5.Death of Chaos
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 guards 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.”
The spotless gray washstones and shower hadn't changed, and the towels were thick and smelled fresh. In the end, we all had showers, and mine was cold, because I let the others go first.
“Don't always be so noble.” Krystal used her towel on the fine short black and silver hair that always seemed to fall into place.
“I won't.” I let my own towel drop. “You can warm me up.”
She started to say my name, but our lips got in the way, but only for a little because Elisabet started calling for dinner. Having an aunt who is also a mage can be disconcerting.
“You're all tired, and probably wish an early bedtime.” Aunt Elisabet's eyes twinkled for a moment as we took seats at the table. “Dinner is simple, since I didn't know exactly when you would arrive. It's a spiced fish stew and noodles.” She set two dishes on the big circular table, and stepped back into the kitchen, returning with two baskets of bread. The cherry conserve I favored was already on the table. She turned to Dayala. “I have some mixed greens here for you, with some new apple vinegar, and some fresh and dried fruit. The noodles, of course...”
“That is kind.” Dayala smiled.
“We do not see druids often, and I wish I had had the chance to meet you earlier... much earlier. Life can be so short, and...” She shook her head as she pulled out her chair and sat.
“Let's have the noodles,” suggested Uncle Sardit.
“By all means,” said Justen.
“Where did you ride from today?” Elisabet handed the bread basket to Dayala.
“From Alaren.”
“That's a long ride, and tomorrow will be even longer.” Elisabet looked at Krystal. “Not so much for you, I suspect. From what I, understand, you're more experienced with long rides.”
“Any day on horseback is a long ride.”
“Especially when .you're with those of us who aren't used to it.” She smiled at Krystal. “Has Lerris improved any? He wasn't much for riding as a boy.”
“He rides well now.”
“So long as I have Gairloch,” I added, serving the noodles for Krystal as she held the bowl.
“Even on other mounts.” Krystal passed the noodles to Justen, and I served us the stew, trying not to choke at her suppressed amusement.
Aunt Elisabet's fish stew was good enough that it wasn't even fishy, but I still had three chunks of bread with the cherry conserve. Even Krystal had two pieces with the conserve, and for a while, no one did much besides eat. That always seemed to happen when people rode all day.
“I got a note from Perlot. He wrote something about your ordered chairs creating a stir.” Sardit broke the silence.
“Yes. That was one of my stupider accomplishments.”
“I doubt that was stupid,” said Aunt Elisabet.
Justen and Dayala nodded.
“When it's beyond good crafting it is.” I explained as quickly as possible how my putting excess order into the chairs for the subprefect had disrupted Gallos and forced me to leave precipitously. That didn't even cover leaving Deirdre and Bos-trie. “... forcing excess order where it doesn't belong leads to problems.” I smiled ruefully, before adding, “Of course, that hasn't stopped me from doing it, just from realizing what a mess it causes.”
“Perlot said you started a new idea-children's furniture.” Sardit raised his glass and took a healthy swig of ale, and I understood another reason why my mother had thought Justen might be happier with Elisabet and Sardit.
“I was looking for something for Bostric to do, and I thought some of the gentry might pay for furniture designed for children. I was lucky. They did.”
“Perlot said that they still were.”
“I suppose I could try that in Kyphros.”
“It might be more appropriate than doing dining sets for Antona.” The mischievous feeling I got told me Krystal wasn't serious, or not totally serious.
“And this Antona is attractive?” Even Aunt Elisabet's eyes twinkled.
“She is an older woman, who runs the local... pleasure trade... rather well. She commissioned a desk, and then a dining set.”
“An ornate and excessively ornamented piece, no doubt,” laughed Sardit.
“It was tasteful, elegant, and the autarch would have been jealous,” said Krystal.
“Oh, dear,” said Elisabet. “There is nothing so dangerous as a courtesan with intelligence and taste.”
“Maybe Kasee ought to make her Finance Minister,” I suggested, not entirely in jest.
“She might be easier to deal with than Mureas,” admitted Krystal.
“Wouldn't anyone?”
“Would you pass the bread?” asked Justen.
“And the conserve?” responded Elisabet with that glint in her eyes.
“Of course.”
The conserve pot was nearly empty, and so were the bread baskets, both for the dark bread and the white loaf.
“What else are you working on?” asked Sardit.
“I was doing some travel chests. Is there anything better than fir for lightweight things you want to be strong?”
Sardit frowned, scratching his head. “Probably not, although they say there's a Brystan spruce that's good, but it rots too easily, especially around water, and if you're traveling a lot by water...”
“Then you'd have an unhappy traveler after a few short years.”
He nodded. “How are your inlays coming?”
“They're still weak. I'm cheating, in a way...” I went on to explain about Wegel and his carving, and that led somehow to discussions of finishes, which turned into whether brasswork should be varnished.
Krystal yawned, and Aunt Elisabet stood. “You two could talk about woodwork all night, but we all have to leave early in the morning. The Hamorian fleet won't be waiting for us to finish craft talk.”
“You're going?” I asked, realizing as I did that Krystal wasn't in the least surprised.
“I wouldn't miss it for anything. Justen and Gunnar declared I was too young for their last... adventure, and I'm not about to miss this one.”
My eyes went to Sardit, and he smiled, not totally cheerfully. “Someone has to keep her feet somewhere near the ground, and that's me.”
Once again, I knew I was missing something, but Krystal and I made our way to the rear guest room, immaculate, and with a double-width bed and a down mattress over a tight canvas frame, one of Sardit's innovations that I probably should have copied, if I ever had the chance. The combination made for a comfortable sleep.
The quilt coverlet was a light silvered green with a darker green star pattern, and I didn't remember it.
“It bothers you that your aunt and uncle are coming, doesn't it?” asked Krystal as she pulled off her boots, and then her shirt.
“Yes and no. Aunt Elisabet has always been more than I think most people realize, but I think my mother's coming, too, and there's nothing either my mother or Sardit can do.” I put my boots in the corner and hung my clothes on the pegs in the wardrobe, next to {Crystal's.
She named back the coverlet. “They don't think you can win, and they don't want to be alone.”