5.Death of Chaos
XCII
BY THE MORNING, I felt better. Still creaky, still sore, still bruised, and still smelling like burned clothing and hair. My eyes burned, mostly, rather than stabbing all the time-but I could use my order senses... barely. In some ways, certainly, Krystal had been right. Being a hero-or even a second-rate wizard with an idea-definitely had disadvantages.
After eating and washing up in a clear pool of rainwater, I changed into my other shirt. Then, the three of us worked to set Fregin's leg so that it could be splinted. I had just enough order strength left to drive out the worst of the chaos. I sat down and rested after that. Later, it took both Weldein and me to get Fregin into the saddle, where he sat looking morose.
“Cheer up,” said Weldein. “One broken leg for stopping the armies of Hamor. You're a hero, and we won't even tell that you were hit by a boulder.”
His words, everyone's really, were still far away, and I really had to concentrate to make them out.
“Thanks. It wasn't your leg.”
“The rain took care of the dust,” offered Berli. “You won't have to sneeze all the way back.”
“So friggin' cheerful you are, Berli.”
“Like you said, Fregin, it wasn't my leg.”
Weldein looked at me as the ground trembled.
“It's going to keep doing that, I'm afraid.” As I rubbed my forehead, I could feel the stiffness in my shoulders. “There's probably more chaos than ever under Candar.”
“After all that fire yesterday?”
“All that happened was that Sammel and I fought over control of chaos. We really didn't do anything to change how much there was. Not very much anyway, unless a few of the Hamorian rifles were destroyed, and even a few hundred wouldn't amount to much with the tens of thousands they've created.”
“The rifles are a creation of chaos? I knew it,” grumbled Fregin.
“No.” I sighed. “The rifles are a mechanical creation of order by Hamor. Creating more order also creates more chaos. That's why Recluce has opposed machines for centuries.”
“Shit. We're in big friggin' trouble then, with all those machines Hamor's buildin'.” His words were still far-off sounding.
“That's a fair statement.” I had to agree with Fregin's conclusion. I felt like shit, and I really hadn't done that much, except postpone the seemingly inevitable invasion by Hamor. Leithrrse would probably try something else, although what that might be was another question I hadn't had time to consider.
Weldein and Berli looked at me.
“Oh... we're heading back to Ruzor. It should take several eight-days for Hamor to backtrack and even get into Gallos- longer if they want to slog through the Easthorns directly.” Personally, I doubted that Leithrrse was dumb enough to take an army through the Easthorns without using some form of road, and all the other roads to Kyphros led through either Gallos or Hydlen.
I nudged Gairloch, and he started forward gently. My back still twinged.
We had almost reached the crossroad to Yryna when I saw two mounted figures riding toward us-one on a pony, and one with red hair.
“It's Justen-and Tamra.” I wiped my forehead. The brief rain of the night before hadn't done anything to reduce the midday heat.
“You've done it this time, Lerris,” Justen grumped at me, even before we got within ten cubits.
“Done what?” I reined up, trying to ignore the half-stabbing, half-burning behind my eyes.
He studied me for a moment. Then he shook his head silently.
“Oh, darkness...” Tears were actually flowing down Tamra's cheeks.
I shook my head. “I'm all right.”
“No... no, you're not,” Tamra choked out. “You...just look... at yourself.”
Weldein glanced from me to Tamra, then back to me. He tried to keep his face immobile, but I could sense he was disturbed, but I couldn't tell why.
Finally, I looked at Justen.
Justen rumbled with his pack, twisting in his saddle, and finally bringing out a mirror. “Look into this, Lerris.”
The image in the mirror wore the same browns as I did, but the man's face was heavier, somehow, and he was definitely a man. Faint traces of gray touched his temples, and his shoulders were broader. The man looked like me, but was at least a good ten years older. I wiggled my shoulders. So did the image in the mirror, and the fabric felt tight across my own shoulders, and the tunic had been loose when Deirdre made it, loose from my recovery after the fight with Gerlis, and even when I had set out.
“That's not me. That's some kind of magic.” Except I knew it wasn't, especially when I looked at Justen.
“Anyone but you would have died of old age,” he said. “Even you can't use order to channel chaos without paying a price.”
The ground rocked gently again, but not so strongly as before, and I could tell the chaos tremors were beginning to subside.
“You never do things by halves, do you?” asked Justen. “There's still chaos welling up.”
“I haven't been given much choice.”
Justen looked like he might dispute that, but instead, he gestured back toward the pile of stone and rubble already in the distance. “I presume you blocked the road?”
I nodded. “I doubt anyone will unblock it soon.”
“No one'll ever unblock it,” snapped Fregin.
Everyone looked at the trooper.
“Well, they won't. He sealed the place with the fires of the demons' hell.”
Justen raised his eyebrows. “Just how much chaos did you use?”
“A lot,” I admitted. “I channeled it through order.”
He shook his head. “You may be the greatest gray wizard ever, but if you keep this up, you won't last a season.”
I sat there for a second, half stunned by the matter-of-fact statement by my uncle. He'd brought down Fairhaven, and he was telling me that I might be the greatest gray wizard ever?
