L. Modesitt - Wellspring of Chaos

“Ilteron will bring his forces south and attempt to crush Ghrant before most of the lords, landowners, and factors come to understand how evil Ilteron truly is.” For a moment, Hagen’s lips tightened. “Doubtless the Emperor of Hamor has suggested that he can spare wizards, ships, and armsmen for but a limited time, in order to force Ilteron to act quickly.”

“So that there will be a war that weakens both sides and leaves Austra divided and in chaos?” suggested Kharl.

“For a former cooper, you have come to understand matters quickly, far more quickly than most of the lords of Austra, I fear.”

“Several times, you have been addressed as ‘Lord,’” Kharl said.

“And you would like to know why?”

“If it would not trouble you.”

Hagen laughed once. “I am a lord, of sorts. My father was the arms-commander for Lord Estbach. Lord Estbach was Lord Estloch’s father and the one who became Lord of Austra when his own brother died without proper heirs. My father was gifted with the lands of South Shilton. They are most rocky, fit for goats and sheep, if that, and without meadows, trees worthy of the name, or even a sizable stream. For that reason, and because my father was much respected, no one much cared about the gifting. After my father’s death, I borrowed against them to purchase my first vessel. I was lucky in my trading, and was able to repay the loan. I have not borrowed since, and consider myself most fortunate in that respect.”

“I don’t think that’s the entire tale,” replied Kharl, “but I’d not ask for more.”

“I was also the head of Lord Ghrant’s personal guard for a brief time, a few years back. It was not a happy experience for either of us.”

From what he had seen of Hagen and heard of Ghrant, Kharl could not say that he was surprised.

“It was not a position I desired,” Hagen said, “but Lord Estloch prevailed upon me, and because of what I felt I owed, I did what was necessary and as quickly as possible, and Lord Ghrant and I remained on speaking terms. And there you have it, carpenter and mage.”

“I’m not a mage,” Kharl replied. “I can do a few things that use order, but I’m far from a mage.”

Hagen smiled. “You’re hard on yourself.”

“Not any harder than you are on yourself, ser.”

Hagen shook his head ruefully. “I think not, but the passing years will tell.”

“When will we put back to sea?”

“Not for a time yet. None of the cargo is that urgent.”

Kharl nodded politely. It was clear that Hagen intended to see what happened, perhaps even have the Seastag standing by as a way for Ghrant and his family to leave Dykaru-and Austra-if necessary. “You think things could get bad here?”

“If there’s a fleet from Hamor that appears offshore…that will tell you how bad it is.”

“I hope not.”

“Nor I, but my luck hasn’t run that deep in recent years.” Hagen inclined his head. “Thank you again.” Then he turned and was gone.

Kharl glanced out to the west at the peaceful view of the white-walled buildings of Dykaru, set against the greenery. After a time, he turned away and headed down to the carpenter shop. With little carpentry to do, he would try to glean more from The Basis of Order .

For the next day and a half, Kharl and Tarkyn worked on minor repairs to the exterior of the paddle wheel frames. The repairs were not immediately necessary, but there was little point in postponing them, since the damage would only increase over time, especially in winter. They also put another coat of finish on the new weapons locker, taking advantage of the warmer weather in Dykaru.

After completing the locker’s finish work in the late afternoon, Kharl had taken a break and stood on the aft part of the poop, looking to the northwest, out across the harbor and the white walls and tile roofs of the town. Well beyond the keep of Lord Ghrant, he could sense something in the distance. He guessed that if he could have seen farther, he would have seen or sensed a white mist, the kind that surrounded a chaos-wizard-or wizards.

“You feel something?”

Kharl turned to see Hagen standing by the wheel platform.

The carpenter shrugged. “I’m not certain, but I think there’s a white wizard coming toward Dykaru from the northwest. There’ll be more than one, but I don’t know how many.”

“If so, I can’t say I’m surprised,” Hagen replied. “Ghrant’s arms-commander-and most of the regular officers-thought that Ilteron would take Valmurl first. That never made sense to me.”

“Why not?” asked Kharl, in spite of himself. “He’d gain control of the capital and the largest port in Austra.”

“Ilteron’s strength is in the west, and he’s not that well loved in the east. Why fight over a city that Ghrant’s abandoned? All he would do would be to damage what he hopes to gain. If he defeats Ghrant, Valmurl will be that much easier to take. In fact, most would accept his rule as necessary, if not exactly welcome.”

“Even if they don’t care for him?”

“The alternative would be worse. If Ilteron defeats Ghrant, he will either kill him and his family or drive them from Austra. He will try for the first. It makes matters much easier.” Hagen’s tone turned dryly ironic. “Once that happens, what can the landholders do? Support someone else and prolong the war and destruction? Even if someone managed to kill Ilteron, and if one of Ghrant’s sons survived, or Ilteron’s, at best, Austra would be looking at a long regency, at worst another ambitious lord trying to seize power from underage and untried heirs. And that would make it far easier for the Emperor of Hamor.”

“If I happened to be Ilteron,” Kharl suggested, “I’d be looking behind me as well as before. That’d be more true if I won.”

“You’re even more suspicious than I am, mage.”

“As suspicious, perhaps. Not more. You must have considered that long ago.”

Hagen laughed.

“How long will we stay in Dykaru? Until the outcome is certain-one way or the other?”

“Unhappily.”

Kharl understood that. “Is there any way you can help Lord Ghrant?”

“At the moment, I know of nothing else to be done. I have no armsmen, only a handful of unarmed vessels. We’ll have to see what opportunities arise.”

If any do, thought Kharl bleakly.

Two more days passed, and Hagen remained onshore somewhere, leaving Furwyl in charge of the Seastag . After finishing the paddle wheel frame repairs, and giving the first weapons locker another coat of finish, because it looked too worn compared to the new locker, Kharl and Tarkyn retreated to the carpenter shop, where Tarkyn continued to work on his scrimshaw, and Kharl read and reread The Basis of Order .

Kharl searched the book for something that might explain what he had done by hardening the air and the water, but he could find nothing that mentioned what he had done, not in so many words. One passage offered a general thought:

Order is like glue, in that it links all together, while chaos is but the opposite. Its power lies in separating…and when even the smallest bits of that which surround us are separated, basic fire and the heat of flame are released. A chaos-wizard channels that fire and flame, and yet he must use order to do so, lest he be separated from himself by the powers of separation…

So he had been using order like glue? Kharl frowned. It made sense in a fashion, and yet, it did not, because no glue could turn air into a shield against a crossbow bolt.

He let the book drop, considering. Nowhere in the entire book, he realized, was there actually a description of how to use order or chaos to accomplish anything. There were only insights, observations, and explanations about the world or how matters worked. Had it been written that way on purpose? Or because it had been written by someone who was making discoveries as he wrote?