Mage-Guard of Hamor (67 page)

At that moment, an orderly in a trooper's uniform brought in a large platter, setting it before Taryl, then returned with two other casserole dishes, and a basket of a thin hard bread, broken into irregular chunks.

“It's a southern pickle-spiced fowl, with crispy-sticky rice and orange sauce,” noted the overcommander, serving Deybri, then himself. “The bread is a local specialty. It helps in scooping the rice around.”

“I've never had this before,” Rahl admitted, taking a healthy portion of the fowl and rice.

“Neither have I,” replied Taryl, “but the cook here insisted that no one should visit the southwest without having the best southern fowl—and hers is the best. She was most insistent upon that.”

Deybri smiled faintly, but Rahl could sense apprehension behind the smile.

The orderly reappeared, but only to light the bronze oil lamps in the wall sconces.

Rahl attempted to use a bread fragment to scoop up the orange sticky rice, but the rice was more solid than he had thought, and fragments of the hard and thin bread—more like a smooth cracker—splintered across both his platter and the table.

Deybri smothered a smile.

“It is sticky and solid,” Rahl admitted. “Tasty…but solid.”

“I don't think I'll mention that to the cook,” Taryl said.

The conversation remained confined to the food for the rest of the meal because Taryl only discussed the food and how it differed from cooking in the north of Hamor and because Rahl would have felt most uncomfortable bringing up some of the questions he had, especially since he knew Taryl was unlikely to answer them.

The main course was followed by pearapple-lime tarts.

“That was most satisfactory,” Taryl said, after finishing the last morsel of his tart. “And now…to the briefing.” He looked to Deybri. “I would like you to take the chair by the archway, as if you were monitoring and watching, but I would ask your concentration on those at the briefing.”

“Yes, ser.”

Rahl could sense both her willingness to observe and her curiosity at Taryl's order.

“And after everyone leaves, just return to my study and wait for me.”

Rahl and Deybri nodded.

The three did not have to walk far to reach where the briefing would take place—just down the dimly lit hallway to the large salon in the villa, where several chairs had been added to the settees and armchairs already in place. A map board had been set up on what had been a dining table and propped at an angle with heavy square stones. All the wall lamps had been lit, imparting a warm glow to the salon.

“Take a good look at the map, so that you can easily point out where the rebel forces are,” Taryl said to Rahl. “Then sit in the straight-backed chair on the end there and wait. Practice looking polite behind your shields.”

“Yes, ser.”

The first officer to enter was Commander Muyr, and the second was Shuchyl. Neither more than glanced at Rahl in passing, although he did sense a certain veiled curiosity from Muyr. The other seven commanders followed quickly. Only after the nine commanders had arrived did Fieryn and Dhoryk make their appearance, walking to the two armchairs that constituted the middle of the semicircle of chairs.

Taryl waited several moments, then stood and addressed the senior officers. “Before we discuss the plans for the attack on the rebel positions north of Sastak, Majer Rahl will brief us on their positions and disposition of forces.” Taryl nodded toward Rahl.

Rahl stood and walked to the map board, then half turned, taking a position from which he could both point to the map and still address the commanders and Triads. “The rebels have fortified this ridge four kays north of the outskirts of Sastak. The ridge extends a kay from one end to the other and runs from the southeast to the northwest, with the northwest end sloping down to the main road between Nubyat and Sastak….” Rahl followed Taryl's instructions as precisely as he could, providing the geography and the facts as he knew them and offering no opinions or judgments. When he finished, there were a number of questions.

“How does the eastern farm road compare in the ability to hold riders to the main road?”

“Are there any obvious sources of water on the ridge?”

“Exactly how steep are the approaches?”

After answering the last of the questions, Rahl inclined his head to Taryl.

“That will be all, Majer. Stand by in the event some factual issues about the terrain arise.”

Rahl returned to the end seat, thinking about how intently both Dhoryk and Fieryn had followed his description. Yet neither had asked a question.

