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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

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BOOK: Mage-Guard of Hamor
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XIII

After showering and donning a clean uniform, Rahl returned to the lower level, then to the library. He walked some of the other corridors, and checked Taryl's quarters, but he did not see Taryl anywhere. So he returned to the library and settled into reading more of the mage-guard history. What was more intriguing were the observations on why things had happened. One short section, in particular, caught his attention:

As a result of the loss of the expeditionary fleet to Recluce and the previously unobserved powers of its weather mages, Emperor Cyth'alt resolved to change the very structure of Hamor. So many of what historians view as changes in lands or societies are nothing of the sort, but merely the replacement of one set of rulers for another with exactly the same beliefs and systems of ruling. Cyth'alt was wise enough to understand this. He was wiser than that, in that the reforms he put in place were designed not to change the appearance of existing institutions but to change their very functions without changing their outward appearance. By geographically separating two-thirds of the Triad from the Imperial Palace, and by creating an independent High Command, he not only limited the very powers of the emperor, but strengthened Hamor by attempting to assure that all decisions would require action by three separate power centers…Yet by reifying these essentially new sources of power in existing institutions, he also created the illusion that nothing had changed…

Some skeptics suggest that his decisions were based on the fact that, since he had no sons, he wished to place checks on his brother's offspring…Whatever the reason, the very structure of today's Hamor dates from those decisions…

Despite such occasionally and too infrequently interesting passages, Rahl found himself nodding off, doubtless because of his efforts against Elatyr, and he finally left the book open on his lap and let himself doze. When he woke, he shelved the volume and decided to make his way to the mess, although he knew he would be early for dinner.

In the foyer outside the mess, he saw Taryl in the middle of a group of mage-guards, mostly older men, although there were several women mage-guards as well. Rahl did not recognize any of them by name, although he had seen several at the seniors' table at previous meals.

Rahl started to ease away when Taryl caught his eye.

“If you would excuse me for a moment,” Taryl said, stepping away from the group and toward Rahl.

Rahl realized that Taryl was not wearing the standard mage-guard starburst, but another insignia—one in which the starburst was set above a crossed staff and lightning bolt.

“New insignia, ser,” Rahl offered.

“I've been appointed Mage-Guard Overcommander of Merowey. We'll need to meet after dinner. I don't know how long things will take. If I'm not here when you finish, do some reading, and I'll get you from the library.”

“Yes, ser.”

With a pleasant smile, Taryl nodded and returned to the others. “You'll pardon me, but this was such an unexpected promotion that neither I nor my assistant had any knowledge of the Emperor's and the Triad's decision, and this is the first time I have seen Rahl.”

As Rahl turned away, he maintained a pleasant smile. While Taryl might not have
known
, it was clear to Rahl that Taryl's new position had resulted from the meetings of the previous days.

Once the mess doors opened, Rahl seated himself with the three mage-guards he knew more than just by name—Laryn, Devalyn, and Rhyett. The main course at dinner was burhka, with side platters of goat biastras. As he wrapped the flat bread around the thin tube of goat, Rahl couldn't help but think of Deybri…and the letter he still carried with him.

“Taryl's wearing an overcommander's insignia,” observed Devalyn, looking to Rahl. “All the seniors are courting him…again.” After a pause, he offered in a more formal tone,

“For those in power all will court,

in seeking softer words of praise,

and bringing harder truths up short,

exalting self and sunlit days.”

Rahl glanced at Devalyn.

“That's Elhazuryn, one of the old Afritan poets.”

“Does everyone quote old poets?” asked Rahl curiously.

“Only in Cigoerne,” injected Rhyett. “You're considered…uncultured…if you don't.”

Rahl had a suspicion that Rhyett had almost said “Atlan,” but he just smiled. “I'd better read a few of them, then. Are there any in the library here?”

“Ah…I don't know. I've never looked,” replied Rhyett.

Rahl turned his eyes on Devalyn.

