The Death of Chaos

5.Death of Chaos

 

 

 

 

 

XXXII

 

 

 

 

SOMETIME AFTER A quick midday watering and an even quicker gulping of rations, we passed the boundary stone clearly flaunted by the Hydlenese-the one that stated “Kyphros.” Someone had thrown or kicked horse droppings at the letters on the gray stone marker.

 

No one said anything, but Jylla looked at the defaced kaystone for a long moment as she rode past.

 

The road rose more steeply and bore right as it neared the valley holding the brimstone springs. The wind carried the faint scent of brimstone along with the dust that indicated it had not rained recently, maybe since my hurried departure from Hydlen.

 

Yelena held up a hand. The column came to a halt.

 

“... we there yet...”

 

“... riding in circles, it seems like...”

 

“Quiet.” Yelena's calm command carried as she looked at me. “There have to be more sentries.”

 

“They were just inside the valley last time.” I nodded and sent out my perceptions, trying to sense what lay over the low rise around the curve in the road. If I were the Hydlenese, I'd have had sentries on the top of the rise to give them more than a kay's warning. That was where the sentries had been before, and they still were.

 

When my eyes refocused, I looked at Yelena. “The sentries are at the top of the rise around the curve. Except it's not really a curve, but it looks that way because the trees grow closer to the road there.”

 

“Are you up for another invisible horse, Weldein?” asked Freyda.

 

Jylla laughed.

 

“That won't work,” I added. “There's more than half a squad, and they can't be more than two kays from the edge of the Hydlenese camp lines.”

 

“Can you tell how many troopers are in the main body?” asked Yelena.

 

“Not from here. The camp looks about the same, though. Probably not more than ten- or fifteenscore.”

 

“Just between two and four times what we have. Enough to make it interesting,” mused Freyda.

 

“What about going through the trees, the way we planned?” asked the force leader, after a sharp look at Freyda, who had ignored the glance.

 

“It looks all right, but let me go a little farther.” I edged Gairloch off the clay to the left-the south side of the road- and through the scrub and cedars. My nose twitched at the acrid odor of winter leaves and the underlying pungency rising from the cedar fronds left beside the road by a Hydlenese firewood detail.

 

Just as I recalled, the slope was gentle, and the trees far enough apart for mounted troops, even with their larger horses, to pass easily. Without really trying, I could also feel the presence of the white wizard, the unseen chaos boiling out of the valley.

 

I was going to try to confine a white wizard more powerful than Antonin with a special order bound? And use order to turn chaos against him? Did I really have a choice?

 

When I returned, Yelena looked at me.

 

“It should work. There's no one stationed at the bottom of the rise, and you can't see the far south side of the first meadow from the road where the sentries are. The scattered trees on the rise reach almost to the plain where their tents are.”

 

Yelena looked at me. “Are the commander's main forces close enough to see us?”

 

“I can't tell from here. We'll have to get into the trees on the rise before I'll be able to tell.” I pursed my lips. “I'm sorry, but I can't sense things that far away.”

 

“... sorry he can't see more than a kay away over trees... glad he's on our side...”

 

I hoped the unknown trooper would feel that way later.

 

“We'll be exposed.”

 

I knew that, but there wasn't much else I could do. So I started Gairloch through the trees. Yelena must have motioned, because I could hear the sound of hoofs behind me. I kept Gairloch moving, slanting southward, until we emerged onto the meadow almost in the corner where the south valley walls started rising. There was a fine haze of dust rising behind us, and I hoped that no one happened to be looking closely in our direction, although the dust couldn't have been seen from the main camp. I rubbed my nose to keep from sneezing, as I sat on Gairloch and sent out my perceptions again.

 

The meadow and the trees beyond on the rise seemed clear, and I started across with Gairloch.

 

Yelena pulled up beside me. “You don't have to lead a charge.” Her tone was only partly serious.

 

“I think they have to see their wizard sticking out his scrawny neck.” I shrugged, trying to loosen the tightness in my shoulders. I could feel my stomach tightening as well.

 

“You will let my squads lead the charge on the Hydlenese?”

