Ordermaster

IX

On sevenday morning, Kharl woke in the grayness before dawn. His entire chest was one dull aching mass, but that was not what had wakened him. He could sense chaos … somewhere beyond the Great House … and it seemed to be getting nearer.

Much as he tried to hurry, dressing was a chore. Bending enough to get on his boots was near agony, and getting on his tunic was almost as bad. He didn’t bother with much in the way of washing up, not when he knew time was short, and not after what had happened to Charsal and the armsmen guarding Vatoran.

As Kharl made his way stiffly to the outer door of his quarters, he could have used the black staff he’d destroyed in fighting Ilteron and one of the Hamorian white wizards-but just for support. He felt old and tired-and all because of one moment of carelessness.

“Ser?” The guards stiffened as Kharl stepped out.

“I’m headed up to the north tower. Could one of you find the lord-chancellor and tell him that there’s a white wizard headed this way?”

“Ah …”

The two exchanged glances. Then the taller and dark-haired sentry nodded. “Will you be wanting to meet with him?”

“Just tell him that there’s a white wizard and that I’ll be in the north tower. On top.”

“Yes, ser.”

Kharl turned and headed toward the stone stairs that would take him to the third level. Then he’d have to take another passageway to reach the circular steps that led to the top of the tower. Behind him, he could hear the low murmurs, words he could not have made without his order-senses.

“ … mages … strange …”

“ … leastwise, ours goes out and fights …”

Kharl wasn’t so sure that what he’d done merited being called fighting, but he was glad they thought of him as one of theirs. He moved deliberately, but it took him twice as long, if not longer, to climb to the top of thetower as it would have normally, and he had to stop twice. Breathing was harder with his chest bound and sore.

His breath steamed as he stepped through the narrow doorway and walked to the eastern side of the tower. From there, standing behind battlements that were more decorative than functional, on the open top of the north tower, Kharl had a sweeping view of both the grounds of the Great House and of Valmurl. Walls a third of a kay on a side surrounded the Great House, with the main eastern gates in the front on the avenue. There was also a delivery gate on the avenue, but near the south end of the wall, and a small bailey gate in the middle of the north wall. Lawns and gardens extended immediately behind the main structure, with outbuildings farther to the rear against the north and south walls.

The Great House stood on a rise more than a kay west of the center of Valmurl, and nearly two kays from the harbor. From his viewpoint, Kharl could just barely make out the dry docks to the north of the harbor where the Seastag had been repaired and refitted more than a season earlier. He could also discern Traders’ Square and the Guard Barracks to the south, barracks now empty because Kenslan had earlier marched the armsmen west, then north.

The eastern horizon lightened as Kharl made his survey. Then the top edge of the white disc that was the sun flared above the dark waters of the harbor and the western ocean beyond. Overhead, the sky was mostly clear, with only a hint of hazy clouds over the hills to the west of Valmurl, hills still dotted with snow near their crests.

Kharl walked around the parapets, slowly, letting his order-senses extend beyond the low gray stone walls around the Great House. To the north, beyond where the avenue that passed in front of the Great House turned into the winding road that eventually led to the Nierran Hills, Kharl could sense a concentration of chaos. He could see nothing.

He frowned. That was not quite right. His eyes seemed to dart away, to avoid one spot on the road. So the white wizard had something like a sight shield as well? Kharl had thought that had to be the case. Otherwise, how else had they managed to get close enough to kill the armsmen guarding Vatoran?

He tried to judge the distance, but he wasn’t that familiar with Valmurl. The white wizard was more than a kay away, closer to two. As Kharl watched and sensed, occasionally, he thought he saw a puff of dust, but that could have been his imagination.

At the sound of boots on the stones of the tower, he turned.

“A white wizard headed this way?” Hagen, wearing a black jacket trimmed in green, walked toward Kharl.

The mage waited until Hagen was almost beside him. “There … out on the north road, I’d say half a kay beyond where the avenue ends.”

Hagen leaned forward. “I don’t see anything.”

“He has a sight shield. Your eyes feel like they’re moving away from the road.”

Hagen blinked several times. “Hmmm … I feel something, but I still don’t see anything. How big a force does he have with him?”

“It’s hard to tell. It’s less than a company, I think. This wizard feels stronger than the one that attacked Charsal. He might be the one that Kenslan mentioned.”

“Or another one from Hamor.”

Kharl didn’t like that possibility at all.

“What can you do about him?” asked Hagen.

“To do much of anything, I’d have to get close to him.”

“It would be better if you didn’t,” Hagen said. “They have two mages. They may have more.” The lord-chancellor frowned. “Will you be able to see exactly where this white wizard is when he gets closer to the Great House?”

“Not exactly see,” Kharl admitted. “I’ll know where he is.”

“Can you describe it? Well enough so that crossbowmen can aim a quarrel?”

“I could. What about rifles-No. I suppose he could set off the powder.”

“That’s why no one uses rifles against white wizards, and why cannon are used sparingly and set apart. Except on iron-hulled warships.” Hagen’s voice turned dry. “It’s also why there are never very many experienced artillerymen. Even without mages around, it’s still possible for free chaos to set off the powder.”

