The Death of Chaos

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Neither one of us said anything as we walked through the trees. There was a cleared spot at the top of the hill, and we looked down at the house, the attached shop, and the stable and shed. A line of smoke rose from the kitchen chimney, and I could smell the wood burning. The pile of new-sawn wood was stacked by the shed, and a smaller pile of partly split stove wood was heaped by the back door. I grinned, recalling Rissa’s efforts to get me to saw it.

  Krystal squeezed my hand.

  “Lerris… you don’t have to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “You know. You always act dense when it’s difficult for you. I meant leading Yelena’s force to the white wizard.”

  I squeezed her hand in return, but I kept looking down at the house. I hadn’t quite thought of it as leading Yelena’s force. “You’ll be right behind me.”

  “That’s not answering the question. You still won’t admit it if you are worried or if you need help. Don’t make me guess how you feel. Not now.”

  “Krystal.” I paused. “We don’t have any choices. You’re the commander, and being who you are, you won’t command from Kyphrien. That means the Hydlenese will throw rockets at you-unless someone stops them. Or diverts them.”

  “Yelena could go without you,” she said quietly.

  “She could, and a lot of troopers could get killed.”

  “They will anyway.”

  “You risk your life a lot, and I craft wood most of the time these days.”

  “No. I don’t risk my life very often, not any more. I’d rather not.”

  I could sense the smile, and I gave her hand a squeeze. She returned the pressure, and we looked at the violet sky turning black, and the stars flickering into tiny lamps.

  “Lerris…”

  Krystal was quietly determined, another reason why I loved her, and she wanted an answer, not an evasion. Evasions were sometimes easier for me, and she knew that.

  “I don’t like it. Gerlis is stronger than Antonin was. He’s got those rockets, and he’s a lot smarter.”

  “Because he’s surrounded himself with an army?”

  I nodded. “He’s not as arrogant, I don’t think, and he dug up the idea of the rockets from somewhere. Or Duke Berfir did. I wonder if they’ve found out something else as well.”

  Krystal put an arm around me, and I put one around her as we looked out toward Kyphrien.

  “You didn’t say much to Kasee…”

  I tried not to shrug. “What could I say? If you have to lead the forces against rockets, and I sit here because I’m no soldier, how will I feel if anything happens to you?”

  Another silence fell.

  “How will I feel if you die doing my job?” she asked.

  “What I have to do isn’t exactly your job. And it is your job to use what you have to,” I said slowly. “Kasee was right. We just can’t let things happen. Things always get worse. The thing that bothers me the most is not being with you.”

  “It bothers me. A lot.”

  It bothered me a lot, too. How I felt about separations was strange. Once I’d wandered all over Candar without her, without even knowing that I missed her, and now I disliked every small separation.

  “I said it bothers me, and it does. But it won’t go away, either. What you’ve planned makes the most sense, but I don’t have to like it.”

  “Thank you.” Her voice was soft, and she put both arms around me, and we held each other.

  XXVII

  East of Lavah, Sligo [Candar]

  THE MAN IN the cyan sash looks at the drawings on the sheets before him. “How will this help us against the red demon? Or to reclaim our heritage in the Ohyde Valley?”

  “Knowledge is always helpful, Ser Begnula.” The man in brown smiles and his eyes turn to the window, where the season’s first snowflakes drift lazily by the glass. “I offer knowledge. You and your master can use that knowledge or not.”

  “And who will you offer it to, if we do not? The red demon?”

  “Like everyone, I must eat, and knowledge is my trade.” Sammel offers a shrug as he turns away from the window.

  “A chaos wizard like one who serves the red demon could explode the powder with one firebolt.” Begnula licks his lips nervously. “For this, you expect golds?”

  “If you keep the powder in the iron magazines and load the guns right from the magazines, nothing will happen. That is how the black folk have handled powder for centuries.”

  “You are sure this will work?”

  “How else has Recluce ruled the seas?” The man in brown nods.

  “Still, the Duke could not afford…” Begnula’s voice turns reluctant.

