“Yes, ser.” Rhiobyn rose with a bound, sounding far more cheerful than he had moments before.
Rahl paused in his copying, but waited until Taryl and Rhiobyn were well away from the copying room before he spoke. “What was that all about?”
“It’s time for seasonal evaluations,” Talanyr said slowly. “That’s the only time Taryl ever calls anyone ‘mage-clerk.’ Jyrolt must be here.”
“Rhiobyn seemed happy.”
“That’s because he’s got an exaggerated view of his own skills.”
“I wouldn’t know,” replied Rahl. “I’ve never seen him do anything.”
For a moment, Talanyr looked surprised. “I hadn’t realized it… I mean, I knew it, but it hadn’t really struck me. You’ve never sparred against either of us. What mage-guards has Taryl had you work against?”
“Mostly Taryl and Khaill,” Rahl admitted. “One or two others, sometimes.”
“You never did say how you got those bruises, not in any detail.”
“I was having trouble order-sensing things. So I had to go against Taryl with padded staffs in pitch-darkness until I could do it.”
Talanyr’s mouth opened. Then he shook his head. “You’ll pass any arms evaluation.”
“I thought… everyone…”
“No… you have to pass that level to get assigned to the city stations, but some mage-guards can never do that. That’s why Rhiobyn won’t make it. He gets confused in total darkness. He usually gets around it by using chaos to create light.”
“Isn’t that allowed?”
“Oh… it’s allowed, but it takes more strength, and it makes you more vulnerable.”
“As does talking when you should be copying,” observed Thelsyn from the doorway. “Since it is possible that one or more of you might-actually pass the evaluation, for the sake of either those who do not or the new mage-clerks who will be arriving in the next day or so, I would appreciate your making sure that there are no reports left uncopied.”
“Yes, ser.”
Rahl went back to work on the report before him, and Talanyr did the same.
Before all that long, Taryl returned and summoned Talanyr, leaving Rahl alone in the copying room. He forced himself to continue copying. He wasn’t even certain if Taryl would have him examined. If not, would he spend more time as a clerk, or would he be sent some place like Highpoint?
He finished another report before Taryl returned and stepped into the copying room with Rhiobyn.
Rhiobyn looked shaken, but said nothing.
“Mage-clerk Rahl, if you would accompany me?” asked Taryl politely.
“Yes, ser.” At least, he would be examined and evaluated, but what if he failed? He really had no idea what level of skill was expected, since he’d never seen what the other two could do—except for Talanyr’s expertise with the truncheon in Guasyra—and the normally cocky Rhiobyn looked like he’d been coldcocked with a staff, if not worse.
Taryl walked quickly, leading Rahl toward the weapons-training area and in through the open door.
The only other figure in the chamber was a stocky and muscular man, slightly shorter than Rahl with broader shoulders and short brown hair. Like all mage-guards, he wore the khakis and black-leather boots and belt, with the sunburst insignia on his shirt collar. His eyes were a brownish green, and an aura of. controlled chaos enshrouded him.
“Evaluator Jyrolt, this is mage-clerk Rahl,” said Taryl evenly.
“Ser.” Rahl inclined his head politely, and when he‘ straightened, Taryl was leaving the weapons exercise chamber.
“We’ll begin with a few questions about what is expected of a mage-guard.” Jyrolt’s tenor voice was higher than Rahl would have expected from such a muscular figure. Rahl waited.
Most of the questions were similar to those that Taryl had already asked Rahl, often several times in differing forms. A few were not.
“Mage-clerk, why are those mage-guards who embody order both uniquely qualified to serve the Emperor and fortunate to be able to do so?”
Rahl had to ponder for several moments before he had an answer, although he thought only half came from the Manual. “Because a peaceful land must be governed by order, and because it is difficult if not impossible for an ordermage to escape poverty and want without power, and it is difficult for an ordermage to obtain power without losing all or some of his skills.”
