Ordermaster (73 page)

   
He jerked his head back. The lancers had rifles, and they were using them.

Crack! Crack!. . .

   
Another chaos-filled bolt smashed through a window to Kharl's left. This time, he managed to smother it immediately with order and hardened air.

   
The reports of the rifles came more quickly, and Kharl could feel the bullets flying toward the residence and past him.

   
What could he do about so many rifles? He hadn't faced those before, not in such numbers. He tried to think. Rifles meant powder, even if kept within soft iron.

   
He extended his order-senses, but all but two or three lancers were beyond his reach for what he needed to do, and sweat was already streaming down his face.

Those he could reach would have to do.

   
All he needed was just to unlink a small bit of the order in the iron ... just a small bit. His entire body felt hot, as if he were about to catch fire. Then, the unseen, but strong links began to unravel, and Kharl flattened himself against the stone.

Whhhstt. . . CRUMPTM

   
The entire residence shook. Flames shot up from the front rank of the lancers, and parts of the trees overhanging the street began to smolder.

A wave of death surged over Kharl.

   
The lancers were dead, and so were their mounts, so quickly that there were no screams-just ashes and several charred figures of men and horses, those farther away from the point where Kharl had unbound order and released pure deadly chaos.

   
For all that, Kharl could sense the shields of the white wizard, just beyond his reach. Raising his own shields, he eased sideways across the portico.

"No..." whispered Jeka.

Kharl kept moving, taking the steps down to the drive.

Whhhstt! A firebolt arced toward him, splashed across his shield.

So much sweat was streaming down his face that his eyes stung, and he

could barely see. He had to get to this white wizard before the man tried to flee. Kharl didn't want the other white wizards to know any more than they might gather from a distance about him, and he certainly didn't want to deal with three or four at once. That could happen if this one escaped. Kharl had barely managed two at a time before, and that had been chancy, even with lancers supporting him.

   
Two firebolts flashed at Kharl, one right after the other. Both sheeted around him. Kharl felt as though he were standing in the middle of one of his coopering fire pots, but he kept walking toward the attacking wizard.

   
The white wizard was still mounted. Even from fifty cubits away, Kharl could see that he was young. He didn't look that much older than Erdyl. A look of surprise had appeared on his face as he saw Kharl walking through the gate that the lancers had battered open.

   
Whhstt! Another firebolt flared toward Kharl, spraying around him as he walked forward, readying his own attack.

   
With the next firebolt, Kharl created the shield that deflected the chaos back at the young wizard, then struck by hardening the air around the man.

   
The wizard froze in the saddle, then slowly toppled sideways. A flicker of chaos whispered toward Kharl, then died as the younger man struck the bricks of the street. Kharl still had to hold the hardened air shield for a time before the other man died.

   
He took a deep breath. He still knew of no way to capture chaos-wizards-not that would keep them from escaping. From what he knew, he wasn't sure that there was a way. Or maybe he just didn't know enough.

   
When he released the shield, the figure of the wizard, young as he had looked, shimmered, and disintegrated into dust.

Kharl turned and trudged back to the residence.

   
Demyst and Jeka were waiting on the portico-both shielded by stone pillars.

"Ser?" asked Demyst.

   
"They're dead. All of them." Kharl sank onto the half wall, half-sitting, half-leaning. White points of light flickered in and out of his vision. "Need to eat, drink. In case someone else comes." He straightened slowly, then walked into the residence.

   
He hadn't done that much heavy magery recently, and it showed. He also hadn't eaten that much the night before, and that hadn't helped, either. So many things to think about.

Demyst headed up to the third level. Kharl knew someone up there

had died, and he hoped that it hadn't been Erdyl. Then, he hadn't wanted anyone to die.

He settled into a chair in the breakfast nook.

   
Jeka reappeared with a wedge of cheese and some bread. "You want lager?"

"Please."

"The others can come up from below?"

   
Kharl nodded, then, realizing she might not see the movement in the darkened room, added, "Yes. Won't be anything happening for a while."

   
Kharl sat in the darkness, slowly chewing some bread. His mouth was so dry he was having trouble swallowing, and he was grateful when Jeka reappeared with a pitcher of lager. She found a beaker and filled it. He took a careful swallow, then sliced a piece of cheese off the wedge with his belt knife. He had trouble holding the knife, but managed.

   
As Kharl slipped the cheese into his mouth, Demyst entered the breakfast room, followed by Erdyl.

"They shot Cevor," the undercaptain said.

"I'm sorry. I felt it. I didn't know who, though."

   
"One man ... against forty-odd of theirs and a white wizard-there was only one, wasn't there?"

   
"Just one." Kharl took another sip of lager. The worst of his weakness and light-headedness was beginning to subside. "Hate to lose even one of our own. The thing with the chaos-bolts and the windows. Hadn't seen that before."

"What?"

   
"The windows they broke ..." Kharl went on to explain how the bolts had been infused with chaos to set the residence on fire. "... probably wanted the place ablaze so that they could pick off people trying to escape."

"Sounds like the Hamorians," said Demyst.

"More like Egen." Jeka's voice was hard.

"He wasn't with them, I don't think," Kharl said.

" 'A course not. Let someone else do the dirt," Jeka replied.

   
That would only work for a while-at least Kharl hoped so. Eventually, he needed to face Egen, if only for his own sake.

