Chaos Trapped

by Eric T Knight

  The terl stood there for a minute, staring at him, then he nodded. “I only hope there is a next time. In the morning, perhaps people will be calmer. We’ll see.” He pulled up his hood. At the door he turned back. “Give me your word you won’t leave tonight. Your word as a man.”

  Karliss hesitated only a moment before saying, “I won’t leave.”

  The terl left. Later, Nergui brought him some food. Karliss didn’t touch it. He extinguished his lamp and sat there in the darkness for hours, listening to the fury of the storm outside.

  Wishing he could be part of it.

  Wanting to leave.

  Chapter Forty

  It was still raining in the morning when Karliss left his yurt, but not nearly as hard. The clouds hung thick and heavy, a featureless gray blanket that enveloped the land and muted everything. He stood there looking down at the river. It had risen during the night and now spilled over its banks. As it made its way around the bend it foamed and muttered to itself. There was no way the clan could cross the river now, especially not here at the bend. It was a good thing, he supposed. If Kasai’s stone soldiers showed up, they would surely have trouble crossing the river. And now, with the rain wetting everything, there was no risk of fire. Maybe this would at least give the clan some breathing room.

  He went back into his yurt, sat down, and whistled up an aranti. Soon one came racing in through the open flap, and Karliss grabbed on. They flew away to the west, scouting for any sign of enemies. Visibility was low because of the storm, so Karliss spent extra time crisscrossing the steppes, making sure he didn’t overlook anything. By the time he returned to his body, daytime had fully arrived, and he was confident they were in no danger of attack that day.

  If only he could be as confident about his own people. He wasn’t looking forward to what surely waited for him.

  He went outside. The rain had slackened still further. The clouds were still thick, but the glowing orb of the sun was dimly visible in the east. The roar of the river was a constant background sound. The water was brown, and there was foam collecting on the banks.

  He walked over to the cookfire. He saw no one along the way except for one young warrior who avoided his gaze and knew it was because they were all already there. No doubt arguing about him.

  He wasn’t wrong. They were all there, gathered in a large group. They parted, and he made his way through them. In the middle was Henta, her face red. Facing off against her was Munkhe. Her jaw was bunched, and her hands were clenched into fists. Everyone looked at Karliss when he walked up. He walked over to the terl, who was standing slightly to the side.

  “No sign of enemies. I think even if they show up, they’ll find it hard to cross the river for a while.”

  The terl nodded. “Good.”

  “What does that mean?” Henta said. “Nothing. That’s what it means. Kasai will attack and next time we might not survive.”

  “Not if you send my son away we won’t,” Munkhe snapped. “How long will we survive if more of those gray riders show up? Or the stone soldiers?”

  “But they won’t. It’s him they want, not us.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know that he angered the gods, that he desecrated their holy place, that ever since he became our tlacti we have felt their wrath over and over.” She turned and glared at Karliss. “And I know that he struck me yesterday with his power. He is no longer himself. The clouds have come into his eyes. If he stays, it will only be a matter of time before he turns on us as Ihbarha did, only worse.”

  “Can you blame him?” Munkhe said. “The way you ride him constantly. He’d just stopped the fire from burning up our wagons. He was at his edge, and you showed up and pushed him further. What would anyone do?”

  “Not anyone could level our entire camp with a wave of his hand,” Henta shot back.

  “Enough!” Dashin snapped suddenly. “We’ve heard it all. There is nothing new to say.” He turned to look out over his clan. “Henta has called for a vote on exile. As a member of the council, it is within her rights to do so. You’ve heard her arguments, and I’ve told you what I think. Now it’s up to you to decide.”

  “Who wants him exiled before he destroys us all?” Henta broke in.

  Hands went up. Karliss’ heart sank, and his knees felt weak. There were a lot of them. Probably more than half, though it was hard to tell for sure.

  But at the same time, part of him was glad. Once they exiled him he was free. He could be one with the wind, go where it went, never be chained to the earth again.

  “Who votes against exile?” Munkhe cried out, her voice shrill with fear. “Which of you will vote against sending my son away?”

  Hands went up. Karliss could see that it was less than half. Still the two sides warred within him.

  Hulagu stepped out of the crowd, Batu on his heels. In a loud, clear voice he said, “If Karliss goes, I go with him.”

  “Me too,” Batu said defiantly.

  There was a yelp, and Nergui burst out of the crowd as well. “Karliss needs me,” he said simply. “I watch his stuff for him.”

  Munkhe and Ganzorig exchanged looks. Karliss could see that this was something they’d talked about already. “We will go too,” she said, turning a dark look on the others. “If you would exile my son, then you are no longer my people.”

  Others came forward then, a score or more. Karliss saw the terl look around helplessly, and he knew the man was stuck in a hopeless situation. His clan was splintering before his eyes, and there was nothing he could do about it. His words had failed, and this was no enemy he could fight with steel. However this worked out, whatever remained afterwards, the clan would be badly weakened and vulnerable.

  The terl stepped forward and started to say something, but Karliss heard something else then, something that caused him to ignore the terl and turn away. The aranti were babbling fearfully.

  Something was coming for them.

