L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

Rahl didn't say anything for a moment. Did Taryl know just how abusive Dettyr had been? And how inaccurate?

"Just tell me, gently, where he was right, and where he was wrong," Taryl said.

"He was right to be displeased about having to repair the bridges and highways, but he was wrong to blame me or Captain Drakeyt. It would have occurred no matter who was scouting, and it was all part of something larger. The cannonading of the Fyrador took place before I ever joined Third Company. The rockslide was built before we set out from Kysha, and even if we had not triggered it, someone would have had to have taken it apart or it could have fallen anyway. The same was true of whatever dam or levee they used to create the flood. I could have stopped the first arrow trap if I'd known what to look for, and that out-rider died because I didn't have experience. Even so, I don't know how we could have avoided losing some of the troopers." Rahl frowned. "If I hadn't been thinking about the low water level in the river, it could have been worse. I don't know. Maybe I should have sensed something there, and gotten everyone clear of the flood, but I'd never seen the river before, and how could I have even known what the water level was supposed to be in early winter? Usually water levels are the lowest then anyway."

Taryl nodded. "All worthwhile experience has a price. Sometimes we pay it; sometimes others do. Most of the time, we pay but only a part of that price."

Rahl looked at Taryl. "You wanted things to be difficult, didn't you? For me."

"I didn't make them that way, but there were reasons why those difficulties will prove useful." Taryl handed Rahl an envelope. "Open it."

The last thing Rahl wanted to do after the submarshal's dressing down was to open a sealed envelope, but there was no help for it. He broke the seal and opened it. Inside was a heavy sheet of parchment with a seal at the bottom. He read the short section of parchment once, then blinked and read it again, his eyes falling on the key words-"having fulfilled the requirements, Mage-Guard Rahl is hereby promoted to the level of senior mage-guard."

He looked to Taryl, whose lips quirked into a faint smile.

"Senior mage-guard? After this?" Rahl gestured in the direction of the library and the submarshal. "I'm too young…"

Taryl laughed. "You are, but you need the rank and position, and I need you to have it. Senior mage-guards rank with majers."

"How did this happen?"

"The minimal requirements are much higher levels of proficiency with weapons and with control of order or chaos. You had those before we left Cigoerne. What did you think those tests were for?"

"I didn't know. I just thought you were trying to get me prepared for the campaign."

"The other requirement is an absolute. A mage-guard must have completed two tours of duty in different locales and have a position of greater responsibility in a third tour before he or she can be promoted to senior mage-guard."

"But… none of my tours were that long."

Taryl's eyes seemed to laugh. "The procedures don't mention that. They just require completion with an excellent rating. You managed that."

"The submarshal won't be happy with this."

"He won't be, but that's not your worry. I'm the one who promoted you, and the worry is mine. Jubyl also agreed and wrote a recommendation for you as well. So did Mage-Captain Jyrolt." The thin-faced mage-guard frowned. "Matters will come to a head before long."

"How so, ser?"

"I'd prefer not to speculate, but you know what you did, and you know how the submarshal reacted. You have also met the marshal."

"What should I do?"

"Just keep Third Company from taking too many losses."

Rahl considered matters for a moment. "I have this feeling that matters are going to get much worse, or you wouldn't be pushing me."

"They may be even worse than you can imagine." Taryl's voice was sober and low.

Rahl waited for the explanation. There was none. "Is this because of the white wizards from Fairhaven?"

"I want you to be most alert, but I'd prefer that you come to your own conclusions." Taryl offered a sad smile. "You need to get back to Third Company and talk to Captain Drakeyt. Try to listen more than you talk." He paused, then handed Rahl a pouch. "Here are the senior sunbursts for your visor cap and the insignia for your uniforms."

"Senior sunbursts? I didn't know there was a difference."

"It's not obvious, except to those who know and who look closely. The reason is that seniors still patrol and handle many of the same duties, and it was discovered years back that citizens and merchants inevitably tried to play off the differences and discount the judgments and actions of mage-guards who were not seniors."

"Will the officers in the High Command notice?" Rahl studied Taryl's insignia, but it didn't look noticeably different from his own.

"Only some with a great deal of experience, and not all of those." Taryl smiled faintly. "You'd better go."

"Ah… ser… I do have a letter, but not with me."

"To the healer?" Taryl smiled more broadly.

Rahl could sense a certain warmth that had not been there a moment before. "Yes, ser."

"If you'll drop it by later, or in the morning, when we meet after muster, I'll make sure it gets sent with the dispatches. I'll caution you that it will probably take two to three eightdays before it gets on a ship."

"Yes, ser."

"Now… I have a few matters to attend to."

Rahl inclined his head, then vaulted over the porch railing, untied the gelding, and mounted. When he returned to the inn, he stabled and groomed his horse.

As he was about to leave the stable, he saw Drakeyt finishing up with his mount and walked over to the stall. "Are you about ready for something to eat?" he asked over the low stall wall.

"And something stronger."

"It's been a long day," offered Rahl.

"Could be short compared to those ahead." Drakeyt did not speak for a time, not until he finished grooming his mount and was leaving the stall. "I saw the overcommander stopped you."

"He had a few things to say," Rahl admitted. "Not quite so directly as the submarshal."

"They always do." Drakeyt shook his head.

They crossed the dusty courtyard, and Rahl could see a number of mounts tied to the long hitching rail outside the inn. To the north, the green-blue sky looked clear-and chill-in the fading twilight.

As they entered the public room, Rahl could see three tables that held officers, undercaptains and captains, while two majers sat at another. "Do you know all of them?"

"Most of them, but mainly just in passing, except for Majer Mezlyr. He's the bigger one."

"Drakeyt! Did you have to wash out the bridge?" called out one of the captains.

"No. I did it just to give your company experience in fording rivers." Drakeyt grinned.

Rahl could sense the anger beneath the smile, but he said nothing. What could he have said that would have been better than the captain's words?

Rahl let Drakeyt choose the one unoccupied corner table, slightly away from the nearest other table. No sooner had they settled into the armless straight-backed chairs than the servingwoman appeared.

"You're the captain who's quartered here, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"You get the burhka and noodles tonight. Drinks?"

"I'll have a beaker of Vyrna."

"That's extra, ser. Two coppers more."

"I can spare two coppers."

The servingwoman looked at Rahl.

"Just good lager… whatever you have."

"Yes, ser." She looked at Drakeyt, almost apologetically.

The captain placed two coppers on the dark wood of the corner table.

She nodded, but left them there. "Won't be but a moment with your meal and drinks, sers."

"Thank you." Rahl's stomach felt more empty than it usually did by dinnertime. He turned back to Drakeyt. "The submarshal was hard on you. I should have told him that it was my lack of experience…"