The Death of Chaos (54 page)

FOUR DAYS OF travel from Felsa found us nearing the high point on the pass through the Lower Easthorns. Each step eastward seemed to bring us closer to the chaos beneath, although I felt I was really the only one who sensed it. Still, I could feel the grrrrr... rrring in the deep rocks, sometimes so loudly I thought the ground would shake, but it didn't. Once, when I felt it, I looked at Justen, but his face was blank.

   Dayala still walked more than half the time, and I marveled at her endurance.

   “Don't you ever get tired?” I finally asked.

   “Not often,” said Justen.

   “The body is meant to work, and enjoy what it does-we are animals and need exercise.”

   They grinned at each other, and, again, they looked young, far younger than I knew they were, and I envied them. Why couldn't Krystal and I understand each other like that?

   Gairloch put one foot in front of the other, and so did Rose-foot, and, in time, the road leveled out in a long flat valley filled with a mixture of high green grass, short cedars, and boulders barely concealed by the grass. The road was clay, not quite dry enough to be dusty, and with few tracks indeed on its surface.

   In places, the grass had been cropped short, but, as on my first trip, I could see no sign of sheep or goats, even when I could make out the ruined waystation where I had weathered the storm on my first trip into Hydlen.

   “There's a spring behind the waystation.”

   “I can recall when that roof was fresh-thatched,” said Justen quietly. “It doesn't seem that long ago.”

   “Thatch? It looks like sod.”

   “It is,” said Dayala. “How long ago was it, Justen?”

   “Wrong waystation,” he groused. “I've seen a few, you know. More than a few, in fact.”

   Dayala grinned at me, and I had to grin back.

   I dismounted and led Gairloch toward the spring. So did Weldein and his half-squad, and one of the younger troopers- Pentryl-led his mount up beside Gairloch.

   Gairloch and the other horses drank from the lower, wider pool. I took out my water bottle.

   “What are you going to do when we see the enemy, ser?”

   “That depends.” I hadn't the faintest idea, really, and looked toward Justen.

   He shrugged.

   “Are you going to bury them in hot rock the way Berli said you did the last time?”

   “That was rather costly.”

   “But they're the enemy, ser. They'd kill us as soon as look at us.”

   “Some would, and some wouldn't.” I looked at the youngster's face and realized he wasn't all that much younger than I had been when I had left Recluce-older even, maybe. I didn't feel just a little older than he was, though. I felt older, a lot older. Not any wiser, though, just older. I bent down and began to fill the bottle.

   “If you don't kill them, then they'll just keep trying.” The youngster was insistent.

   “You're right. And if we do kill them, then all their relatives and everyone in Hamor will want to kill us even more.”

   “Always the problem with war,” offered Justen. “That's why so many conquerors just didn't bother to let anyone live.”

   “That was why the angels fled.” Dayala began to fill her water bottle as I was capping mine. “They did not wish to fight a war that would destroy both sides.”

   “Did it, Lady Druid?” asked Pentryl.

   “That is what the Legend says.”

   “One thing we also know,” added Justen as he took his turn filling his bottle. “If you fight, you eventually lose. If you don't, you lose immediately.”

   Pentryl looked from Justen to Dayala to me. “But... ?”

   “What the mage means, I think,” I attempted to explain, “is that war is a necessary evil, to be avoided whenever possible, and to be won as quickly and effectively as possible when it cannot be avoided.”

   “Pentryl! Move that beast. There's others of us need to water mounts.”

   “Stuff it, Huber,” retorted Pentryl, but he led his mount from the spring.

   Feeling guilty, I also led Gairloch away from the water and out under a low pine that offered some shade. Justen followed.

   “That wasn't a bad answer, Lerris. I'm not sure I agree, though.”

   “Why not?”

   “Because he doesn't want you to stop asking questions,” answered Dayala. “There are no lasting answers.”

   “You keep reminding me of that,” said Justen, taking her arm for a moment.

   She tilted her head and kissed him, gently, and yet, I could feel the emotion behind that single kiss, and hoped that even in ten years Krystal and I would feel that strongly.

   Somewhere, deep in the iron beneath the Easthorns, chaos rumbled, and I swallowed.

