The Death of Chaos

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “That seems to be settled,” Kasee observed dryly. “Lerris will attempt to use his skills to force the Hamorians to fight their way through Gallos first, and we hope that he can.”

  I looked at her. “It’s that bad?”

  “It’s worse. Leithrrse just got another five thousand troops, and more of those rifles for his Candarian allies. Right now, with levies, we could raise perhaps eight thousand against a force that could be three times that, and we’d have to fight with swords and arrows. There’s not a crafter in Kyphros that could forge either their cannon or their rifles. We’ve managed to buy from smugglers-and others-threescore of the rifles and less than a thousand cartridges.” The autarch took a deep swallow from her mug.

  “Geography helps us here,” Krystal added. “The main channel into Ruzor is long and narrow. That means they can’t bring many of their ships into range of the walls at any one time, at least not more than a half score, and rifles don’t help that much against thick stone walls. Ruzor’s not like Renklaar or Worrak where a lot of deep water runs close to shore.”

  I hoped that meant that Krystal and Kasee could hold Ruzor, at least for a time, and that would make Hamor’s efforts in Gallos difficult. That assumed that one Lerris could keep the wizards’ roads blocked.

  “Can you do it?” asked Kasee.

  “I won’t know if I don’t try. And I can’t try if I don’t get moving.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Hardly.”

  At least, we agreed on that. Even Kasee gave us a wan smile as we left the library.

  On the way back to Krystal’s room, under the dim light of scattered oil lamps, we didn’t even talk about not talking about the future.

  With her door closed behind us, and bolted, there were tears, and holding, and words meaningless to all but lovers facing desperate, and separate, battles. And, as I had come to expect, her pleas for me not to be a hero.

  In the end, we slept, but neither long nor well.

  LXXXIII

  The Black Holding, Land’s End [Recluce]

  “JELLICO HAS FALLEN.” Talryn walks into the meeting room of the Black Holding. He wipes his forehead. “So has Hydolar.”

  “So quickly?” Maris steps inside from the east-facing terrace and out of the faint summer breeze. “How did you find out?”

  “Nordlan traders.” The broad-shouldered magister picks up the pitcher in front of Heldra, sniffs it, and sets it down. He wrinkles his nose. “It doesn’t take that long when you have cannon throwing five-stone explosive shells and when the defenders are fighting with swords and arrows against those new rifles. Berfir’s dead, and Hydlen’s a mess. So is Certis.”

  “Cold steel seems to have lost its strength.” Heldra lifts an empty mug. “To the age of new order.” She pours ale from the pitcher into the mug.

  “You’ve been drinking.” Maris glares at her.

  “Can you think of anything better to do? Meeting this far from Nylan?”

  “We haven’t exactly lost yet,” observes Talryn. “The trio are still intact, and the Llyse is back on station. To date the three have managed to sink more than a half score of the Hamorian ships. The Brotherhood is close to completing another warship. ”

  “So glorious, so glorious…” Heldra hiccups. “Threescore warships… and we have destroyed ten.”

  “Twelve,” corrects Talryn. “And the Prefect of Certis may have lost Jellico-”

  “-and his life.”

  “-but that cost Hamor nearly five thousand casualties. Hydlen didn’t do so well. Hamor used more cannon there.”

  “Neither Kyphros nor Gallos can put up that kind of resistance.” Maris paces back and forth across the end of the table. “The last war bled them both dry.”

  “The fruits of our success!” Heldra thumps the mug on the ancient table. “The fruits of our success…”

  “Shut up, Heldra.”

  “Don’t tell me to shut up.” Her hand reaches for the blade. “Not so drunk I can’t carve you into dog meat.”

  Marts steps back. “That’s easy. Just chop me up. That won’t stop Hamor.”

  “Don’t tell me when to stop talking.”

  “Hamor is the problem,” interjects Talryn.

  “All right,” concedes Heldra. “Just keep this frigging trader civil.”

  “Heldra…” Talryn draws her name out like a threat.

