“What if I take one-just for the voyage? Not to wear in Swartheld.”
Kadara actually grinned. “Might not be a bad idea. Especially since you’ve not been seafaring.” The grin faded. “Don’t be late.”
“No, magistra.”
With that, Kadara was gone.
After making his way to the serving table and filling a bowl and taking some dark bread, Rahl made his way to the unoccupied corner of a table in the mess. He sat down and looked at the fish stew over noodles. He ate one bite, then another, before taking a swallow of ale. He looked to the west-facing windows and the white-golden light slanting through them. Tomorrow?
He’d known he’d have to leave Nylan, but he hadn’t expected it to happen quite so suddenly. He was being sent to Hamor all because he didn’t fit what the magisters expected of a beginning mage. Do it our way, or be on your way. That was what it amounted to, and it wasn’t as though he hadn’t tried. He had tried, but sometimes things just didn’t follow their precious Basis of Order. Of what use were rules and precepts when they didn’t apply? And what wisdom was there in denying that sometimes the rules weren’t applicable?
The problem was that it didn’t matter what he thought or what made sense. The magisters and the Council had the power to exile him, and he couldn’t do anything about it that wouldn’t make his own situation even worse.
He slowly finished his meal.
Then, after rinsing his dishes and washing up, in the light of early twilight, Rahl walked downhill, then eastward to Deybri’s small house.
He hoped she happened to be there, although he saw no light behind the curtains in the front window. Still…he rapped on the ancient oak door, its surface golden brown and showing a tracery of age lines.
There was no response, and he rapped again. He could sense someone there, and he thought it was Deybri.
Finally, the door opened halfway, and Deybri stood there wearing trousers and a short-sleeved collared shirt. She was barefoot. “You would know that I was here.”
“I came to say good-bye.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow, I think. I have to be on the ship in the morning. It might be oneday or twoday. I don’t know how long it takes them to off-load and on-load.”
“Usually a day, sometimes two, usually not more than three.”
Rahl was puzzled by the combination of indifferent tone and the concern lying behind her almost flat words. After a moment, he said, “You’ve been interested in me, but you’ve kept me at a distance. It’s not just because I’m younger, is it?”
“No.” Deybri smiled sadly. “It’s because you won’t come back.” She held up a hand to forestall any interruption. “If you fail to find what you need to discover, you won’t be back. If you do, Nylan will be too small and confining for you, and you won’t be back.” She shrugged. “I’m not someone who does things by half. Or in smaller fractions. For some people, every small bite of life can be tasted by itself. For me, it can’t. So I pass on some sweet morsels because the memory of their taste would turn bitter.”
Rahl stood there, thinking about what she said.
“You don’t look back, Rahl. That’s not in your nature. I’d wager you scarcely even think about the girls you liked or loved in Land’s End. I’m not blaming you. You are what you are. Each of us is. You live for the now and the future. I live from the past into the present and don’t dwell on a future that I can only experience when it arrives each morning. That’s also why you won’t be back. The past has no hold on you.” She bent forward and kissed him gently on the lips. “Perhaps this will remain with you for a time.” Then she stepped back. “Good night and good-bye, Rahl.”
He just watched as she closed the door, so gently that it did not even click.
Then he turned and headed back toward the training center…for his last night there, thinking about her words. “The past has no hold on you.” No hold on him?
XXXIII
On oneday morning, Rahl was finishing breakfast at the mess-his last breakfast there, he reflected, when Aleasya stepped through the south door and walked over to his table. “I brought you something. It’s from Zastryl and me.” She extended a truncheon, along with a half scabbard for the weapon.
Rahl stood, then just looked for a moment. The truncheon was of lorken, the hard black wood that resisted even black iron and steel, with a black-iron band just below the swordlike haft. Simple as it looked, Rahl could tell that the workmanship was outstanding.
“Go ahead. Take it. It’s yours.”
Rahl wanted more than anything to grasp it. “How can I? It’s too good for me. I couldn’t…”
Aleasya smiled. “You have to. We had it made for you. Hamor is no place for an unarmed person.”
Finally, Rahl took the weapon, turning it in his hand. “Thank you. I can’t tell you…how much…this means.”
Aleasya beamed.
Rahl could tell she was pleased.
Then the smile faded. “Zastryl asked me to tell you something else. He said it was important, and that you should know it. First, don’t forget to take your copy of The Basis of Order.”
“I won’t.” Even though he was often doubtful of the book’s usefulness, Rahl had no intention of leaving it behind.
“Second, any references to a staff in the book also apply to truncheons. The book doesn’t say that, but they do. He said that it could be very important to you in times to come, but not yet, probably not for a year or so.”
Rahl wondered why the armsmaster would have emphasized The Basis of Order, but he respected Zastryl. If Zastryl had said that, then it was important. He’d have to reread the book on the voyage to see if he could discover exactly why Zastryl had sent the message. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Abruptly, Aleasya stepped forward and hugged him. “Take care.” She stepped back and was gone.
Rahl stood there, holding the truncheon and sensing belatedly the concern she had expressed. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? Or was it something that had only become real to her once she’d heard he was leaving? Yet…much as he appreciated the warmth and the hug, he wished it had come from Deybri…who had told him that the past had no hold on him.
He sat down slowly, setting the truncheon on the bench beside him. He looked at it once again before turning back to his platter. He finished his breakfast quickly, then belted the truncheon in place before making his way back to his quarters, where the canvas pack holding his few belongings waited.
After taking a last look around the chamber, he picked up the pack, shrugged and left, closing the door behind him. Outside, the sun beat down through a clear green-blue sky, promising another hot day. As he crossed the grounds, none of the magisters or magistras appeared to wish him well, and that irritated him, but he turned downhill. He wasn’t about to go looking for them.
Before reaching the piers, he stopped at the Merchant Association to say good-bye.
Varselt was actually out in the front talking to Wulff.
“…be especially careful these days in listing the declared value on goods coming out of Biehl and Jera…” He turned, and his eyes fixed on the pack Rahl carried. “Come to say good-bye?”
“Yes, ser. I’ve been told to report to the Legacy of Diev this morning.”
“That you have. That you have. Give my regards to Captain Liedra and my thanks to the magisters for your efforts here.” Varselt’s jowls flexed as his head bobbed up and down. “I’d wager you’ll be doing a fine job for Shyret in Swartheld as well. Now…best you be on your way and not keep the captain waiting.”