  “I would suggest that your master talk to the envoy from Hamor, assuming you have not already. The Emperor would be more than interested in developing new weapons for his campaigns. ”

  “And seeing them tested, no doubt, far from Hamor?”

  “There is that. But you asked for a weapon to counter the chaos wizard. These will do that. You can even cast hollow shells filled with powder and use them. Or thinner shells filled with smaller lead pellets.”

  “They are the demons’ weapons.”

  “That may be, but you are fighting a demon, you say.”

  “You serve both chaos and order. How can that be?” asks Begnula suddenly.

  “Knowledge serves no one. Knowledge rules both order and chaos.” Sammel smiles. “Whoever controls knowledge controls order and chaos. I offer your master knowledge. He may use it as he pleases.”

  Begnula rolls the sheets into his dispatch case, then takes his purse and pulls three golds from it. He places the coins carefully on the edge of the table. “I trust…”

  “As you see fit. Ser Begnula.”

  Begnula looks at Sammel and adds another gold.

  “Thank you. I am always happy to provide knowledge.”

  The functionary of the Duke bows. “Good day, ser wizard.”

  “Good day.”

  Sammel crosses the room and opens the door.

  Begnula bows again after he leaves the cottage.

  The wizard smiles as the other man mounts and wipes his forehead before chucking the reins of the gray gelding. Then he closes the door.

  Sammel walks over to the hearth, where he places another log upon the coals, and then another. He straightens and frowns, his eyes glazing over as if he listens to a distant conversation.

  He takes the glass that had been upon the table and crosses the room, where he sets it on the floor in the corner. He purses his lips and stares. A fountain of unseen chaos flows from the glass, then ebbs, then flows…

  Sammel concentrates once more, and the glass appears to vanish, but a wavering curtain of mist or heat appears in the corner.

  With a faint smile, Sammel walks back to the hearth. After a time, he wipes his damp forehead and waits. Abruptly, he vanishes from sight, and the cottage appears empty, low flames from the coals in the hearth the only motion.

  The faintest of scrapes whispers from beyond the closed front door.

  . The door bursts open, but no one enters.

  For a long moment, the door wavers in the wind, and the hearth coals flame up in the breeze that sweeps into the cottage. Whhhst! Whhhsttt! Two small rockets burst in the corner, sending up a sheet of flame.

  Hhhsstt! Hssttt! The firebolts slash from the unseen figure that stands before the stones of the hearth, and two charred figures fall through the doorway.

  The flames begin to rise in the corner, then twist and die amid the shards of glass.

  The wind gusts through the open door, and the door bangs against the wall, then slams back against one of the bodies, then crashes against the wall again.

  Sammel reappears before the hearth and wipes his forehead on his sleeve. Then he crosses the cottage and studies the two black-clad bodies. Both clutch stubby weapons that look like tubes atop rifle stocks. More standard blades lie tangled in burned trousers and legs.

  The wizard lifts one t
ube weapon by the wooden stock and sets it on the table. Then he concentrates once more, and the bodies turn to white ashes, as do the blades and the remaining tube weapon. He turns toward the corner of the cottage, and the blackened wood and darkened rough plaster flake away, leaving the wall apparently untouched. Sammel looks at the blackened floor planks and a thin layer of ash appears over now - unburned wood.

  With a deep breath, the white wizard closes the front door before he walks to the single closet in the cottage where he extracts a willow broom. He begins to sweep all the ashes toward the hearth.

  “Mere black iron will not prevail against knowledge…” He shakes his head, but he looks first at the weapon on the table and then toward the east, and he frowns.

  After he finishes sweeping, he replaces the broom, then draws back the cloth covering the bookcase and looks for a time at the volumes. He reaches out to touch one, then draws back his hand. “To come to this, where each touch shortens your life, dear volumes…”

  XXVIII

  “IF ANYONE COMES, Rissa, tell them that I won’t be back for at least three eight-days. I’m under the autarch’s command.” I kept strapping my bedroll and waterproof behind the saddle. My saddlebags had a lot more dried fruit than on the last trip-a lot more food, and no tools.

