Colors of Chaos

CXXXIV

CERRYL REINED THE gelding in at the top of the rise, glancing toward the woods on either side, then to the northwest, along the line of the undulating road, unable to see more than a kay ahead through the light afternoon mist that turned the horizon into a shifting gray curtain. The damp brought out the scent of fir and pine in the woods that had flanked the road for most of the day’s travel.

Not only was the hilly and winding road that led from Kleth to Diev empty of all traffic, but also the rain and weather had erased all sign of horses or wagons, as if no one had traveled that way in eight-days.

Cerryl and his lancers comprised the vanguard. As usual, when Black Order threatens.

The main body of the Fairhaven forces followed nearly a kay behind. He took a deep breath, trying to sense any trace of concentrated order or black iron, but throughout the two days from Kleth he had seen nothing and sensed nothing, and the road had remained deserted. The few cots near the road were also deserted. As if we were a destroying horde, or something.

“Are you sure this is the way, ser?” Hiser glanced at the worried mage.

“It’s the right way, all right. We’re about halfway to Diev.”

“It be unnatural quiet. Even when I was in Gallos and the High Wizard raised the mountains…saw some folk. Not many, but some.” Hiser leaned forward in the saddle, peering at the road ahead through the warm misting rain that had barely dampened the dust. “Still no one out there.”

“There won’t be until we get nearer to Diev.”

“What about the blue armsmen?” asked the subofficer. “What happened to them?”

“Not very many survived the battle and Kleth, and most of those came this way. That was over three eight-days ago. Some fled along the coast out of Diev.” Cerryl shrugged, still studying the downhill stretch of the road ahead with both sight and senses, neither of which revealed anything but trees and underbrush. “Those who didn’t…I guess they’re pretending to be peasants or something else.” He urged the gelding forward. “This section seems clear.” You hope.

Hiser eased his mount along beside Cerryl’s. “Ser, beggin’ your pardon, but we been fighting here for two years, and I don’t see as why everyone’s so feared of you mages. I mean, the way you rule. You don’t do much different as from other rulers.”

Cerryl laughed, softly. “But we do. We cast chaos fire, and most of us can tell if someone lies to us. Chaos fire is something most folk can’t raise, and that creates fear and envy.”

“But…arrows’ll kill a man just as dead. Blades and lances, too. Or the flux.”

“People fear what they don’t understand, Hiser. That’s why many White mages and common folk fear Recluce, too.” Cerryl’s eyes flicked toward the upslope that lay beyond the narrow brook that wound under the stone bridge at the bottom of the incline in the road. “No one wants someone around who can tell when he lies. We all lie, and truth is something every man or woman fears.” He shifted his weight in the saddle and shrugged. “Then, people don’t want to pay for what the Guild does. They want the roads and the prosperity, but they want someone else to come up with the golds. The Guild and Fairhaven cannot survive for long without the roads and their tariffs, and places like Spidlar want to use the roads to sell cheaper goods from Hamor and Recluce without tariffs. The Guild hasn’t been challenged in a long time, and people have forgotten what a chaos war can be like.”

“Like as they won’t forget this one.”

“They will, as soon as they can.” Unless the Guild changes things. He paused. Was that what Jeslek had once had in mind?

Cerryl glanced through the mist, which had begun to turn into true rain, wondering if Leyladin had reached Lydiar, wondering what really lay ahead in Diev. Did the smith have more devastating devices? Another surprise? Or would Diev fall as Spidlaria had?

A gust of warm rain carried the scent of pine to him as the gelding’s hoofs clattered on the narrow stone bridge.