The Death of Chaos

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  My father had his arms wrapped around Mother for a long time, longer than I had ever seen, or perhaps only longer than I had ever noticed. I was afraid I understood. Whatever happened, it wasn’t going to be good. My mother had almost never left Wandernaught. I glanced up at Dayala, her hand and Justen’s twined together. Nor did druids normally leave the Great Forest of Naclos.

  I squeezed Krystal’s hand and could feel her sadness, as well, as we all gathered around my mother and father.

  “Donara, this is Dayala, and this is Justen.” Even as he introduced his brother to my mother, my father held her hand, almost as though he never wished to relinquish it.

  “Mother,” I added, “this is Krystal.”

  “You are lovely, although that is certainly secondary to your abilities.” Her eyes took us both in. “I do not think you would have found each other in Recluce, and that is something to rejoice in.”

  The guards and Tamra stood back, but I gestured. “This is Tamra, and Weldein, and Dercas, Jinsa, and Haithen.”

  “You are all quite impressive.” Mother smiled.

  Impressive? Then again, maybe we were. Impressive for the arrogance or desperation to think that we could stand up against scores of iron-hulled ships with thousands of large explosive shells.

  “Cynical man,” whispered Krystal, but the words were warm, and so were the feelings behind them.

  “I did prevail upon the Council for a warrant,” my mother explained to my father. “We have two of the guest houses at the old inn, but must pay our own meals. I’ve arranged for mounts. I thought everyone would be happier that way, rather than in a carriage.” She glanced at me, and then at Justen. “There weren’t any mountain ponies.”

  I grinned and shrugged. We walked slowly down the old pier, to the sound of the water lapping against the stones, and the shouts and rumblings as the Feydr Queen made ready to depart Land’s End.

  “Not even off-loading,” said Dercas. “Doesn’t that beat all?”

  “They don’t want to be anywhere near Recluce,” responded Tamra.

  “Would you?” asked Haithen.

  In front of us, my parents walked down the damp stones of the pier, arm in arm, as did Justen and Dayala. The town was already in shadow from the western hills, although the ancient flag-the crossed rose and blade-flying from the old keep still caught the last of the sunlight.

  We passed the single-storied harbor-master’s building between the old pier and the newer pier-the newer one a mere six centuries old. From the staff above the building flew the current ensign of Recluce-the stark black ryall on a white background. The flag flapped twice in a sudden gust of wind from the hills as we walked past.

  In front of us, Tamra gave her head a small shake, murmuring words to herself I could not catch. Weldein coughed slightly, and I looked back, and tried not to frown at him.

  “Where’s this inn?”

  “To the left here and up that lane,” said Krystal. “The bigger building is the inn, and the stable is in back of it. On the low hill to the left of the stable are the guest houses.” She definitely knew Land’s End.

  The gas lamps flared on at the Founders’ Inn as we approached, the yellow light reflecting off the time- and foot-polished black stones of the street.

  Outside the inn, a girl in clean brown leathers jumped up as we approached. “The guest houses are to the left of the stables, and the evening meal is being served now.”

  “Thank you.” My father gave a head bow.

  “Is there enough space in the guest houses?” questioned Tamra.

  “Each guest house has four bedrooms, and more than adequate water and showers,” my mother explained.

  “… they believe in a lot of washing here…” grumbled Dercas.

  “That will do you, and us, good,” said Haithen sweetly. We stopped in front of the smaller guest house. “If you don’t mind,” said my mother with a smile, “those of us with more history will take the smaller place.”

  The rest of us walked to the second guest house, where Weldein stepped ahead and held open the door. Tamra gave him an exaggerated nod.

  Krystal and I got the bedroom at the west end, which combined a sitting area holding a table and two matching armless chairs with a bedroom, and a double-width bed with a simple red oak headboard, a dressing table, and two matching wardrobes. The coverlet on the bed was a simple design of silver and blue repeating circles, without lace, and the bed had real sheets. Beyond the large bedroom and sitting room was a bathroom, with a shower, but no tub.

