Turmin took a deep breath. “I don’t know, but I suspect Justen has a device that he believes will destroy the power of Fairhaven.”
“Will it?”
Turmin shrugged. “I’ll hope not.”
“You hope it will not destroy the power of Fairhaven?”
“You see, counselors, matters are not simple.” The old mage wiped his forehead. “In fact, they are very complicated. The Balance works. We know this. It means that if Justen’s device destroys the power of Fairhaven, one of two things must happen. Either all those powers will find a single chaos focus…” Turmin shuddered “… and we all know what that means.”
The two women looked at each other again. Ryltar scowled.
“Or,” continued Turmin, “he means to cancel their powers by simultaneously reducing both order and chaos. How he would do that, I do not know, but I suspect that is his goal.”
“But why is that a problem?”
“Because Recluce has built up a vast reservoir of order. If Justen drains it, I doubt that any of the Mighty Ten will retain their engines.”
“And you did not think of telling anyone?”
“I still do not see how it can be done.” Turmin shrugged. “If I attempted to warn the Council of everything that might be possible or might happen-”
“That is your duty, is it not?” asked Ryltar.
“Counselor Ryltar, the world will end. When or how, I do not know. But it will end. Consider yourself informed.” Turmin stood. “By your leave, Claris?”
The oldest counselor nodded. Ryltar flushed.
Jenna pursed her lips. “We need to get all the Mighty Ten into port… if we can.”
CXLIV
“So the honorable Beltar has requested that all members of the Council gather in Fairhaven to meet the challenge from Recluce?” Histen snorted.
“Surely you are not going to refuse?” Renwek’s hands fluttered. “Beltar would not be pleased. He is rather powerful, you know.”
The older White Wizard glanced from the antique battlement to the harbor below. “Yes, he is rather powerful, and it would not be wise to refuse. But I have been ill, and it may take me a bit longer to prepare, and my travels are most likely to be far slower than normal.”
“You look hale and healthy to me, Histen, better than when you left the amulet to young Beltar.”
“I have been ailing, Renwek, and while I will certainly heed the High Wizard’s call, my progress will doubtless be slow. If you could see your way to assisting an ailing old wizard, I would appreciate it. In either case, please convey, via the wagon post, that we hear and obey as quickly as our ancient bones will permit.” Histen looked down on the town of Lydiar and the harbor, letting the sun warm him.
“Ah, yes. I do see that you may indeed need assistance,” stammered Renwek.
Histen smiled in the sunlight.
CXLV
Justen studied the river, wondering if Hyntal were not crazier than either he or Gunnar. But the old captain had been adamant. “Lydiar’s got a strong bunch of wizards- watch the Great Bay and everything that comes in. No one cares much about the Ohyde River, and Renklaar’s a third-rate port. I’ll bet we could get almost all the way to Hydolar and dump you on the old lower docks.”
“How do you know about the docks?” Justen had asked. The old captain had just grinned. So had Martan. Justen wondered what else the captains of the Mighty Ten had been doing that neither he nor the Council knew of.
The engineer had done what he could. The waterproof canvases were off the land engine. The coal bins were topped off, and the reservoir was full. The firebox was ready to light. Only the chains were in place.
Of course, how they would ever leave Candar was another question. All Justen had told Gunnar and Martan was that he had enough golds for either a commercial or a smuggler’s passage to return to Recluce. That was true enough, and it was also true enough that if his efforts worked, commercial passage would be on a sailing ship.
“Oh, how well we can learn to deceive with truth…” Justen glanced to the southern bank of the Ohyde River, where a small fishing boat angled toward the massive warship. He continued to watch, but the fishing boat did not change course and finally passed abreast of the Llyse less than a hundred cubits away. The fisherman waved, and Mar-tan waved back from the side of the bridge.
Did the Council know that the Mighty Ten-or at least the Llyse-were traveling the larger rivers of Candar? Jus-ten grinned. After his experience in Naclos, he was beginning not to be too surprised at the unexpected.