  “All right, I said.”

  “Why don’t we ask Gunnar for ideas or help?” Mans paces to the east window and turns.

  “Him and his hidebound Institute? What help will they give? He’s the one who’s stopped the work on machines. Better we ask the Founders.” Heldra gestures toward the ancient blade on the wall. “It’s almost as hot as when they got here.”

  “Gunnar is still a great weather mage,” Talryn reflects.

  “Who hasn’t raised a storm in generations,” answers Heldra, lifting her mug and taking another swallow.

  “He might now,” points out Maris.

  “Might he now?” Heldra raises her mug. “Then here’s to the great storm wizard. To the great storm wizard.”

  LXXXIV

  EITHER KRYSTAL OR Kasee arranged for sweet rolls and hot cider to be sent to {Crystal’s room, and we sat beside each other at the small table, with the hot light of morning pouring through the window.

  Outside, the air was still, without even a hint of a breeze off the ocean or the bay, and the heat seemed to ooze into the room. Light bounced off the wall, glinting from the sand in the plaster.

  Krystal reached out and held my hands, saying nothing.

  Did I have to go? That wasn’t the question, and we both knew it. We could wait until things got worse, until the armies of Hamor were actually in Kyphros and I could do nothing.

  I shivered.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I wonder. I hope that I didn’t wait too long. Maybe I should have gone straight to the wizards’ roads.”

  “You didn’t know what was happening.”

  “I still don’t.”

  “Don’t worry about the timing, Lerris. Jellico hasn’t fallen yet… not that we’ve heard, and armies don’t move places overnight.”

  “Neither do I.”

  She raised her eyebrows, and I blushed.

  After a while, Krystal spoke in a low voice. “Lerris. I know what has to be done, but I don’t have to like it. First, there’s this Antonin, and you come back from your fight with him with bruises all over your body. Then, you have to take on this Gerlis, and you come back on a stretcher, with burns, and broken limbs, and you don’t even recognize anyone for days. You’re finally well and strong, and now there’s another chaos wizard who’s even stronger than the first two and he’s knocking down mountains to make way for an army to roll over Kyphros. I don’t know and you don’t know if you can stop him, but if you can’t, we don’t have the troops to.” Krystal looked at the faded and cracked inlay work on the table. “One of these days you won’t come back.”

  I looked at the table myself. What could I do?

  Hamor might impose order on Candar, order that the place needed badly, but that order would be clasped on the people like steel fetters, and the chaos beneath the rocks would flare- and each new chaos wizard would be stronger and that would allow greater order-and restrictions-to be created by Hamor.

  We couldn’t go back to Recluce. The Brotherhood wouldn’t take either one of us-not a lady blade like Krystal nor a gray earth wizard like me. We couldn’t surrender, not without being put to death or imprisoned, although I thought imprisonment was highly unlikely. Rulers are rather skeptical about whether anyone called a wizard will stay put.

  Yet, if we fought… how many more would die? How many more Shervans and Pendrils would there be? That was one reason why I really didn’t want to take many troopers with me.

  “I’ll be back.”

  “Lerris… please don’t be a hero, and you know what I mean.”

  I nodded and clasped Krystal�
��s hands again before I said, “I’d better get ready.”

  She nodded, and we stood and held each other.

  Outside, the sunlight and the heat built, and heat waves shimmered across Ruzor, promising only more heat through the long days ahead.

  LXXXV

  I SEEMED TO be moving more quickly up the road to Felsa than on my descent, but whether that was because of the escort or because I was committed to getting myself into more trouble was another question I wasn’t sure I really wanted to answer. The older I got, the more questions like that seemed to pop up.

  The sun was hot, and the road was dusty, with the red dust clinging to everything. Gairloch plodded along, keeping right up with the bigger mounts carrying Weldein, Berli, and Fregin.

