5.Death of Chaos
XXVI
THE EIGHT CHAIRS, all rough-finished, sat in a line across the workroom floor. With fine-shaping, a bit tedious, and some polishing and finishing, they'd be ready for Hensil. As it was, an apprentice, a careful one, could have finished them. Of course, I didn't have one, and no prospects at the moment. That was my own fault, though. I hadn't really looked for one, and finding a good apprentice was hard, as I had illustrated for both Justen and my uncle Sardit with my failures.
Still, I looked at the lines of the chairs and smiled-for a moment. Even unfinished, they showed quality. I hadn't quite finished Kasee's wardrobe, although it looked finished, and I had the two desks to complete. The one for Werfel was a simple single-pedestal desk in red oak, less than an eight-day from completion. Antona's I hadn't started. I hadn't even done wood selection.
The patter of a light winter shower came and went, and I could sense horses on the road. Rather than start something else, I went out into the yard and waited. The damp smell of barely wetted clay disappeared in the light cold wind as the clouds carrying that rain moved eastward. The sky toward the Westhorns was clear.
Before long, Krystal and her guards rode into the yard.
Perron had pretty much replaced Yelena as the head of Krystal's personal guard, because Yelena was being groomed for more leadership, especially for the attack on Hydlen. After Krystal's quiet words, he had been even more deferential than Yelena had been. He nodded at me from the saddle. “Good evening, Master Lerris.”
“Good evening, Perron.”
I held out a hand for Krystal, but she ignored it, her mind clearly elsewhere. I took the reins and led the black into the stable where we both unsaddled him and took turns brushing him down.
I patted Krystal on the shoulder once or twice, but she didn't want to say much, perhaps because she was thinking about everything that was threatening.
When we walked into the yard from the stable and past the end of the building that served as a bunkhouse, Krystal looked at me. “Let's walk up on the hill.”
Behind the house, the trees rose to a low hill beyond the flat part that had once been a sheep meadow before Kasee gifted me the land-it had reverted to her when something strange had happened to the previous owner. The land had been part of my reward for taking on and being fortunate enough to eliminate Antonin.
Someday, I intended to use the small stream for my own millrace, and cut and season my own wood. There were all three kinds of oaks, and even a handful of lorken, although they only grew near the very top of the hill.
Krystal's eyes were darker and more serious, and there were deep circles under them, and her hair was showing streaks of silver. I needed to work on that, too, like everything else. She still wore her gold-braided jacket, and I had sawdust on my sleeves.
I brushed off the sawdust and took her arm as we walked up the path. It ran next to the covered water line that fed the house from the pond I'd made on the hillside. The gray leaves of the oaks rustled in the light and cold winter wind, and the sky was a velvet purple, with a trace of pink along the western hills. The air was damper on the hill, with the acrid scent of winter leaves.
Neither one of us said anything as we walked through the trees. There was a cleared spot at the top of the hill, and we looked down at the house, the attached shop, and the stable and shed. A line of smoke rose from the kitchen chimney, and I could smell the wood burning. The pile of new-sawn wood was stacked by the shed, and a smaller pile of partly split stove wood was heaped by the back door. I grinned, recalling Rissa's efforts to get me to saw it.
Krystal squeezed my hand.
“Lerris... you don't have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“You know. You always act dense when it's difficult for you. I meant leading Yelena's force to the white wizard.”
I squeezed her hand in return, but I kept looking down at the house. I hadn't quite thought of it as leading Yelena's force. “You'll be right behind me.”
“That's not answering the question. You still won't admit it if you are worried or if you need help. Don't make me guess how you feel. Not now.”
“Krystal.” I paused. “We don't have any choices. You're the commander, and being who you are, you won't command from Kyphrien. That means the Hydlenese will throw rockets at you-unless someone stops them. Or diverts them.”
“Yelena could go without you,” she said quietly.
“She could, and a lot of troopers could get killed.”
“They will anyway.”
“You risk your life a lot, and I craft wood most of the time these days.”
“No. I don't risk my life very often, not any more. I'd rather not.”
I could sense the smile, and I gave her hand a squeeze. She returned the pressure, and we looked at the violet sky turning black, and the stars flickering into tiny lamps.
“Lerris...”
Krystal was quietly determined, another reason why I loved her, and she wanted an answer, not an evasion. Evasions were sometimes easier for me, and she knew that.
“I don't like it. Gerlis is stronger than Antonin was. He's got those rockets, and he's a lot smarter.”
“Because he's surrounded himself with an army?”
I nodded. “He's not as arrogant, I don't think, and he dug up the idea of the rockets from somewhere. Or Duke Berfir did. I wonder if they've found out something else as well.”
Krystal put an arm around me, and I put one around her as we looked out toward Kyphrien.
“You didn't say much to Kasee...”
I tried not to shrug. “What could I say? If you have to lead the forces against rockets, and I sit here because I'm no soldier, how will I feel if anything happens to you?”
Another silence fell.
“How will I feel if you die doing my job?” she asked.
“What I have to do isn't exactly your job. And it is your job to use what you have to,” I said slowly. “Kasee was right. We just can't let things happen. Things always get worse. The thing that bothers me the most is not being with you.”
“It bothers me. A lot.”
It bothered me a lot, too. How I felt about separations was strange. Once I'd wandered all over Candar without her, without even knowing that I missed her, and now I disliked every small separation.
“I said it bothers me, and it does. But it won't go away, either. What you've planned makes the most sense, but I don't have to like it.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was soft, and she put both arms around me, and we held each other.