  We unloaded some of our packs into the wardrobes and hung up our spare outfits. I leaned the staff against one of the wardrobes.

  “I am going to use that shower,” Krystal said. “You can certainly go first.” I sat down in the chair, conscious of how filthy I felt. My hair itched from salt spray, and my legs ached.

  I must have been tired, because Krystal was suddenly standing there with damp hair and a towel wrapped around her saying, “You can take your shower.”

  After giving her a long and gentle kiss, I did take a shower, but the water was getting cold, probably because the sun-warmed cisterns on the roof only held so much warm water, and a lot of people were showering. Still, it felt good. Then I rinsed out my dirty clothes and hung them over the shower.

  Krystal was dressed in greens, without her vest, by the time I dried off. “What are you going to wear?”

  “The grays.”

  “Tamra will laugh.”

  “Let her. I’m filing perverse.”

  “Good. I hope you do later.” The warm, almost-leering smile I got was worth it.

  After I pulled on the grays, we walked out through the hall and down the narrow street to the inn, where the girl in brown leathers opened the door. Her eyes lingered on my grays, but only for a moment.

  The public room was pleasantly cool, with some of the ancient leaded-glass windows ajar. A handful of tables were occupied, mainly by men, except for a couple in one corner and two women near the door. In the far corner, Weldein, Tamra, and the other guards sat at a large circular table. Weldein gestured. “Commander.”

  Krystal acknowledged him with a nod, and we walked across the room and joined them. Several of the men glanced from Weldein to Krystal and to the deadly blade that still seemed a part of her.

  “… greens… Kyphran… what about the gray?”

  “… must be a gray wizard… looks like trouble…”

  “… another gray wizard outside.”

  “… no good’ll come of that…”

  “… mercenaries, the lot of them… woman commander… colder than the Roof of the World…”

  I gathered that the general consensus was that we looked dangerous, and I had to admit to myself that pleased me.

  “You’re terrible,” Krystal murmured.

  “Not so much as you.”

  The table was polished red oak, smoothed by care and age, with real pewter cutlery and gray tumblers. We sat down at the two chairs left, with me beside Haithen and Krystal beside Tamra.

  “Redberry’s in the white pitcher and ale in the gray,” offered Weldein.

  “Bread’s good,” mumbled Dercas, jabbing a dark crust toward the basket. “Real good.” Another basket rested between Tamra and Krystal.

  “Those will be your dying words,” laughed Jinsa.

  The blond serving girl stopped beside Krystal. “They told me to wait for you. Tonight you can have either whitefish, with baked quilla on the side, or grilled chops. They also come with the quilla, and we do have honeyed maize cakes as a sweet.” She nodded at each request and was gone.

  I filled Krystal’s glass with ale, then mine with redberry. “Could I have some bread?”

  “Nervous?” Krystal sipped from the gray glass, then passed the basket.

  “A little.” The warm and crusty dark bread carried the scent of trilia.

  “So am I.”

  “Who wouldn’t be?” asked Tamra.

  That was the first time that
Tamra ever had admitted anything.

  “There’s a first time for everything,” Krystal added quietly.

  Tamra’s brow wrinkled for a moment, but she didn’t respond.

  I tried not to shiver, even as I felt her concern. Each of us was definitely feeling more and more of what the other thought and felt. I chewed on a corner of the bread, then offered the basket back to Krystal.

  “No, thank you.”

  “You two are getting more alike,” offered Tamra.

  I shrugged. If Tamra had been able to see the order tie between Justen and Dayala, she could see the one that linked us, fainter though it was.

  Krystal smiled. “Let her guess.”

  Tamra raised her left eyebrow.

  Weldein cleared his throat.

  “Bread’s really good,” said Dercas.

  The serving girl returned with the fish, serving Krystal first, then Tamra, and then me. Krystal, wielding her knife as efficiently as ever, cut a slice offish. My stomach growled-twice. How long had it been since we’d had something to eat besides bread and cheese and dried fruit-or mutton?