  To the left, beyond the low wall on the edge of the road, the cliff dropped down to the narrow line of silver that was the Phroan River. Ahead, I could see the mist spilling out of the Gateway Gorge, just as it had only a few days before. The one thing about the burning summer heat of Kyphros was that there weren’t that many flies-and no mosquitoes, except near the rivers and ponds, and there weren’t that many of either.

  Weldein rode beside me, and he hadn’t said much. I had noticed that his once-long blond hair was shorter, much shorter, more military. Somehow, Weldein had also become more military, more focused. Perhaps the times were forcing that kind of change on all of us.

  He glanced at me, then up the road.

  “I know. It’s a fool’s errand.” I forced a grin at him. “But it’s a chance to get out of Ruzor and away from the bugs.”

  After a long moment, he grinned back. “You always know how to cheer a man, Master Lerris.”

  “Yes, me and my trusty staff.” I pulled it from the lanceholder and twirled it a bit. Then I put it back in the holder and shifted my weight in the saddle. When I did, I saw that Berli and Fregin had ridden up closer behind us, as if they wanted to hear the conversation.

  Wheeee… eeee…

  “I know it’s hot,” I muttered to Gairloch, “and it’s going to get hotter before we reach the Gorge.”

  “I’d forgotten how you talk to your pony.”

  “Why not? He doesn’t argue back, at least not much, and he goes where we have to.”

  “The pony carried him against-what-three wizards?” Weldein offered the statement to Berli and Fregin.

  Khhhcherwww… “Demon’s dust,” muttered Fregin.

  “Two, actually.” I rubbed my own nose to keep from sneezing. “I tied him up when I went into Antonin’s castle.”

  “You walked into a chaos wizard’s castle on foot?” asked Berli.

  “I know better now.” I shrugged.

  “Was that when you rescued the… the redheaded mage?” Weldein had a glint in his eye.

  “Yes. I wasn’t sure she was there, but I had to do something.” I wiped my forehead. Dry or not, I was still sweating.

  “What about the time you rescued Haithen? Didn’t you charge into a whole squad of Gallosians?”

  “Someone had to do something.” I didn’t mention that I hadn’t exactly meant to charge the white wizard. The idiot wouldn’t let me try to avoid him.

  Kkkchewww… Fregin sneezed again. “Wish you could do something about this friggin‘ dust.”

  Berli laughed for a moment, then said sweetly, “I take it, Weldein, that you are trying to let us know that Master Lerris is both more formidable and more dangerous than he looks?”

  “I’m not sure I’m all that dangerous, but being around me could be.”

  “I was at the brimstone spring,” said Berli.

  “What brimstone spring?” asked Fregin.

  Berli shook her head.

  Fregin sneezed once more. “… friggin‘ dust…”

  I wiped my forehead once more, hoping that it wouldn’t be too long before we reached the Gorge. Even a short period of mist and cool would be welcome.

  I tried not to think about the days and days ahead.

  LXXXVI

  DESPITE THE LOW clouds, the light wind out of the south was hot. Sweat dripped down the inside of Justen’s shirt, and his collar was dark with moisture. After wiping his forehead, he patted Rosefoot on the neck.

  Somewhat behind him, Tamra rode silently, her eyes partly glazed over, as though her mind or sense were elsewhere.

  A not-too-distant explosion echoed through the hills, then another, but the two continued to ride to the southwest, away from Jellico.

  In time, Justen reined up behind the wreckage of a mountain willow. The entire tree had been bent and smashed flat by the heavy limb of an oak that had fallen across the top of the willow. Where the trunk of the willow had bent was a mass of twisted and splintered wood.

  Justen looked up and studied the whitened section of the oak from where the branch had fallen, his eyes taking on a faraway cast.

  “What is it?” asked Tamra.

  “Cannon shell.”

  She glanced from the tree to Justen and back to the tree.

  Crummpptt Less than four hundred cubits below them, sod and scrub brush erupted into the sky.

  In the valley to the southeast, patches of smoke as thick as fog had begun to drift across the low hills and grasslands. At the east end of the valley, behind the handful of sunburst banners, the flashes of the cannon continued.

