Chaos Balance
C
TRIENDAR CONCENTRATED ON the glass in the middle of the polished white stone table. As droplets of perspiration popped out on his forehead, the white mists swirled across the glass.
Finally, they wreathed an image, and the wizard swallowed. “This is for younger wizards . . . gets harder these days.”
As the traders had said, a black stone tower reared against the mighty western peaks, and the plumes of smoke from the chimneys bore witness to its inhabitants. So did the stone roads that linked an outbuilding with smoke from its square chimney, and a stone bridge. A line of unfinished low walls on the west side of the black tower testified to the growth of the angel holding.
“It is small,” said Lephi, almost dismissively.
“Small, yes,” Triendar reflected, letting the image fade from the glass. “But it continues to grow. It did not exist three years ago. A year ago, they defeated two armies. And your lancer officers are suffering great losses to the barbarians who could not have touched them a year ago.”
“Barbarian armies, of less than a corps of the Mirror Lancers,” pointed out the Protector of the Steps to Paradise, Seer of the Rational Stars.
“Exactly,” answered the slim, white-haired wizard. “Your lancers, you say, have counted no more than fivescore barbarians-if that. You have lost more than tenscore lancers, and more than that in fine mounts, supply trains, and an entire shipment of copper ingots. What has changed? Have the barbarians changed?”
“How could barbarians change? They never have.” Lephi stood and turned toward the open archway that framed the west balcony. The shipworks lay beyond, out of sight.
“Then they should not be able to defeat the Mirror Lancers.”
“You and Themphi, with your words and logic.”
Triendar lifted his shoulders, then dropped them. “What would you have me say? That Majer Piataphi is handily defeating the Lornians? That the dark angels do not exist? That the Accursed Forest is not threatening to reclaim all of the east of Cyador?”
“Enough. What would you have me do? Throw my hands into the air and cower under the malachite throne and say I can do nothing? Am I to let all Candar pour into Cyad and destroy civilization? No, that will not be!”
Triendar rubbed his smooth-shaven chin.
“Well? You can tell your emperor what not to do. Tell me what actions will best preserve Cyador.”
“Over time, Mightiness, nothing will preserve Cyador.” Triendar smiled ironically. “For now ... I would let the Accursed Forest grow as it will, and bring your might against the barbarians and their angel allies. From the days of the Rational Stars have the angels foreshadowed turmoil and trouble. Even the Accursed Forest can grow but a few kays a year, while a barbarian army can take far more than that.”
“That is what I said. You rejected my words.”
“That was as a mage. You asked what I would do were I you.”
“Cyad will return to glory. It will. Have all your mages gather in Syadtar, and I will order all the lancers and the foot and all manner of weapons and supplies to be gathered there, and the barbarians will feel the might of Cyador.”