Devalyn shrugged. “Me, neither. I just memorized a bunch because my father said they'd be useful. It helps if you deal with Vladyrt. Saulya just laughs, but that helps, too.”

“Do you know where Taryl's going?” asked Rhyett.

“He's been appointed Mage-Guard Overcommander in Merowey,” Rahl replied, “but I don't know more than that.”

“That won't go down well with Cyphryt or Welleyn,” murmured Rhyett.

“You think not? I can't imagine why.” Laryn's voice was pleasantly ironic.

“Are you going with him?” asked Rhyett.

“Yes. I don't know when we'll leave, though, except it's likely to be before too long.”

“Word is that you should have been an arms-mage,” ventured Laryn. “One of the mage-clerks said you disarmed every one of them, just using a truncheon.”

“There are advantages to having been a patrol mage in Swartheld,” Rahl replied. “I can't use chaos, and that meant I had to be good with the truncheon.”

“That's why the best mage-guards with the army are those who can handle a blade,” Devalyn pointed out. “You get exhausted if all you can do is throw chaos. You'll run out of chaos before the enemy runs out of armsmen.”

Rhyett gave Devalyn a hard look.

“That's what Khedren says,” added Devalyn.

No one pressed Rahl on what Taryl had in mind for the rest of the meal, and when he had finished, he made his way to the library.

Rahl had read enough of the two mage-guard histories, more than enough, he thought, and he began to peruse the shelves to see if he could find any volumes of the old poets. Most of the verse, he discovered, was rather more florid than what he'd heard, as he read the opening of something called “Remembrances Past.”

Evening's soft hues seep o'er the hamlet's green,

with magely tints to harmonize the scene,

stilled is the crack that through the village broke

when to the ground crashed down their ancient oak…

Surely, there had to be something that he could memorize and use, as necessary, if sparingly, to suggest he'd read
something.

One set of lines suggested Saulya to him.

You spoke and smiled, and I believed

By every sound and word deceived…

Another set of lines bewildered him more than anything else at first, and he read them several times.

As if your deepest thoughts had been screed clear

and in the glass set forth with every fear,

while we stand a hundred kays apart

order links us life to life, heart to heart.

Could an ordermage actually use a glass to see something hundreds of kays away—or sense what someone was feeling? Certainly, Rahl could sense what someone else felt, but only when they were near. How would such a glass work? Or was it something special that had only existed in ancient Cyad?

He finally left those lines of verse and leafed on through the book.

Rahl had only found two or three sets of lines that he had committed—he hoped—to memory when Taryl appeared. Rahl quickly reshelved the books and hurried out after Taryl, who, in turn, led him back down to the underground chamber.

The older mage-guard did not speak until he had closed the door to the small windowless chamber, lit only by a single bronze wall lamp, and stood behind the small table where Rahl had manipulated sand and water. The table was now clean, without a trace of either sand or water. “Rahl…there is a great deal at stake here, and I'll be more than happy to explain matters once we leave headquarters, but not until then.”

“What about your becoming an overcommander? Can you explain that?”

“Everyone will know that in a few days. The Emperor made the appointment, but he told Dhoryk beforehand that he would. Dhoryk agreed, because he's been trying his best to discredit Fieryn's leadership and choice of seniors. Dhoryk also didn't want to cross Jubyl, not when Fieryn's already his enemy. While Fieryn didn't like it, with the Emperor and two out of the Triad supporting the choice, Fieryn really had no choice but to accede.”

“So Jubyl and the Emperor were the ones who really sent you to Recluce, then?”

“I can't admit that, but I won't contradict it, either. For the moment, those matters are all you need to know.”

“I can't reveal matters inadvertently if I know nothing?” Rahl tried to keep the tinge of bitterness out of his voice.

“Your shields are strong enough to hide anything, but you're not yet skilled enough to hide the fact that you're hiding something. That alone, given the right questions, would reveal more than necessary, and there is the difficulty that there are those who would use any tactic to discover certain things.”

“Like Saulya or Edelya?”