  Dirt and sod and grass spewed into the sky where the heavy shells from the Hamorian guns continued to explode just in front of the Certan troops, lying flat behind hastily dug embankments that offered no real protection against the explosions. Their green banners lay scattered, as if no one wished to raise one as a target for the deadly cannon.

  Justen pointed to the west and to the back side of the ridge. “We’ll need to circle around this and take the back trails. It will take more time.”

  “Won’t we run into more troops?” Tamra looked from the distant cannon to the scattered troops below. “They seem to be everywhere.”

  “Hamor doesn’t work that way. They take the roads, the cities, the trading points, and wait. Eventually, people give up. These troops didn’t take any of the main roads, and that’s a problem.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, but I’d bet that the Hamorians are rebuilding or clearing the old hidden roads of Fairhaven. I don’t see any other way how they got all these troops into Certis so quickly and unseen.”

  Justen rode for a while, then continued. “That gives us two other problems. Do you see?”

  “They’ll use the roads to take the middle of Candar, and the seas to take the ports?” asked the redhead.

  “That’s one,” pointed out Justen. “And with the ports in their hands and the roads, that doesn’t leave much.”

  “I can’t see the autarch giving up. Or Lerris.”

  “That’s going to be the second problem, especially if we don’t get to him.” Justen nudged Rosefoot away from Tamra and down the far side of the hill, away from the troops and the falling shells. “A real problem. Can you see why?”

  Tamra took a last look back at another geyser of soil and cloth fragments, then spurred her mount after Justen. “What could Lerris do to stop an army?”

  Justen did not answer, even when Tamra pulled her mount alongside his, though his face remained grim.

  “Why won’t you say? You’re hiding things again.”

  “How do you think Hamor is clearing the roads that quickly? Haven’t you heard the groaning in the earth?”

  “Chaos? And Lerris will try to stop it? Like he did in Hydlen? Oh, darkness…”

  They kept riding.

  LXXXVII

  WITH EACH STEP, Gairloch looked more like a small roan horse than a pony, and the rest of us like dust-covered statues- except for the sneezing.

  No matter what I tried, I kept sneezing, and so did Weldein and Fregin. Fregin’s nose was as red as a hearth, but somehow, Berli had managed to avoid the sneezing all through the long ride.

  My rear was sore, and I’d already forgotten how good it ha
d felt to sleep in my own bed the one night we had stopped at home, rather than in the barracks in Kyphrien. My own bed or not, though, I missed Krystal. I hadn’t missed the brawwking of the chickens.

  Wegel had looked so mournful in stammering through his explanations of what the little girls needed that I’d let him use scraps and mismatched lumber left over to see what he could do to make a table and stool for the cot. I also suggested he try to get some leftovers from his father. It had been his idea, and it wasn’t a bad one, but he needed to do some of the asking as well.

  Rissa had just shaken her head when we rode out, and the two girls had watched wide-eyed. Wegel had waved the broom, and I’d wanted to tell him that we weren’t exactly on the most glorious of quests, that getting tied up with the collision between order and chaos was going to be messy, and, if I weren’t lucky and careful, possibly fatal. The disturbing thought that followed was that it could be fatal even if I were lucky and careful.

  Still, the ride north had been quiet, almost too quiet, with the marketplace in Kyphrien a hushed shade of its former self, and the roads deserted and the dust thick and sometimes undisturbed.

  Kkhchewww! I looked up.

  “You sneezed. You actually sneezed.”

  Berli looked embarrassed. Then she shrugged.

  “… don’t believe it…” muttered Fregin. “Friggin‘ dust finally got to her.”

  I patted Gairloch on the neck and wished I hadn’t as more dust swirled up into my nose, and I sneezed.

  “See?” Berli said.

  The kaystone on the right side of the road announced that Meltosia was three kays ahead.

  We stopped there for a midday meal at Mama Parlaan’s, where we ate more burkha, as hot as I’d ever had, and where everyone was quite polite, and all too quiet. I began to dread reaching Tellura.