Taryl stood once more. “Golyat is challenging us to a battle. That much is clear. While there is some risk attached to attacking, the position that the rebels have chosen limits their capabilities even more than it does ours. The slopes to the ridgeline are comparatively gentle and easily traveled by mount. They are narrow enough, however, that our mage-guards can provide some protection against chaos-bolts….”

Rahl listened as Taryl described the plan, if a direct attack up two open slopes could be considered a plan. The overcommander did propose a series of smaller attacks initially, both to draw out the archers and chaos-mages and to minimize the impact of chaos-bolts, then the use of spread formations because chaos-attacks would have far less effect when the troopers were spread apart until they reached the earthworks.

After he finished, the first question came from a graying commander Rahl had seen but never met personally. “I will submit that, if we intend to attack, Overcommander, your plan is the best that is possible. I question why we need attack at all. We can bypass the ridge, take the city, and wait.”

“For how long?” asked Taryl softly. “Every day that the fleet must patrol costs hundreds of golds. Without such patrols, Fairhaven will send more mages, like those who have already killed hundreds of troopers. In addition, I have been reminded that Jeranyi pirate attacks against our merchanters are increasing, especially in the Eastern Ocean, because of the warships tied up in the blockade of the rebels.”

“Overcommander,” offered Fieryn, “perhaps you might explain some of the other losses involved.”

“Thank you, honored Triad.” Taryl inclined his head. “As a result of the rebellion, the Jeranyi have taken ten more ships in the past season than ever before. Each of those ships carried an average crew of twenty, as well as close to twenty passengers. That amounts to four hundred innocents dead. The loss of ships and cargoes to our factors from just those ten vessels exceeds fifty thousand golds. The loss to the Imperial treasury is estimated at more than five thousand.” Taryl's words became harder. “Even with healers, for every half season, a force in the field loses a minimum of one trooper in twenty to disease, desertion, and accidents. Following your recommendation will require at least an additional season, and will not necessarily end the revolt, since we cannot patrol that effectively a perimeter of over three kays night and day for a season with the manpower we have. In addition, occupying Sastak will result in additional costs, not to mention that it will result in less support for the Emperor from an area that has not been that supportive, and that will require even more golds in the future.”

“Begging your pardon, Overcommander—”

Rahl could sense a whiteness around and within the commander, something not present in any of the other commanders.

“Commander Hyksyn, we will attack tomorrow. Since you are clearly uncomfortable with that decision, you are hereby relieved, and Majer Deolyn will assume command of Third Regiment, effective immediately.”

“You can't—” Hyksyn abruptly swayed on his feet, then sat down hard, shaking his head.

Rahl could only admire the speed and force of the unseen order-bolt that Taryl had projected.

“Majer Rahl, please escort the commander to the protective detail waiting in the foyer. Captain Healer Deybri, I'd like you to check the commander before he is confined to assure his health.”

“Yes, ser.”

Rahl moved beside the shaken commander, then grasped his arm and eased the older man to his feet. “This way, ser.”

Hyksyn tried to speak, but could not manage a word until Rahl had him in the hallway outside. “You…you're…one…of them.”

“I'm a mage-guard and a majer, ser, and I'm loyal to the Emperor and the overcommander.”

“…so many will die…” whispered the commander, shaking his head. “So many…”

Rahl caught a glimpse of the man's unguarded thoughts and feelings—and froze for a moment. While those feelings were indeed Hyksyn's own, they had been twisted and turned by chaos, then further scrambled by Taryl's order-bolt, so much so that Rahl had the feeling that the man was but a shadow of his former self. Who had used so much chaos on him? And when?

Rahl understood Taryl's actions because a vacillating regimental commander could be a disaster.

“Let me see him, Majer.” Deybri's voice was cool as she appeared beside the two.

“He's been hammered by both order and chaos,” Rahl whispered.

Deybri order-probed the still-dazed commander as Rahl continued to walk him toward the main foyer. Rahl could sense her anger and consternation.

Rahl recognized the captain who led the guard detail waiting in the foyer—Alfhyr, the older and perceptive captain he'd met at the High Command headquarters south of Cigoerne.

