Free The Death of Chaos by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

being an order-master.” Yelena rode up beside me, and I had to look up at the squad leader. Her mount was a good four hands taller than Gairloch.
       “Like one never gives up being a member of the Finest?”
       “You die with your boots on, anyway.”
       “You are so cheerful this morning.” I thwacked Gairloch too hard for a mere pat, but he only whuffed again.
       Weldein tried to suppress a grin. Freyda and the other guard-Jylla was her name, if I recalled correctly-rode silently behind us.
       My fingers strayed to the replacement staff in the converted lance holder. It was just solid lorken, but bound in iron- without the sort of order infusion that my old one had possessed. Of course, I'd given it that infusion, without really knowing it. As Justen had pointed out, that was one of the problems. Recluce-and my father-hadn't taught me enough, and I still didn't understand why.
       “It's better than doing guard duty around the citadel.”
       “Speak for yourself,” said Jylla cheerfully.
       “Women,” muttered Weldein.
       Since we were outnumbered, I saw no reason to comment, but shifted my weight and hoped that the day stayed cool.
       I pulled the staff from the holder and began to run through the mounted exercises, since I rarely practiced them, my infrequent sparring being generally on foot.
       After a time I replaced the staff, conscious that Freyda had been watching. I raised my eyebrows.
       “Only the red bitch is better, I think.”
       I tried not to choke. “The red bitch?”
       “The gray wizard's apprentice. The subcommander made us spar against her.” Freyda winced. “My ribs still hurt, and that was three days ago.”
       “You sparred with her yesterday, didn't you, Order-master?” asked Yelena. The question was not quite a question.
       “Yes. I think I held her to a draw.”
       “She had a few new bruises, I think.”
       Tamra? I'd actually bruised her? I shook my head.
       Yelena gave me a bemused smile as Freyda and Jylla exchanged glances. I fingered the staff, then concentrated on riding. We had to go through Kyphrien to get to the east road, and the mixed odor of overcooked lamb and goat, onions, and less mentionable items struck me long before we got onto the avenue. The babble was the same as always.
       “... Mytara, if I've told you once about eggs...”
       “... finest bronze in Candar...”
       “You'd think that she'd appreciate a solid provider, but, no, she's got to insist on a dandy, one with a pretty face. What will she do when she's got three offspring, and needs money for a serving girl? Does she think of that...”
       “... and you could have walked the lake and not dampened your boots...”
       “Let Hyrella tell your fortune! A mere copper. Will you grudge a mere copper to learn your fate?”
       “... best pies in Kyphros...”
       “Thief! Thief! Get the little scamp!”
       My eyes darted to the thin figure who pounded down the cobblestone road, scuttled between two women, and darted into a narrow alleyway leading down toward the river.
       The heavyset merchant puffed to a stop and glared at Yelena. “You serve the autarch, and you let him get away! Why didn't you stop him?”
       Yelena reined up, and so did I. Several passersby turned.
       “Well, why didn't you stop him?” The man's heavy waxed mustaches waved as he panted out his question.
       “I would have had to ride over people,” answered Yelena.
       “That's no answer. You let a thief get away! I intend to let the autarch know of this... disgraceful...”
       “... there goes Fusion again...”
       “... too fat to chase anyone and too crooked for anyone to help him...”
       Fusion turned. “I heard that. Liars! Liars!”
       “...too fat...”
       “... too full of himself, he is...”
       Yelena struggled to keep a straight face, as Fusion rolled his bulk back to face me. “You! Tell those