The Death of Chaos

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “Take that, sundevils!” Berfir smiles, and his hand strays toward the hilt of the big blade he still wears in the shoulder harness.

  Now the shells walk toward the Hydlenese rocket batteries, even as more rockets impact uselessly on and around the earthworks that protect the two Hamorian batteries.

  Crumpt! Crumpt!

  The big shells drop inexorably closer and closer to the Hydlenese rocket launchers until they finally strike the emplacement. Soil, rag-doll figures, dirt, and smoke erupt into the sky. Then, fire, sparks, and smaller explosions wash across the left side of the Hydlenese lines.

  The Duke sprints toward the carnage, ignoring the still-falling shells, his blade out for emphasis as he bellows orders. “Re-form with the right battery. Re-form at the right!”

  Soldiers stagger past him, blank-faced.

  Berfir thwacks one-not a solid Yeannotan, thank darkness-with the flat of the big sword. “Re-form with the right battery! Now!”

  The soldier reaches for his own empty scabbard before his eyes refocus on the tall Duke. “Ah… yes, ser. Yes, ser!”

  Slowly, the serjeants repeat the refrain, as the two remaining rocket officers and a handful of soldiers trudge southward behind the remaining earthworks toward the heavier earthworks of the right rocket battery.

  The Hamorian guns continue to boom, and the shells scream downward, creating a zigzag pattern of craters across the front of the Hydlenese earthworks, as the shells walk back toward the other rocket battery.

  With the impacts, more dust drifts across the Hydlenese lines.

  Berfir turns and walks back from the turned soil and torn bodies of the left rocket emplacement to the command revetment, ignoring the handful of officers who await him. He looks down at the big sword, helplessly, and then resheathes it. He walks to the crude slit embrasure in the earthworks.

  The plumes of smoke from the distant hillside drift across the churned ground of the field, across the abandoned cottage and the shattered remnants of a small barn.

  “Ser?” The words rasp from the officer in red, his uniform coated in dust, who stumbles up to the Duke. “The scouts report… they’re bringing up another battery of the guns.”

  “When will they be in place?” asks Berfir tiredly.

  “Probably not until late today, maybe early tomorrow.”

  “Should we pull back now, or wait for darkness?” Berfir blots the dirt and sweat off his forehead with the forearm of his left sleeve.

  “Ser… if you wait much longer…”

  “I know… I won’t have any troops left.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  “Sound the retreat. Try and keep them on the river road. I’d like to have some forces left by the time we reach Hydolar.”

  “Hydolar?” asks the officer.

  “You think we can defend Renklaar with all those ships they brought to Freetown?”

  “Hydolar?” repeats the officer. “That means we’re giving them the Ohyde Valley?”

  “Hydolar-unless you can find a way to lead a successful charge against their guns and rifles.” Berfir looks back through the slit. The shell explosions continue their slow walk across the hillside.

  LXXIII

  EARLY SUMMER HAD struck Kyphros like a hammer, the sun burning through the blue-green sky and searing the land into stunted grasses and dusty roads. In the midst of the heat and dry winds, Durrik had collected his spice chest. I had collected the hinges from Merrin in time to finish both the dowry chest and the travel chests for Preltar and collect his proffered bonus.

  Zeiber had even accepted his case and offered a gold bonus. I’d reluctantly deferred. There was no way I could take a bonus from Zeiber. He’d even looked pleased at the case, touching it and shaking his head.

  After that, Wegel and I had completed and sold four more travel chests. I was even getting close to finishing Antona’s desk, and Wegel had placed a few small carvings with Jahunt, but the peddler was having trouble selling much of anything. That was what he told us, anyway.

  Wegel was sweeping up the shop in the late afternoon while I was racking and organizing fir lengths for another travel chest when Krystal rode back into the yard, leaving a trail of dust that hung in the air for kays, turning almost pink in the twilight.

  Braaawkkkk… brawkkk… Two of the hens pecked away at the hard, cracked ground around the side of the henhouse.

  “No chickens?” Krystal brushed road dust from her leathers even before she swung down from the saddle. I shrugged. “Rissa was persuasive.”

