The Death of Chaos

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “Wait a moment.” I was getting angry. “You got me put into the dangergeld before I knew what was happening just so I’d be sent to Candar?” There he was, still trying to manage me, bend my life to his pattern without telling me even what was at stake.

  “Not exactly. Elisabet and I knew that, once you found out what your abilities were, if you were exiled then, you’d be so angry that you’d probably lash out blindly. I’d also hoped you’d. meet with Justen. He usually finds dangergelders with your abilities.” He gave a bitter laugh. “You can be angry. I would be. I’d be very angry.”

  That stopped me. I just sat there, openmouthed. Finally, I closed my mouth, although it couldn’t really have been open that long.

  “You had a brother-about a hundred and fifty years ago. He died in Hamor-three days after the ship landed. I tried to get the Brotherhood to stop sending blackstaffers there, and usually they don’t now. Hamor’s more for adventurers, people like… the trader… Leith something or other. I told Martan- he was named for someone who saved my life once-I told Martan everything you’ve had to find out, and he was so angry he never figured anything out.”

  Finally, I looked at my father again. He did look tired, and somehow older. “Do you want anything else to eat?”

  “No.”

  “You still haven’t said why you came here.”

  He shrugged. “No one can save the world alone. Justen couldn’t. I couldn’t even save Recluce. And you can’t save Kyphros-although that’s just the beginning.”

  Once again, I was lost, just as I thought I was beginning to understand. “What do you mean?”

  He smiled, a sad smile. “The struggle between order and chaos never ends. The difference between Recluce and the Legend is not all that great. Recluce fights, and never wins, not for long. The druids in Naclos work to maintain the Balance in their own quiet way, but the work never ends. Nothing’s ever over.”

  “That’s awfully fuzzy.”

  “Do you think that Hamor, with more than five hundred iron-hulled warships, will sit back if we destroy this small fleet and their small armies?”

  “You think we should give up?” He shook his head. “Then blind chance wins.” I needed to think. It should have been clear, but clear thinking isn’t easy when I’m upset, and I’d received two shocks in almost as many days. “How is Mother?”

  “She’s fine. She sends her love. So do Elisabet and Sardit. He told me that you’d better mark all your pieces so that future collectors wouldn’t have to argue whether something you’d done was a genuine Lerris.” He chuckled. “Your crafting may well outlast anything else you do. That’s something I tell your mother about her pottery. I don’t have anything like that.” My father, envying us for our crafts? As I tried to gather myself together again, I heard steps. My father looked up and saw Justen walking into the dining hall with Tamra. “Justen!”

  “Well, look what the light dragged in.” Justen grinned. “ Speak for yourself.”

  They hugged, as though it had not been long years since they had seen each other.

  Tamra looked at them, and her eyes began to water. Then she turned away. I walked over beside her. “It’s all right.” She kept her face averted and shook her head. “You have a family…”

  So I patted her shoulder. “I’m glad you suggested I write.”

  “Lerris… will you ever learn?”

  Learn what? I sighed.

  “Not all tears are sad.” She wiped her face. “I’m glad they got back together.”

  As if to confuse things, Krystal came back through the door. Everyone turned to her and waited.

  “The autarch is meeting with some ministers at the moment. She would like to meet with all of us in the small dining hall after lunch.” Krystal walked over between the four of us. “I have to meet with Subrella for a bit.”

  “Gunnar looks as if he could freshen up,” said Justen. “Then I’ll show him around. You won’t mind, will you, Lerris? You’ve seen him far more recently than I have.”

  “No.” I forced a smile over my confusion.“That’s fine.” I watched as the two men left.

  Krystal and Tamra watched me.

  “Dazed, wouldn’t you say?” asked Tamra.

  “It’s good for him.” Krystal nodded and said to me, “I’ll see you in the small dining hall.”

  So I watched her leave as well.

  “I promised Weldein I’d spar with him.” With that, Tamra was gone, and I stood alone in the empty dining hall.

