“Rebellion…” Rahl tried to remember. He had known something about that, about the Emperor’s brother being behind it. How could that be tied to the Jeranyi? He didn’t know, and it was still hard to think, and his face burned, and his breathing was labored.
“You don’t have much order left in you, Rahl, but you should be all right before long.” Hewart lifted a mug of something. “Heavy beer. It’ll help a lot.”
Rahl had to swallow slowly, and his throat was more than a little sore, but he got all the beer down.
“Good.” Hewart smiled. “Now you need to rest”
Questions swirled around in Rahl’s head, but before he could ask any more, the hot darkness rose and swallowed him once again.
The heat and fever continued, and Rahl drifted in and out of it for several days. The words and phrases echoing through his head became fewer, but the dreams more vivid—if scenes from his past were truly dreams, particularly those involving Puvort and Kadara. The dream-scenes were seldom pleasant. Even the dreams of Deybri included the time she had chastised him for trying to shield himself against nonexistent chaos in learning how to handle the falchiona.
In time, he did wake from the fever, on oneday morning, according to Hewart, who had hovered over him and clearly had some ability as a healer.
“Have I just lain here the whole time?”
“Hardly… you’ve eaten and washed and talked, but you weren’t really here,” replied Hewart. “You had as much of an order-loss fever as a real one, and there was some wound chaos in your throat and lungs. That was probably from being so close to the Jeranyi ship that caught fire and exploded. You talked some.”
“Ah…” Did he really want to know what he’d said? “What did I say?”
“Most of it didn’t make too much sense, especially at first when you mostly muttered and whispered, but you did keep saying that you tried to find the captain and tell him, and something about the Jeranyi getting caught in the fire of the Nylan Merchant place, but that made sense, because that was where the big fire happened.” Hewart looked embarrassed. “Did you have a girl named Deybri? You kept saying her name.”
“She’s a healer, but she was never my girl. I wish she were,” Rahl admitted.
“Rahl… what happened on the pier? Do you remember?”
How much should he say? Rahl took another swallow of the beer in the mug on the table beside the bed before answering. “I thought one of the concealed guns on the pier side of the ship exploded, and then there were more explosions. I felt like the whole ship would explode and there was nowhere to go. So I jumped into the harbor.” All that was true, if hardly complete.
“That was smart. It probably saved your life. Did you see the captain?”
Rahl shook his head. “I was looking for him, but I never saw him.”
Hewart looked to the infirmary door. “There are some important mage-guards here who need to talk to you. They’ve been waiting.”
Rahl could feel a chill go all the way through him. “Who?”
“The regional commander, Jyrolt, and a mage-guard from Luba named Taryl. I never heard of him, but both the others defer to him,- and I never saw a regional commander ever defer to anyone except the Emperor, the over-commander, or the Triad.”
“I heard that he was once part of the Triad.” Rahl just hoped Taryl would understand and could help. Otherwise, he was likely headed for Highpoint or Luba, if not worse.
“Oh…” Hewart looked to the infirmary door as it opened. “I think they’re here.” He moved away from Rahl’s bed.
Taryl was the first one into the room, and he merely looked at Hewart, who immediately stepped back, then departed after Jyrolt and a third mage-guard entered.
“Rahl,” began Taryl, “you know Jyrolt, and this is Regional Mage-Commander Chaslyk.”
“Ser…” Rahl inclined his head to the tall and‘ muscular figure, whose black eyes, olive skin, and angular face created a physically commanding presence. Even so, Taryl dominated the room.
“I have this feeling,” said Taryl, a slight smile upon his face as he looked at Rahl, “that you know far more than you’ve said about the situation here in Swartheld.”
Rahl noted that Jyrolt felt more than a little nervous. Chaslyk, despite shields at least as tight as Craelyt’s had been, was both concerned and angry.
“Before we begin, however,” Taryl added, “I’d like you to tell me honestly what you think each of us is feeling.”