“Oh, Dayala…” he half-murmured, half-thought.
*You have… learned much. Be careful…*
In planning to upset half the known world, I’m supposed to be careful? Justen’s grin faded as he caught the serious expression on his brother’s face.
“The lower piers are around the next bend,” Gunnar announced.
“It might be time for shields,” suggested Justen.
Pendak wiped the sweat off his forehead. “There aren’t any Whites near the pier. If I create shields, any White around will sense it and Hyntal will have the demon’s time navigating.”
“You’ve had more experience at this than we have,” Jus-ten conceded. Pendak, Hyntal, and Martan nodded.
Gunnar paused, his perceptions far to the north, ensuring, Justen hoped, that no rain would come their way, at least not until the steam car was on the metaled road to Fairhaven.
“Damned fool idea,” grunted Hyntal.
Justen tried not to grin at the glint in the captain’s eyes. Hyntal liked the idea of bringing the Llyse practically into the capital city of Hydlen.
“What are you calling that contraption?” asked Martan, pointing to the land engine on the deck below.
“Hadn’t thought of a name.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve never named anything.”
“The ‘land engine’ sounds like an unnamed ship.”
Gunnar’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two.
“What would you suggest?” asked Justen.
“Call it the Black Demon. Aren’t all the other demons White?”
“Black Demon… I like that.” Gunnar chuckled.
So did Hyntal, who added, “Then I can tell his mightiness, Counselor Ryltar, that the Black Demon was sent after the White ones.”
Justen watched as the Llyse headed toward a brownish point on the northern side of the river, just before what appeared to be a wide bend.
“Belden! Get the crane ready. Young fellow, you’d better have that thing ready to roll. Won’t be long now. Those are the lower piers.”
Martan grinned. “My people are ready.”
On the deck before the turret, the two squads of black-suited marines had formed.
Justen scrambled off the bridge and onto the deck below, where he touched his striker to the shavings and wood chips. While the wood and the first few chunks of coal caught, he began to loosen all the ties but two.
Martan began to stack the bundles of black iron arrows and the three cases of rockets on the small pallet next to the land engine.
“You don’t have to go, Martan.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
“I would,” admitted Justen.
Martan looked at Justen slowly. “You’re not only brave, but crazy. I’m just crazy. Like all marines.” He returned to stacking the bundled arrows before straightening up and calling, “Raid drill! Stations!”
The marines formed two rows on the shoreward side of the Llyse, the first row standing ready with bows. Behind them to the rear of the ship, two sets of iron shutters dropped open, revealing the rockets.
“Steerage way!” came the call from the bridge.
After that, Gunnar joined Justen beside the land engine, and the creak of the crane and the rattle of chains drowned out the captain’s commands.
Justen watched as nearly a score of fishermen and others bolted from the pier that the Llyse approached. At least
two of the fleeing figures wore the red-slashed uniforms of Hydlen guards. With that thought, Justen slipped back to the firebox and added more coal. They would need to have the land engine-the Black Demon-ready to roll when it touched the pier.
“What if he tilts it too much?” asked Gunnar.
“If he does, he’ll break it and we won’t be going anywhere.” Justen stepped forward as Belden lowered the harness.
He steadied himself as the Llyse lurched slightly.
Creeeakk… The heavy wooden pier squeaked as it resisted the weight of the warship.
Justen slipped the first clamp in place, then the second. Martan steered the third to him, but it took both of them to force the fourth in place. While they worked on attaching the harness, two marines had helped Gunnar release the deck chains.
Belden motioned Justen off the land engine, but the engineer shook his head. Belden shrugged, and Justen hung on as the crane lifted the Demon and him clear of the ship and swung both of them onto the timbers of the pier.
Justen managed to release the forward clamps before Gunnar had scrambled down to join him, and the two managed the second set. Then Justen checked the brake and the steam lines, and finally, the firebox, where he pushed the coal back into the center and added another shovelful.