“What about a chaos-mage?” asked Jyrolt dryly. “They could certainly hold power without losing their skills. They have for centuries in Fairhaven.”
Rahl hadn’t seen an answer to that question, or if he had, he hadn’t remembered it. “A land must have order to remain peaceful. Too much chaos will not allow order. Does not Fairhaven spread its chaos-mages all across’ Candar?”
“Why does the Emperor allow his people to ridicule and criticize him, and why are mage-guards charged with enforcing that freedom?”
Rahl had read that section of the Manual and pondered it, but he’d never asked Taryl about it. He wished he had, because, again, he had to use his own interpretation… and hope. “Some people will always find fault. To punish them would only suggest that what they say is true, and more punishment would then be required, until all the mage-guards could do would be to punish those who spoke out, and before long there would be no order in Hamor.”
“But would not too much criticism lead to unrest, mage-clerk?”
“It might, but if the unrest results in physical acts, then the mage-guard must stop it. That provides a balance. People can say what they feel, but they cannot act against the Emperor.”
Jyrolt did not comment, and Rahl did not think that he had displeased the examiner, but with the other’s shields, it was hard to tell.
The questions continued for a time longer, before Jyrolt declared, “Enough for the codex and the
manual.
You must also be examined in weapons. With what are you most skilled?”
“Truncheon, and to a lesser degree, staff, ser. I can use a falchiona for a short period of time, but that gets most painful rather quickly.”
Jyrolt nodded. “Then we will begin with the truncheon. Although you may have your own weapon, and may use it on duty, for purposes of evaluation, you will pick one from the case there.” He gestured to a leather case set on the bench against the wall. “You are to choose first.”
“Yes, ser.” Rahl walked to the case, studying the truncheons. In the end, he picked up the longest and the heaviest, although it was of light oak, and he would have preferred dark oak or lorken.
Jyrolt picked one that was broader and slightly shorter, then moved to the center of the floor. “You are to wait until I attack the first time. Then you are to do your best.”
“Yes, ser.”
While Jyrolt was quick and skilled, after several passes Rahl realized that Taryl was better, and he began to see openings, although he could not quite take advantage of them at first, because he was uncertain whether they were merely feint-traps. But after another series, he slipped inside Jyrolt’s guard, but pulled the thrust rather than striking with full force, and moved back.
Jyrolt immediately stepped back. “I doubt we need more examination with the truncheon. Pick a staff.”
Matters with the staff were similar, except it took Rahl slightly longer.
The falchiona was another matter. Jyrolt was far better, and Rahl was hard-pressed, even retreating, just to avoid getting mauled, and he felt lucky to have taken only two or three blows, which Jyrolt had clearly pulled at the last moment. Just defending, by the end, even holding the falchiona was exceedingly painful-.
Jyrolt again stopped. “Replace the falchiona in the case and return to the center of the floor.”
Rahl did so, then stood there waiting.
“I want you to defend against my thrusts. Raise whatever shields you have.”
“Yes, ser.” Rahl took a moment, remembering to feel everything around him.
The first attack was a light chaos-jab—without any chaos-fire. From there, the jabs got more intense, and Rahl began to sweat even more heavily behind his shields.
Abruptly, a small chaos-bolt flew toward Rahl, but it burst against his shields, and he could sense the free chaos swirling around.
After a second bolt, somewhat stronger, flared away from Rahl, Jyrolt said loudly. “That will suffice.” Then he turned to Taryl.
Rahl had not seen the other mage-guard enter, but that didn’t surprise him. He’d been far too occupied in avoiding getting chaos-pummeled or -burned.
Jyrolt turned back to Rahl. “You may go. Mage-Guard Taryl will inform you.”
Rahl inclined his head. “Yes, ser. Thank you.” He wanted to blot his sweating forehead, but he did not, making his way from the training room.
Once outside, he did not close the door all the way but bent to examine his boot, trying to use his order-senses to catch what the two might say.