  My parents and Justen and Dayala slipped into the public room, and sparked another round of comments.

  “… another fellow in gray… and a druid… has to be… barefoot…”

  “… think the big guy in black is a storm wizard…”

  “… never seen so much trouble in one place…”

  Two men left coins on the table and hastily scurried out.

  “I can see why people hate Recluce,” Haithen said after swallowing a mouthful of redberry.

  My mouth was so full of warm and tangy fish I didn’t dare open it.

  “Oh?” asked Tamra.

  “It’s rich, and the food is good.”

  Quilla was good food? A small bite showed me it was as crunchy as I remembered, and it still reminded me of sawdust. But the whitefish was firm, and the golden sauce gave it just enough tang.

  When we finished, the serving girl whisked off the big brown plates and replaced them with smaller light brown dishes, each containing a large honeyed maize cake.

  “Really good stuff!” marveled Dercas.

  “He travels on his gut.”

  “Not a bad way to go.”

  Still, for all the size of the cakes, Krystal and I did finish ours, as did everyone else. I’d forgotten how good honeyed carna nuts tasted.

  As the serving girl passed, I touched her arm. “How much?”

  She shook her head. “The black mage there is paying for your party.” She smiled as my mouth dropped open.

  Tamra frowned. “Something’s not right.”

  Krystal and I turned to her.

  “No,” she said, “it’s not that at all. It really isn’t.”

  “Just a moment.” I told Krystal as I eased out of my chair and walked over to my parents and Justen and Dayala. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “After you’ve traveled so far?” My father grinned. “Besides, the Institute can afford a few meals. Especially now.”

  Although his expression was cheerful, like Tamra, it bothered me, but I couldn’t say why. “Thank you. It’s the best dinner we’ve had in a long while. A long while.”

  “We’re glad,” my mother said. “Enjoy the guest house. Things will be more cramped when we get to Wandernaught.”

  “We need to leave right after dawn,” my father added. “Pleasant dreams.”

  While they weren’t quite a dismissal, his words indicated that anything serious was going to wait, and, in a way, that was fine with me.

  “He said the Institute could afford it,” I told Krystal.

  “It probably can,” observed Tamra. “Still…”

  Weldein just looked puzzled.

  “We’re tired,” I explained, as Krystal rose.

  Of course, we weren’t that tired, but my mother had been the one to suggest we enjoy the guest house.

  CXVIII

  AS WE CLIMBED out of the early morning shadows and reached the top of the hill and the road broadened into the beginning of the High Road that ran from Land’s End to Nylan, we passed the four black buildings surrounded by emerald grass that comprised the Black Holding of the Founders where the Council sometimes met.

  “It’s hard to believe that’s where it all started,” I said to Krystal. The black mare skittered slightly, as if reacting to the ages of order that seeped from the structures. “They say that Creslin built most of it with his own hands.”

  A huge, nearly perfect oak dwarfed the buildings.

  “Do you really believe that he planted that tree?” Tamra’s voice was light.

  “Of course,” I answered, just to annoy her. Besides, he probably did.

  Krystal grinned and shook her head.

  “Who was Creslin?” asked Weldein.

  “One of the founders of Recluce,” Tamra answered. “Supposedly, he was the greatest weather wizard ever. He changed Recluce from a desert isle into the pleasant place it is now and destroyed who knows how many fleets, including two belonging to Hamor. He was also a Westwind-trained blade who slashed his way across Candar, charming women along the way with his singing. In his later years, he was a stonemason, developed the famous green brandy, and generally served as the local equivalent of the angels.” Tamra turned in the saddle. “Did I miss anything, Krystal?”

  “Well… you forgot Megaera. She was nearly as great a storm wizard and blade as he was, and after he went blind, she took up his blade. She almost died in childbirth, though, and they only had one child.”

  A moment after Krystal finished, we looked at each other, suddenly cold inside. At that, Tamra gave us a puzzled look.

  “Is that all?” mock-complained Weldein. “You mean he didn’t destroy the white wizards single-handedly?”