By the time Justen had finished his inspection, Gunnar had stowed the loose gear. Then Marian and Gunnar began unloading the small pallet of arrows and rockets.
Justen loosened the last clamp on the pallet and waved to Belden. The officer and crane operator waved back, and the heavy harness lifted. Justen ran to the edge of the pier.
“Captain!”
“Yes, Ser Wizard?” called Hyntal.
“Get back to Nylan as fast as you can and shut down… until you find out how we fare.”
Hyntal nodded slowly. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Do it!” snapped Justen.
Hyntal tensed for a moment, then relaxed fractionally. He waved stiffly.
Justen returned the wave and dashed back to the newly named Black Demon, where Martan had already begun to rack the rockets and arrows in easy reach. A froth of water spewed across the edge of the pier as the Llyse backed around and headed downriver-far faster than she had cruised upriver.
“He’s moving fast,” commented Gunnar.
“Justen scared him. Scared me,” grunted Martan.
“He’s scared me since about the time he was born,” said Gunnar.
“I love you, too, Gunnar.” Justen checked the steam pressure, then looked around. “Everyone ready?”
“Hold a moment,” said Martan.
“There are three guards heading down from the higher road,” added Gunnar.
“Didn’t take them long,” said Martan.
“You haven’t landed before, I imagine,” suggested Jus-ten.
“That’s true.”
The engineer released the brake and opened the throttle, letting the Demon ease forward across the slippery timbers to the packed clay of the road. “Which way?”
“To the right. That goes to the old road around Hydolar,” said Gunnar.
“What about the guards?‘” ’There are guards on both ends of this stretch of road. Fewer on the right.“
“How many?”
“Just the three.”
Justen eased back the throttle when they reached the narrow spot in the road as it turned left and back up the hill to the old road. In the middle of the road stood the three guards as the Demon chugged up toward them. On the right side of the road was a deep ditch, on the left a decrepit stone wall.
“Devils!”
“Blacks…”
One guard, a thin man with a bushy mustache, hacked at the car, and his saber bounced from his hand. The second and heavier man jumped aside and watched without moving farther. The woman whipped an arrow from her quiver, but Martan was faster.
Both arrows missed, although Justen thought he felt the Hydlen guard’s pass overhead. He eased up the pressure as the Demon bounced around a corner and past a hay wagon. The horse reared, and Justen glanced back momentarily to see the wagon flip sideways into the ditch.
“Watch the road!” Gunnar shoved the tiller, and Justen barely kept the land engine from landing in the same ditch.
Martan swallowed loudly. “Shit…”
Justen overcorrected again, and the Demon almost piled into the low stone wall before he got it centered on the road. Below the wall ran a narrow creek that seemed almost dry.
“Justen… please, please concentrate on the road,” begged Gunnar.
Martan wiped his forehead.
The Demon chugged southward for a time as the road wound around the hills following the nearly dry creek bed. On the uphill side of the road were meadows and an occasional flock of sheep, and intermittent woodlots and scattered hovels. On the road behind them rose a plume of dry dust.
“Another cart ahead,” warned Gunnar.
“Can you put another shovel of coal in the firebox, Mar-tan?” asked Justen.
“Yes, ser. Just don’t hit anything while the door’s open.”
Justen concentrated on keeping the Demon headed straight and out of the deeper ruts until he heard the clunk of the firebox door.
“Done, ser.”
“Thank you.”
Justen tried to steer the Demon as far to the left as he could to get around the cart and the swaybacked gray that pulled it. He resolutely kept his eyes on the road ahead. “Tell me what that horse did.”
“He skittered sideways. That’s all,” reported Martan.
In the third seat, behind the brothers, Martan checked the bows and the rows of iron-tipped shafts. Behind them were the rockets-the small ones, and only a score at that-with the two portable launchers, one mounted on the back of the coal bin, the other on a bracket between where Justen and Gunnar sat.