Rahl didn’t want to, but Taryl had saved his life, and he .owed the older mage-guard. After a brief hesitation, he said, “Yes, ser. You’re somewhat amused. Mage-Examiner Jyrolt is nervous and worried, and Regional Mage-Commander Chaslyk, behind his shields, is angry and most concerned.”
Chaslyk’s concern grew more intense.
“Do you know why I asked that question?” Taryl was still smiling.
“I don’t know, ser, but I would guess it might have something to do with Undercaptain Craelyt.”
“What happened to him?” Chaslyk’s voice was cold. “Did you have anything to do with his death?”
“Commander.” The coolness in Taryl’s one-word address froze the senior officer. “I think we need to hear what happened from the beginning. Then you can address specific questions to the mage-guard. If you would, Rahl…”
“Yes,, ser.” Rahl cleared his throat. “It began even before I was drugged and sent to Luba. That was when I smelled the vinegar in the Nylan Merchant Association warehouse and saw the barrels of Feyn River pickles…”
“Pickles?” murmured Chaslyk.
Rahl paused, and Taryl looked at Chaslyk. Chaslyk, seething beneath his shields, closed his mouth.
‘There was no reason to ship pickles…“ Rahl went on to explain how he’d ended up in Luba, been discovered and trained, returned as a junior mage-guard to Swartheld, and then how he’d been reminded of the pickles and discovered the link between the pickles and the Jeranyi, and what had happened afterward. The only thing he omitted was his killing of Asmyd, the mage-guard who had tried to kill him back when he’d been a clerk. ”… and when the ship was about to explode, I jumped in the harbor.“
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” asked Chaslyk.
“I did, ser. I told Captain Gheryk that I thought there was a tie between the Jeranyi and Shyret as soon as I figured that out; but I didn’t know what it was except that they were shipping barrels marked as pickles, and that didn’t make sense. I probably should have recalled earlier that cammabark was always shipped damp in vinegar, but I just didn’t. He told me that was something serious and not to snoop around more, and that he’d take care of it. I didn’t snoop any more, but when I saw the three Jeranyi ships and all those pickle barrels headed for the Merchant Association warehouse, I realized that there might be a terrible problem, and I went looking for the captain. I never found him, and the undercaptain wasn’t there, either, or I would have reported what I discovered to him. But when I couldn’t find either one, after what had happened with the attack on the pier-guard station and the strange way Caersyn acted, I didn’t know who I could go to.”
“Do you know why the undercaptain attacked you?” asked Taryl.
“No, ser. I knew he was angry that I had discovered what was happening with the Jeranyi, and he was quite clear in telling me that my investigating was insubordination. He also didn’t want me to tell anyone else.”
“You actually heard the Jeranyi giving orders to attack other merchanting warehouses?” demanded Chaslyk. “Yes, ser.”
“It appears that all of the workers at the Merchant Association were killed. We did find the remains of the director and a clerk.”
All of them? Rahl had suspected that, but it was another thing to hear it.
“Why do you think that this Shyret was cooperating?”
“Because the warehouse was empty of all goods, ser. I would guess—it’s only a guess—that he sold or moved them and was going to claim everything burned. I’d been. drugged, and one of the drivers was killed in an accident. I don’t think it was an accident. Also, one of the clerks before me had just disappeared. When I learned all of this, and remembered that Shyret was going to be moved to another post this year, it made more sense.” Rahl paused. “Oh, there was one other thing. When I was a checker in Luba, another checker who’d been a merchant clerk said he’d been framed. His name was Masayd, and he claimed that a mage-guard supervisor named Ventaryl destroyed certain records and did things for certain factors when the undercaptain told him to, but he didn’t say which undercaptain.”
That brought Chaslyk up with a start.
“I didn’t tell anyone that,” Rahl added, “because I didn’t know who the undercaptain might be, but Masayd thought he was telling the truth.”
Jyrolt nodded. After a moment, so did Chaslyk.
“Why didn’t you trust the undercaptain?”