   
After a time, Jeka, seated across from him, asked, "You . .. you coulda done this before?"

"No. I didn't know I could. The staff started it, but I never knew." Kharl

smiled sadly. "A lot of lancers and armsmen died because it took me a while to learn what I know."

   
"More of 'em lived than would have otherwise," suggested the under-captain.

   
In fact, he and Demyst were both correct, but it didn't make Kharl feel that much better about it.

LXXIX

Dy just after dawn, and only a few glasses of sleep, not only could Kharl still smell smoke, and the ashes of burned men and mounts-and foliage, but despite the clouds, he could also see a pall of thick gray smoke still rising from somewhere near the top of the hill. The only place it could have come from was from the Quadrancy Keep. Whether Osten or Ostcrag had survived was another question, but that speculation could wait. Regardless of that, Kharl needed to deal with Egen and the Hamorians, especially the Hamorians.

   
Alynar was standing watch out front, and one of Demyst's guards in the rear, as Erdyl, Demyst, Kharl, and Jeka ate hurriedly in the breakfast room.

"How many men do we have?" Kharl asked Demyst.

"We lost Cevor, and Sestalt's pretty bruised. Why?"

"We're going after Egen."

"Better 'n sitting here any longer."

   
"We couldn't start a war. Egen started it," Kharl said. "We can try to make it very short."

"Why didn't-" Erdyl broke off his words.

   
Kharl understood the unspoken remainder of the question, and he didn't have the best answers. He hadn't wanted to overreact to Egen's evil viciousness. He hadn't really understood what being an envoy was all about. He'd worried about setting up a situation where all the rulers of the Quadrancy and Candar would back Hamor in invading Austra-because Austra, in the person of Kharl, had tried to upset the established order in Nordla. Worst of all, while he had understood how evil Egen truly was,

Kharl hadn't realized the true depth of Egen's ambition until the last few

days.

"Because," was all he said.

   
"Lord Kharl's been here less than three eightdays," Demyst pointed out. "Not very long to learn what's happening and do something about it. Especially when we got no lancers or armsmen, and Egen's got wizards and his own private army."

   
"Envoys aren't supposed to bring private armies," Kharl said dryly. "We're just supposed to watch and report." Had it been less than three eightdays? He felt as though he'd been back in Nordla forever. He forced himself to eat another helping of egg toast, followed by a healthy swallow of the too-tart early cider.

"Where are we headed, ser, if I might ask?"

   
"To the south barracks, the ones out by the new road, just south of the city." Kharl had already used his order-senses to determine that there were no chaos-wizards remaining at the new harbor barracks, or anywhere around the harbor, and the chaos that surrounded them appeared to have come from the south. He was guessing, but he didn't think the white wizards who had been at the quarry fort had joined Egen's patrollers. He didn't know about the wizard who'd been in the Quadrancy Keep before, either, except that he wasn't there any longer.

Demyst frowned.

   
"He'll be there. Or his patrollers will be. That's where his golds are. If he's not there, he'll be at the fort off the east road."

"Why there?" asked Erdyl.

   
"That's where they can block any lancers from the north and east who might support Ostcrag and Osten."

"Do we know if they're still alive?"

   
"I'd guess that at least one of them is. If they were both dead, Egen and the white wizards would already be holding the Quadrancy Keep."

"What about the other son-Vielam?"

   
"I don't know. He favors Egen, I've heard. Doesn't matter, though. Either Ostcrag survived the attack on the Quadrancy Keep, or one of the older sons did. Otherwise, Brysta would be crawling with patrollers and white wizards."

Jeka grimaced, but said nothing.

Kharl rose. "We'd better get ready." He turned to Khelaya, standing in

the archway to the kitchen. "We'll need some provisions, and I'll need a hefty bag, and my water bottles filled with cider."

A quizzical look momentarily crossed the older cook's face.

Demyst raised his eyebrows in a different inquiry.

   
"It's not much of a secret now," Kharl said. "I'm an order-mage. I can't keep using magery without eating a lot."

   
"After last night, it had to be something like sorcery," Khelaya said. "Never seen anything like that."

   
Behind Khelaya stood Enelya, and the serving girl's mouth opened. She shut it quickly, and her eyes went to Jeka, who gave the slightest of headshakes.

"We'll make sure you have enough," added the cook.

   
"Thank you." Kharl hurried up to his chamber, where he donned a black riding jacket and quickly washed, before heading down and out to the stables. As he crossed the stretch of gardens, he glanced up. The clouds had lifted some, but had also darkened slightly, suggesting more rain later.

   
Mantar had the chestnut gelding saddled and waiting for Kharl. Demyst and Alynar were packing provisions into their saddlebags. Erdyl had already mounted, as had Sestalt, bruised as he was. Enelya stood to the side, holding several more bags.

Kharl looked to the serving girl.

   
"Jeka already packed yours, ser," Enelya said quickly, not meeting Kharl's eyes.

   
Kharl followed her glance to the side of the stable yard. Jeka was already mounted. She wore a gray jacket, and she'd cut her hair boy-short once more. Before Kharl could say a word, she spoke. "I'm going. I can run messages. Do stuff."

   
Kharl didn't say anything. He just stood there for a long moment. He didn't want Jeka anywhere near the fighting.