Kharl used his order-senses to study the approaching wizard. “I’d say two squads are with him. That’s a guess, though.”

“We could put a half score of crossbowmen in the gate towers with you, and we could have others wind and cock.”

“We can try. If he heads for the main gates. If he doesn’t … then I can always try something else,” Kharl admitted.

“We’d better get moving,” Hagen said.

“I’ll meet you there.”

“You’re still sore, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Kharl was more than sore, but what was the point of admitting it? It had been his own carelessness, and he still had to do something about the white wizards, whether he was hurt or not. “I’ll be there.”

Hagen nodded, hurried across the top of the tower, and vanished through the door in the archway. He left the door ajar in his haste.

Kharl followed, not quite so swiftly, descending the steep steps with care, since there were no railings, and the centers of the stone treads had been hollowed out by years of usage.

The corridors of the Great House seemed empty, even emptier than he might have expected nearing end-day. Was that because people were slipping away, afraid that the rebel lords would overthrow Lord Ghrant?

Kharl made his way down to the main level, then out across the front courtyard. As he crossed the stone-paved expanse, a half squad of armsmen in yellow and black bearing crossbows hurried past him. By the time Kharl reached the gate tower, its lower entrance was guarded by two armsmen in yellow and back.

“The lord-chancellor is waiting topside for you, ser mage.”

“You a former sailor?”

“Yes, ser.”

“I know I’ll be in good hands, then.” Kharl smiled and stepped through the narrow doorway. The stone steps up the gate tower were even narrower and steeper than the north tower, although the gate tower itself only rose some thirty cubits above the courtyard and the avenue it overlooked.

The small room at the top of the stairs held four armsmen serving as loaders. Kharl saw that they had more than ten crossbows set out, ready to wind and cock. He nodded as he eased past them in the crowded space and out onto the semicircular battlement overlooking the avenue.

Standing behind the center merlon, Kharl began to search for the rebel wizard, with both order-senses and eyes.

Directly across the avenue from the gate towers was the Lord’s Park-almost a garden with topiary and grass and stone paths. Around the park were the town dwellings of various lords and wealthy merchants and factors, none over two stories, by decree. Kharl studied the avenue to the north. While someone might have expected so little traffic just after dawn on eightday-that there were so few out on sevenday, usually a market day, was disturbing. He could see a servant hanging out wash in the side courtof a modest dwelling across the avenue and perhaps thirty rods to the northeast, and a doorman standing on the porch of a dwelling even farther north, but no riders or carriages were visible on the avenue-not to the eye. After a moment, Kharl could sense the wizard and the riders who accompanied him, now on the avenue itself, and less than a kay away.

“They’re about three quarters of a kay to the north,” he said, before Hagen could ask him. “They’re moving at a quick walk.”

“A quarter glass before they’re in range,” Hagen announced. “I’ve had all the other guards stationed behind stone and out of sight.”

Kharl should have thought of that. Stone was about the only thing, besides thick and heavy iron or an order shield, that could stop a large firebolt.

Silently, Kharl and Hagen watched the avenue.

Kharl concentrated for a moment, just briefly, on throwing up a weaker shield, one that partly hardened the air but was coated with a thin layer of order to deflect something like a firebolt. He dropped it instantly, but he had wanted to make sure that he was ready.

“I don’t see any signs of them, not even any dust off the stones,” Hagen said, after a time. “Shouldn’t they be fairly close by now?”

“No sound, either …” murmured an armsman behind them.

Kharl frowned. “They’ve split. The riders are headed down a lane to the east.”

“There they are! On the lane north of the Lord’s Park,” called one of the armsmen.

“They’re headed toward Lord Lahoryn’s dwelling,” murmured Hagen. “Right in the open.” He turned. “Theragon! Get a squad over to Lord Lahoryn’s dwelling! Now!”

“Yes, ser!” came back a call from lower in the tower.

“Close the main gates behind our squad!” Hagen glanced at Kharl. “The rebels will ride off, but it will stop the destruction.”

Even as he spoke, the riders fired several times. After a moment, one of the riders dismounted and opened the iron gates to the courtyard in front of the mansion.

Why were they attacking a supporter of Lord Ghrant, and so close to the Great House? With the others, Kharl watched. Then he shook his head. Where was the white wizard? Outside of a vague feeling that the wizard was somewhere north of the Great House, he could not pin down where the other was.

“Kharl?” asked Hagen.

“The white wizard … he’s disappeared.”

“Disappeared? Where?”

“I can’t tell.”

“A diversion! Do you have any idea where he was?” demanded Hagen.

“To the north … somewhere.”

“The bailey gate-that has to be it. We need to get there before he does.” The lord-chancellor whirled and headed for the stairs. After a moment, Kharl followed, trying to ignore his various aches.

“Send a squad right behind us!” Hagen snapped at the senior squad leader at the top of the tower stairs. “We’re headed for the north bailey gate.”

“Third squad! After the lord-chancellor! Loaders, too!”

Kharl felt as though he were more staggering than anything else as he followed Hagen down the gate-tower steps, back across the courtyard, then around the north side of the Great House. By the time they neared the bailey gate, Kharl was breathing hard, and every breath was agony against his bruised ribs.