  Feeling somewhere between abandoned and useless, I wandered out to the courtyard and stripped off my shirt and began to exercise. After a while I sparred against Haithen, Berli, and Dercas, although Jinsa shamed him into it, by telling him that he didn’t have enough nerve to face a staff with a wand.

  Nerve or no, he was good, not that any but the best would have been Krystal’s guards.

  Then I washed up and grabbed some bread and strong yellow cheese for a midday meal.

  Krystal and the autarch weren’t in the small dining hall when I got there, but Justen, my father, and Tamra were. So was Dayala, and she sat between Tamra and Justen. There were also pitchers and mugs on the table, and I poured a glass of redberry and sat down.

  Just as I’d thought I’d finally figured out some things, everyone was treating me as if I knew nothing at all-or that what I knew didn’t matter in the slightest.

  “Going to be quite a gathering,” observed Justen, lifting a mug of the dark ale that only he drank, though Krystal might when she arrived.

  “You’re still drinking that swill?” asked my father with a smile.

  “I could ask the same of you,” pointed out Justen. “It’s good ale. It tastes good. There’s no point in drinking anything else.”

  The door opened, and both Krystal and the autarch entered, without guards, although I could see several station themselves outside the door before Krystal closed it. The autarch seated herself at the end of the table, and Krystal sat to her right, almost across from me.

  The room, with only high windows, was getting warm, and I wiped my forehead.

  “I understand you are a weather mage.” The autarch looked at my father.

  “Yes.”

  “You wish to help us? Why?”

  “For two reasons.” He smiled. “Lerris is my son, and this is his land. Second, by helping you, I hope to help Recluce.”

  Kasee nodded. “I said I would make a decision several days ago, and I delayed that on the advice of the druid. Dayala convinced me that any decision would be premature, and I can see that she was right.” She paused. “A decision is still necessary.”

  I tried not to fidget in my chair, hard as the wood felt under my trousers.

  “How much warning can you provide us, Mage?” she asked my father.

  “At least a little over two days, perhaps longer. Their steam cruisers can travel the distance between Worrak and Ruzor in a little over two days, if the seas are not rough. That does not mean they will attack immediately when they arrive.”

  “We understand that.” She turned to me.“How long will it take you to reach the mid-point in the Lower Easthorns?”

  “I haven’t traveled the whole route from here, but if the maps and the reports are right, between five and six days.”

  “Could you move an army that fast, Commander?”

  “Possibly,” answered Krystal.

  “Any faster?”

  “No.”

  “It would appear that our decisions are made for us. We cannot risk having the bulk of our forces as much as ten days’ travel from Ruzor. Tomorrow morning, the mages will begin their travel, with a small escort and some messengers, to the Lower Easthorns-”

  “I beg your pardon,” interrupted my father politely, waiting.

  “Yes, Mage Gunnar?”

  “I have little in the way of abilities to add to those of Justen or Lerris, not in a conflict so far from the ocean. Nor does the mage Tamra, although she already has considerable skill with
the weather. As weather mages, we may be able to disrupt, perhaps sink, at least a few Hamorian warships, although the iron-hulled steamships are much harder to damage than ships with sails. For those reasons, I would suggest that we might be able to add to the defenses of Ruzor. While we certainly could not stop all the Hamorian troops from landing, we could reduce their numbers.”

  Kasee looked at Krystal. Krystal shrugged.

  “In that case, the mages Gunnar and Tamra will remain in Ruzor. Otherwise, the plan remains the same.”

  So, from what I could figure, Justen, Dayala, and I were headed north and east, while my father and Tamra were to help Krystal hold Ruzor.

  Then, abruptly as they had entered, Krystal and Kasee rose and departed.

  Before I could say a word, the silver-haired Dayala slid into the chair beside me. Had I not known who she was, except for the darkness behind her eyes and the sense of power within her, I would have said that she was younger than Tamra, yet she was probably older than everyone in the room. Who knew how much older?

  “You are troubled because your father remains.” . “Yes. He can stay and protect Krystal, and I can’t go out and do the same thing. Krystal’s not angry at him because he’s using his air wizardry to help protect Ruzor… or her.”

