The Death of Chaos (19 page)

   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.

THE CRACCCCKKKK OF lightning snapped through my ears.

   With a deep roaring, the earth seemed to move under me, and the rain poured down, but I could not move.

   My left leg seemed snapped, and I could not lift my right arm. I smelled singed hair, and flesh, and feared that it was mostly mine. My breath came in little gasps, and each gasp seared fire into my lungs.

   I opened my eyes, at least for a moment, and screamed, because the white fire of chaos burned them, and that awful white darkness reached out of the earth and seized me, and dragged me back into the depths where the earth roiled and churned around me.

   Later, someone in green leathers stood over me, and looked for a long time, or so it seemed. It wasn't Krystal. My eyes burned, and I still couldn't see. The air was damp, and I could hear rain.

   I didn't recall anything after that until I woke, lying or riding on a cart of some sort, and every sway and creak of the wheels hurt.

   I could hear the rain on a canvas over me, and some of it slipped under the cart's awning and cooled my face. The canvas flapped and cracked like a whip, and the sound slashed my ears.

   “You awake?” asked someone.

   I tried to open my eyes, but that blinding whiteness threatened to creep in. Then I tried to speak, but all that came out was a croak. I tried again. “Yes.”

   “Tell the commander he's awake.”

   I think I dozed for a moment.

   “Lerris... Lerris...”

   “Mmmmm...” I tried to swallow. “Water...”

   I got a trickle of greenberry or something, but it was enough.

   “Can you hear me?”

 
  Krystal's voice seemed to echo and come through layers of blankets wrapped around me, but she was there.

   “Yes.” I nodded, too, but the effort was too much, and I dropped under the white blackness.

   When I woke again, I was still on the damned cart, but it wasn't raining, and the cold wind felt good on my face. I felt as if I were burning up, and I knew I ought to be doing something with order to heal myself, but I couldn't. I opened my eyes, and they only burned.

   Krystal was there. Maybe she hadn't left, but she was riding beside the cart.

   “Sorry...” I mumbled.

   “Oh, Lerris... you're sorry?” She bent down in the saddle, and her fingertips brushed my forehead. They felt cool and good.

   “What...happened?”

   “Yelena cut down half the lancers on the road. Their own rockets got most of the rest. You... the white wizard... there wasn't much left. Maybe two score of the Hydlenese survived.”

   “Shervan... saved me,” I mumbled. “Threw his sword...”

   The cart bounced again, and the knives shot through me for a moment.

   “... good for something,” mumbled Jylla from beyond Krystal. Her arm was strapped tight to her body, and her face was a mass of red lines and bruises. The upper tip of her ear was missing.

   I didn't see Freyda.

   “... the spring...” I still was having trouble talking and seeing.

   “Don't talk. Please don't talk. I'm right here.”

   I thought that was funny, and I wanted to laugh. The commander riding beside the wounded wizard. Commanders should be in charge, I thought.

   “... spring...” I gasped.

   “We took it back. There's more brimstone than ever, and some of it keeps spouting into the sky...”

   I must have slipped off because I didn't hear anything more.

   After that, I kept waking up on the cart, and not being able to say anything.

   Krystal was there, and she was crying, and I had never seen her cry, and then I couldn't say anything anyway because it hurt so much just to breathe.

   I did wake up again, and I was in a bed in a big room, and there was light everywhere, and I felt like I was burning alive.

   Justen was looking down at me.

   “... how... ?” I croaked.

   “When you do something, you make enough of a dent in the order-chaos fabric to ring the whole world like a bell. I was already on my way back. Now... let me work.”

   “... wrong...” It still hurt to breathe and talk, but not so much.

   “Outside of a leg with two snapped bones,, chaos infections, bruises on every muscle in your body, a broken rib that almost got your lungs-not much.”

   He seemed to age, even as he looked and worked on me.

   “Demon-hell time to have to do order-chaos balances... idiot nephew...”

   I thought about thanking him, but even my thanks wouldn't have been pleasant to his ears. Where had he been when I was taking on Gerlis? I never got the words out, though, but passed out or slept or both.

   When I finally did wake up, Rissa was sitting there, and she had deep circles under her eyes.

   “Rissa...” I managed to croak.

   “It's about time, Master Lerris.” She leaned over me holding a cup, and her words seemed to come from a long ways away. “The old mage says that you have to drink this stuff if you wish to live.” I drank. Whatever it was tasted vile and smelled worse. But I drank. I lay there for a time, I think, but apparently drinking had exhausted me, because I went back to sleep.

   The next time I woke Krystal was there. She looked as if she had .been facing the demons of light.

   “... love... you...” I managed, not wanting to waste words, wondering if I had many left.

   She put both hands on the sides of my face, gently, and kissed my forehead. “I know, and I love you.” Then she had the damned cup in her hand.“You need to drink as much of this as you can.”

   So I did, and I didn't fall asleep. I just looked at her. She wore the green shirt and leathers, but not the vest, and the shirt was wrinkled, and her eyes were tired.

   She looked at me, and finally she smiled. “Do you want some more to drink?”

   “No. Will... though...”

