The Chaos Balance

CXII

The late-afternoon sun poured through the window, but the white marble appeared cold, as did the figure in white and silver robes upon the silver and malachite throne.

“Have you gathered all the supplies necessary, Queras?” Lephi leaned forward, his figure highlighted by the light reflected off the white marble dais and the white marble wall behind the throne. To the right of the throne and back stood a figure in the white robes of a mage.

The dark-eyed officer with the crossed green sashes bowed before the dais. “We continue to gather all that is necessary.”

“An eight-day, and we still gather supplies? Surely, what I have seen cannot be all the Mirror Lancers and their equipment, can it?”

“Your pardon, Mightiness-”

“Yes?” Lephi’s voice was chill. “Do explain, Marshal Queras. Please explain.”

“Three more of the firewagons have failed…we have less than a score. We brought matched horse teams from Summerdock, but that has taken longer…” Queras’s eyes darted to the balcony above and to the open grillwork that concealed the Archers of the Rational Stars.

“What else? Surely, the failure of three firewagons cannot account for such a delay. Cannot supplies come up the Grand Canal?”

Queras swallowed and looked down at the recently buffed and polished off-white stone tiles of the hall that separated him from the dais, then at the green carpet runner on which he stood.

“Yes?” Lephi’s voice remained silky and cool.

“Three eight-days ago, another two firewagons failed…and you ordered that the ironmages supply the fireship first.”

“I may have. Even the loss of five firewagons should not create that much delay for a land such as Cyador.” Lephi smiled.

“The Grand Canal…there have also been difficulties.”

“What sort of difficulties?”

“Roots, Your Mightiness. They have choked the waterway…and there were several large stun lizards.”

Behind Lephi’s shoulder, the white-haired mage’s ruddy complexion paled.

There was silence in the small hall.

Finally, Lephi nodded. “Go. Do not return until you are ready to march…or until I summon you.”

“Yes, Your Mightiness.”

The door closed, and Lephi turned to Triendar. “So I should leave the Accursed Forest alone, old friend?”

“No.” Triendar stepped forward and inclined his head, briefly. “I told you that attempting to expand Cyador’s borders through the use of chaos could destroy us all. You said it must be done. We have done all we can, but like you, white mages cannot be in two different places at the same time.” Triendar paused briefly, then added, “The iron mages are few, and fewer with the talent are born each generation. There are not enough of them to create the fire cannon for the fireship and repair all the ailing firewagons.”

“And no one else can do this?”

“No, Sire. As you commanded years ago, we have visited every hamlet, and every village. We have even made women ironmages, and you know what…difficulty…that created, but there are still few with the talent.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Is it so much to ask, Triendar? Is it so much to ask that you and the white mages merely maintain what has been?”

“According to the ancient records, Your Mightiness-”

“You have told me about the most honorable and ancient records-from the time I was much younger. You say the talent for managing chaos and order is appearing less, but why?”

“We do not know. We have bought captives from other lands, even, but none of them have the talent.”

“And what of those three…angels?”

“They ride somewhere in the Grass Hills.”

“Is that all you can tell me?”

“The glass shows them riding. It cannot tell me which hill they climb or descend. I will keep screeing until they are somewhere that can be recognized.”

“Somewhere that can be recognized? What use are your talents?”

“I cannot change the way the world is, Sire, however much I would like.”

“Is this entire cursed world out to bring down Cyador? Is it?” Lephi glared at the white mage. “You cannot tell about these angels that destroy my lancers. You tell me that I must either do nothing and watch as Cyador slowly crumbles-or that if I try to restore her power and glory, then I now risk destroying all my ancestors built?”

“I did not put it-”

“Your words were chosen more carefully, but they mean the same thing.”

Triendar waited.

Finally, Lephi shook his head. “I will not accept it. Cyad will rise again-in my time, and under my name. It will. It must! Is that clear, Triendar?”

“Your words are clear, Your Majesty. Most clear.”

“Then gather your mages! Go!”