L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

As Drakeyt watched, Rahl broke the seal on his dispatch and extracted the single sheet from the envelope, immediately reading the brief message.

Senior Mage-Guard Rahl-

Second Army will be joining you tomorrow. From that point onward, you will be working more closely with the main forces, and you may well be required upon occasion to brief senior officers on both the terrain and its peculiarities and on the probable disposition of rebel forces, as well as the level of civilian support for either the Emperor or the rebel forces.

In the interim, I would appreciate a short report on the situation in the vicinity of Lahenta, to be dispatched with squad leader Fysett, before you commence the day's scouting on the approaches to Thalye.

The seal was that of the submarshal, and the single letter above it was a "T."

"You don't look exactly pleased," observed Drakeyt.

"I've been requested to write a short report. Immediately, and to send it with Fysett before I do anything else at all."

Drakeyt raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"In effect, he wants to know most of what I already wrote up last night, but there are one or two things I'll need to add. I'm going over to the chandlery. It'll take less time there."

"Better surroundings, too." Drakeyt grinned.

"Not my type," Rahl replied. "Besides, the one I like wouldn't be too pleased."

"How would she…" Drakeyt broke off his words, then asked, "Don't tell me she's a mage, too?"

"A healer, but… she'd know." Rahl wondered why he kept thinking about Deybri. Despite her last letter, how could they ever see each other before years passed? Was he still chasing an impossible image?

"You do make things hard for yourself, Majer." Drakeyt shook his head.

"It's a habit of mine, I've been told," Rahl replied. "I'll finish as quickly as I can. I'd like to have my reply ready to send off right after muster."

"I'll need a bit of time to tell Fysett and Fedeor and get the squads reorganized anyway. You won't be delaying anything."

"I'll try to be quick." Rahl walked back to the gelding, untied him, and mounted.

When he reached the chandlery, it was closed, but he pounded on the door until Khelra answered.

Rahl had taken over the makeshift desk in the chandlery the night before to write out his report to Taryl, detailing the situation in Lahenta and his decision not to administer any sort of punitive action to those remaining. He had just wished he was writing Deybri, but by the time he had finished, he was too tired and too discouraged to attempt adding to his intermittently written epistle to her.

"You're back," offered Khelra ambiguously. "Early."

"Only for a little while. I need a quiet place to write a response to my latest orders."

"You weren't that quiet, Majer." She stepped back.

"I apologize. The overcommander wants an immediate reply, and there's really nowhere to write in that barn." Rahl refrained from pointing out that he could have taken over her quarters.

She did not reply that there were other places where he could write. After a pause, she inquired, "The Emperor in his great mercy has decided against burning Lahenta to the ground? Or does he just wish to spare the redberries and the distillery?"

"No one's burning anything." Rahl smiled wryly.

"And after you leave, Majer… then what?" Khelra was most unlike Deybri. The cooper was short, muscular, and broad-shouldered, with sandy hair chopped short enough that she could have passed for a youth at a distance… yet she and Deybri did share one quality that shone through both, and that was an honesty of spirit.

Rahl couldn't help but feel sorry for Khelra, trapped as she had been by circumstances into consorting with a weak and ambitious man. Was he sympathetic because the same had almost happened to him? "The overcommander is arriving, and he's even less likely to burn anything. He has to report directly to the Emperor."

"You know where the lamp is." Khelra turned and walked away, leaving the chandlery door ajar.

Rahl stepped inside, knowing the space was empty, yet still scanning it with his order-senses, even as he wondered what he should have said to Khelra. He could sense she was displeased, and it wasn't because he was leaving or not leaving. Had his very presence promised something? He was thankful he didn't have that much to add to what he had written the night before.

After he had finished his dispatch to Taryl-less than a page of additional comments-Rahl went back out to the gelding and extracted the small mirror, carrying it back into the main room of the chandlery/cooperage. Then he set it on the plank that served as the makeshift desk.

He seated himself on the stool and looked into the glass, his concentration focused on the metaled road that led from the outskirts of Lahenta to Thalye, as he tried to visualize a kaystone that gave the name of Thalye and the number 5. The glass first darkened, then began to fill with swirling mists. After a moment, they cleared to reveal an empty stretch of road, without riders, or wagons. There was no kaystone, but to one side was a low hillock, and at the top was a broken stub of stone. Rahl nodded to himself.

He concentrated once more, this time trying to reach out to find the nearest company of rebels, visualizing their maroon-and-khaki uniforms. The mists returned to the glass and swirled across it, finally parting to show a hazy group of mounted troopers slogging toward him along a paved road in the rain. Rahl could feel himself becoming light-headed, and immediately released the image, taking a deep breath as he sat on the old stool.

He turned, but did not rise, as Khelra walked toward him, her steps tentative. He could sense a combination of fear and curiosity. "Yes?"

"You were using that glass, weren't you, Majer? Like the old magi'i?"

Rahl nodded. He stood slowly, then rewrapped the glass and eased it under his arm. "I'll be going. Some of the rest of Second Army will be arriving later. Please be careful."

"As if you cared… ser."

"I do care. I wish you no harm, and I'm sorry that your consort threw in with the rebels. I've already reported that you had nothing to do with what he did and that your assistance was valuable."

"Like as you said about Gorsyn, most likely."

"I only said that Gorsyn paid his tariffs, most likely knowing where they were going, but not ever asking."

At that, the cooper frowned. "He owns the distillery."

"You own the chandlery and cooperage," Rahl replied with a smile, then inclined his head. "Thank you. We do need to begin scouting before the main forces arrive."

"You're welcome, Majer." She inclined her head.

Rahl could feel her eyes on his back as he left, and her feeling of puzzlement. At least she wasn't angry anymore. He didn't need to make any more unnecessary enemies anywhere. He suspected he had enough, and probably among both the Imperial forces and the rebels.

Once outside in the early light, under a cool and clear green-blue sky, he mounted and rode across the square, then south to where Third Company was forming up. The wind was blowing briskly out of the southwest and held a slight dampness.

Drakeyt turned in the saddle as Rahl approached. "You weren't long."

"The reception was cool, and I didn't have that much to write." Rahl held up the envelope. It wasn't sealed, but he'd never had a seal. He extended it to the captain. "My dispatch to the overcommander."

Drakeyt leaned to the side and took the envelope, then straightened. "Here comes Fysett. We're also sending Halamar and Jugyst with him." As the three troopers neared, Drakeyt went on, "My thought was that you and fourth squad should take the road almost to Thalye-or until you discover any signs of rebels. That will give us an idea of what might lie along the road. The other squads will fan out along the side lanes, and I'll take second squad up the lane that the map says connects with the old road. If we see any traces of rebels, we'll return to the main road, and I'll send a messenger for you."