5.Death of Chaos
CVI
Nylan, Recluce
“HIS MIGHTINESS STESTEN, Emperor of Hamor and Regent of the Gates of the Ocean, was not pleased with the destruction of more than thirty of his ships.” Heldra fingers the edge of the map on the ancient black oak table. “Nor the total loss of more than six thousand troops.”
“That's one way of putting it.” Maris coughs. “He was so pleased that he's assembling a mere four hundred steel-hulled warships and over fifteen thousand troops. That doesn't count the cannon.”
“That's all an excuse,” snorts Maris. “Those ships were ready to sail long before he found out.”
“How will he feed them?” asks Maris.
“Always the trader,” sighs Heldra.
“It's important,” counters Maris.
“Sammel took care of that,” answers Talryn. “He told them about order-preservation, how to use chaos-steam to preserve food.”
“That traitor...” says Heldra.
“So...it's not as though he gave them a way to create wizards, thank darkness,” counters Maris. “It's a good thing they don't have many wizards.”
“How could they?” asks Heldra. “None of the ancients ever went to Hamor.”
“The food-preservation thing is bad enough. That's how they can get all those troops on their ships, just because Sammel told them how to do it with boiling water and metal or glass containers. He gave the method to Colaris...” Talryn rolls up the map and crosses the room to the cabinet, which he opens. He slides the map into its slot and closes the cabinet.
“And Colaris gave it to Hamor in return for troops and weapons, especially those cannon?”
Talryn nods slowly.
“You know, Justen already proved that too much order results in chaos.” Maris looks nervously at the depressions in the smooth stones of the floor.
“What do you mean?” asks Heldra.
“Maybe... maybe the Council put too much order into Candar... with Lerris, and Tamra, and Sammel...”
“I notice you're not saying 'we,' Maris.”
“I wasn't a member of the Council then. Hundril represented the traders then.”
“Well, he's dead of old age, and you're the traders' representative now. What should we do?”
Maris looks back at the floor.
“Complaining won't solve our problems.”
“Do we want a solution?”
“Stop asking questions and provide some constructive thoughts,” snaps Heldra.
“My point,” returns Maris, his voice edged, “is that solutions are sometimes worse than the problem. We forget this because big problems don't happen often. Nearly two centuries ago, Justen solved the problem of Fairhaven, all right. And back at the beginning, Creslin solved the problem of Recluce. We all know how the great Dorrin solved the problem of how to make Recluce independent and powerful. But because those were a long time ago, we forget that solutions have high prices.”
“You'd rather that we didn't exist?” muses Talryn. “If any of those 'solutions' had failed... we wouldn't be here.”
“We wouldn't, but the solutions were hard on the people of those times. Justen destroyed half of Nylan and over two thousand people there alone to bring down Frven, and the rest of the deaths were never totaled. The deaths caused by Creslin's meddling with the weather have never been summed, and Dorrin changed everything-we're still paying for his discoveries. That Hamorian fleet wouldn't be possible without his discoveries.”
“That doesn't exactly help, Maris. Probably all of Nylan would have died if Justen hadn't stopped Fairhaven.”
“Fine.” Maris smiles. “Make sure Gunnar and Lerris and Justen and Tamra and Krystal know about the Hamorian fleet.”
“How will that help?”
“I don't know, exactly.” Maris shrugs. “But I'd bet they won't stand aside and let Recluce fall. I also bet there will be times you'll wish they had.”
“Stop being so damned cryptic! Why?”
“I don't know. But if you put Lerris's youth and audacity together with Justen's and Gunnar's knowledge, and the judgments of those two women, I wouldn't want to be in the Hamorians' boots. But, then, I wouldn't want to be in ours, either.”
Heldra and Talryn exchange glances.
“Do we have any choice?”
“Probably not. Not this late.”
“How do we let them know?”
“Write Gunnar in Ruzor, and send it by the last of the trio. That will convey some urgency. And charter a ship to get them back here.”
Heldra and Talryn exchange glances.
“Unless you want them on the Dylyss.” Maris raises his eyebrows. “If you have any better ideas...”
Heldra looks up. “There's more than one use for the black squads.”
“Don't be a fool, Heldra,” says Talryn slowly. “If you try to double-cross them, there won't be enough of you to feed to the minnows. And if they don't do it to you, I will.”
“Strong words...” But Heldra looks down as Talryn's eyes catch hers.
Maris swallows, then says, “Should I write the letter?”
Talryn nods, not taking his eyes off Heldra.