L. Modesitt - Ordermaster

The rain would not help the white wizards, but Egen also faced a trade-off. He needed the rain to slow any reinforcements to his sire and brothers, although, from what Kharl had heard, it was likely that Vielam was also backing Egen. For the moment, Kharl could not tell exactly how far away the chaos might be, except that it had to be several kays away.

“What you doing?”

Kharl jumped slightly. He’d been so intent on tracking the chaos that he’d not paid any attention to his immediate surroundings, and Jeka had seemed to appear from nowhere. “There’s a white wizard heading in our direction, maybe more than one. I was trying to find out how far away he was.”

“Why’d you come back? Really?”

“I had to.”

“Don’t tell me it was for me.”

“I can’t lie about that.” Kharl paused. “I was worried about you and Warrl. For different reasons.” His laugh was soft and bitter. “I really thought Warrl would be mostly safe. I wasn’t sure about you.”

“I was safe.”

“I didn′t know that. I was wrong about both of you. You were safe, and he wasn’t.” Kharl looked out into the darkness, all too aware of Jeka’s warmth and presence.

“Don’t know what to make of it, do you?”

Kharl understood. He also understood that he didn’t have a good answer.

After a silence, Jeka said, “Can’t sleep. Mind if I stay here?”

“I’d like that,” Kharl admitted.

Neither spoke for a time.

Kharl continued to track the white wizards. The one from the harborarea was clearly headed up in the direction of the Quadrancy Keep, while the one from the south was nearing the residence, and was less than a kay away. With him were at least two squads of lancers.

“Jeka, would you go find the undercaptain, and tell him that there are lancers headed our way?”

“I’ll find him.” She turned, then stopped. “You can tell that?”

“Yes.”

Kharl kept tracking the wizards, but, in the few moments that passed before Demyst hurried across the front portico to where Kharl stood, the lancers and the accompanying wizard had not moved that much closer. “Ser? How long before they get here?”

“Somewhere between a quarter glass and half a glass.” Kharl looked through the darkness at Jeka. “Would you wake the retainers, Fundal and all the others, and have them go down to the cellar in the main residence?”

“Not staying there.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll need you for messages.”

Jeka was off.

“Mind of her own, that one,” Demyst said quietly. “Beauty, too, if you look close. She hides it.”

Kharl was all too aware of both.

“How do you want to handle this, ser?”

“They’ve got two squads or so. I don’t think they know who I am. You know what I mean?”

In the darkness, Demyst nodded, then replied belatedly. “They think you’re Lyras, maybe?”

“Something like that. We’ve got a couple of crossbows, don’t we?”

“Three.”

“Why don’t we just wait, and let them get close. I’ll just keep behind the stone pillars there at the corner. If our men can use the third-floor front windows, that might give them an angle.”

“You don’t want to be inside?”

“I can’t do what I need to do if I am.” That was always the problem for Kharl. While he had means of releasing great force or redirecting the chaos of a white wizard, he had to be fairly close to do so.

“I worry … someday, ser …″

“So do I,” replied Kharl.

“I’d best be getting them positioned.” Demyst slipped away into the darkness.

The force approaching the residence through the darkness was less than half a kay downhill, when Jeka reappeared. “Got everyone down in the cellar. Wanted to know why. Told ‘em that Egen sent a white wizard. Better stay down there’less they want to get burned. That right?”

“That’s right.”

“Undercaptain’s got Cevor, Alynar, and Erdyl up top with crossbows. Erdyl said he was a good shot.”

“Probably is.” Kharl felt a slight twinge of something. Jealousy? He was too old to be jealous, and in too much trouble to worry about it. “He doesn’t boast.”

“You don’t, either.”

“I try not to.”

The street and the other dwellings seemed suddenly silent, hushed as if the very structures knew that danger neared.

Kharl thought he heard hoofs on brick, but that might have been his imagination.

He kept waiting until he was certain that the muffled clop-clop-clop was indeed nearing and not something he just thought he heard.

“They’re almost here. Keep down!” he hissed at Jeka.

“I’m down.” She was crouched beneath the low stone half wall that formed the outside edge of the portico around the residence.

As the lancers drew up in the street below the residence, Kharl wondered why they were waiting-and for what. He could sense but a single white wizard, and an effort to collect free chaos.

Four lancers rode toward the gate. Between them they carried some sort of ram-sling that swung into the gate. Thud!

The four backed off, then rode forward again.

With a second thud, the gate, more decorative iron than barrier, broke open, and the four lancers turned their mounts.

As the remainder of the lancers shifted formation in some fashion, Kharl forced himself to remain behind the shelter of the stone. Then something flew past him, and the window behind him and to his left shattered, spraying glass into the residence. Flame flared up. The crossbow bolt had carried chaos.

What could Kharl do? For a moment, he just stared. Then he reached out with his order-senses, and hardened the very air around the chaos-flame, clamping a small order shield around it. The flame died. After a moment, he released both barriers, but the flame did not rekindle.

He could sense another flare of chaos headed toward the residence, and he threw up an order shield. Chaos flared against the shield, lighting the night like a lightning flash that vanished. In that moment, Kharl peered out.

Crack!

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 … CRUMPT!!!

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.