 

“Yes. I'll need to find a white wizard.”

 

I slowed halfway down the far side of the rise, where the trees and the shadows from the mid-afternoon sun were still thick enough to provide cover. Wood smoke from cook fires or something drifted our way, mixing with brimstone.

 

“Now?” asked Yelena.

 

“Hold on a moment.” After reining up Gairloch next to a cedar tree, perhaps the same one I had used more than an eight-day earlier, I sent out my perceptions, not toward the Hydlenese, but toward the road beyond, trying to find any sense of where Krystal and the main forces might be.

 

I thought I sensed some Kyphran scouts, but I couldn't tell. What I could tell was that there were a good five squads of lancers drawn up in a rough formation near the western exit to the valley, even beyond the far end of the valley where the brimstone springs flowed and the low stone buildings stood. There were only a dozen or so of the rocket carts, from what I could tell, and they were lined up at the western edge of the tent area, pointed roughly toward Kyphros, and toward where Krystal's forces would be if they left the cover of the gorge and reached the road.

 

Krystal had been right about that, and it would take time to turn the rockets back toward us, if they could be turned and moved at all during a quick attack.

 

I had another problem. If I couldn't hold off Gerlis with my order shields, was I willing to use order to funnel chaos to him? I let my perceptions drift below the valley, using the water flows, rather than the rocks, seeking that white-hot-redness of natural chaos.

 

The sweat beaded on my forehead. There was a lot of natural chaos, perhaps more than that focused in Gerlis. Did I want to try? Would I have any choice?

 

“Are you all right?” asked Weldein.

 

I nodded and took a deep breath. I also lied, and that didn't help the twisted feeling in my guts.

 

Yelena had drawn up the Finest and the outliers behind me in a rough line. Below us to the west of the rise was the flat plain where the tents of the Hydlenese forces were set out. Beyond where I watched lay the last part of the rise that dropped a good fifty cubits in less than half a kay.

 

“Well?” asked the force leader in a low voice.

 

“I think there are some scouts out there. The Hydlenese have about five squads stationed near the valley entrance, and they seem to be waiting.”

 

Yelena shifted her weight in the saddle and studied the flat beyond the rise. “That would leave ten squads standing down in the area around the tents.”

 

I waited.

 

Finally, she gave me a grim smile. “Can you keep the wizard out of our hair?”

 

“I can only try,” I admitted. “And I'll have to get a lot closer.”

 

“The opportunity's just too good.” She looked at me again. “Where are those devices?”

 

“At the west end of the tents. There aren't many Hydlenese around them right now.”

 

Yelena turned to Weldein and Jylla. “You two guard the order-master. Try to keep him out of too much trouble. He's going to find the white wizard.”

 

Weldein grunted.

 

“You're so generous to share the joy of single combat, Weldein,” murmured Jylla, her low voice carrying.

 

Yelena glanced down the hillside again. “We'll have to hit the troops they've got drawn up first, but I'll send the outliers through the tent area, and hold the second back.”

 

She rode toward a small thin subofficer and began to explain something, then rode on to another subofficer, and another, until she had covered all the squad leaders.

 

The first and third squads lined up quietly on the left, while the two squads of outliers formed up on my right. One squad of the Finest-the second-remained in the center behind the other four groups.

 

Yelena eased her mount up beside me. “Are you ready?”

 

I wasn't ready. My guts were twisted, and my heart was pounding. Reacting, as I had with the white wizard on the road, was much, much easier than deciding to ride down on an armed camp and a white wizard powerful enough to swat me aside like a fly.

 

I felt like the third wheel on a two-wheeled cart, better at watching, and only able to get in the way if I tried anything. But I had to try something.

 

“First and third. Now.” Yelena raised her hand, then dropped it.

 

The front four squads charged-except it wasn't a charge. There were no trumpet blasts, no yells, just horses trotting down through the scattered cedars and out onto the plain.

