The Death of Chaos

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  My fingers gripped the reins in one hand and the staff in the other, although what good the staff might do was another question. My palms were sweaty, and my heart thumped faster than I thought it could.

  Once on the browning grass, Yelena’s squads pulled away toward the road, still quiet, and still trotting.

  Then a single trumpet sounded, three quick blasts. The signal repeated itself, once and then again.

  More than half the Hydlenese around the road hadn’t fully turned when Yelena’s squads hit them. By then, the outliers and I were almost on the tents, and the confused Hydlenese there.

  Dust and more dust swirled up into my face, and my eyes stung, and my head swam because I was watching half with my eyes and half with my mind, and two sets of images flashed before me.

  Somehow I’d gotten the staff into a pattern. I felt like I was flailing, except I saw one woman go down before her blade reached me, and I rocked back in the saddle, half turning before I could get Gairloch headed down the space between the low tents of the Hydlenese troopers and on toward the wizard’s pavilion tent.

  In the background, there were more trumpets, interspersed with heavy drum rolls, and yells, clashing metal, curses, and the screams of dying souls and horses.

  Hhssttt! Hssstt!!!

  Two firebolts spewed past me, close enough that I could feel their heat, close enough that I could smell singed hair and scorched flesh.

  “Aeeüi…”

  “…oh…”

  Another firebolt hissed overhead, and I ducked. “Come on, old fellow.”

  Wheee… eeee… Complaints or not, Gairloch cantered forward, and I lurched along with him.

  “Follow the wizard… follow the wizard…”

  Why Shervan was telling the outliers to follow me made no sense, but Gairloch had begun to canter. I could not only sense the wizard’s tent, but see it.

  “Follow the wizard…”

  A distant wavering trumpet seemed to echo from the hills, just as another firebolt flared around the shields I hadn’t realized I’d raised-not light shields, just the kind of order barriers I’d used against Antonin.

  “Get the rockets! The rockets!”

  At that cry, my eyes glanced beyond the wizard’s tent.

  A handful of men were using something like torches, and the smell of another kind of flame swirled through the tents to me.

  With a whistling hiss, a rocket dug into the far hillside beyond Yelena’s forces, and the brown grass began to burn out in a circle.

  More rockets arched out into the west, toward the road to Kyphros.

  The heat and sound of a wizard’s firebolt jerked my eyes back to the white tent.

  The next firebolt shivered against my staff, so hot and hard I almost dropped it. From the side two men in red tunics slashed toward me, while another half squad ran up from the left.

  Two of the outliers spurred their mounts up on the right to shield me, and one went down under the brutal slash of the leading Hydlenese lancer. A spray of blood cascaded across my arm. My guts wrenched, and I dug my heels into Gairloch, although what I was doing charging with only a staff was another question. I recalled that I’d done it before, without a lot of success against such things as arrows.

  More mounted Hydlenese appeared, all seemingly headed toward me, and it seemed as if Gerlis’s tent were still kays away, as if Gairloch and I were hardly moving forward, as if I were making every motion through water, ever more slowly.

  Whhhstttt… Whhhstttt… The line of fire from the rockets was so bright that my eyes followed them for a moment, and my mouth dropped open as they flared right through the center of the Hydlenese lines, one exploding almost at the crimson banner with the sign of the golden dagger.

  Then I was trying to unseat another Hydlenese trooper, and the dust and noise swirled around me.

  Half ducking, I deflected another firebolt. “ Second!” screamed a distant voice, and the trumpet called again.

  Weldein slammed past me, slashing at a trooper I hadn’t even seen, and the way to Gerlis’s tent, less than fifty cubits ahead, cleared.

  Through the cleared space, Gerlis hurled another firebolt, like a spear, one that flew wide of me, but the outlier on my left went up in flames, so quickly he or she didn’t even scream.

  I pulled aside another flaring and hissing firebolt, and through a gap in the dust and smoke I thought I saw the green leathers of the Finest-more of them-charging from the west. Gerlis turned, and another pair of firebolts flew-not toward me, but toward the Finest-and Krystal.

  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.

  “Aeeeüüi… 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 mis
ts 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.

  XXXIII

  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.

  XXXIV

  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�
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  The Book of Ryba Canto DL

  [The Last]

  Original Text

  Part II

  Finding Knowledge

  XXXV

  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?”