Chaos Balance
LXII
LEPHI LEANED FORWARD in the silver-trimmed malachite chair. His brown eyes were flat as the slim, balding, and white-haired wizard walked across the polished white stones, then bowed. “You summoned me, Your Mightiness?”
“I did. Have you a solution for the Accursed Forest, Triendar? One that does not cost me the double handful of white mages remaining? Or more troops that I do not have?”
“Has Your Mightiness rediscovered the secrets of the iron birds? Or how to make iron feathers that reflect the sun? Or perhaps you have found the means to create the ice lances of the ancient angels to place upon your fireship?” Triendar's voice was mild, even.
Lephi raised his hand. “Do not mock me, Triendar, unless you wish ...”
The white-haired wizard bowed again. “I do not mock Your Mightiness. What you have asked of me is as easy as what I have asked of you.”
“You are the wizard, not I.”
“Can I lift myself into the sky, Sire? Can I turn the Great Western Ocean into steam and leave the fishes gasping on dry sands and seaweed?” Triendar bowed once more.
“I set you a task, and I bid you leave until you can return and tell me it is done.” Lephi's voice was hard and flat, but his hands gripped the armrests of the malachite throne so hard that they trembled.
“Very well, Your Mightiness. I shall not return.” Triendar bowed once again.
Lephi raised his right hand, then lowered it. “What mean you that you will not return?”
“Your Mightiness,” offered the white wizard. “All of us are bound. You cannot fly. I cannot turn all the seas to steam nor hold back the Accursed Forest without white wizards and fire and men with torches and mattocks. You can bid and command all that you desire. You can have the Archers of the Rational Stars turn me into a target, but I cannot do what I cannot do, and I will not deceive you into thinking it is so.”
Lephi's hands gripped the armrests again, tightly, and for long moments there was silence. Not even a whisper nor a sigh caressed the cold white polished stones.
Finally, the Lord of Cyador spoke. “You have always been honest, and you risk your life to be honest. I cannot say I am pleased, but I cannot ask more of any man nor wizard.” Lephi paused. “Bring me a plan. Tell me what you can do with how many wizards and how many men. Tell me how many it will take-forever, is it not-to keep the forest in check?”
Triendar bowed a last time. “It will be done, Your Mightiness.”
After the white mage left, Lephi wiped his forehead, then crumpled the perfumed white towel and dropped it beside the chair, where a girl in white silently retrieved it.
“At least... I will bring back the fireships ... and the fire cannon.” He smiled. “Then, then they will all fear great Cyad again.”