 

Yelena's troops moved out quickly, drawing well ahead of the rest, and leaving a fine cloud of dust that drifted toward us. I coughed, more than once, as I bounced along between Weldein and Jylla, slightly behind and to the left of the outliers. Their longer-legged beasts drew ahead of Gairloch and me. That was fine for me, trying as I was to locate Gerlis without alerting him. The location wasn't that hard, not with that tower of unseen white pouring from his pavilion tent near the far end of the encampment. Dust rose around me, and I tried not to cough.

 

My fingers gripped the reins in one hand and the staff in the other, although what good the staff might do was another question. My palms were sweaty, and my heart thumped faster than I thought it could.

 

Once on the browning grass, Yelena's squads pulled away toward the road, still quiet, and still trotting.

 

Then a single trumpet sounded, three quick blasts. The signal repeated itself, once and then again.

 

More than half the Hydlenese around the road hadn't fully turned when Yelena's squads hit them. By then, the outliers and I were almost on the tents, and the confused Hydlenese there.

 

Dust and more dust swirled up into my face, and my eyes stung, and my head swam because I was watching half with my eyes and half with my mind, and two sets of images flashed before me.

 

Somehow I'd gotten the staff into a pattern. I felt like I was flailing, except I saw one woman go down before her blade reached me, and I rocked back in the saddle, half turning before I could get Gairloch headed down the space between the low tents of the Hydlenese troopers and on toward the wizard's pavilion tent.

 

In the background, there were more trumpets, interspersed with heavy drum rolls, and yells, clashing metal, curses, and the screams of dying souls and horses.

 

Hhssttt! Hssstt!!!

 

Two firebolts spewed past me, close enough that I could feel their heat, close enough that I could smell singed hair and scorched flesh.

 

“Aeeiii...”

 

“...oh...”

 

Another firebolt hissed overhead, and I ducked. “Come on, old fellow.”

 

Wheee... eeee... Complaints or not, Gairloch cantered forward, and I lurched along with him.

 

“Follow the wizard... follow the wizard...”

 

Why Shervan was telling the outliers to follow me made no sense, but Gairloch had begun to canter. I could not only sense the wizard's tent, but see it.

 

“Follow the wizard...”

 

A distant wavering trumpet seemed to echo from the hills, just as another firebolt flared around the shields I hadn't realized I'd raised-not light shields, just the kind of order barriers I'd used against Antonin.

 

“Get the rockets! The rockets!”

 

At that cry, my eyes glanced beyond the wizard's tent.

 

A handful of men were using something like torches, and the smell of another kind of flame swirled through the tents to me.

 

With a whistling hiss, a rocket dug into the far hillside beyond Yelena's forces, and the brown grass began to burn out in a circle.

 

More rockets arched out into the west, toward the road to Kyphros.

 

The heat and sound of a wizard's firebolt jerked my eyes back to the white tent.

 

The next firebolt shivered against my staff, so hot and hard I almost dropped it. From the side two men in red tunics slashed toward me, while another half squad ran up from the left.

 

Two of the outliers spurred their mounts up on the right to shield me, and one went down under the brutal slash of the leading Hydlenese lancer. A spray of blood cascaded across my arm. My guts wrenched, and I dug my heels into Gairloch, although what I was doing charging with only a staff was another question. I recalled that I'd done it before, without a lot of success against such things as arrows.

 

More mounted Hydlenese appeared, all seemingly headed toward me, and it seemed as if Gerlis's tent were still kays away, as if Gairloch and I were hardly moving forward, as if I were making every motion through water, ever more slowly.

 

Whhhstttt... Whhhstttt... The line of fire from the rockets was so bright that my eyes followed them for a moment, and my mouth dropped open as they flared right through the center of the Hydlenese lines, one exploding almost at the crimson banner with the sign of the golden dagger.

 

Then I was trying to unseat another Hydlenese trooper, and the dust and noise swirled around me.

 

Half ducking, I deflected another firebolt. “ Second!” screamed a distant voice, and the trumpet called again.

 

Weldein slammed past me, slashing at a trooper I hadn't even seen, and the way to Gerlis's tent, less than fifty cubits ahead, cleared.

 

Through the cleared space, Gerlis hurled another firebolt, like a spear, one that flew wide of me, but the outlier on my left went up in flames, so quickly he or she didn't even scream.