  “Ah, no, Commander. Only when Brene would sell no chickens, only when she was ready to pack up her house and leave to visit Tyglit, only then would Master Lerris consent to the chickens. And now-now we have chicks that will be dinners before fall, and now we have eggs, plenty of eggs.”

  The cock announced his presence from the rail near the henhouse.

  “And too much crowing,” I said.

  Krystal laughed, but I could see the lines around her eyes, the additional silver hair, and the looseness of her leathers. “Do we get chicken tonight?” asked Perron. “You would have chicken tonight if Master Lerris had seen fit to buy the chickens earlier.” Rissa went back into the kitchen.

  Krystal and I walked across the yard to the open stable doors, leading her mount.

  “You’re staying here, I hope?”

  “There’s really nowhere else to stay. Only one wing of the barracks is open, and that’s to support Liessa.”

  “Showing the flag?”

  Krystal nodded. “The heir stays here to reassure the people, but any attack will come at Ruzor.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  She nodded, but said nothing, and I got the message. It was bad enough that she didn’t even want to talk in front of her personal guard.

  I got out the curry brush. “Durrik picked up his spice chest, and Preltar paid for his dowry chest and a couple of others. Zeiber offered a bonus, but that I turned down.”

  “It sounds as though you’ve done well.” Krystal loosened the girth and removed and racked the saddle. “You were right about Zeiber.”

  “We haven’t done badly for a while. Wegel’s sold some carved pieces through Jahunt.”

  “Jahunt?”

  “The peddler. He used to sell stuff for Ginstal, except Ginstal moved back to Hrisbarg. Jahunt said he was a master miner years back.”

  “They closed the mines before I was born,” said Jinsa from the middle of the stable.

  “Before I was born, and that’s something,”, added Dercas. “What be for dinner?”

  “Food? Finish grooming that nag, and clean up before you worry about food,” advised Perron. “There’s always good food here. There’s even enough for the rest of us after you eat.”

  Jinsa snickered.

  “Man has to know the important things. Good food, good mounts, and Barrel’s no nag.”

  “Enough,” said Perron quietly.

  Haithen unsaddled her mount without a word, and I could sense her discomfort from halfway across the stable, mirroring Krystal’s. How women put up with it, I didn’t know, but I was more than glad I didn’t have to endure the pain and discomfort firsthand. Secondhand and removed was disconcerting enough, especially with two of them in the same state.

  After I finished currying the gelding, I stepped behind Krystal and rubbed her back, especially the lower part.

  “That feels good.”

  “Good.”

  Rissa had a mutton curry dish with noodles and bread steaming on the table almost as soon as Krystal and I were washed up.

  “Good stuff!” Dercas licked his lips.

  Jinsa glared at the other trooper.

  “Please sit down,” said Krystal.

  I sat and served her, then me, and passed the noodles to Wegel, then dished out the mutton and sauce. Wegel took a substantial helping, just short of being too large. Dercas did the same.

  “It would be nice if you men left some,” said Haithen, her voice sharp.
>
  I looked at my plate.

  “I don’t mean you, Master Lerris.”

  “You’d better not be,” added Rissa, “since he’s the one providing the table.” She set down a second loaf of bread in a basket.

  For a moment, no one said a word.

  “I like being here better than in Ruzor.” Jinsa brushed her short hair back off her forehead.

  “Doesn’t the sea make it cooler?” I asked.

  “Not that much, and it’s damp. You sweat, and you’re never dry, and pretty soon everything smells like mold unless you wash it all the time, and if you do nothing really ever gets dry.” She shuddered.

  “Beautiful Ruzor by the sea,” added Krystal. “Keeping supplies and food from spoiling is one of Yelena’s biggest problems. Besides getting them.”

  “How is she doing?” I broke off a corner of bread and passed the basket to Wegel, who took a much smaller chunk, after a quick glance at Haithen.

  “ Yelena? Like the rest of us, she has too much to do and too little time to do it. I think she misses being in the field. She’s spending what little free time she has practicing.”

