Read Online Natural Ordermage by L. E. Modesitt Jr. - Free Book Online Page A

the failure of the
ruler of Jerans to abate such reprehensible acts…
    … all in Reduce are hereby notified that any
and all trade and commerce with any vessel bearing a Jeranyi flag or crewed by
Jeranyi or owned by Jeranyi is hereby forbidden. Purchase of goods from Jerans
is also prohibited, and any merchant or factor holding such goods must dispose
of them within an eightday of the date of this notice—or turn them over to the
Council for partial compensation. Any trader or merchant from Jerans is to
leave Reduce within an eightday of the date of this notice. All who fail to do
so may have all goods and coins confiscated, at the determination of a justicer
appointed by the Council…
     
    After a moment, he looked toward Kian.
“What good will this do? Why don’t they just go out and destroy the pirates?”
    “The oceans are vast, and Reduce has but
few ships compared to the size of those oceans…” began Kian.
    “—and the ships that can catch and
destroy the pirates belong to the engineers in Nylan, and they don’t want to
spend their time chasing pirates?”
    Kian shook his head. “It’s not that
simple. They’ve caught and sunk a score of pirate vessels, or so I’ve heard,
but some of the pirates fly different flags in every port they enter and change
the names on their ships. The important part is the expulsion of the traders.
Factors, merchants, and traders account for far more coins than do the pirates,
especially those who work with the pirates and sell their plunder.”
    “The Council wants the traders to put
pressure on the Duke of Jerans to stop the piracy,” Rahl suggested.
    “He’s an autarch, I think. Or maybe a
consul who theoretically pledges allegiance to Sarronnyn. But they have that in
mind. What will happen is that our factors and traders will trade more with
those they know and trust and less with those they don’t. They won’t like it,
but the magisters will come back and ask them, and if they lie, they’ll be
exiled as well.”
    “What if they’re honestly mistaken?”
    “Then they’ll be warned and watched more
closely.”
    Rahl wondered what that would do to Fahla
and her family.
    “Now… I’ll make the first one, and you
can use that as a model,” Kian began.
    Rahl watched and waited, then began on a
third copy while Kian started a second one.
    Neither spoke much as the afternoon
waned.
    When Rahl finished his last copy, the sun
was low in the sky, low but still not close to twilight. Kian waited for the
posterboards to dry because the heavier stock absorbed more ink.
    “Ten fair copies in an afternoon, with
the Council embellishments! A good day’s work. A good day’s work,” repeated
Kian, before turning to Rahl. ”You can start cleaning up. But check the new
batch of ink first.“
    “Yes, ser.” Rahl stretched and then
headed for the door.
    Kian’s request to check the ink was as
close to a compliment as Rahl was likely to get, because it meant Kian had no
complaints about Rahl’s latest work. But then, reflected Rahl, his hand was as
good as his father’s. Also, because he could feel what was happening, his inks
usually turned out better than his father’s, not that he was going to say that.
He just wished at times his father would recognize it.
    Outside in the mild air that had followed
the storm earlier in the eightday, Rahl couldn’t help but think about what
Magister Puvort had said. The more he thought about it, the more it felt like a
trap. Yet, at some point, Puvort might mention it to Rahl’s parents. He would
need to tell them, but at the right time.
    Rahl used his order-sense to help the
melding and mixing of the oak galls, the bit of added iron-brimstone, and the
tree gum. When he’d been younger, he’d wondered why his parents didn’t see when
some things didn’t go together. They’d just looked at him blankly, and, after a
very short time, he had stopped asking.
    He closed the shed door carefully and
went back to the pump and