  “You just got back from one o‘ those, Master Lerris, and here you go again. No way for a craftmaster to work.” Rissa held the lamp in one hand. The other hand was on her hip. “What’s a body supposed to do if you don’t come back and the commander doesn’t?”

  “Then, you’re free to do as you like.” I finished strapping the bedroll in place and set the staff in the lanceholder.

  “Master Lerris, you joke about those things too easily.”

  “What else can I do?” I took a deep breath. “I didn’t exactly volunteer to be a soldier or a soldier’s wizard.”

  Rissa shook her head, and she was right. I had volunteered. Was I a fool, knowing that Krystal could die if I didn’t help? Or was I deluded? Krystal was the professional soldier, not me, and maybe it was more likely I’d be the one doing the dying. I tried not to shiver at that.

  We both worried about each other. Was that love? Did order or chaos really care about love? I knew the answer to that one, not that I liked it.

  My stomach tightened as I realized I had answered- maybe-one of my own questions about my father. If order did not care about love, then had he had any choice? That bothered me. Could I do what I felt was right, whether it was orderly or not?

  With no pleasing answers in mind, I led Gairloch out of the stable and into the yard, still before dawn, and barely light. A chill blustery wind whistled out of the west, bringing the icy chill of the Westhorns, and whipping through my hair. I felt in my belt for the knitted cap. I didn’t like to wear it, but I wouldn’t freeze my ears either, not if it got that cold. But, thankfully, I didn’t need it yet.

  I patted Gairloch and climbed into the saddle.

  “Wizards…” mumbled Rissa.

  I looked down and realized she was holding back tears.

  “We’ll be back, Rissa. Make sure everything’s in good condition for us to come back to.” I bent down in the saddle, awkwardly, and touched her shoulder, letting a bit of order flow into her.

  She started to sob, and I understood once more how much I didn’t understand. I patted her shoulder again, but she only sobbed more. “Just… you… be going… Master… Lerris… be… all right… here…”

  Finally, I nudged Gairloch toward the road, and toward Kyphrien and the barracks of the Finest, where I was to meet Yelena. Krystal had left even earlier, but neither of us had wanted to give up the last night together.

  The sky had a few high and puffy clouds moving eastward quickly, and that probably meant a long bright day that would be cold indeed.

  The road to Kyphrien was untraveled. Most of the streets there were deserted in the dawn light, and even the market square was almost empty, except for two women who carried buckets of water up the stone-paved avenue. I saw the flickering of a handful of lamps, and smelled wood smoke from the chimneys.

  Weldein was waiting for me by the gate to the Finest’s barracks.

  “The others are at the outliers’ barracks toward the eastern gates, Order-master.”

  “Am I late?”

  “No, ser. The force leader left to ensure the outliers would be ready.”

  I rode through the eastern section of Kyphrien, down the lower avenue, without saying much. I would have liked to have ridden with Krystal, but, as a practical matter, moving all the forces at once through places like Dasir and Jikoya would have put too great a strain on the local facilities. So Krystal and the main forces would follow a day later.

  I hurried along to meet up with recently promoted Force Leader Yelena and three squads of the Finest and two squads of outliers-one of them Tellurians, the other Meltosians.

  The sun had barely edged over the horizon when I reined up Gairloch in the yard in front of the outliers’ barracks. A number of the outliers were still strapping packs and bags on their mounts.

  Yelena was mounted, talking to the squad leaders, who had circled their horses around her.

  “There he is! See… there is the wizard, the one with the invisible sack.”

  The voice was familiar, and I didn’t quite groan. Instead, I eased Gairloch toward the Tellurians. Shervan-the very first outlier I had met when I came to Kyphros, the one who still told of my “magic sack”-waved from the third row. The squad leader looked at me.

  I doubt that I looked very impressive, not in browns and carrying only a staff.

