Ordermaster (23 page)

   
After eating in the small dining room, alone, Kharl checked to see if Hagen had returned, but the lord-chancellor was nowhere to be found. So Kharl retired to his quarters, took a lukewarm bath, trying to clean out his scrapes and bruises, and finally climbed into bed. His sleep was fitful, but undisturbed by outside influences.

   
When he woke the next morning, his left leg was almost as sore as it had been the night before, and far stiffer. The black holes in his vision had diminished to large spots, but his mouth still tasted like ashes.

   
There were guards stationed back outside Hagen's study, but Kharl decided to eat before reporting to Hagen. Then, he stood outside, silently, for almost half a glass before a lord he did not know departed. The man shot Kharl a quick glare, then strode off without a word.

   
"You can go in, ser. The lord-chancellor ... he's waiting," offered one of the guards.

   
Hagen didn't say a word until Kharl had seated himself. "I understand that you had a pitched battle with Hensolas and his forces and the white wizard. You've got more bruises and scrapes, I see."

   
"We did. They were tracking us while we were tracking them..." Kharl described, as briefly as he could what had happened-but not how. "... there were but a few armsmen left on their side after it was all over. Most everything around us got burned to ashes." He decided against explaining how he had been injured.

   
Hagen laughed, harshly. "So I just heard. Lord Sheram is less than perfectly pleased."

   
Kharl had no idea even who the lord was-unless he was the man who had left just before Kharl had entered. "Why?"

   
"Your battle with Hensolas and the white wizard destroyed his red pear orchard. That orchard is one of the few that survived the red blight of twenty years ago, and the yearly crop of those pears provided Lord Sheram with several hundred golds a year." Hagen's voice was level, with little sign of either wry humor or anger.

   
"I certainly didn't intend to destroy the orchard. Hensolas and the white wizard attacked us."

   
"That may be, but Lord Ghrant does not like to create more unhappy lords."

   
Kharl suppressed his reaction to snap back. Hagen was only stating facts. After a moment, he said, "Hensolas was the one responsible. He rebelled. He attacked. Why not allow this Lord ..." Kharl hadn't caught the lord's name, or perhaps he hadn't wanted to.

"Sheram," Hagen supplied.

   
"... this Lord Sheram to pick a property of comparable value from Hensolas's lands and estates?"

   
"That might be acceptable to Sheram. Lord Ghrant will doubtless find it so, because it will further weaken Hensolas's son's ability to raise arms in the future."

   
"If they had all stood behind Ghrant, none of this would have happened," Kharl declared.

   
"That is true," Hagen agreed, "but that is not the way they will see matters. They will claim that Ghrant's weakness led to the revolt."

   
"They were revolting and following Ilteron before Ghrant even had a chance to show strength or weakness," Kharl pointed out.

   
"They do not see it that way. They never will. They perceived Ghrant as weak, and they hold him responsible for their perceptions."

   
Kharl could see no point in arguing against that. "And now they're angry because I show that he has strength?"

   
Hagen laughed. "That makes them twice as angry, because they have found they were wrong, and your actions have shown them to have been mistaken for all of Austra to see."

Kharl took a long and deep breath.

   
"Do you see why I would rather be back on the bridge of the Seastag?" asked Hagen.

   
The mage nodded. "Nothing pleases any of them, and yet they are largely responsible for what has happened."

"As I said, that may be true, but they do not see it that way."

   
"Do they ever?" Kharl was convinced that most lords were that way. Certainly, Lord West and his son Egen had been. It had all been Kharl's fault that Egen had been humiliated, when Egen had been in fact assaulting and raping young women at will. But Kharl had been the one flogged, and his consort executed for a murder that had been committed by an assassin hired by Egen-not that Kharl would ever be able to prove such.

"No," admitted Hagen.

"Does Lord Ghrant know about Hensolas?"

   
"The circumstances of Hensolas's death were acceptable to Lord Ghrant."

"Acceptable?"

   
"That was the word he used," replied the lord-chancellor, not disguising the sardonic tone of his words. "Acceptable," Hagen glanced at the goblet on the table desk.

"How is your throat?"

   
"Better. So long as I don't have to talk too much placating lords who wish everything and risk nothing. None of them would last a season as traders." The lord-chancellor took a sip from the goblet. "Lord Ghrant

wishes to know how long before you can arrange an equally suitable incident for Fergyn."

"I'll need a few days to rest. I sometimes still can't see straight."

   
"It's a good thing you were a cooper, ser mage. Any mage less strong than you wouldn't have survived what you've created."

"Sometimes, I almost haven't," Kharl admitted.

   
Hagen laughed. "Get some rest and some more food. We'll talk tomorrow. That is, unless something else happens before then." He stood.

   
Kharl smiled. He wished Hagen hadn't added the last sentence, although he couldn't imagine what else could happen that had not already. More of the same, perhaps, and that would be bad enough.

XXV

v_/n threeday, Kharl decided against trying to see Hagen immediately after breakfast, and instead returned to his quarters to study-and to think. While the problem of the white mages was solved, for the moment, Fergyn remained in revolt and was avoiding any semblance of battle. At the same time, Kharl realized how fortunate he had been in his encounters, though he had not thought so at the time. He also understood that he could not continue to draw the order out of living things, even trees and crops, not for long and remain welcome in Austra. He needed to find a better technique for dealing with chaos-fire and white mages. Whatever technique that might require was not described in The Basis of Order. But then, very few techniques were.