“Another shovel of coal?” asked Justen.
“Coming up.”
As the Demon rolled out of a wide curve and a straight stretch of hard-packed clay appeared ahead, Justen checked the engine once more, then opened the throttle. The land engine began to accelerate, the iron tires digging into the hard clay and the spring seats swaying more than ever. “How far before we reach the main road to Fairhaven?”
“Even at the speed you’re making, it should be mid-afternoon.” Gunnar pursed his lips. After a period where the only sounds were those of the land engine, the Weather Wizard spoke again. “Could you explain in simple terms what you want to get done? I mean, just what is the point of all of this?”
“I told you. To balance order and chaos in Fairhaven.”
“How?” pursued Gunnar.
“I’m trying to force the White Wizards to band together, and then I’ll try to hit them and Fairhaven with pure order.”
“That’s what the balloon is for?”
Justen slowed the Demon as the road curved to the left and started downhill past a field of browning grain. Two men watched the land engine pass, their mouths full open.
“Surprised them!” laughed Martan.
“You keep on surprising people and every White Wizard in Candar will be after you.”
“They probably are already.” Justen let his senses run over the land engine, but so far, the engine continued to run smoothly, and even the drive shaft was not too hot.
“There are more troops ahead, at least a score of them,” warned Gunnar. “They seem to know that you want to get on the Fairhaven road. They’re waiting at the junction.”
“Is there any way around?”
“There’s a farm road, but it doesn’t go all the way, and it’s got deep ruts.”
“Great. We need to put up the rest of the armor.” After throttling the Demon down to a stop and locking the brakes, Justen lifted the thin plate shutters into place, filling the grooves between the roof and the body of the car. He left only a space in front of his steering position, laying that plate sideways. Then he donned a thin iron cap with a flared nose guard, as did Martan.
“These slits are small,” complained Martan.
“Which ones?”
“You get used to the helmets. I meant the ones for the arrows. Too bad we couldn’t have brought more rockets.”
“We’re probably overloaded as it is.”
“It’s already getting hot,” added Gunnar.
“So… bring in a little breeze. Given the mess we’ve already made, a little more weather work won’t hurt.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
Justen began to throttle the Demon back up to speed. The land engine came around the last wide curve before the road pointed like an arrow toward the stone-paved highway north to Fairhaven. Justen could see the horse troopers ahead: a mounted squad comprised of two-score troops and one White Wizard, all under the crimson banner of Hydlen.
Justen throttled back, and his eyes flicked to the coal bin, calculating how much coal had been used. Perhaps they should take on some wood as well.
“Halt,” demanded the lead rider.
Justen slowed the steam car but did not stop. “We are on our way to Fairhaven. Are not the roads open to .all?”
“Not to those of the Black isle. Only to those who accept the beneficence of Fairhaven.”
“Stop…” whispered Gunnar.
“No. The car doesn’t move well from a complete stop.. We can outrun them.”
“The White Wizard’s marshaling chaos!”
Justen sensed the accuracy of Gunnar’s words, and he opened the throttle. The Black Demon roared forward.
The horsemen charged.
“Idiots!” snapped Martan. The marine lifted his bow.
Hsssttt! Fire washed over and around the oak ribs covered with the parchment-thin black iron plate.
“Go ahead.”
Martan released the first arrow, and one horse plunged into another.
“Damn! Worse man from a ship’s deck.” Still, arrow after arrow poured from the armored slit before the raised third seat.
Justen centered the rocket launcher on the sense of chaos, tuning his own senses to the White Wizard, then pulled the striker trigger.
Psssst…
“Aeeüi…”
“Demons! Cursed…”
Flames and chaos flared across the rear of the Hydlen troops as Justen throttled the Demon to a higher speed and the black land engine rumbled forward and scattered the lancers.
The Order War Page 55