  Chapter Forty-one

  Without a word, Karliss took off running toward the east side of the camp. Behind him he heard Dashin shout, but he ignored him. Scattered, disjointed images flashed through his mind. The aranti were clamoring in alarm. In the clamor, one name came through over and over.

  Kasai!

  Karliss reached the edge of the hillock and stared out across the grasslands. There was nothing there except for the goat herd, a sentry watching over them. The horses and yaks were small in the distance. The goats had stopped grazing and were looking around uneasily. The terl came running up, followed by others.

  “What is it?” he asked. “What’s happening?” He had his sword in his hand.

  Karliss held up his hand. “Wait for it.” More people arrived by the moment. The warriors took up positions all along the edge of the hillock, swords and spears in hand, bows strung and arrows ready. Batu and Hulagu arrived and flanked Karliss. Batu held his spear, Hulagu the big tulwar. All of them stood there in confusion, looking out at nothing.

  All of a sudden, Karliss realized something. He knew why he hadn’t seen any enemy forces approaching. He knew how Kasai had fooled him.

  Kasai had sent his soldiers underground.

  Before he could say anything, there came a loud rending, grinding noise. Several hundred paces away the earth split open. The crack appeared right next to the sentry, and he tumbled into it, only managing to barely catch hold of the edge. He was trying to climb out, the wet earth crumbling under him, when suddenly he was yanked backward and disappeared into the crack. There was a single scream of pain, quickly silenced.

  The warriors looked to the terl for orders. He motioned for them to stay put. Everyone stood there, watching the crack, waiting for whatever horror might emerge.

  A hand appeared, a hand made of stone. It was joined by a second hand, then others all along the crack. Heads followed, then shoulders and torsos. Scores of them climbed out of the crack while the clan watched them in dawning horror.

  They had once been human
, but no longer. They were stone now, dull gray. Mouths and eyes were empty holes. The grating of stone on stone accompanied each movement. They lined up along the edge of the crack and turned to face the waiting warriors.

  The terl gave an order and bowstrings twanged. Arrows flew out toward their targets, though everyone there knew it was useless. What weapon could hurt stone? Hammers maybe, but not arrows or spears or swords.

  And Karliss realized how neatly the trap had been set. They’d been guided here. Kasai had wanted them to camp on this hillock in the bend of the river. The crack stretched most of the way across the opening, with only narrow gaps at each end. There was no way the clan could cross the swollen river, and at best only a few would make it through the gaps before the stone soldiers closed with them.

  Dashin came to the same conclusion. He turned to Karliss. “Use it. Use the third word.” He pointed to the right side. “Keep that open, and I’ll get our people out. If we can get to the horses…”

  “I can’t,” Karliss said. “It’s too soon. I’ll lose myself.” He knew it to be true. He’d come so close to losing himself before. This time would be worse. He could still hear that sky calling to him. If he went into it again while the lure was still this strong, he’d never return. His people would die while he flew free on the winds.

  “Give me something,” the terl grated.

  “Do what you did with Tharn,” Batu said. “Pick them up. Smash them.” He didn’t have the look of horror on his face that most of the others had. He looked confident, sure in Karliss’ abilities.

  Karliss wasted no more time talking. The stone soldiers were shambling forward already, fanning out as they came to block any escape. He considered hitting them with a blast of wind but discarded the idea. He might slow them, but he didn’t think he would stop them. They were made of stone, and there were too many of them.

  Batu was right. If he could pick them up and drop them, maybe they would break.

  “I’ll try to open the right side,” he told the terl. “Get ready to run.”

  “Akuy-ken-shai!”

  The power of the second word radiated outward. There were numerous aranti nearby, drawn, as always, by the excitement of something happening, something new and interesting.

  They turned toward him as one, caught by the intensity of his will. Two score. Three. Not enough to attack all of the stone soldiers at once, but enough to tear a large hole on the right side of that advancing line.

  Karliss flung them at the stone soldiers on the right. The aranti resisted, but he overrode their resistance easily, the power of his need too strong to be denied. The first aranti reached their targets in moments—

  There was a flurry of purple sparks from the soldiers as the aranti tried to take hold of them. The aranti who’d touched the stone soldiers reeled backwards from the contact, high-pitched keening coming from them. Their cries were so loud that even the other people heard them, putting their hands over their ears and adding their own cries of pain to the din.

  The aranti who’d touched the stone soldiers went berserk and broke away from Karliss’ control. They fled the scene, still shrieking. Over and over Karliss picked out four words from the babble:

  Chaos power! It burns!

  Hurriedly, Karliss pulled back the other aranti, easy to do because they were already slowing anyway, alarmed by their brethren’s reaction.

  Then he stood there, unsure what to do next. The stone soldiers continued their advance. He could see now that many of them wielded stone clubs, huge, unwieldy things, crude yet surely effective.

  “Now would be a good time to do something, Karliss,” Batu said nervously, shifting his grip on his spear. All up and down the line the warriors looked to their terl, to Karliss, wondering what to do next.

  Karliss threw the wind at them, backing up his own strength with the power of the aranti themselves. Gale-force winds battered the stone soldiers’ ranks, wind strong enough to uproot mighty trees, powerful enough that the grasses and topsoil were torn up.