“Good weapons skills…”
“… better than good, and you know it…”
“Shields… adequate… hard to tell… his experience is limited…”
“… have had inexperienced mage-guards before… needs to be in Swartheld… we both know…”
“Enough of that now. Is this another of your future visions, Taryl?”
“I wish that it were not… dangerous for him, but more dangerous for us for him to remain here…”
“When then?”
There was a laugh. “Why not now? He could travel with you, and you could brief him.” A pause followed. “Remember… he
is
a natural, and that means—”
“I know… I know. No lectures, just information and examples. More hands-on demonstrations… I suppose Mage-Captain Gheryk could assign him as an assistant to one of the patrol mages in those areas where they patrol in pairs. His arms skills are better than most…”
Rahl couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Taryl was almost ordering his superior as to what to do. What exactly was Taryl?
He could sense someone coming. So he straightened and began to walk back toward the copying room, nodding politely as he passed Dymat. His thoughts were still swirling about the part of the conversation he’d overheard. Jyrolt was the examiner, but Taryl hadn’t been all that -deferential.
When he stepped into the copying room, both Talanyr and Rhiobyn stood and looked at him. Neither looked particularly pleased.
“What happened?” demanded Rhiobyn.
“I don’t know.”
“Didn’t they test you?”
“Jyrolt tested my knowledge, my arms skills, and my shields, and then they dismissed me.”
Rhiobyn nodded. “That’s always how it is. We don’t find out until later.”
“What weapons… ?” asked Talanyr.
‘Truncheon, staff, and falchiona. If he hadn’t been kind, he would have turned me into chopped meat with the blade.“
“You used a blade against Jyrolt?” demanded Rhiobyn. “How many times did he strike you?”
“Three, I think, but I was mostly circling, trying not to get chopped up.”
The other two exchanged glances.
“How did you do with the truncheon?” asked Talanyr.
Rahl felt uneasy about answering that honestly. “I guess I did all right. I kept him from hitting me.”
Talanyr’s laugh was almost bitter “ ‘AH right,’ he says. Taryl’s the only one who’s never been struck by Jyrolt.”
Rahl wished he could have downplayed it, but he’d told the truth, if not all of it, and Talanyr would have known if he’d lied outright. “I just did what I could.”
Rhiobyn just looked at Rahl, who could sense the other’s bewilderment.
Rahl looked at the two reports that remained at his place at the copying table. “I suppose I’d better finish these.” As he sat down, he glanced at Talanyr. “When will they tell us?” He paused. “What will they say?”
Talanyr shrugged, then settled into his chair. “They’ll say whether we’re ready to become mage-guards or not. If -we are, Taryl will tell us whether we stay here as full mage-guards or where we’ll be sent.”
“If… if we’re not ready… then what?”
“Taryl will say whether Jyrolt thinks we just need more preparation or whether we’ll be mage-clerks for life.”
Rahl winced at the thought of that.
Talanyr laughed, ruefully. “Sometimes that’s not all bad. If they think your character is good, you can be sent to headquarters in Cigoerne or to one of the large city stations. They have a lot of reports to write and file in those places. Sometimes, clerks develop late into mage-guards.”
Could that be what Taryl had been talking about with Jyrolt?
Rahl could only wait and wonder as he began to copy the next report.
He was finishing the second report when Taryl appeared. “Mage-Guard Rhiobyn… if you’d accompany me.”
Rahl could sense the relief—and the nervousness— held within Rhiobyn, although he was smiling when he left with Taryl.
“Poor bastard.” Talanyr shook his head.
“Why?”
“They’ll send him to someplace like Ceostyr or Mludyn.”
Rahl had no idea where either was.
“They’re towns smaller than Jabuti or Guasyra, where you’ve got maybe two or three mage-guards, and none of the women he has his eye on in Cigoerne will ever consort him with that kind of assignment.”