  “I wouldn’t be sure of that.” I got a smile that could only have been druidic.

  Behind me, I could hear Tamra asking Justen, “Are you sure I can help more here?”

  “I have Lerris and Dayala. You’re an air mage, and you need to help Gunnar, and to watch him and learn how he does what he does. There’s no one else who can.”

  Somehow, I was perversely gratified to hear that Tamra was getting the same treatment I was.

  “You both have much to learn, and there is little time,” Dayala explained to me.

  “Little time?”

  “Before everything changes.” She paused. “You must learn. I also must teach you.” She rose.

  “Now?”

  “One must start sometime.” She nodded to Justen, and he gave her a smile.

  I followed her into the small garden behind the barracks where she knelt on the ground beside a line of plants I didn’t know, but I didn’t recognize most plants. Trees were one thing, plants another. She was barefoot.

  “Do you always go barefooted?”

  “How else can I touch the earth?”

  “In snow?”

  “In snow or ice, I could wear boots, but they are… confining.” She looked at me. “Give me your hand.”

  I had to kneel down, but I did.

  She positioned my hand with my fingers just barely touching the leaves. “Now…just feel…”

  I shook my head.

  “Feel…”

  So I tried. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, I could sense the flow of order and chaos within the plant, just as I had deep beneath Candar, except the flows moved more quickly, intertwining…

  The feeling vanished, and I looked down. Dayala had removed her hand.

  “You try it.”

  It took a while, and by the time I could do it each time I tried, the sweat was pouring down my face, and the sun hung low in the western sky.

  “Is that all?”

  “It is a great deal, young Lerris. Few indeed ever learn that, and all who do are druids.”

  “But why?”

  “Because there will be few druids before long.” She smiled sadly, and, while I tried to gather myself together, was gone, like the mist of a forest morning, it seemed.

  I wandered in a half-stupor back to the dining hall, where I ate tough lamb silently at the end of a trestle table. I didn’t see Krystal, but I wasn’t sure I would have seen anyone.

  Then I went back to Krystal’s room where I dug out The Basis of Order, except I couldn’t find anything, really, about the intertwining of order and chaos.

  By the single lamp, I was still reading The Basis of Order when Krystal returned. “You’re up late.”

  “I was waiting for you.”

  “Are you packed?”

  “Yes.” I gestured toward my pack and staff in the corner. “Everything I’ll need is there, except for food.”

  “Good. It’s going to be hot tomorrow.”

  “It’s been hot for I don’t know how many eight-days.” I closed the book, trying not to yawn, and sat up with my feet over the side of the bed. The relatively cool stone felt good on my bare feet.

  “Now I know why you have trouble understanding,” said Krystal, stripping off her vest and tossing it on the table.

  “Why?” I gritted my teeth and left the vest where she had tossed it.

  “If you’d ever admitted to understanding anything, your father would always have had you thinking his way.” She sat in the chair by the window and pulled off her boots. “How does your mother deal with him?”

  “She’s a potter. I told you that. She does her pieces- they’re considered the best in Recluce-and she never talks about order, chaos, the Council, or whatever he does. That’s probably one reason I never really understood how powerful he was.”

  “You didn’t want to.”

  I couldn’t help but nod, since she was probably right. “Come here. Stand by me.” She stood before the window, still in shirt and trousers, but barefoot.

  I stood next to her and looked out at the blackness of the Southern Ocean beyond the few scattered lights of Ruzor. Lamp oil, like everything else, was scarce.

  “I understand, Lerris, but, somehow, I’m still angry at you. It’s not fair, but I am.” She held up a hand in the darkness. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I do, but love doesn’t always take away anger, and this is one of those times.”

  “I’m sorry.” There wasn’t much I could say besides that.

  “You are. I know, but you still don’t really understand. Maybe it’s better that you’re going with Justen and Dayala. Talk to her.”

