The Death of Chaos (35 page)

I HAD SKETCHED out the plans for Wegel's room, and gone over them with him before I went back to work on Antona's desk. “I'll help when you need it, but it's basically your job.”

   Wegel had just nodded.

   “ You're going to do most of the work.”

   “F-f-fine.”

   “Now... let's get on with this. While I'm setting up, you can bring the fire up and sweep out the sawdust and small scraps.”

   He looked at the floor and then at me.

   “I know. It's cleaner than most places, but I like it cleaner than that. It also means that we don't get sawdust in the glue and that we're not sneezing nearly as much. Besides, I get upset when things aren't neat.”

   Wegel shrugged and limped over to the corner alcove where the broom was racked on pegs.

   I checked the plans again, and then began planing and smoothing the next set of drawer guides for the left pedestal. I kept glancing at Wegel, but he seemed to work with a will. An apprentice? It was hard to believe.

   Wegel had just finished with the hearth and the sweeping when the enclosed gray carriage with the matched chestnuts rolled across the drying mud of the yard and stopped outside the walk to the shop. No insignia marked the glassed door, but I knew who the occupant had to be.

   The driver and the guard wore heavy quilted jackets. The guard still carried the crossbow, but also a blade and a heavy pistol. A long spear was set in a holder behind his shoulder. I'd seen more pistols in the last eight-days than I had in years, and I didn't like what that foreshadowed. If people were using more pistols, it meant that firearms were working better, and that meant more order in the world. Somehow, I felt that had something to do with the groaning chaos beneath Candar, but how had I really had enough time to figure it out?

   Antona stepped out, not wearing the fur coat I had half expected, but a long green quilted coat.

   “Lady Antona...” I bowed. After all, she had commissioned a fifty-gold desk set.

   “Master Lerris?” She laughed. “Must you persist in according me undeserved honors?”

   “Any customer is due honors.”

   “Especially when one has not delivered?” she asked mildly, the stone-gray eyes raking over me.

   “Especially.”

   She walked toward the shop, and I walked beside her, not really having any choice. I could have trailed her, but that didn't appeal to me.

   “You're no longer limping.”

   “Not until I get tired.” I opened the door for her.

   She looked around the shop, and then at Wegel, who was refilling the moisture pot.

   “That Faslik's boy?”

   “Yes. That's Wegel. I've been looking for an apprentice for awhile.”

   “Good help is hard to find... even in my enterprises. Or perhaps I should say, especially in my enterprises.” The coat fell partly open in the warmth of the shop, and I caught a glimpse of the same green silk shirt, or another like it, the brushed gray leather trousers and vest.

   “Since I am not familiar with your enterprises...” I inclined my head without finishing the sentence.

   “Every business takes help and talent.” Her eyes took in Wegel. “You choose carefully, don't you?”

   An odd comment, since she clearly knew of Wegel, and his misshapen foot and limp were obvious as he carried the bucket back to the shelf in the corner and racked it.

   “I try, Lady.”

   “What do you have to show me?”

   “Not so much as I would like, as I suspect you know.” I led her toward the flat board at the end of the bench that served for my plans and rough drafting. It took a moment, but I lifted out the plans and the sketches.

   “You have only sketches?” Again, her voice was mild.

   “No.” I laughed. “But I want to show you how it is being put together, and the sketches help.”

   I smoothed the papers on the flat wood.“Cherry is not quite so heavy as oak or lorken, but it is not a light wood, either, and the proper internal structure and braces are important. Here are the four main internal beams for the pedestal-it's the same on each side. Each has to be notched just so, and-”

   “I think I can see that.”

   “Fine.” I walked to the corner where her piece was taking shape, more slowly than I would have liked. “Here are the pedestals...”

   “They look like the drawing.”

   I certainly hoped so.

   “What will you do next?”

   “The drawers.”

   “Why don't you do the top part first?”

   “That comes next. In a way, I have to do the fronts of the drawers and the top together. That's so all the grains match.” I nodded toward the wood racks. “There is the wood...”

   “That looks like more than you'll need.”

