The Death of Chaos

5.Death of Chaos

 

 

 

 

 

LXXXV

 

 

 

 

I SEEMED TO be moving more quickly up the road to Felsa than on my descent, but whether that was because of the escort or because I was committed to getting myself into more trouble was another question I wasn't sure I really wanted to answer. The older I got, the more questions like that seemed to pop up.

 

The sun was hot, and the road was dusty, with the red dust clinging to everything. Gairloch plodded along, keeping right up with the bigger mounts carrying Weldein, Berli, and Fregin.

 

To the left, beyond the low wall on the edge of the road, the cliff dropped down to the narrow line of silver that was the Phroan River. Ahead, I could see the mist spilling out of the Gateway Gorge, just as it had only a few days before. The one thing about the burning summer heat of Kyphros was that there weren't that many flies-and no mosquitoes, except near the rivers and ponds, and there weren't that many of either.

 

Weldein rode beside me, and he hadn't said much. I had noticed that his once-long blond hair was shorter, much shorter, more military. Somehow, Weldein had also become more military, more focused. Perhaps the times were forcing that kind of change on all of us.

 

He glanced at me, then up the road.

 

“I know. It's a fool's errand.” I forced a grin at him. “But it's a chance to get out of Ruzor and away from the bugs.”

 

After a long moment, he grinned back. “You always know how to cheer a man, Master Lerris.”

 

“Yes, me and my trusty staff.” I pulled it from the lanceholder and twirled it a bit. Then I put it back in the holder and shifted my weight in the saddle. When I did, I saw that Berli and Fregin had ridden up closer behind us, as if they wanted to hear the conversation.

 

Wheeee... eeee...

 

“I know it's hot,” I muttered to Gairloch, “and it's going to get hotter before we reach the Gorge.”

 

“I'd forgotten how you talk to your pony.”

 

“Why not? He doesn't argue back, at least not much, and he goes where we have to.”

 

“The pony carried him against-what-three wizards?” Weldein offered the statement to Berli and Fregin.

 

Khhhcherwww... “Demon's dust,” muttered Fregin.

 

“Two, actually.” I rubbed my own nose to keep from sneezing. “I tied him up when I went into Antonin's castle.”

 

“You walked into a chaos wizard's castle on foot?” asked Berli.

 

“I know better now.” I shrugged.

 

“Was that when you rescued the... the redheaded mage?” Weldein had a glint in his eye.

 

“Yes. I wasn't sure she was there, but I had to do something.” I wiped my forehead. Dry or not, I was still sweating.

 

“What about the time you rescued Haithen? Didn't you charge into a whole squad of Gallosians?”

 

“Someone had to do something.” I didn't mention that I hadn't exactly meant to charge the white wizard. The idiot wouldn't let me try to avoid him.

 

Kkkchewww,.. Fregin sneezed again. “Wish you could do something about this friggin' dust.”

 

Berli laughed for a moment, then said sweetly, “I take it, Weldein, that you are trying to let us know that Master Lerris is both more formidable and more dangerous than he looks?”

 

“I'm not sure I'm all that dangerous, but being around me could be.”

 

“I was at the brimstone spring,” said Berli.

 

“What brimstone spring?” asked Fregin.

 

Berli shook her head.

 

Fregin sneezed once more. “... friggin' dust...”

 

I wiped my forehead once more, hoping that it wouldn't be too long before we reached the Gorge. Even a short period of mist and cool would be welcome.

 

I tried not to think about the days and days ahead.

 

 

 

 

 

L. E. Modesitt, Jr.'s books