  “That’s probably what I should be doing.” I’d done some, but I still felt rusty, especially without Tamra to keep me on my toes.

  “You two… all this talk of weapons practice and preparation. Many seasons will pass before any Empire takes Kyphros, for that is what the Book of Ryba has said, that no man will take Kyphros.” Rissa stopped abruptly as Perron looked at her.

  “Prophecies are only as good as those who enforce them.” That was the lanky soldier’s only comment.

  “We’re pretty good, then,” barked Dercas.

  “At eating, anyway,” added Jinsa.

  Neither Krystal nor I added much to that, and, after dinner, we retreated to the bedroom, where I helped her pull off her boots and rubbed her back.

  “Does that help?”

  “You know it does. You just want me to tell you.” Her voice was muffled because she lay facedown.

  “We men need to hear we’re appreciated.”

  She rolled over and threw a mock punch at me, mock enough that I managed to duck. If she’d been serious, I would have been nursing a bruise somewhere.

  “Careful… I’m a fragile man.”

  “Fragile? Ha! I’ve roasted meat less than that wizard roasted you. Don’t tell me you’re fragile.” She grinned, momentarily, before her eyes focused a thousand kays away.

  After a long silence, I asked, “How are you doing? You seem kays away.”

  “This preparing for the coming of the Hamorians… it seems endless.”

  “I wonder if it’s not more like the coming of the demons.”

  Krystal raised her eyebrows, then stretched out on the bed on her back. “Darkness, this feels good, almost as good as having my back rubbed. What did you mean about the coming of the demons?”

  “There’s a lot of chaos rising, all over Candar. Preltar bought traveling chests, and didn’t even quibble over the prices, and he’s the type that quibbles over everything. Brene-Rissa told you about her. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing’s going to happen that soon.”

  She shook her head. “It has. The Brotherhood assassinated the first regent-Rignelgio, not Leithrrse. They’ve also sunk at least three Hamorian cruisers, iron-clad or not, and one of them had the Hamorian fleet commander on board. Leithrrse has taken command of everything, and he seems to know what he’s doing. Renklaar just fell, and supposedly the harbor waters were as red as the banner of Hydlen. The Hamorians landed another five thousand troops in Freetown, and they’re marching on Hydolar. Montgren has surrendered to the Emperor’s regent, and the Viscount of Certis has sent out notices for all his levies.”

  “That’s worse than I thought.” I’d been thinking more in terms of chaos, but the physical impact of the Empire was something again.

  “It will get worse.”

  “Has Leithrrse sent any messages to Kasee?”

  Krystal shook her head.

  I waited, then added, “I think the brimstone spring exploded two or three eight-days ago. The impact of the chaos woke me up.”

  “Kasee got a report that about half of Arastia was destroyed by the fires and steam. The river’s still steaming.”

  “I can still hear the chaos groaning.”

  “Can you do anything about it, Lerris?”

  “I don’t know what. Too much chaos really means too much order.”

  “Too much order? There can’t be that much order in Recluce.”

  “It’s not all coming from Recluce. I got a letter from my parents.”

  “You did? I’m glad you wrote them.” She grinned. “Tamra would be, too. I haven’t heard from either Justen or Tamra. Have you?” She shook her head. “I’m tired, and I’m not thinking too clearly. What did your parents say?”

  “My mother did the writing, but she said my father said the Balance worked both ways. It seemed odd at first.”

  “That does seem odd.”

  “But I figured it out. Recluce limited the amount of order in both Candar and in Recluce to limit the amount of chaos. Hamor is using tools and machines to create order…”

  “And that creates more chaos?”

  “I think so.”

  “Darkness help us all.” Her eyes refocused in the distance, and I held her hand for a time, leaving her in her thoughts.

  Then, when she was almost asleep, I helped her undress. Through the night, I held my commander close, and I could almost ignore the deep groanings of chaos surging beneath Candar-almost.

  LXXIV

  East of Lavah, Sligo [Candar]

  THE MAN IN the tan uniform knocks three times at the cottage door. Behind him, surrounding the small cottage, and creating a blanket of dust that seems to flow downhill toward Lavah, two horses wait with empty saddles and nearly fivescore mounted troopers.