   
Kharl settled into the most comfortable chair in his sitting room and, once more, began to leaf through the black book that was far more worn than he would ever have believed possible when it had fallen into his hands less than a year before. He turned page after page. The light coming through the window behind him strengthened as the morning sun burned away the mists. He paused at the paragraph near the bottom of one page.

   
One might also say it yet another way. Chaos is power without form, and order is the form that enables chaos to inspire the spirit

of life, to allow the crafting of tools and of all manner of devices that improve the way of life of man and woman . ..

   
That was true enough, Kharl reflected, but not exactly helpful. He kept reading. Some twenty pages later, he came across another few words. He had seen them before, but there was something about them that had nagged him before ... and still did.

   
One danger of order-magery or chaos-magery is that the mage who handles either in mighty efforts may become what he attempts to control. For a part of that mage must accompany the order or chaos that he infuses or creates. An order-mage may become so fixated upon order that he can do nothing without a structure so rigid that he accomplishes nothing of value . ..

Kharl skipped farther down the page.

   
... more unnoticed is the danger that order or chaos may rebound upon him who casts it forth, for there is a tie between what is cast forth and the one who casts it...

   
The mage frowned. If there were such ties ... could he use order to strengthen them? Ties had to have a basis in order. That might be far easier than creating hardened air tubes.

   
He laughed silently. Once he developed such a technique, it might be easier, but could he do so? How? What would happen if he did?

Thrap.

"Ser Kharl? Are you there?"

   
Kharl looked up in irritation. "Yes?" He cast forth his order-senses without rising from the chair. A man, an armsman, stood outside his door.

"The lord-chancellor'd be seeing you right quick."

   
"I'll be with you in a moment." Kharl closed The Basis of Order, set it on the side table, and slowly rose from the chair. The stiffness was worse when he hadn't moved for a time. He made his way to the door and out into the corridor.

   
As he closed the door behind him, the armsman, another he had not seen before, turned without speaking. Kharl followed him down to Hagen's study.

   
There, one of the guards spoke. "The lord-chancellor said for you to go right in, ser Kharl. The other mage is already there."

"Thank you."

   
The other mage? Lyras? Could there be any other in Austra? What was he doing in the Great House? From Lyras's own words, he avoided the Great House and the Lords of Austra in any way possible. As Kharl stepped into Hagen's study, even before he closed the door behind himself, his eyes took in Lyras first. The older mage looked even more gray than Kharl recalled.

   
Lyras rose from the chair on one side of the table desk and bowed. "Ser Kharl."

   
"Lyras. I had not expected to find you here." Kharl inclined his head out of respect.

"I had not expected to be here."

   
"We have news that is less than good." Hagen gestured to the other empty chair.

   
Kharl settled into it, gingerly, and, without a word, waited for Hagen to explain.

   
"While you and Undercaptain Demyst were dealing with Hensolas," Hagen said, his eyes on Kharl, "the Hamorians landed a force at Northbay. That's fifteen kays to the northeast of Valmurl, just east of the Nierran Hills. The harbor there is small, with just one pier, mostly for fishing craft. They've taken over the town for now, but they'll likely start their march on Valmurl tomorrow or the next day. Lyras was telling me that there are two more white wizards with them."

   
Two more? How many did Hamor have that the emperor could keep sending them? Kharl glanced at Lyras.

   
"One doesn't seem that powerful. The other one-I've never sensed a white wizard that strong." Lyras turned to Kharl apologetically. "Begging your pardon, ser Kharl."

   
"They also brought another company of lancers, doubtless to serve as his personal guard. I'd wager that Fergyn and his forces will move north and that they'll join the Hamorians at Ghalmat. That's a town about eight kays up the Fahsa River from the harbor at Valmurl. Ghalmat's where the northeast road from Valmurl ends. The river road from there to Northbay isn't much better than a cart path."

   
Kharl didn't pretend to understand totally the geography, but it was clear enough that the Hamorians had picked the small harbor because it

would not be easy for Ghrant to send forces there, even if he had known about the landing.

   
Hagen added, "Fostak and Lord Joharak departed from Valmurl last night on a Nordlan trader."

"That's ..." Kharl wasn't sure what it was, except a sign of trouble.

   
"As close to war as Hamor will go," Hagen replied. "It's also a sign that Lord Joharak realized that his position here was about to become untenable. He didn't wait for a Hamorian ship."

"The emperor would just have left him here if he hadn't left on his

own?"

   
"There are privileges associated with being an envoy, but there are also risks." Hagen's smile was brief and cold.

   
"The Hamorians intend to make Fergyn their puppet, you think?" asked Kharl.

   
"Oh ... the emperor might even let him have some real power, so long as he serves Hamor," replied Hagen. "Or ... he might just be trying to foment so much internal warfare and bloodshed that everyone would welcome the stability that Hamor would bring."

"The lords would not like that," Lyras pointed out.

   
"There won't be any of them left," Hagen said. "They'll either die in the fighting or flee before Hamor takes total control of Austra."