You mean that someone sent this Suvorn out here more than a season ago, with enough coin, just to be able to help the rebels with the cannon? It wouldn't take that much coin," replied Drakeyt.

"It's not the coin; it's that they found the one man whom everyone would accept without suspicion, or too much suspicion." Rahl also suspected that the episode with the cannon had been designed to play on the marshal's caution, and he wondered how many other incidents there might be that were designed to slow the campaign without much cost in men and materiel to the rebels. "There have to have been some High Command officers backing Prince Golyat."

"You think anyone's going to admit that or tell us?"

Drakeyt had a good point there. "It's not likely."

"We'll find that out the hard way." The captain frowned. "And we'll find more surprises. That's what we're here for-so that the main force doesn't find them." He shook his head. "They will anyway, but the fewer they encounter, the better."

Rahl agreed with that, but someone had planned the revolt for a long time, and they also had the help of mage-guards and some senior High Command officers.

Over the next eightday, little changed. Third Company followed the road as it wound through the endless high forests of Merowey, past and through small hamlet after small hamlet. Rahl saw little on the road itself except timber wagons, and few enough of those. The farther they rode from Kysha, the fewer the wagons, and the more often they held the rarer woods, such as black oak or cinnamon goldenwood. He did not see any lorken.

The locals accepted, if grudgingly, the script proffered by Drakeyt in return for supplies. They might have to wait for actual coins, but the alternatives were far worse. Actual progress was comparatively slow, because of the need to scout and to question locals, and because for two of the days, Third Company had taken refuge in scattered barns around the hamlet of Azakleth, rather than attempt to ride through rain that varied between coming down in sheets and coming down mixed occasionally with hail.