“Don't you see?” asked Tamra.“Even with all that power, you can't save yourself from the touches of chaos.”
“I'm getting that impression.” And I was, but the problem was that no one else seemed to be able to do much to stop Hamor, and everything I did pushed me farther into the gray, and that meant I was stuck in Candar, and that meant more use of order and chaos, and that meant... I shook my head. It ached, more than I'd realized. Me, a great gray wizard? It didn't help the aches, or the seeing that hurt, or the sometimes-fading hearing.
“You know that pile of rock won't stop Hamor?” said Tamra.
“I know. They'll probably attack Gallos next.”
“Why do you think that?” asked Justen, whose face held a bitterly amused smile.
“It's about the only way they can get to Kyphros.”
“Why would they want Kyphros... at least now?”
I had to shrug. “Isn't it obvious?”
“I don't think so.” Justen wiped his forehead. It was hot, and still getting hotter. “We can talk as we ride.” He turned Rosefoot around. “You're going back to Ruzor?”
“Yes. I can't do much more here. Not now.”
“No, you can't.” He laughed, but there was an ironic undertone.
Tamra and Weldein rode behind us, side by side, and close, as if they were straining to hear. I could have laughed, because I was straining also.
“Friggin' heat,” mumbled Fregin from the rear.
“Stop complaining. You're a hero now,” said Berli. “Act like it.”
Justen said nothing for nearly a kay, even when the ground trembled with the unease of the chaos beneath Candar.
Finally I asked him, since he wasn't going to say anything unless prompted, “Why do you think Hamor won't attack Gallos?”
“Because it would be stupid, and the Hamorians aren't stupid. Greedy, yes. Warlike. But not stupid.”
“All right. Why would attacking Gallos be stupid?” Ahead, heat waves danced across the side road to Yryna. “Did you come down the crossroad there?”
Justen turned in his saddle. “Yes. You did a good job of removing the illusion, but you certainly didn't conceal that you'd done it.”
“It was rather obvious,” added Tamra.
“Everything's obvious to you two, but neither one of you seems to be around when something has to be done.”
“No... we were healing sheep and finding out what was going to happen, and trying to warn the Viscount,” answered Tamra. “Then you showed up, and killed off another white wizard without learning anything except how to make a bigger mess.”
I had to admit she was right about that. The ground still heaved, and I hadn't really stopped Hamor-just delayed one army and probably made Leithrrse madder, but I was stubborn enough that I didn't want to admit it-not then. I just closed my eyes for a time, and that helped a little.
We passed the crossroad in silence and kept riding.
I had to ask again. “It may be obvious, but why would attacking-”
Justen sighed. “Think about it. If Hamor can open the old road here, then they can march right into Kyphros without attacking Gallos. They can use their fleet on Ruzor, and force the autarch to spread her forces. If they take Worrak, then they could use the passes through the Lower Easthorns as well. Without the old road-”
“That means fighting someone else,” I said. “But Hamor's out to take all of Candar anyway.”
“You should have noticed,” said Justen, “that they try to attack at one point at a time. They haven't attacked Kyphros yet.”
“Then, there's the problem of Recluce,” put in Tamra, adding more that I didn't hear.
Justen frowned, but said nothing.
“What?” I asked, turning to concentrate on her words.
“Lerris...” Tamra sounded exasperated. “The Hamorians have been losing ships to Recluce. You just stopped an army and probably killed at least several hundred troops, and they have to know you're from Recluce. They're going to think Recluce is behind all of their troubles.”
I nodded. “Oh, did you know that the Brotherhood-or someone-got the Hamorian regent?” I asked, rather than directly telling Tamra and Justen. After all, Justen wasn't volunteering much, just silently judging me.
“They did?” he answered. “Well, that just makes it worse. The idiots.”
“They also sank some ships-the iron-clad warships.”
“I knew that.” Justen looked at me. “Tamra was right. They know both of you are from Recluce.”
“So you're saying that they're going to see Recluce as playing the same old manipulating game?” I asked.
“If you read the histories, you might recall that the white wizards tricked Hamor into attacking Creslin-twice. It cost them a great deal, and I doubt they have ever forgotten.” His words wavered, but I got them.
“You're saying that Hamor wants both Recluce and Candar,” I said flatly,“and that they'll take the tools wherever they can-whatever tools they can.”
“Brilliant,” added Tamra.
“Thanks,” I said. “You seem to be saying that Hamor will be worried about Recluce, but they have to know Sammel was from Recluce, and he was on their side,” I pointed out.
“What about all the devices Hamor and the dukes were using? They were Sammel's doing, weren't they?” asked Tamra.
“Really, how much good did Sammel's devices do Hamor?” asked Justen. “The devices stirred up chaos, and they probably made the conquest of Hydlen a lot harder and bloodier, but Hamor could have taken over Freetown and Montgren anyway.”
“Without Sammel's knowledge?” asked Tamra. “Then why was he with them? And why did he decide to help them?”