Rahl shrugged, almost helplessly. “Ser… I wish I could tell you. He kept his shields so tight all the time… oh, and the other things were that he really emphasized that I should keep away from the Merchant Association— but the captain told me not to tell the undercaptain anything, and I didn’t. And when the undercaptain pulled me off the pier while the Jeranyi were loading the pickle barrels—”
“The captain told you not to tell the undercaptain?”
“Yes, ser. He said to tell no one but him anything, and to approach him only in a way that was not obvious.”
Taryl looked to the regional commander.
Rahl could tell that Chaslyk’s anger had almost vanished, but his concerns were far greater.
“Pickles…” There was an actual note of humor in the commander’s voice. “Total disaster averted because a mage-guard smelled pickles.” He shook his head. “Years from now, it will make a great story. Right now… I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it to those of us here.”
“Yes, ser.” Rahl couldn’t hide his puzzlement. There was obviously far more going on than he knew.
Chaslyk straightened. “Jyrolt and I have a few more items to take care of, including talking to certain mage-guards. I believe you can handle what else Rahl needs to know, Taryl. If you would excuse us…”
Taryl smiled. “I can do that.” Taryl smiled at Jyrolt. “My congratulations and condolences, Captain.”
Captain? Jyrolt was being made captain of the mage-guard stations in Swartheld? Or somewhere else?
Taryl did not speak until the infirmary door closed once again. “There is more, of course. It appears Shyret was killed earlier, but his body was badly burned. We have found no records, even at his dwelling, but his house and the barn upon his grounds are filled with goods, and there were more than a thousand golds in a hidden strongbox there. We have seized the golds and goods as reparations for the damage created by the Jeranyi and Shyret. Furthermore, all Jeranyi vessels have been banned from all ports in Hamor.” Taryl snorted. “That will do little good because they will simply sell their stolen goods elsewhere, or transfer them to other vessels for consignment sales here, but at times even the Emperor must make great and meaningless gestures.”
“What was the purpose… ?”
“Of the attack? If they had succeeded in destroying all the warehouses, they would have reduced trade to a fraction of its volume for some time. A good amount of the Emperor’s revenues come from the tariffs. That would have made it more difficult to fund the efforts against the rebellion in Merowey, and the Emperor would have been required to send at least some warships on patrols and efforts against Jeranyi pirates, and perhaps waste time and effort blockading and bombarding the port of Jera. Any success would have been slight at best, but not doing so would have signified weakness and indifference, and those are even more costly. Using warships against the Jeranyi would have resulted in fewer ships to patrol the approaches to Sastak and the smaller ports in the southwest and would have made it easier and less costly for the rebels to obtain supplies. It also would have raised the prices that the Jeranyi could charge for what they sold. At least for a time.” Taryl paused.
“Ah… ser…” Rahl wasn’t quite sure how to ask what was to become of him, and he was even less certain he wanted to know.
“You’re worried about what might happen to you?” The former Triad mage nodded. “That’s understandable for a junior mage-guard who created one of the largest fires in years in Swartheld, even to prevent a worse conflagration, not to mention killing a superior and disobeying direct orders.”
Rahl tried not to swallow. “I remembered your words, ser… the ones about not taking matters into my own hands, but…if I didn’t…”
“It happens that way, but I’m glad you did think about it first.” Then, surprisingly, Taryl grinned. “You still need some reminders that you have much to learn. It has been decided that your talents are not being used to their fullest here in Swartheld. Also, there will be speculation about how you survived the explosion and who killed Craelyt, not to mention the captain’s disappearance.”
“That had to be Craelyt,” Rahl interjected.
“Without a doubt, but… how could anyone really prove it?” continued Taryl. “Then, too, it would be difficult for any captain, even Jyrolt, to concentrate fully on what he must do to rebuild the port station when he knows that one of his junior mage-guards is as… capable as you are, as well as inexperienced in understanding all that the mage-guards are and must be.”
Was he being sent to Highpoint or worse? Or merely some small village in the middle of nowhere? That might be a relief.