L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

"There was a white wizard from Fairhaven and a squad of archers. They were loosing shafts, and he was throwing firebolts. I managed to stop him, but everything exploded. That was the way it felt, anyway." For a moment, Rahl closed his eyes.

"The explosion killed two of the troopers and left a big patch of charred ground. There wasn't any trace of the wizard or the archers. There were two of their mounts left, and Fysett brought them back. Fysett said that no one close to you was touched."

"Where are we?"

"About four kays below the fight, just off the road on some higher ground, not that I'd really want to fight anyone right now."

"What did the rebels do? Where are they?"

"They all pulled out, every last one, and scurried around that bubbling mess you created, and retreated, probably to Lahenta, if not farther."

Bubbling mess? Rahl had a very deep sinking feeling. Slowly, he rolled onto one side, ignoring the rock that dug into his hip, and struggled into a sitting position.

Drakeyt extended a water bottle. Rahl took it, gratefully, slowly swallowing and easing the dryness in his throat.

"There's one thing that doesn't make any sense," Drakeyt said, after Rahl finished drinking.

"There are more than a few things I don't understand," Rahl replied.

"They had more than three companies waiting, and they had to know that a recon company would precede the main force. Why did they have so many troopers and a chaos-mage just to deal with one unsupported company? Seems like a waste of men, especially if they're worried about force strength."

"I can only guess. But… why have we only seen traps and oldsters until now? They're trying to delay us." According to what Rahl had seen and read, delays usually favored the side with more resources. That suggested to him that the rebels were stalling for time. Did they think Fairhaven or someone else would intervene on an even greater scale? Or were the rebel mages developing some technique or tool? He shook his head. There wasn't much he could do about such matters, not as a mage-guard with a recon company. "I'd judge that the idea was to kill or capture the entire company so that no information got back to the marshal. Given the marshal's reputation for caution, a missing company would certainly cause some delay. Also, if they have fewer trained troopers-"

"They'd want to use them in situations that favored their experience," Drakeyt went on. "They'll use the newer troopers and conscripts, if they have any, where they need masses of bodies, and delay as long as possible in deploying them so that they can get as much training into them as they can."

"The white wizard also fits. We weren't facing a mage-guard turned traitor. He was a young white wizard from Fairhaven." Young compared to most wizards and mage-guards, but still older than Rahl. "The rebels were more willing to risk him than one of their own."

"But you bested him."

"I almost didn't," Rahl said tiredly, rubbing his forehead.

"Most mage-guards wouldn't have, would they?"

"The overcommander wouldn't have had the trouble I did," Rahl said.

"He isn't like most mage-guards, either." Drakeyt's voice was dry. After a moment, he went on. "We can't keep doing this, not without reinforcements, not the way we have been," Drakeyt said. "Without you, there wouldn't even be any of Third Company left. As it is, we're at half strength. I've been writing up a dispatch to the overcommander reporting our status. I'm taking the liberty of suggesting that, if he wants us to continue, he supply some reinforcements."

"I'd better add some comments to your report, especially about the white wizard and what I did."

"In the shape you're in, it might be better to wait until morning. Even in the darkness you look like a white demon."

Rahl knew that Drakeyt was right, but the thought still galled him. "First thing, so that we can get off a messenger as soon as possible."

"Which will leave us with even fewer troopers."

Rahl had the feeling that whatever they did resulted in fewer troopers. At least, whatever he did seemed to, no matter how hard he tried not to put the men in harm's way.

"You could be in command, you know." There was the slightest hint of an edge in Drakeyt's voice.

"First, that wouldn't be right," replied Rahl, almost without thinking. "Second, I still don't know enough. Third, the troopers wouldn't feel right about it…"

"Do you think the overcommander felt that way before he took over?"

Drakeyt's question underscored Rahl's tiredness and lack of perception. He should have sensed where the captain was headed. He would have, had he felt better. At least, he thought he would have. "Yes… and no. I think he felt Dettyr should never have been appointed and was wrong for the post. The man was incompetent, and everything he did endangered troopers. That makes a difference. The overcommander told me personally that he discussed everything with Commander Muyr…"

"The commander's a solid officer," confirmed Drakeyt. "He should have made overcommander years ago."

"He likely will now," offered Rahl.

"It's only taken a rebellion, gross incompetence by his superiors, and one of the most senior mage-guards in Hamor for him to be considered."

"What else is new?" Rahl managed a chuckle. At the end, he had to stifle a yawn. Demons, he was tired.

Drakeyt laughed, if bitterly. "Your bedroll is right there." He gestured. "We could both use some sleep."

In the end, Rahl and what remained of Third Company did not near Lahenta until oneday. A good part of that delay resulted from the time it had taken on eightday for Rahl to deal with the bubbling brownish mess that had claimed scores of rebels and had expanded even more by the time Rahl had reached it by early midmorning.

The sun had climbed overhead and dropped into the afternoon before Rahl had managed to turn the chaotic quicksandlike ooze back into clay and dirt. Part of the problem was that he was still exhausted and had to rest between efforts, because he could only deal with the ooze in sections. While he thought it had reached its limits before he arrived, he wasn't sure enough to stake anything on it, especially since the rest of Second Army would have to cross the area, or spend even more time detouring around it. He also didn't want to face Taryl if he hadn't done his best in undoing the mess.

His performance in dealing with the ooze had been embarrassing as well, because he'd barely been able to sit down at the end before he passed out again-and no one had even been attacking him. When he had come to, it had been late afternoon, and Third Company was standing by, waiting, because, after all the magery, Drakeyt had decided it was wiser not to proceed until Rahl recovered. Even after all his efforts, that section of the road was still a muddy mess, but at least it was no longer chaos-quicksand.

In the end the company only rode slightly beyond the pass before setting up camp on eightday evening. By early oneday, Rahl was finally feeling stronger and was back with the outriders, able to order-sense, if not at full strength. His truncheon had been incinerated in the blast created by the interplay of his order and the white wizard's chaos, and he was reduced to carrying his own older and far shorter patrol truncheon.

The land beyond the rocky hills was lower, flatter, and more fertile. It also seemed to have steads everywhere, but rather than cultivated or winter-tilled fields, there were rows and rows of redberries.

"I didn't know they had so many redberries here," Rahl said to Alrydd, as the two rode downhill toward the hamlet that looked to be several kays ahead.

"Best redberries in all Hamor," confirmed the outrider. "The very best they ferment and distill into the special crimson brandy."