“Hamor has always been opportunistic. Wouldn't you rather enlist an ally than have a wizard who might turn unfriendly?” Justen rubbed his chin and shifted in the saddle.
“That explains Hamor,” Tamra pointed out. “But what about Sammel?”
Justen looked at me.
“I don't know,” I began, “but he delivered a little speech asking me to help him overthrow Recluce's hold on knowledge. He said he wanted to bring that knowledge to the 'starving world' or something like that. When I didn't accept his generous offer, he started throwing firebolts.”
“Knowledge doesn't feed people,” snorted Tamra. “Food does.”
“That was just an excuse,” I answered. “He was angry because...” I didn't finish the sentence. Sammel had been angry for the same reasons I had been, because Recluce had insisted I find my own answers, rather than laying them out. And I was still angry, but not angry enough to turn to chaos.
“Because?” prompted Tamra.
“He thought Recluce didn't have any business hiding knowledge.” I patted Gairloch on the neck, and he whuffed back.
“There have been a few reasons for that policy,” Justen added. “At least it's taken Hamor some centuries before they could build all those ships.”
In a way that made sense, but why hadn't anyone wanted to explain why? I almost shook my head. Of course, the explanation would have revealed the existence of the knowledge to every dangergelder for centuries, and made Recluce even more of a target.
“You still didn't answer my question about the magic devices,” said Tamra. “Recluce certainly didn't supply them.”
Justen looked at me, and I looked at Justen. Then I nodded to him. He knew more than I did, and he could explain.
We rode a while longer, and I wiped my forehead.
“Friggin' heat,” muttered Fregin. “No damned wizard... leg hurts.”
“Just keep riding, hero,” said Berli.
I looked over at Justen. “Devices? Recluce? Were they something you thought up, years back?”
“No. Recluce didn't make a one, except for the rockets.” He laughed sadly. “Some of them Hamor developed by itself, and most of the others were based on ideas Sammel just stole from the hidden shelves of the Brotherhood libraries. Maybe Hamor stole the ideas from the Brotherhood, too. It's certainly possible.”
Tamra flushed. “Hidden shelves? Those... those hypocrites.”
Justen went on. “I suppose you've guessed something like this, Lerris, but did you know that there's a whole section on inventions and ideas that Dorrin developed?”
I hadn't guessed, but I wasn't about to admit it. So I nodded.
“Dorrin?” Tamra's eyes flickered from me to Justen.
“The founder of Nylan-the magic engineer.”
“What about you?” Tamra's voice almost cracked. “Is Lerris right?”
“Me? In a way, but most of the ideas were there before I was bom. I can't say I was much better, except I didn't write it down to hide in the libraries.” Justen wiped his forehead. “I did manage to develop a system to focus order.”
“That was how you brought down Frven?” I asked.
Justen nodded, then added, “And destroyed about half the order and chaos in the world. That's why the Brotherhood didn't want any more machines. They concentrate and build order, and the Balance allows more chaos then.”
Behind me, Weldein swallowed. Berli and Fregin just rode, and I couldn't tell whether they looked puzzled... or if they were even listening.
“You were an engineer-smith?” asked Tamra.
“Yes.”
“What else did you build?” I asked. “Besides the device to focus order that destroyed Frven?”
“Not much. Wasn't that enough?” Justen shrugged. “I suppose I should add, while I'm confessing, that I also built a land-engine that crossed Candar faster than the fastest horses. It used the same sort of turbine that the Mighty Ten had, except it was smaller. It was the only one ever built, and Lerris's father helped me.”
That did follow, unfortunately. My father was probably the only one Justen could have trusted.
“And you helped them keep all that hidden?” asked Tamra. “Why?”
“So much knowledge. So much of it could have made life easier for people. But it isn't that simple. It never is.” Justen spread his hands. “And what did we all do? We hid it away. Recluce did it because the Council members honestly thought that limiting order-based knowledge would limit chaos. And I? Well, I tried to help Candar stop the festering of chaos... and it worked for a while.”
“Until someone in Hamor figured out that the Balance works both ways?” I asked.
Justen nodded. “Now things will have to change, and I don't imagine anyone will be happy with the results.” He gestured at me. “Look at you, Lerris. Was stopping Hamor worth ten or fifteen years of your life? It might be more, you know. How much order is it taking to hold your appearance?”
I thought. Was I using order? Finally, after trying to study myself, I opened my eyes again. “None.”
“That's good. But what about the next time?”
I didn't have an answer, but for the moment, at least Krystal wouldn't have to worry about looking older than her consort. Then again, I'd hear about being a hero. As I thought about it, I realized that Krystal was likely to be less than thrilled. In fact, she could be very upset. I took a deep breath. Everything was getting more and more complicated.
Tamra brushed her hair off her forehead. Weldein looked at Tamra, then away. Fregin mumbled something I couldn't hear as we rode westward toward the crossroad for Tellura. I closed my eyes and let Gairloch carry me, because my eyes were filled with white fire from the effort to hear and read lips.
Beneath us, the ground trembled, ever so slightly, as a reminder that order and chaos remained far out of balance.