Even from a good fifty cubits away, he could see that there was no one at the bailey gate, a gate far too small for mounted entry, and that the gate was ajar.

Then the solid oak gate flew open, and rebel armsmen in the green-and-black uniforms of Austra rushed through.

Kharl could feel chaos building. A shadowy figure appeared behind the armsmen, and a firebolt flew toward Hagen, Kharl, and the armsmen flanking the lord-chancellor.

“Fire!” snapped Hagen.

Four armsmen with crossbows halted and fired. Quarrels flew past Kharl. Most of them missed, and Kharl could see several skitter off the paving stones short of the bailey gate. One bounced away from the indistinct figure of the white wizard, who had created a shield.

At the same time, Kharl did the same.

Chaos flared outward from the bailey gate and nearly simultaneously, two quarrels struck the back side of the shield and rebounded toward Kharl and Hagen, one dropping but a few cubits from Kharl’s boots.

“Have them stop firing!” Kharl said, still holding the shield as another firebolt flared across the north courtyard.

“Reload and hold!”

Yet another blast of chaos flared against Kharl’s shields, but it was weaker than the earlier chaos-fire.

Kharl tried to reach out to see if he could harden the air around the white wizard, but the distance was either just a trace too far-or perhaps it was because the white wizard had his own shields.

A third blast of chaos flared against Kharl’s shields, still weaker than the first two.

As Kharl sensed that the white wizard was trying to recover, he dropped his own shields. “Have them fire now!”

“Resume fire!”

This time, the quarrels began to strike the handful of rebel lancers.

Another firebolt arced over the rebels toward Kharl, and he deflected it back toward the white wizard.

Chaos flared around the wizard, and one of the rebel armsmen flared into flame, screaming, if only for a moment, before pitching onto the stones.

“Back! Now!” ordered someone, and within moments, the area inside the bailey gate held only those loyal to Lord Ghrant.

“Secure the gate!” ordered Hagen. “Two of you hold it!”

The sound of hoofs on stone echoed through the still-open gate, but faded quickly as the gate closed and the riders departed northward along the back lane.

Four rebels lay on the stones of the courtyard, just inside the gate.

“ … won’t try that again …” murmured one of the crossbowmen to Kharl’s left.

Kharl had his doubts about that. The rebels might well try another sneak attack. They knew that Ghrant only had one mage. He looked at Hagen.

The older man offered a crooked smile. “Best we take what we can,” he said in a low voice.

Kharl realized that sweat was streaming down his forehead and that his ribs were aching more than they had-but not too much more. Carefully raising his right arm, he blotted the sweat away with his sleeve. He extended his order-senses, just to make sure that the attackers were continuing northward. While he could not tell if all the riders continued away from the Great House, the white wizard certainly had.

“They’re still riding north?” asked Hagen.

“The wizard is.”

“Stand by here. Don’t open that gate for anyone until either the captain or I tell you to,” Hagen ordered. “The mage and I need to check on some matters.” He nodded to Kharl. “You go first. I’ll be right behind you.” His voice lowered to barely more than a murmur. “You need to eat. You’re as pale as those dressings on your chest.”

Belatedly, Kharl realized that he did feel slightly light-headed. “I didn’t have time to eat.”

“Neither did I. Would you join me?”

“I’d be happy to.”

Before long the two were in a small dining room less than thirty cubits from Hagen’s receiving chamber. There were but two circular tables, and no one else was there-except for a serving girl.

“Two full breakfasts, with hot spiced cider,” Hagen said, even before he seated himself.

Kharl sank gratefully into the chair across the table from the lord-chancellor.

“This morning’s skirmish will hearten the personal guard,” Hagen noted. “They’ll all be saying how you were stronger than the rebel mage.”

“Order is better at defending, I think.”

“It also may buy us some time.” Hagen paused. “Why couldn’t you sense him for a time there?”

“He knew I was looking. He stopped using chaos at all. That was how I found him to begin with. He needed it to get the armsmen close to the Great House, but then he dropped all his shields and stopped using chaos. He and the smaller force slipped behind the bigger dwellings to the north, where we couldn’t see them, and circled around to come down the lane behind the houses toward the bailey gate.”

“That’s probably how they got in to take Vatoran. They had to bribe someone. I’d wager that the armsman who left the gate open is long gone.” Hagen shook his head. “None of this helps. It was very clever. Even if the attempt to get into the Great House failed, they attacked one of Lord Ghrant’s supporters right here in Valmurl, and they got inside the Great House-twice, if anyone tells about how Vatoran escaped. Word will get around that Lord Ghrant can’t even protect those close to him.”

All of it had started with Kharl showing that the chief factor had lied, and matters just kept getting worse … “What did you want to talk about?”

Hagen smiled. “Nothing. I just wanted to get you fed. I also didn’t want anyone to notice how much that cost you.”

“I’ll be better in a few days. I should have kept up practicing using magery.”

“You’ll get plenty of practice in the next few eightdays.”

Kharl had no doubts about that.

“Here comes the hot cider.”

Kharl let Hagen fill both mugs, then drank slowly. He was hungry.