“Yes, ser.”
“Now…let me tell you about how the mage-guards came to be…”
LXXXVII
By late afternoon on fourday, Rahl was standing midships on the main deck by the railing of the Streamcrawler-a squat steam tug that seemed mostly massive engine and boilers and little else. He had not expected there would be three long barges, linked by thick hawsers, all heavily loaded with iron plate and rods and beams, guided by a steam tug. Nor had he anticipated being on a river that stretched close to half a kay from bank to bank, yet one so deep that the water barely seemed to ripple except when disturbed by the passage of one craft or another, and not for long.
The black basalt hills overlooking the river port of Luba were behind them, at least thirty kays upstream, and had given way to a mixture of low, rolling hills to the east of the river and neat, irrigated fields to the west. On the broad Swarth River itself were all manner of craft, from the heavy barges to skiffs to small sailboats that were almost without keels and skittered across the dark waters in the light breezes. Only once in the entire afternoon had Rahl seen a river steamer, but it had been a handsome craft painted in crimson and green, with three full decks, and a handful of passengers dressed in finery on the uppermost deck, below the pilothouse, with scores of others on the main deck, some carrying what looked to be all that they possessed in large bundles.
As the sun dropped lower in the western sky, and the shadows crept across the water that was turning from dark blue to oily black, Rahl continued to watch the other craft on the river, as well as the hamlets they passed, as the tug and the barges glided downstream, with the muffled chuffing of the steam engine the loudest sound.
“The river’s the heart of western Hamor,” said Jyrolt from behind Rahl. “Have you ever seen its like?”
“No.” Rahl had never really seen a true river. In the north of Recluce there were only streams. He’d heard that the Feyn was a goodly-sized river, but he’d crossed it locked in a wagon and never seen it.
“You never will. It’s the mightiest river in all the world, more than two thousand five hundred kays from its mountain headwaters to the harbor bay at Swartheld, and no real cataracts on it until you’re well south of Cigoerne. That makes travel between Cigoerne and Swartheld easy.” Jyrolt laughed. “They say that all the trades and goods flow down the river, and the golds fly back up. There’s a bit of truth in that.”
As the mage-guard spoke, the captain called out, “Starboard for the bar!”
The tug eased away from the western shore. The heavy hawsers connecting the tug to the barges creaked, and something groaned.
“Steady as she goes.”
“Why is that?” Rahl finally asked the older mage-guard.
“Going upstream on the river takes good winds or a strong engine. It’s much easier to send cargo down and sell it or ship it from Swartheld than to pay to ship upstream-unless it’s something very light and valuable, like spices or dyes or perfumes or women’s oils.”
“With all those valuables, are mage-guards stationed on ships on the river? Aren’t there brigands?”
“The river makes that difficult, but even if it did not, we would not put mage-guards on ships and boats. Who would decide which would benefit?” Jyrolt shook his head. “We have stations at all the major river ports, and we catch most of those few who have created chaos on the river, but those on the river have to provide their own guards.”
Rahl couldn’t help but frown.
“The mage-guards provide order, Rahl,” Jyrolt went on. “You should know that our duty is not to protect commerce and coins, but to maintain order and contain chaos. The river is a channel of commerce. Except for those who serve the Emperor, almost no one who travels the river does so but for reasons of commerce, and commerce can and should take care of itself, so long as it does not create chaos or disrupt order. The same is true of people.”
Rahl was having trouble with what Jyrolt was saying. How could one maintain order and contain chaos without protecting people? When he’d read that passage in the Manual, he’d wondered, but he’d assumed that maintaining order meant protecting people. Now, he wished he’d asked Taryl about it.
He hated to ask stupid questions, and he felt angry at himself for not understanding and even angry at Taryl for not explaining, but he had the feeling he’d best find out what Jyrolt and the Manual really meant.
“There’s something I don’t think I understand, ser, and I should.”
Jyrolt just raised his bushy eyebrows.
“How can I be a mage-guard without trying to protect people who are innocent or who are likely to be hurt?”
The older mage-guard nodded slowly. “That is not a stupid question, simple as it might sound to some. You are at a disadvantage in some respects, because you were not lectured on this as most mage-clerks are, and your actions would indicate that you understood, and Taryl would have gone by your actions.” Jyrolt’s brow furrowed. “I’m not a lecturer or a philosopher, and I might not word this as carefully as they would, but…when anyone uses the word protect, they’re talking about using force to stop an evil that is happening or will happen. The emphasis shifts from maintaining order and containing chaos to applying force to those who may or may not need it. Commerce is powerful enough by itself. When a trader talks about the need for protection, he or she is really asking for an advantage over others, backed by the force of the Emperor. This is also often true of individuals. That is why we do not talk about protection. The use of force against others is chaos. We oppose that, whether that force is chaos itself or order focused against someone. We seek to have anyone of any stature walk our streets without fear, and we seek to keep the laws that govern us simple and obvious. Why do you think mages are forbidden from commerce in Hamor? There are two reasons. The first is obvious. Many mages can sense what others feel, and some can use those skills to persuade through manipulation or force. That destroys any element of order in commerce. The second reason is that using such skills will eventually destroy the mage and all those close to him. Even Recluce and Fairhaven understand this, although they keep their mages from commerce in other fashions…”
Rahl thought he understood, but he had the feeling it was going to take some time for him to sort it out.
“As for those who suffer through no fault of their own…we do not turn them out. You have seen Luba. You have endured it. Did you see cruelty? Hard work, yes, but most of those there had brought chaos upon others, and we always look to sift out those who are otherwise. How else would you be a mage-guard?”
Rahl had to offer a faint smile at that…and yet…
Swartheld
LXXXVIII
On sevenday morning, Rahl sat beside Caersyn-the station duty mage-in the foyer that seemed half study, the same place where he had once gone to register, more than a year before. The mage-guard station was the same one Rahl remembered-right off the main piers of the harbor beyond the enumerators’ building. What he had not noticed then were the two adjacent buildings almost tucked away farther shoreward toward the bluff and slightly to the south. One was the gaol, for holding offenders until they could be sent to the quarries or Luba, or until a case could be resolved, and the other served as quarters for unconsorted mage-guards. He had been given a small main-floor chamber, off the middle of the corridor, but it was his alone, for which he was grateful.
On the wagon, and on the barge downstream, Jyrolt had talked far more about the overall mission of the mage-guards, and about their history than about specifics of mage-guard duties. Rahl had found it interesting that the early emperors had been ordermages, not chaos-mages, and that one of them had actually created the mage-guards, but now he was listening carefully to Caersyn, because he needed to know more.