   After looking away for a time, I finally asked, after making sure the rest of the Finest were still at the spring or out of ear- shot, “What are we going to do about the Hamorians?”

   “Do you want to know?”

   “Probably not, but I should.”

   “We'll have to unbalance the Balance, raise order and chaos, and split them, and then let them reunite where the Hamorians are.” Justen snorted. “That assumes we can touch the Balance, that there's enough chaos energy beneath us, that the Hamorians aren't spread all over the countryside, and that they're stupid enough to try an attack, or not retreat.”

   “There's more than enough chaos beneath us, and it's stronger.”

   Justen looked at me and shook his head, almost sadly. I wanted to ask why, but did not, and then Weldein rode up.

   “We're watered. Shall we go on?”

   Justen nodded. As I mounted Gairloch again, I looked over at the waystation where I had first found the cedar length I hadn't really carved because I was still trying to determine the face beneath the grain. Why had I thought about the carving? Was the face Justen's? Or Krystal's? Or was it guilt that I hadn't finished it?

   I shook my head, not having an answer, and looked beyond the half-ruined sod roof to the patches of snow higher in the low mountains. As Gairloch carried me upward, I glanced back once more at the old waystation, where the ancient door had rotted off the heavy old iron hinges. In the late summer, the part of the sod-grass roof that had not collapsed into the hut was not only green, but still dotted with sprigs of small white and blue flowers.

   The sun had almost touched the rocky peaks behind us when Dayala nodded, and Justen held up his hand. I reined up, and so did Weldein, his arm upraised.

   Below us, the road swung in a wide circle, and on the far side of the turn was the gorge where the road joined the Fakla River. For at least several kays, if my memory were correct, the road would run on the south side of the stream that would become a full river many kays downhill.

   “... about time to stop. Don't want to make camp in the dark again...”

   “... stop complaining, Nytri...”

   “... you could be getting bashed by cannon in Ruzor...”

   Weldein gestured again, and the troopers fell silent. I could see the young faces of Pentryl and Huber straining to see what Justen was doing.

   “Lerris, where will that deep chaos be easier to touch? Here or farther downstream? Does it make any difference?” Justen frowned just slightly.

   I turned with a start. “I don't know. Let me try to check.”

   All the troopers-even Justen and Dayala-seemed to hold their breath as I sent my senses out and down. How long it took, I didn't know, only that the sun was half behind the mountains when I blinked and answered. “It's about the same, but it's a little easier to touch a kay or so downhill.”

   “That's not far. We'll camp somewhere around here. The Hamorians are about a half-day away, and they've stopped for the night.”

   “How...?”

   “Dayala-she can touch the trees and the life web better than I.” He looked at Weldein. “Anywhere around here. I'd suggest very small fires.”

   Weldein turned. “Over there, on the higher flat above the stream.”

   He'd picked ground with access to water and overlooking the road, which made sense if we were attacked, but I hoped it wouldn't come to that.

   Justen, Dayala, and I shared a small fire, and I used my single pot to heat some water for an herbal tea. One pot made three small cups, and I sipped mine slowly, trying to make it last.

   “Good,” admitted Justen.

   “Very good,” added Dayala.

   “Tomorrow,” began Justen. “Tomorrow, just try to think about skill, Lerris. Skill is using as little force-order or chaos-as possible to do the job.” His eyes flashed at me. “Do you understand why the minimal use of order, even in dealing with chaos, is better?”

   “Would I have aged less if I'd used less force?”

   “Probably. I wasn't there. I couldn't say for sure, but that's usually the case.”

   “What are we going to do?” I asked.

   Justen sighed. “Kill a lot of mostly innocent soldiers. For no good reason except that they'll kill even more people if they're not killed.”

   “I hate to say this,” I said slowly. “But if we just let them take Kyphros, wouldn't fewer people die?”

   “No,” said Justen bleakly. “That isn't the point of any of this. It wouldn't make sense. If we stepped aside, Kyphros would fall, and at least the autarch and the Finest and the outliers would mostly be killed, because they defied Hamor. Then, more armies and ships would arrive, and Gallos would fall. Then Spidlar. Then Suthya and Sarronnyn. After that, Recluce, and then Naclos. But I don't think this invasion really is designed to succeed.”