  But it did no good. It slowed the soldiers, but they continued their inexorable advance. They were less than thirty paces away by now. None of the warriors had broken ranks, but they were looking around nervously.

  “You can do this,” Hulagu said.

  Desperately, Karliss cast about for an idea, any idea. Overhead the sky had grown very dark once again, the storm of the night before whipped into new strength by the excitement of the aranti, more of which were arriving every moment, drawn by the excitement. Lightning flickered ceaselessly in the storm’s depths.

  An idea began to dawn. Karliss remembered the lightning that killed the horse during the ritual of appeasement. He remembered the lightning that struck him that day he first tried to use the first word of power. And he realized something.

  The aranti didn’t just bring the wind. They brought the storm.

  They brought the lightning.

  “Get back!” he shouted, waving his arms. “Everyone move back now!”

  The terl didn’t hesitate or question, only added his orders to Karliss’ voice. The warriors withdrew. “You too!” Karliss yelled at his friends. They fell back as well.

  Karliss reached up, into the storm. His vision changed, and he was no longer in his body. He was above, looking down on the stone soldiers as they reached the base of the hillock and started up it.

  Lightning.

  His thought was his will, and his will was his command.

  The aranti responded instantly, without resistance. Lightning was a game that they enjoyed. And it did not require them to close with the soldiers.

  A bolt stabbed down out of the clouds and struck one of the stone soldiers on the shoulder. The stone exploded, tearing away the soldier’s arm and a sizable chunk of his torso. He staggered sideways, running into the soldier next to him.

  Then the bolts began to come down like rain.

  Arms and legs were blown off. Heads exploded in showers of stone fragments. A few cries of pain rose from warriors who were still too close, as stone shrapnel struck them. Karliss would have been struck as well, but there was a vortex of wind around him, deflecting the fragments. Nor was he affected by the lightning, though his hair stood on end and a nimbus of blue electricity surrounded him.

  He screamed with the sheer joy of it, his voice echoing the voices of the aranti. The play of lightning was exhilarating. He threw lightning at the stone soldiers with wild abandon, not even bothering to aim, simply throwing it again and again. Whether the lightning came from him or the aranti he couldn’t have said, nor did it matter. Distantly he heard himself laughing.

  Then it was over, and there were no more targets, only a few pieces that still twitched and moved here and there.

  Karliss returned to himself and looked around. Without realizing it, during the battle he’d walked forward into the midst of the stone soldiers. Pieces of gray stone littered the ground all around him. Smoke rose from his clothing in several areas, and he could smell burned hair, though he was otherwise untouched.

  Standing there, he realized something.

  Kasai would never stop. Whether it was only Karliss that he was after, or the whole clan, it didn’t matter. Kasai would keep attacking until Karliss was dead.

  Karliss felt a growing rage inside him. Somehow, without meaning to, he’d gained the enmity of a powerful Stone Shaper. He’d risked his life over and over fighting that Stone Shaper, and for that, the reward his own clan gave him was exile. Exile.

  He’d had enough.

  Slowly, his hands clenched into fists. He knew what he was going to do.

  And he knew how he was going to do it.

  He raised his head. His clan was standing there staring at him, many of them openmouthed. There was awe on their faces. Fear too.

  Fear of him.

  Even his family and closest friends were frozen in place, not sure if it was safe to approach him. His mother had her hands up as if she were trying to reach out to him. His father had a
wary look on his face, and when Narantse tried to take a step toward Karliss, his hand closed on her shoulder and kept her in place.

  “I’m leaving,” he said.

  The paralysis gripping his mother broke then, and she started hurrying toward him. “No, Karliss,” she cried. “We’re not letting you—”

  “Alone.”

  The power in his voice was such that his mother came to a halt. Fear and worry twisted her face. “Please don’t do this,” she pleaded. “Let us at least vote again. Maybe people have changed their minds.”

  “You don’t understand. I’m sick of being attacked.” His gaze found Henta and locked onto her. She was staring at him in horror. “I’m going to do something about it.” Henta paled and took a step back.

  But she misunderstood. This wasn’t about her. His gaze swept his people. They stared at him, entranced. He spoke again.

  “I’m going to kill Kasai.”

  Chapter Forty-two

  For long moments they stared at him. Then his mother let out a choked cry and hurried to him. “You can’t. He’s too strong. He’ll kill you.”

  Karliss stopped her when she tried to hug him. “I’m not going to talk about this. I’m going to kill Kasai.” Overhead the thunder rumbled menacingly as he spoke. People looked up at the clouds, and many backed further away.

  The terl came up, his expression grim. “Don’t throw your life away, Karliss. Stop and think about this.”

  “I’ve done all the thinking I’m going to do. Kasai will never stop attacking me.”

  “You don’t know that—” the terl began, before Karliss interrupted him.

  “I’m going to kill him. Or he’s going to kill me. One way or the other, this is going to end. Today.”

  “I won’t let—”

  Again Karliss interrupted the terl. “You can’t stop me.” He raised his head and looked over his people again. “Besides, you exiled me, remember? I am no longer bound by clan rules.”