   “It is, and it isn't. You're paying for a perfect piece, or as perfect as I can make it.” When she offered a faint smile at the term “perfect piece,” I tried not to hesitate. “That takes more wood, because I want to keep the grain widths the same on all the exposed surfaces. It sometimes takes a while to select the wood. Good crafting starts with good wood.”

   Behind Antona, Wegel nodded.

   “Everything starts with good material.” Antona smiled. “I learned that early enough.”

   Not knowing what to say, exactly, I just nodded.

   “You have managed better than I would have expected, given the reports of your exploits, Master Lerris. Have you other exploits planned?” Her eyebrows lifted.

   “I have no others planned, but I didn't have the last set planned, either. I must bow to the needs of the autarch.”

   “And her commander, no doubt.” She smiled. “Wise man.”

   How wise I really might be was another question, but I nodded and followed her back out to the coach and waited until it was out of sight and headed back to Kyphrien.

   After that, I went back to drawer guides, and explaining what I was doing to Wegel. Then I let him work on possible ideas for carving the A for a while before we took a break for a midday meal, which we shared with Kilbon, who had stopped by to deliver some potatoes, except we all knew he'd come for more than potatoes. Wegel and I left Rissa and Kilbon in the kitchen.

   By mid-afternoon, I finished the last of the drawer guides on the left side. Since I was getting bored-I still did sometimes-I decided to take on Durrik's chest for a change.

   “Wegel. I'm going to work on these.” I pointed to the blanks that would become drawer fronts for Durrik's chest. “There's not much for you to do. So you can start on the framing for your room. You'll have to lay the sills...”

   He looked blank, and I tried not to sigh, instead adding, “Let's go out to the stable building.”

   After I showed him what he needed to do, he smiled. I knew I'd have to check up, but he might as well have something he was responsible for from the beginning.

   I could hear the noises of the saw and of the hammer as I continued with the drawer fronts.

   Every so often, I trudged across the yard, which was finally drying out in the warming winds that preceded spring, to check on Wegel. I made him reset one sill, because it was clear he hadn't really used the level-probably because he needed to chop through a ridge of clay and lay another line of stones-but he got the idea, and only looked somewhat sheepish.

   Both Wegel and I were tired, long before I lit the big lantern, and long before Krystal rode in, but he kept working and so did I-but only until I heard the horses.

   Krystal looked tired, too, and I could sense the dull aching in her arm as she dismounted.

   “Long day?”

   She shook her head, and I hugged her gently. Then she looked down at the tracks in the yard. “You had visitors today.”

   Wegel smiled from the kitchen door, as did Rissa.

   I gave a wry grin. “Antona. She was not totally pleased, I think, at my progress on her desk-even if she did say something about being surprised at how much I had done given my exploits. At least, she didn't come two eight-days earlier.”

   “Sometimes darkness does favor you, Lerris.” She shook her head, taking the reins and leading the black gelding toward the stable.

   “Sometimes?” asked Jinsa from the shadows.

   “You want to be 'favored' the way he was in Hydlen, Jinsa?” asked Haithen.

   “I take that back.”

   “You'd better,” said Perron with a half-laugh.

   After I helped groom the gelding, both Krystal and I washed up, and then headed for the kitchen. My stomach was growling. So was Krystal's.

   “A long time since you ate?” I asked.

   “Breakfast.” Krystal sank into the chair at the end of the table. “I need to enjoy this while I can. The demon's hell has opened up in Freetown.”

   “Not that it could happen to a finer place.” Rissa set the platter of sliced mutton on the table, and followed it with a bowl heaped high with noodles and a dark gravy. “What with all those dukes that love to fight and kill.”

   The four guards leaned forward, but waited for us to serve ourselves.

   Krystal helped herself, and I followed before passing the platter to Wegel and asking, “What happened in Freetown?”

   “Hamor. Nearly threescore ships and five thousand troops. They executed Colaris.”

   “Executed him?” I asked.

   “Good stuff,” mumbled Dercas, grabbing for the bread.

   “If it's hot, you think it's good,” said Jinsa. “This is really good. You don't know how lucky you are.”

   “I do,” said Haithen quietly, giving me a wink.

   Krystal caught the wink and smiled.

   Haithen swallowed and flushed.