  “Greetings, Shervan.” I nodded to the man mounted beside him. “It’s good to see you, too, Pendril.”

  The squad leader edged his mount toward me and away from Yelena. His eyes flicked between me and Yelena. For some reason, Yelena was smiling.

  “This will be an adventure, following the wizard. Did I not tell you, Pendril?”

  Pendril grunted, and I approved.

  “And wait until I tell Barrabra…”

  “Shervan,” I said clearly, “first we have to go where we are going, and then we have to come back. You cannot tell anyone unless you come back. The more attention you pay to your squad leader, the better your chance to come back. He is a fighter. I am a wizard.” I saluted him and turned Gairloch back toward Yelena and Weldein, nodding to the squad leader as Gairloch carried me past him.

  “… see. I told you he was a wizard, and a smart one…”

  “Shervan, be quiet-for once,” said Pendril in a tired voice that carried. “Or what I have to say to Barrabra will make what the wizard said sound like love talk.”

  I grinned, but I could do that since I was looking toward Yelena.

  “Listen up,” snapped the Tellurian outliers’ squad leader, a stocky man with a brush mustache.

  I reined Gairloch up beside Yelena.

  “Not bad. What made you think of that?” asked Yelena.

  “I don’t know, except it sounded like Shervan would be blabbing about how he knows me all the way to Hydlen. That wouldn’t help him or his squad leader.”

  “You might actually make an officer someday.”

  I doubted that. I just let Gairloch keep pace with Yelena and her staff as we headed out in the dawn over the east road toward Dasir and Jikoya and, unfortunately, toward Hydlen and one white wizard.

  XXIX

  BEHIND GAIRLOCH, I could hear the sounds of hoofs, harnesses, and the occasional clink of metal on metal. I felt like someone was looking at me, but my senses didn’t feel anything like chaos, and I hadn’t seen any vulcrows. I turned in the saddle, surveying the rocky walls, the stunted cedars, and the narrow ribbon of water to the right of the road. Nothing.

  I looked up, but the sky remained misty, with flat gray clouds hanging over the Lower Easthorns. Nothing flew in the misty drizzle, not even a vulcrow.

  My gloved fingers brushed the wood of the staff, but it remained merely wood bound in iron.
I wiped the dampness off my forehead with the back of my glove.

  Now less than a day behind us, but too far behind for me to hear or sense, followed Krystal and the larger force. I hoped that they stayed far behind-far enough behind that the wizard looked for us-even though that wasn’t exactly Krystal’s or Kasee’s plan.

  “How far before we get to this turnoff?” I asked.

  Yelena turned in the saddle. “We’ll stop here. Let them water their mounts.”

  “Hold up! Stand down…”

  “Water your mounts by squads…”

  “… leave the upper part for drinking…”

  The quiet commands still echoed through the dampness and the grayish mist. Almost-freezing mist was worse than snow in some ways. I never got quite warm, and with my order-control I couldn’t quite complain about freezing, even to myself.

  In the middle of the mist that wasn’t quite a drizzle, Yelena spread the rough map on the boulder. “Here is where we are. It’s about ten kays up this road from where we entered the Khersis Gorge. If we followed the river, we’d end up at the pass here, and then it’s only a few days down to the brimstone springs. We could save some time if we take the cutoff just below the pass rather than the earlier one up ahead.”

  “Is that a good idea?” I asked.

  “That’s closer to where the springs are.”

  “That’s also closer to where Gerlis is, and he’s bound to be waiting for some sort of response to incinerating the commander of Kyphros. I would be. He hasn’t shown much respect for boundaries so far.”

  “But…” Weldein started to speak, then stopped as both Yelena and I looked at him.

  Since riding up the direct road to the valley in which the spring lay was as good as blowing on a loud trumpet to announce our arrival, we were looking for the side road that I had taken on my way back that would provide us with a more roundabout approach.

  I studied the map, looking for the trail. It didn’t look that far ahead on the gorge road. “We take this trail to this pass here, under these-”