L. Modesitt - Ordermaster

“How fared that?”

Kharl shrugged. “We fought three white wizards and several companies of patrollers to the east of the barracks just south of Brysta. All were destroyed, but Overcaptain Vielam had not taken the field. After the battle he fled southward before we could reach him. I would wager that he has rejoined Captain Egen somewhere to the south, perhaps at the fort Captain Egen built along the south road.”

Osten said nothing.

“Because we knew of this fort, I decided to attack it last night. I thought that would make it easier for you to bring your lancers to Brysta and south against your rebellious brothers-if that is your intent.”

For the slightest moment, Osten’s eye strayed to the smoldering pile of stone that had been a fort. “Could you not have spared the fort?”

“Magery does not work that way,″ Kharl replied.

“Why did you come to me?” Osten’s tone was dismissive.

“When I presented my credentials,” Kharl said, “I suggested that everything was not as it should be. You chose not to listen.”

“You knew of my brother’s treachery … and you let-” Osten’s face darkened. “That is insufferable-”

“Osten … you chose not to listen.” Kharl’s patience was wearing thin. “Do you want my help or not? If I walk away, your brother and his Hamorian wizards will do even worse to you than I did to this fort.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t care about you very much. The alternatives are just worse. Your brother would be the most evil ruler the West Quadrant has ever had, and before a handful of years had passed, Hamor would rule both the West Quadrant and the South Quadrant. Austra does not want Hamor gaining a foothold so close.”

“So you will help me, whether you like me or not?”

Kharl could see Osten beginning to scheme.

“No. If you don’t promise to make the justicers more fair, and tariffs lower, and a few other things … I’ll walk away and let all of you fight over it. Then, when you’re dead, and your brother thinks he can take his pleasures, I’ll have to destroy him and the Hamorians, and then I’ll probably have to make someone like your justicers next Lord West.” Kharl wasn’t certain of any of that, but he was determined to try, and probably Reynol and Lurtedd wouldn’t be much better, possibly even worse.

“You seek to bargain.”

“No,” said Kharl coldly.

Osten′s sabre appeared from nowhere, and whistled toward Kharl.

Kharl raised the hardened air shield, and the sabre shattered against it.

Wincing, Osten dropped the useless hilt. ″You … you mages …″

Kharl released the shield, but was ready to raise it instantly “I am not bargaining. I am giving you terms. You don’t keep them, and I can return to Brysta anytime and kill you. And I will. Do you understand?”

The lord-heir swallowed.

“I am not interested in being a ruler, but I want you to be a good ruler. The kind people respect and praise, not the kind that people fear and flee.”

“You’re weak, mage.”

Kharl laughed. “Am I? Tell me that when you must have scores of guards. Tell me that when you need to have someone taste everything before you eat.”

Osten’s face darkened once more.

Alert to any movement, anyone nearing them, Kharl waited, saying nothing.

Finally, the young lord nodded. “I must accept your terms. Better you, insufferable as you are, than to lose all to Hamor.”

Kharl waited once more.

“What do you want from me?”

“To accompany you when you ride south to confront your brother. Two squads of lancers who will keep stray patrollers from getting too close to me while I attack their mages.”

Osten’s brows wrinkled. “You could do that-″

“It’s easier that way. Otherwise, I’d have to chase him. Also, he might avoid me and attack your lancers with his forces and the Hamorian wizards. They’d destroy you.”

“They still might destroy you,” Osten pointed out.

“They might. But you’re no worse off that way.” Kharl laughed ironically. Talking to Osten was more than a mere chore; it was painful. “He has at least three white wizards. You have none.” Kharl paused, then asked, “What happened to the one you had in the Quadrancy Keep?”

Osten′s face narrow face froze. For a moment, his black eyes hardened. “He was the one who betrayed us and killed my sire.”

Kharl had suspected something like that, from the wizard’s reactions when he had presented his credentials to Ostcrag, but there was little point in letting Osten know that. “You are the rightful successor to your sire.”

“What is that to you, ser mage?”

“As a mage,” Kharl shrugged, “not enough to risk my life. But as Lord Ghrant’s envoy, and one who has seen what the white wizards will do to a land, it means a great deal to me. I would not see any land fall to Hamor-or to anyone who might be their tool.”

“You think my brother is their tool?”

Kharl was ready for that question. “Don’t actions speak louder than any flowery words? What do you think?”

“I think that I need you, whether I like you or not.” Osten’s laugh was hard.

“As I need you, Lord West,” Kharl replied, “so that Hamor will be kept from both our shores. How long before all your forces are gathered?”

“Tomorrow, at the earliest.”

“Where will you assemble them?”

Osten frowned, but replied, “At the Quadrancy Keep. There is no other place suitable. It once was just that, and it will suffice for now.”

“Then I will send my secretary to yours early tomorrow, to learn when we should join you.”

“Are you leaving Brysta?”

“No. We’ve destroyed two of Egen’s forces, and one fort. I’m going to get a good meal and some rest.” Kharl smiled politely.

“Till the morrow, ser mage.”

As Kharl rode off the flat and eastward along Angle Road to rejoin the others, followed by Demyst and Erdyl, he kept his senses alert. He trusted Osten not at all. His problem was that Egen and the Hamorians were far worse.

Brysta was quiet as Kharl and the others rode back to the residence. While there were some souls about the city, they were few, and they scurried away at the sound of riders and hoofs. For the moment, that was fine with Kharl.

The moment Kharl reined up before the stable, Mantar and Fundal appeared. They assured Kharl that no one had even neared the residence.

He had not stepped into the rear hallway when Khelaya confronted him and protested, almost as if she needed to complain, that she could have fixed a better meal than they would receive if Kharl had only sent word ahead.

“I couldn’t, but it will be a good meal, and far better than anything wehave eaten,” he had replied. Then, of course, before the evening meal was even being prepared, he had to explain, briefly, but in more detail than he wished, all that had happened.

From that, Kharl escaped to his chambers, where he indulged himself with a bath, followed by a nap-one without nightmares.

Around the table that evening, everyone looked far cleaner and more rested than the night before, and there was little conversation for the first moments.

“You think we’ll ride out tomorrow, ser?” Erdyl finally asked.

“No. Egen won’t rush north. We may even have to ride to him. Osten will find that he lacks something. It will be the next day, perhaps even the day after.”

“Is that wise?”

Kharl shrugged and looked to the undercaptain.

“There’s a time for haste, and a time to wait, and times when it matters not,” the undercaptain volunteered. “When Lord Kharl destroyed the fort, that was time for haste, because there were no white wizards to protect it. I can’t see that haste matters that much now.”