L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

The squad leader stepped back and waited as Cheslyn presented himself to the two officers.

"Sers, you wanted to see me?" Cheslyn was far more subdued than he had been the night before.

Drakeyt nodded to Rahl.

Rahl opened his hand and revealed the knucklebones. "These are very well weighted bones, Cheslyn. A man wouldn't fail to make his point often with these. Sooner or later, he might get stabbed or strangled in his sleep, but until then he'd make his points. A friendly game of bones for a few coppers isn't anything an officer needs to get upset about, but a game where someone's using weighted bones is something else. Sooner or later, you'll end up dead if you keep that up. Or someone else will.

You're a good trooper, your squad leader says. We don't like losing good troopers. I don't know if the squad leader told you, but I'm an order mage-guard. That means I can tell when someone's cheating. You're not ever to cheat other men out of their coins. Ever. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ser."

"I'm also telling you that there won't be another warning. The next time you'll be flogged or dead." Rahl smiled politely and extended his shields until they pressed against the trooper for a moment. "Even when we're assigned to the High Command, mage-guards can execute Codex breakers without going to a court-martial or a flogging board. Is that clear?"

Cheslyn had paled somewhat at Rahl's words and extended shields, and he did not reply for a moment. "Yes, ser."

"Good. You can return to your duties."

"Yes, ser. Thank you, ser." Cheslyn turned.

Khasmyr escorted the trooper toward the other end of the stable.

"About now," Drakeyt said, "Khasmyr will be telling Cheslyn that he's lucky to be alive."

"And that he's fortunate you're his commander and not me?" asked Rahl with an ironic smile.

"He probably won't say that."

The intimation was that Khasmyr wouldn't have to.

"Why don't you take fourth and fifth squads out along the road to the south and see what you can find out on the west side of the road?" said Drakeyt. "Quelsyn can go due west with second squad, and I'll take first and third south on the east side."

Rahl nodded. "I'll see what we can find."

"There probably won't be much, but you never know. Don't push the mounts."

"I won't." Rahl knew too well that Drakeyt wanted an easy day for the horses-and the men.

This time, the scouting went exactly as Drakeyt had surmised. Rahl found no signs of rebels, no tracks, and no holders or turf-cutters who had seen any sign of either.

When Rahl and fourth and fifth squads returned to Fhydala while the sun was still above the western horizon, if barely visible through the clouds that had gradually thinned throughout the day, four troopers were waiting on the narrow porch of the Turf Inn.

"Ser, Captain Rahl?"

"Yes?"

"You have a dispatch bag from the overcommander. Have you seen Captain Drakeyt?"

"He should be here before long. He was patrolling to the southeast." Rahl turned in the saddle. "Squads, dismissed to your squad leaders."

"We have command, ser."

Once Fedeor and Fysett had ridden with their troopers past Rahl and across the square to the Red Coach, Rahl dismounted and tied the gelding to the iron ring on the brick hitching post, then climbed the three steps to the porch.

"Here you are, ser." The trooper handed a leather pouch to Rahl, tied shut with a simple knot.

"Thank you."

"Our pleasure, ser."

Rahl walked to one side of the porch and untied the pouch. He didn't feel like sitting, especially on one of the hard wooden backless benches. In the leather bag were two envelopes. One bore a Mage-Guard seal; the other was addressed to him in Kysha, but in care of "Mage-Guard Over-commander, Merowey." The handwriting was feminine, and the single initial on the seal was a "D." Deybri. She'd written him. How had she thought of sending it in care of the overcommander? Did he dare open it? Was it a sweet and polite dismissal? Could he expect any more than that? He couldn't take that thought, not at the moment, and he slipped her letter inside his riding jacket.

The other had to be from Taryl, and the sooner he opened that one, the better. He used his belt knife to slit it carefully, absently noting that the edge of the blade bore a slight white sheen of chaos that he had not felt before. He read quickly but carefully.

Mage-Guard Rahl-

From our best estimates, at present, on this sevenday, our forces are less than two days travel time behind you. The submarshal has instructed Captain Drakeyt to wait for us at the town of Saluzyl, if we do not meet up with you before then. You are to scout the approaches to Dawhut, but not to approach nearer than ten kays on such scouting missions. Several smaller high-speed frigates under the ensign of Fairhaven used the cover of a storm and darkness to enter Nubyat two eightdays ago. Given the chaos surrounding them, it is likely that several white wizards were on board. They will not be involved in action far from Nubyat, I would judge, but their presence may free other mages for more adventurous enterprises.

I have also enclosed a letter, presumably from the healer in Recluce. Should you wish to respond, once we rejoin you, such correspondence can be carried with dispatches, although the charge is five silvers.

Except for the elaborate "T" at the bottom, that was the extent of the dispatch. Rahl folded it and put it back into the envelope, then slipped the letter and pouch under his arm before leaving the porch and remounting the gelding. He rode to the stable at a walk, thinking.

White wizards supporting the rebels? It made sense if Fairhaven wanted to weaken Hamor. But would weakening Hamor really strengthen Fairhaven? Outside of trade, Hamor hadn't had that much to do with Candar, and especially with Fairhaven. From what he'd observed in Nylan, Rahl could see that weakening Hamor didn't benefit Recluce. Wouldn't the same be true regarding Fairhaven and Hamor? Did Fairhaven see Hamor as a potential enemy?

He shook his head. Any land that was strong could be considered a potential enemy. He replaced the letter in the pouch and walked down to his mount, leading the gelding to the stable.

Once he stabled and unsaddled his mount, Rahl forced himself to take his time in grooming the gelding. The mount shouldn't suffer because of his impatience. Besides, he wasn't certain he wanted to know what was in the letter from Deybri.

Just as he finished and was ready to leave the stable, Drakeyt led his mount in.

"How did it go?" Rahl asked.

"Same as always. No one's seen anything. No one's heard anything, and there aren't any tracks anywhere. What about you?"

"The same," Rahl admitted. "It's like they just left this part of Merowey alone." He paused. "Did you get the dispatches for you?"

"There was just one. The submarshal wants us to stop and wait for him at Saluzyl. According to the maps, it's fifteen or twenty kays from Dawhut, maybe two days' ride from here the way we've been going. We're not to scout closer than ten kays."

"Did he say why?"

"Submarshals never explain. Not this one. That's all he said."

"I got a dispatch from the overcommander. He wrote about the same, but he also said that some Fairhaven fast frigates avoided the fleet and ported in Nubyat. He thought they might have some white wizards on board."

"That's all we need-more chaos types for the rebels."

"They didn't send fleets or large numbers of troops," Rahl pointed out.

"Of course not. They'd prefer to cause trouble with as little cost as possible."

That description fit more than a few people, Rahl thought, and Puvort came immediately to mind. Rather than exert himself in the slightest, the magister just pushed people into exile, and some of the magisters and magistras in Nylan weren't much better. For that matter, he conceded silently, some in Cigoerne seemed the same way-especially Cyphryt, but he wasn't so sure about Fieryn, either.