“Ser, is this the officer requiring a protective detail?”

“The commander suffered some sort of seizure,” Rahl improvised. “He'll need to be confined and watched until he recovers. He may need a healer now and again.”

“Yes, ser. We can take care of that.”

“I'll need a few moments with him,” Deybri said.

“I'm fine…just need some rest…have to get ready for tomorrow,” insisted Hyksyn. “…be just fine.” His words slurred.

“We'll make sure you get that rest, Commander.” Alfhyr's voice was reassuring.

Deybri rested her hands on the commander's forehead, and Rahl could sense the order, and the sense of calm. Abruptly, the commander slumped, and Rahl barely caught him.

“He should sleep for a while,” Deybri said. “I don't know how long.”

“We'll make sure he won't hurt himself, Majer…Healer.” Alfhyr turned to the two burly troopers behind him. “You'll need to carry him.”

“Yes, ser.”

Rahl and Deybri watched as Alfhyr and the four troopers departed with the unconscious commander.

“Why did they pick him?” murmured Deybri. “Because he was the most concerned about his troopers?”

“That made him vulnerable,” suggested Rahl.

“That's horrible. I know it happens, but it's still terrible.”

“It is, but the magisters in Nylan aren't any better.” Rahl paused, thinking about the guard detail that had been waiting. “He
knew
something like this would happen,” Rahl murmured to her. “He knew.”

“He's able to foresee, almost as if he had the same powers as Ryba.” Deybri's voice was low.

Rahl wasn't certain of that, or that the legendary Ryba had even had such powers, but Taryl had certainly anticipated both the question and the commander's reaction.

They returned to the archway into the salon and listened while Taryl answered the remaining questions—all about logistics and implementation. Then, as the commanders and the Triads rose, they eased away to the study Taryl had been using.

After fumbling with a striker, Rahl did manage to light the lamps, then offer Deybri a quick embrace, but only that, before Taryl returned.

The overcommander sank into the chair behind the table desk. He cleared his throat. “What did you think of the briefing?” His eyes went to Deybri.

“The commander was twisted with chaos,” Deybri said. “It was done recently. It might have been done today. That was why he was confused. It was also why your order-bolt had such an effect. I managed to soften the worst of both. He'll probably sleep well into tomorrow.”

“Good.” Taryl nodded. “He won't be able to do any more damage to himself, one way or the other. I'd appreciate it if you would just report his sudden collapse as a form of brain flux or something like it. That way, there won't be any question about his getting a stipend.”

“Who did it, ser?”

“Whom do you suspect, Rahl?”

“It was chaos-based, and it was recent, and I haven't sensed any strong chaos presences except for the Triads.”

Taryl offered a wry smile. “Do you wish to accuse a Triad?”

Rahl wanted to, but he had no proof of which of the two it might have been.

“Exactly,” Taryl replied. “By the way, Third Company will be held in reserve, just forward of the headquarters company, but farther on the flank so that you will have a clear line at the rebels. I've already sent the orders to Captain Drakeyt. Do you think he would make a good battalion commander?”

“Yes, ser.”

Taryl nodded. “That will have to wait.” After the briefest pause, he asked, “What else did you notice?”

“Both Triads paid great attention to me and to you and to what we said,” Rahl replied.

“Neither one reacted to what happened to Commander Hyksyn,” added Deybri.

“But they wouldn't,” mused Rahl. “If one of them did it, he wouldn't react, and neither would the other because…” He knew there was a reason, but he couldn't find a way to say it.

“Precisely,” replied Taryl. “What about the commanders?”

“From what I could sense,” Rahl said, “the others agreed with you, not just on the surface, but deeper, that your plan makes the best of a bad situation.”

Deybri nodded. “Commander Muyr is saddened by that, but committed to support you. Commander Joarsyl just wants to punish the rebels.”

“His consort died unexpectedly sometime after we left Dawhut,” Taryl said. “His anger will be…useful. Sixth Regiment will be the one to make the second full attack. Did you notice anything about Commander Shuchyl?”