Chaos Balance
XVII
THE WHITE WIZARD and the senior lancer officer rode side by side, the hoofs of their mounts clacking on the time-polished stones of the Lord's East Road.
They passed a kaystone with sculpted and fluted edges, mounted on a tan stone platform that bore the inscription “GELIENDRA-3 K.” The lancer glanced at Themphi. “Ser wizard?”
“Yes, Jyncka?”
“One should not question His Mightiness, or white brethren, but could you hazard a thought as to why our punishment was so harsh?”
“Harsh?” Themphi raised his eyebrows. “Harsh,” repeated Jyncka. “We are allowed to buy any peasant girl for a concubine, if we offer double her dowry. We can slay any peasant who raises a hand against us, yet for taking liberties with a peasant girl-and we did not hurt her- we have been destroyed: either executed, allowed to suicide, or condemned to spend the rest of a short life battling the accursed forest. How did this happen? Is our world slowly unraveling, and I cannot see it? Or have I been blind all my years?”
Themphi frowned. “I can tell you what happened. The girl's father refused two golds and said that you were worse than sows. Then he ran toward His Mightiness. The peasant died. After that, our Lord turned to me and made his judgment. He said that when peasants defied his presence, matters needed attending to. And he sent me, his wizard of wizards, with the injunction that I should not return until the forest was contained.” The wizard smiled coldly.
“So you are exiled as well?”
“In effect.” Themphi shrugged. “Unless we can vanquish the forest.”
“Is that likely?”
“I do not know. I do know that it took all the might and skill of the ancients to contain it.”
“And you must combat it alone?” asked Jyncka.
“With your help and that of those living nearby-that is His Mightiness's command.”
Jyncka raised his eyebrows. “I would not term that any great reward for service.”
“Rulers do not reward for service, Majer, nor for realistic assessments. They reward for results.”
“Times change,” murmured Jyncka. “A great ship rises in the works at Cyad, a ship like the ancient fireships. They say. the lancers ride north to bring the Grass Hills within the Walls of Cyad. Yet we are accorded less honor than before, and those who speak what they believe to be truth are dishonored.”
“They do change,” agreed Themphi dryly. “That is because His Mightiness works to restore what once was Cyad's, and he has little patience for those who caution against such efforts.”
“. . . for all that . . . unraveling from the great skein . . .” murmured a voice from the lancers somewhere behind. “Fewer steamwagons, fewer wizards . . .”
Themphi hoped the voice was not Fissar's, but he did not turn in the saddle. His eyes flicked northward toward the smudge of green on the horizon, and he shifted his weight in the hard saddle.
“Is the world of Cyador unraveling, ser wizard?” asked Jyncka. “Would you enlighten me?”
Themphi shrugged. “You have seen more than I, Majer. Do you think so?”
“I have not seen everything, but what I have seen disturbs me.”
“It disturbs me as well,” said Themphi. His eyes went back to the horizon, and he did not speak for a long time.