Taryl laughed softly. “They're gentle by comparison to Cyphryt and Welleyn and some of their enthusiastic subordinates.”

“Who is Welleyn? Rhyett mentioned him at dinner.”

“Welleyn is the overcommander of the Cigoerne region, and that effectively makes him the third-most-powerful mage-guard and the equal of Cyphryt. They're both vying to succeed Fieryn.”

“But don't the senior mage-guards select a successor?”

“They do, and it's usually who's the most powerful, for obvious reasons. Very few of the Triads have been chaos-mages. Fieryn and Dhoryk among the few. Now…enough of that. We can talk about such on the way to the High Command.”

“Yes, ser.”

“I want you to raise full personal shields. You'll need them.”

Rahl did so.

“I'm going to ask you questions, and I want you to try to avoid revealing anything…or any emotion involved with the answers.” Taryl extended a tendril of order and snuffed out the wall lamp.

“Yes, ser.” Rahl waited in the darkness.

“Were you really so stupid as to think you could seduce that girl in Land's End with order and not get her with child?”

Rahl tried not to think about Jienela, but why had Taryl used that question?

“Did you honestly think that even a second-rate ordermaster like Puvort wouldn't have known what you'd done? Or do you just think he's second-rate because he discovered you were breaking the laws?”

Rahl tried just to think of Deybri, anything calming, behind his shields.

“Rahl! You're not paying attention. You never do, not for long enough, anyway.” Taryl's voice dripped sarcasm and venom. “Why do you always think you know better? Was that why you killed the undercaptain? Because he really did know better than you, and you couldn't face it?”

Rahl could sense the disapproval, the condescension behind Taryl's words. What had he done so wrong?

“Feeling sorry for yourself now? Is that it?” Waves of scorn washed toward Rahl. “You think you're the only one in the world who's had troubles?”

Rahl knew he wasn't, but certainly more than a few of the mage-guards had led far easier and more sheltered lives than Rahl.

“Do you really think that it was just Shyret's fault that you ended up in Luba?”

The questions seemed to go on and on, as did waves of the condescension, scorn, and disappointment. What had he done to upset Taryl so much? Had he misread the older mage? And Hamor and the mage-guards?

Then, almost abruptly, Taryl stopped badgering Rahl. The older mage-guard walked past Rahl and relit the lamp before turning to face Rahl. Taryl's face was dripping sweat, and Rahl could sense the strain that the “exercise” had taken on him.

“I asked you questions designed to upset you and put you on edge, but that was merely a small sampling of what a truly cruel and disciplined mage-guard interrogator can do.” Even Taryl's voice sounded tired. “You didn't do too badly, except you still feel far too guilty, and I could guess your answers to a number of the questions by the fluctuations in your shields and the level of your anger. Several times, whatever you were thinking of, you were totally effective. I think you know when that happened. You need to work on that. I suggest that you practice being very polite at the mess and projecting only friendliness. Keep everything else behind shields. Keep at it until it's a firm habit. I can't do much more with you on this, because now you'll be expecting it, and it won't have that kind of impact anymore.”

Rahl could see that.

“Remember this. I like you far too much truly to batter at you, or to deceive or ensnare you. I hope you understand that.” Taryl took a deep breath. “I need to wait a bit before heading upstairs. Do you have any questions?”

“I came across something in the library,” Rahl offered, wanting to shift the conversation away from the failings that Taryl had exposed. “The writer mentioned screeing, and seeing someone in a glass, and also sensing what they felt through it.”

Taryl frowned. “They have it mixed up. It's a rare ability, but some mages can use a glass to see events at a distance. Once it was said only chaos-mages had the talent, but a few ordermages have shown that ability, but it's said they do it differently. I wouldn't know.” He smiled. “Like all ambitious young mages, I tried it, but never had any success. As for sensing what others feel, some mages who are consorted develop that closeness. There supposedly is a way to force such a link, and the legends say that it was done to Creslin and Megaera—you should know about that.”

BOOK: Mage-Guard of Hamor
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