  “No,” said Tamra. “Justen did that-somewhat later.”

  The blond guard raised his eyebrows.

  “He did,” confirmed Krystal.

  “Justen’s around two centuries old,” I added.

  “Didn’t you realize what you were getting yourself into?” asked Tamra.

  Weldein shifted in his saddle and tried to contain a swallow.

  Ahead, I could hear my mother’s clear voice. “The cherries were early this year, but very firm, and the pearapples and apples are just coming in now…”

  Before too long we reached the kaystone that offered an arrow to the right and the name “Extina.”

  “Do you want to stop?”

  “No. There’s no reason to, none at all.” Krystal’s voice was remote, almost detached.

  I reached out and touched her arm.“You don’t have to. The past is past, and it ought to stay there.”

  “I hope so.” She looked ahead at the even paving stones of the High Road that seemed to stretch forever. “Thank you.”

  “No one on this road…” said Dercas.

  “Not yet. This used to be the most populated end of Recluce, but people have shifted south, especially around the Feyn River. The land is better there, and more timber is grown here now. Timber and black-wooled sheep.”

  Timber and black-wooled sheep… and legends that were hard to live up to and harder to live down.

  CXIX

  RIDING HARD, WE reached Mattra in four days, even before twilight. In between times, I read through The Basis of Order and thought a lot about how I could use the waters of the Gulf and the deep chaos against the iron ships of Hamor-and the cannon and troops those ships carried.

  When we reached the lane leading to Uncle Sardit’s, the sun hung just above the apple trees and below a few white puffy clouds. My mount’s hoofs clicked on the even stones, and the muted chirping of insects whispered through the trees. The apple leaves rustled in the light breeze, and the not-quite-ripe feel of the apples seemed to fall across us.

  “If you don’t mind, dear, and Krystal,” my mother announced, “I thought that you two, and Justen and Dayala, could stay with Sardit and Elisabet. Tamra and Weldein and the other g
uards would stay with us.” She looked at Krystal. “That would be all right, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t need personal guards that close in the middle of Recluce, would you?”

  I looked at Krystal.

  “That would be fine. Lerris has spoken of his uncle Sardit.” Krystal glanced at Tamra and Weldein. Both looked away from her amused glance.

  When we all rode up to Uncle Sardit’s and Aunt Elisabet’s, they had been waiting on the side porch and came down to meet us in the side yard, in front of the shop. Sardit even wore his clean dinner clothes. The shop was not only closed, but the shutters were in place, so tightly fitted that not a crack appeared. I didn’t see any sign of an apprentice.

  “So… the crafter returns.” Sardit looked little different, short and wiry, with the salt - and - pepper hair and beard, still slightly disheveled in appearance. “I hope you’re still not putting too much pressure on your clamps.”

  I did flush a little. After all, that small fault was what had led to my dangergeld.

  “It is good to see you, Lerris. And this must be Krystal,” said Aunt Elisabet. I hadn’t realized how much she looked like my father, and, how, in some ways, Justen and I looked more alike, although I was slightly taller than my uncle.

  “Dayala.” Elisabet bowed to the druid, accompanying the gesture with a warm and real smile that I could even feel.

  The druid blushed, ever so slightly, as she returned the smile. “I have heard much of you.”

  “I am sure, but please don’t hold it against me after so many years.”

  Justen hugged my aunt for more than a moment, and both their eyes were damp when they stepped back.

  Elisabet turned to my parents, still mounted. “Surely you’ll stay for dinner.”

  My father shook his head. “We need to go…” His eyes were dark for a moment. “You understand.”

  “Of course. Then we’ll see you in the morning.”

  I watched as they rode down the stone-paved lane back toward the High Road, with Tamra and Weldein right behind them. Haithen looked back for a moment. Dercas and Jinsa didn’t.

  “Well…” began my aunt. “Lerris, you know where everything is. You show them where to wash up. You and Krystal have the rear guest room, and Justen and Dayala have the front room. By the time you’re washed up, dinner will be ready.”