 

I pulled aside another flaring and hissing firebolt, and through a gap in the dust and smoke I thought I saw the green leathers of the Finest-more of them-charging from the west. Gerlis turned, and another pair of firebolts flew-not toward me, but toward the Finest-and Krystal.

 

I urged Gairloch forward, toward the wizard, somehow throwing what seemed to be a bolt of pure order at Gerlis.

 

I was less than twenty cubits from the tent when the figure in white turned.

 

“Oh, the little black mage!” Gerlis seemed ten cubits tall, and he smiled as he leveled his hand at me. HHHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSTTTTT!

 

A line of white fire burned at me, and flared around my shields, almost crumpling them and halting Gairloch in his tracks.

 

“You foolish little black mage...” I didn't feel like answering. I just held my seat on Gairloch with my sweaty knees, holding my staff in slippery sweaty hands, again urging Gairloch forward.

 

Another massive firebolt, almost a wall of flame, slammed toward us. That blast staggered even Gairloch, and my staff went flying.

 

I tried to reach the chaos deep below the valley, using my own shields to channel it toward Gerlis, not less than twenty cubits from me, across a gulf that seemed a kay wide and even deeper, though the gulf had to be only in my mind.

 

“... shouldn't do that, little mage...”

 

And it seemed as though I should not have, for he seemed to tower out of the tent, standing shimmering there as the white canvas burned away, lifting his hand toward me.

 

“Save the wizard!”

 

A blade-a cold iron blade-went flying by me, spinning end over end, and it seemed to turn ever so slowly as it arched toward Gerlis.

 

His eyes flickered from me to the blade, and another flash of flame darted toward the spinning blade.

 

With a shrieking hiss, the blade was gone, and my whole body rocked, as though I'd been picked up by the wind and smashed against a stone wall. I had to blink through burning eyes, but I was still in one piece, if barely breathing, and still moving toward Gerlis.

 

Frantically, I tried to channel more of that awful chaos toward him, without being too tainted by it...

 

... he took it, greedy for the power it held.

 

Another fireball flared past me toward an outlier.

 

“Aeeeiiiii... save...”

 

The whiteness of death rolled around me, as another trooper screamed, and my knees clutched Gairloch more tightly, but he stepped forward, carrying me on a platform as stolid as a rock, and I wanted to hug him and cower, all at the same time, even as I used my last vestiges of order control to smooth the path of chaos to Gerlis.

 

I never even saw the blade of the Wizard's guard, but Weldein did, and he parried it, and riposted, or whatever it's called, and another body tumbled into the dust.

 

Around me, I could feel the disjointed rhythm of blades hacking, chopping. Grunts, screams, yells, and curses, loud as they were, seemed to retreat as I struggled with order and chaos.

 

More rockets flared in the background, out toward the west, although some fell far short of the Finest.

 

I threw the last of my own order bolts at Gerlis, tempting him to call on that awful power, and he grinned an awful grin, sucking in that power, and looming out of the ground as though he wielded all the power of the deep earth's chaos.

 

HHHSSTTTTT...... CRRRRRUUUMPPTTTT!

 

The whole valley groaned, and the earth heaved, and I went flying out of my saddle, and a sheet of flame cascaded toward me. I tried to raise a shield, or I thought I did. It didn't stop the ground from coming up hard. I lay there, with white fire burning through my leg.

 

Under me, the ground heaved, and tents and their poles swayed, the canvas in flames. Brimstone mists sheeted across the sky, and brimstone rain began to fall-instantly.

 

Gairloch whinnied and pawed at the ground, somewhere.

 

The whole valley seemed to heave and spin, in time to a distant trumpet, spinning like the iron blade that had momentarily saved my life, and I thought I heard a faint voice saying, “So much for the Balance.”

 

The blackness came down like instant night, like an avalanche of sleep that burned through every bone in my body. I tried to scream, but the words froze in my mind and my throat... and I could feel myself falling into a deep gulf, the gulf of chaos.

 

 

 

 

 

L. E. Modesitt, Jr.'s books