  She squeezed my hand.“We need to get some sleep. You’ll be up early, and it won’t be that long before the Hamorian ships arrive, according to your father.”

  So we did sleep; after a while and after a fashion.

  C

  Worrak, Hydlen [Candar]

  THE MAN IN the tan uniform crosses the wooden slats that cover the iron-plated deck, repositioning the tan field cap over his bald scalp. He pauses beside the turret and studies the gun barrel that rises from the armor. Then he turns and climbs the iron ladder to the bridge.

  “Marshal Dyrsse.”

  “Commander Gurtel.” Dyrsse bows. “I came to wish you well and offer the Emperor’s blessing.”

  “Thank you. I received your orders, and I regret you won’t be accompanying us. You won’t reconsider that, ser, would you?” asks the fleet commander.

  “Unfortunately not. The press of administration, you know. Force Leader Speyra and Submarshal Hi’errse are highly capable of handling their land forces, and I could certainly not improve on your knowledge of your vessels and their tactics.” Dyrsse offers a rueful smile. “My job is to ensure that our base of operations here expands to be able to supply and support the fleet. Not glamorous, I fear, but necessary, like coal. Very necessary.”

  “We all appreciate your efforts, Marshal Dyrsse, especially in dealing with such a…” The white-haired commander shrugs. “You know what I mean.”

  “A disrupted command structure and an unexpected amount of black magery?” Dyrsse asks with a smile.

  “Yes, there has been that, too much of that, and after this effort, I hope we can turn to deal with the real problem.” The commander’s eyes flick to the northeast.

  “We all do the Emperor’s bidding.”

  “That we do.”

  “I won’t take more of your time. The Emperor is with you.” Dyrsse inclines his head for a moment.

  “May he be with you, Marshal.”

  Dyrsse receives the salute, then turns and descends the iron ladder to the main deck, where he crosses to the quarterdeck, returns the salute of the ship’s gua
rd, and walks down the plank to the stone pier.

  Beyond the harbor’s calm waters are thin plumes of smoke from the more than forty ships bearing the sunburst.

  The marshal’s eyes focus momentarily beyond the ocean and the ships, toward the unseen isle to the northeast. Then he looks back at the warships and shakes his head. “Poor tools.”

  CI

  I STOOD BY Gairloch in the dawn, saddlebags packed, and my pack between them, my staff already in the holder. Justen and Dayala were already mounted. Although she was barefoot and rode bareback, with only a halter on her mount, she let the leads from that lie across her mount’s mane, loosely knotted. The half-squad of mounted guards held Weldein and Berli and four others I didn’t know, except vaguely by sight.

  The day promised to be clear-and hot. Nothing had changed in that way and probably wouldn’t soon.

  My father stepped up and hugged me briefly. “Let Justen pull his own weight.” He grinned and looked at his brother.

  “Just so long as you pull your weight here and take care of my apprentice,” snapped Justen, but he grinned too, for a moment.

  Krystal gave me a hug, and I did hold her, and she whispered in my ear. “Let Justen do it. Stop doing it all yourself, stubborn man. I want you back, and not as a gray-beard.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Try harder,” she hissed.

  “All right.”

  She kissed me, gently, and passionately enough to tell me that she really meant it, before she stepped back, and I climbed up on Gairloch.

  My father looked at me and nodded, and I nodded back.

  “Just them… going out to stop an army?” The words reached my ear, but not the identity of those Finest who watched.

  “Tough bastard, that Lerris is… stop an army if he has to tear himself in pieces first.” Fregin’s sardonic response was slightly higher.

  Krystal frowned, for a moment, before looking at me and mouthing, “Don’t do it.”

  I smiled back at her, and touched Gairloch’s flanks. Justen eased Rosefoot up beside me. Few indeed outside the Finest’s barracks even were about when we rode out onto the old stone-paved byways and wound back and forth on the climbing streets toward the eastern road to the Gateway Gorge. Those few women out trudged slowly, most carrying bundles, some on their heads, their eyes fixed sightlessly on the future they dreaded. At least, it looked that way to me.