   “What?”

   “Emperor Stesten can't lose. He's only got perhaps ten thousand troops here and thirty-odd ships. That sounds like a lot, but Hamor has a fleet of close to five hundred steel warships and almost a hundred thousand trained troops, maybe more. That sort of equipment gives some credence to his claim to be Regent of the Gates of the Oceans.”

   I was lost. Ten thousand troops still sounded like a lot.

   “If this Marshal Dyrsse wins for Emperor Stesten with these forces, then he's in that much stronger a position. If not, the Emperor can use the defeat to demonstrate the need to destroy Recluce-because only wizardry will have stopped Hamor.”

   “I don't understand. What has Recluce done to Hamor?”

   “Outside of ensuring its traders don't monopolize trade in the Eastern Ocean? Outside of exiling the Emperor's grandfather? Outside of destroying almost a score of warships? Outside of killing two regents and a fleet commander? Outside of humiliating Hamor for over a thousand years?” Justen paused to sip more tea. “I'm sure I could think of a few more reasons, if you need them.”

   “But why does he need a defeat? Isn't that throwing away troops and ships?”

   Justen looked at me, and his eyes almost glowed. “Is it? There's no one on Recluce who can match Gunnar and me, except maybe Elisabet, and we're ancient. That leaves you and Tamra. And we're all here in Candar. How many more battles like that business in the mountains can you take, Lerris?”

   I swallowed. “You mean, this whole thing is to wear us down?”

   “I wouldn't say that it's the whole thing, but this has been well thought out. How much of Candar does Hamor control right now?”

   “Freetown, Sligo, Montgren, Certis, Hydlen-that's the whole east-and Delapra and half of Southwind, from what I hear.”

   “So... with less than ten percent of his forces, the Emperor already controls over a third of Candar?”

   “I guess so.” I hadn't thought of it quite that way.

   “Recluce has lost two of its three invisible ships, and only replaced one. Its trade has been blocked...” Justen went on, quietly detailing how bad things were, and I had to believe him. At the same time, I was asking how Recluce had let things get so bad. Was it just because Recluce had turned its back on machines? Or had the nature of the Balance changed? Or had Hamor changed it, and what did that show? I shivered.

   “... most people don't understand that Recluce has a lot of people who can use order to some degree, but only a relative handful can concentrate it. There might be another ten on Recluce with your skills, but half have probably never discovered their abilities, and the Brotherhood has always been content to leave it that way because it made governing easier. Now, the Council is paying for that ease.”

   “Why?” I was still asking why.

   “Look at how much change you and Tamra and Krystal have created. Change isn't something that sets well with people, especially people with coins or position. Change is a threat to both, and order-mastery usually leads to change.”

   I pondered his words.

   “And that's been the appeal of Hamor-or Fairhaven. Everything is predictable. People like that. Hamor doesn't like change, unless it controls the change, and emperors don't liked being thwarted.” He paused. “Do you see?” he finally asked.

   I nodded.

   “Good. Because I don't. All this is still stupid on Emperor Stesten's part, but that's what is happening.” He shook his head. “Brew some more of that tea, will you?”

   I got up and walked down to the stream, where I refilled the pot.

   A figure stepped out of the shadows-Berli.

   “Good evening, Master Lerris.”

   “Good evening, Berli.”

   “What will happen tomorrow?” she asked.

   “A lot of sundevils will die-or we will,” I answered. “Or both.”

   She shivered. “That's not encouraging.”

   “Sorry. I'd rather not do any dying, if that helps.”

   “Early?” she asked.

   “I'd say not before midday, maybe not until mid-afternoon.”

   “That makes for a long day, ser.”

   “Yes.” And a long night, I thought to myself as I walked back up and added the tea to the pot before swinging it over the fire.

   The night wasn't that long, because I was tired, and I slept, and I wasn't arguing with Krystal about being a hero or rehashing what I should have said, and the deep growling of chaos only woke me twice.

   We had herbal tea and cheese and travel bread for breakfast, and Dayala shared some dried fruits of a type I'd never had.

   Then Justen, Weldein, Dayala, and I walked down the road, and Justen stopped and studied everything. We walked down almost three kays, and then back.