  “Honored Mage?” Leithrrse says as Sammel appears and opens the door.

  “It’s you again. What might you want this time? To offer me the position of the Emperor of Knowledge of Hamor?” Sammel wipes his forehead and steps out into the glare of the sun. Then, he squints and retreats into the dimmer space of the cottage. “Come on in. No sense in discussing things in front of the world. They’ll find out soon enough.”

  Leithrrse follows the white wizard inside. He blots his forehead with a cloth. Despite its open windows, the cottage is warm in the midday heat.

  “Actually, I was going to appeal to you to help us reclaim some lost knowledge.” Leithrrse bows again.

  “Exactly what lost knowledge? Why are there so many troops out in the yard? And don’t bow so much. That’s false humility, and it doesn’t go with an envoy from Hamor. I doubt there’s much humility there.”

  “Perhaps not. All of this”-Leithrrse gestures toward the tan-clad troopers-“is somewhat tied together. As you may have heard, a Recluce assassin killed Regent Rignelgio. Likewise, the invisible warships of Recluce have sunk a small number of our ships. Unfortunately, Fleet Commander Kuliorrse was aboard one of them. So, for the moment, I am more man a mere envoy, a situation that the Emperor will doubtless rectify shortly. But for the moment-”

  “For the moment,” chuckles Sammel, “you personally would prefer that the Hamorian leadership in Candar not be further decimated. Clearly, I am being even more honored than upon your last visit.” He offers a slightly exaggerated bow. “And what is this ‘knowledge,’ and how might I possibly be of assistance to your mightiness? Or to His even more Supreme Mightiness the Emperor?”

  “The Emperor is mighty…” begins Leithrrse, then shakes his head. “You are getting impudent, Mage.”

  “You are getting more desperate, Honored Envoy. The knowledge you would like me to recover?”

  “Once there were great highways all the way from Freetown to Frven and from thence through the Easthorns. We believe we can locate those highways, and would like to restore them, by removing obstacles, and then use them.”

>   “With your armies leading the way, no doubt.” Sammel blots his forehead again.

  “Unfortunately, we have neither scholars nor engineers at hand.”

  “And you’re getting tired of dealing with Recluce on the ocean… so you figure you’ll suffer fewer losses on land.”

  The envoy waits. His eyes flick to the rocket gun on the wall, and his lips twist.

  “And what will you do if I say no?”

  “At this point… nothing.”

  “That sounds suspiciously like a threat.”

  “The Emperor remembers friends.” Leithrrse shrugs. “He also remembers others.”

  Sammel strokes his chin. “Well… restoring roads. That is a form of knowledge.” His eyes follow the envoy’s to the rocket gun, then drop back to Leithrrse. “Last time you mentioned remuneration. What did you have in mind?”

  “I left a token upon my departure. It was only a token, and the head librarian’s position remains open. In addition, traveling with an army might be somewhat… healthier… these days,” points out Leithrrse.

  “So long as the other was but a token.” Sammel laughs and wipes his forehead. “And the Easthorns are definitely cooler now.”

  “I did take the liberty of bringing a mount, in case you had none.”

  Sammel smiles wryly. “Let me gather a few things before we start on this quest for knowledge. And you can gather up the latest ‘token.’ ”

  “Of course.” Leithrrse nods. “Of course.”

  LXXV

  “WHAT ARE YOU doing today?” As I glanced toward Krystal, I lifted the mug of redberry, early redberry, and expensive, but I was tired of water and had broken down and bought a keg of the juice. I’d also, to be fair, bought a keg of light ale for Krystal, although she only would drink that at night.

  The remnant of a gust of wind, hot and bearing dust, sifted through the open door. Rissa closed it with a thud. “Leaving the door open… we lose all the cool of the night too soon.”

  “I’m sorry.” Then I looked up. Why was I sorry? I hadn’t been the one who left the door open. It had been one of Krystal’s guards, going out to saddle up and get ready for the ride to Kyphrien. Or maybe it had been Wegel. “What are you doing?” I asked again.