   She held the cup steady with one hand, and my good hand with her other, and I drank, and I thought it helped. Then she sat beside me and held my hand until I fell asleep again.

Never shall darkness nor light prevail, for one must balance the other; yet many of light will seek to banish darkness, and a multitude shall seek to cloak the light; but the balance will destroy all who seek the full ends of darkness and light.

   Then shall a woman rule the parched fields and dry groves of the reformed Kyphros and the highlands of Analeria and the enchanted hills; and all matters of wonders shall come to pass.

   In the fullness of time, both order and chaos shall rise again. Those who seek order shall follow chaos, and those who follow chaos shall seek order, and none shall know which path to tread.

   The sword called knowledge shall be unsheathed, and scholars and soldiers shall both proclaim its virtue and trumpet how it shall bring prosperity out of want, and plenty out of drought. Yet its blade will cut deep into the land and burn into the heavens, and many will turn from its terrors unto their own weapons.

   Terrible indeed shall be those weapons-one shall be like unto the swords of the stars that are suns, and another like unto the lances of winter and yet another like unto the mirrored towers raised by the demons of light.

   Dark ships shall speed upon the waters, and destruction shall fall from the heavens, shattering the greatest of walls, and even the weakest of those who bear arms shall strike with the force of firebolts...

         The Book of Ryba Canto DL

         [The Last]

         Original Text

Part II - FINDING KNOWLEDGE

The Black Holding, Land's End [Recluce]

“DID YOU FEEL what happened in Hydlen?” Heldra steps onto the ancient terrace.

   “Yes, and I didn't like the feel of it.” Talryn walks along the wall that edges the terrace.

   “It felt ugly, but Candar's always been a mess.” Heldra glances from the black stones cut centuries earlier to the oak that spreads far above the terrace and then to Talryn, who nods.

   “Why are we here?” asks Maris.

   “Because this is the Founders' Shrine and because the rules of the Council say we have to meet here once a season.”

   “It's creepy, like Creslin's looking over my shoulder.” Maris turns toward the ancient house, its stones still crisp and locked in order.

   “That's the idea. What we do is supposed to reflect their ideals.”

   “That was a thousand years ago. This is now.” Maris sniffs.

   “As Heldra pointed out,” responds Talryn, “some things don't change. Candar is still a mess. There's a lot of chaos floating free. Lerris did something to Gerlis. There's no chaos focus left there. We've had order and chaos focuses for that whole time, and we still don't have a good way to deal with them.”

   “Pretty spot. I can see why Megaera liked it.” Heldra turns from viewing the Eastern Ocean. “Lerris did a lot more than something. I can still sense the reverberations.”

   “So what will happen?” Maris studies the window and peers into the old Council Room. He shivers.

   Talryn shrugs. “I suspect that Berfir will cede the spring and some land to the autarch. At some time in the future, once he's trounced Colaris with his rocket carts, he'll repudiate the agreement and try to take it back.”

   “You think the autarch will let him? And what if Colaris finds some new tricks of his own? They really want that Ohyde Valley back.” Maris still peers through the window at the old Council Room. “Is that blade Creslin's?”

   “Yes. This is your first time here, isn't it?”

   Maris nods.

   “They say he never wore that blade after he destroyed the great white fleet. Probably just another old tale.” Heldra pauses. “I've held the blade, though. There's... something...there.”

   “Maybe. You and your blades.” Maris fingers his beard. “You might be right. Truth is sometimes harder to believe than lies. What about Cassius? Who would believe a man from another-what does he call it?-another universe... coming through an order/chaos flaw? He's here, though. What if Lerris created something like that? What if the next visitor isn't so friendly?”

   “Those things don't happen often.” Talryn half laughed.

   “Then there's Sammel. Antonin, Gerlis, Sammel, Lerris, and that doesn't even include Justen and Tamra.”

   “Sammel?” Heldra opens the door and holds it. “What about him? His problem is that he loves knowledge more than order. That's not exactly the same as Antonin or Gerlis, who were out to create chaos for their own power.”

   “He's setting himself up as something.” Talryn follows Heldra inside the Black Holding. “Have you heard from the black squads?”

   “No. That bothers me a bit.”

   “A bit?” asks Maris. “How many did you send?”

   “Just two, with the rocket guns. They didn't have to get close.”

   Talryn frowns. “I can still sense Sammel. We may have a problem there.”

   “He might be a bigger problem than young Lerris, a much bigger problem,” suggests Maris. “And what if this war between Berfir and Colaris drags on? And what if Sammel and Lerris and Justen and Tamra all get involved? Then what do we do?”

   “Candar-always a mess. What else has happened there since the fall of Frven? Justen destroyed the old white empire, and melted it into slag, and it didn't affect us. We can certainly handle this one. We'll let Colaris and Berfir fight it out, and I'll take a squad after Sammel personally.” Heldra closes the outside door, and then leads the way to the black oak door to the old Council chamber. “I'm more worried about the growth of machines and all those new ships in Hamor... and that steel that's nearly as good as black iron.”

   “You just don't want to admit you were wrong about Sammel,” says Maris.

   Heldra's hand eases around the hilt of the blade.

   “Just joking,” adds Maris quickly.