   “I understand,” was all Krystal said, but the hand in her lap reached across and squeezed my thigh.

   “Understand what?” mumbled Dercas.

   “Like every man, you miss it all.” Jinsa laughed.

   “What about Freetown?” I asked.

   Krystal shrugged. “We don't know everything. Hamor pulled its long guns from Colaris's troops-the ones fighting Berfir. Most of the officers left, and the troops retreated. Who wants to get killed fighting for a dead duke? The better officers and their forces have thrown in with Hamor. The others have scattered, but Berfir is, or was, marching toward Freetown. Maybe he thinks he can take the place before Hamor is fully in control. I don't know.” She stopped and took a long deep swallow of the ale.

   “This makes things difficult for you.”

   “You don't know how difficult. With all those Hamorian ships, I can't pull troops out of Ruzor. Do we reinforce the port and hope we don't need the troops along the Little Easthorns?” Krystal set the mug down.

   “Do you think the Prefect of Gallos will try something?”

   “I don't think so. Then, I knew Hamor was up to something, but I hadn't figured on an invasion of Freetown. It makes sense, though.”

   “How?” asked Perron quietly.

   Krystal took another pull of ale before answering. “Colaris had all his forces out to the south trying to stop Berfir. Because Hamor was providing the long guns and supplies, no one probably paid much attention to the first Hamorian ships, and by the time they did, it was too late.”

   “A lot of the folks in Freetown probably weren't all that fond of Duke Colaris anyway,” added Rissa.

   “After what he did to Duke Holloric's people, I can't possibly see why,” said Haithen dryly.

   “Good sauce,” mumbled Dercas.

   “All you think about is food,” said Jinsa.

   “Got to eat.” Dercas sounded indignant. “Can't do much about invasions and ships. I can enjoy food, though.”

   Rissa nodded, and I had to agree with at least part of what he said.

 
 “Going to be a real mess around Freetown,” observed Perron.

   “I hope we don't have to head there anytime soon.” Haithen broke off a chunk of bread.

   Krystal ate deliberately, without speaking, and even her strokes with her knife were slow, a sure sign that she was exhausted.

   “Think Berfir will pull back once the Hamorians get organized?” Dercas spat out bread fragments with the question.

   “Dercas!” snapped Jinsa. “You're disgusting.”

   “That's being too nice,” added Haithen.

   “Autarch doesn't pay me to be nice... pays me to fight and guard the commander.”

   “Enough.” Perron broke off a corner of bread with a crack.

   Wegel seemed to sink lower with each bite of lamb and noodles, and dinner was over before long.

   Krystal trudged to the bedroom, and I followed.

   “You're going to Ruzor, then?” After helping her pull off her boots, I set them in the corner by the wardrobe.

   “Before long. It makes sense.”

   I understood. Except for the south, all Kyphros's borders were defined by mountains, and much of the terrain near those borders was less than hospitable. The Little Easthorns were the least defensible, but even the new Prefect of Gallos probably wasn't insane enough to start another war with Kyphros with the Empire of Hamor knocking at the door.

   With the size of the Hamorian fleet, Ruzor was clearly the most vulnerable point, and Kasee had less than a handful of ships, none really more than steam-powered and armed merchant ships.

   I thought for a moment. “Kyphros really can't be the first target.”

   “No. Hamor will take the trading ports first, then slowly choke the rest of us.”

   “It'll take a long time to choke Kyphros.”

   “That's why Kasee's worried.”

   “Oh.” I understood, or I thought I did. By the time Hamor got to Kyphros, Kasee would have no allies and no negotiating room. And Leithrrse would know that-so Hamor could put a lot of early pressure. If Kasee refused to submit, then Hamor would make an example-assuming the Emperor were successful in overrunning the rest of eastern Candar. If he could put nearly threescore ships in the Great North Bay, I didn't have any doubts that there were a lot more ships and men on the way-and a lot more cannon and cartridges. “She won't negotiate. She can't.”

   “No. She'll hope for a miracle.”

   I didn't like that, especially since people in Kyphros looking for miracles seemed to head in my direction.

   “There's another problem that might affect you,” she added.