The Chaos Balance

CVIII

A smaller version of the silver and malachite throne no more than four cubits high rested on the white marble dais. The white marble wall behind the throne rose to a balcony covered with open grillwork that concealed the Archers of the Rational Stars.

Lephi studied the throne, then turned to Triendar. “Be still, old friend, and just listen.”

He gestured to the two tall Mirror Lancers who stood by the double doors, and they opened the doors. A tall man entered the hall, wearing the uniform of the Mirror Lancers, a uniform without the green sash and no longer white, but smeared with charcoal and blood, and with yellow and red dust ground into the fabric. The doors closed. The majer bowed. “Your Mightiness.” His voice was even, resigned, calm.

“I have been told that you commanded the force that took the mines, and lost them, and that you returned with less than a third of your command.” Lephi’s voice was cold. “Is that accurate?”

“Yes, Your Mightiness.”

“Is it also true that you failed to mine the copper and sent none back to Cyad?”

“We mined the copper, Your Mightiness, and sent the wagons to Syadtar. I do not know what happened after that. During the entire campaign, I received no dispatches and no supplies.”

“I will not have it!” Lephi glanced around the room, less than a tenth the size of the receiving hall in Cyad.

Majer Piataphi stood below the dais, resigned, waiting.

“Why did you return? Why did you bother? The Archers of the Rational Stars have terminated many for far less. So have the white mages.” Lephi’s head inclined fractionally, in the direction of Triendar, who stood to his left, a pace back from the rearmost part of the throne.

“I saw no point in having the rest of the foot and lancers slaughtered.” Piataphi shrugged. “We received no supplies. We lacked enough horse to attack, and there was no forage. The barbarians would not stand and fight, except when they could find smaller detachments and outnumbered them.”

“You left with more than enough mounts.”

“In the middle of the night, the barbarians cast fireballs over the walls and into the barracks and stables and corrals. They were not like the fireballs of the white mages, for they left no trails in the sky. We drove them off, but not before we lost nearly sevenscore mounts.”

Triendar’s hands, hidden in his flowing sleeves, tightened into near fists, but his face remained impassive.

“I need no more catalogues of failure.” Lephi smiled. “You almost hope I will turn the Archers of the Rational Stars on you, Majer. I won’t. You will lead the van against the grasslands barbarians, and you will lead from the front of the very first squad.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Go!”

The majer turned, rather than backed away, and walked toward the double doors, which the lancers opened as he approached.

After the doors closed, Lephi walked to the window at the right end of the chamber and looked beyond the white stone walls toward the browned Grass Hills. “Fireballs, supplies and copper that never arrived-what do you make of it?” He did not turn toward the mage, but left his eyes on the Grass Hills.

“He tells the truth-”

“I know that!” Lephi turned but did not move from his position by the window. “The man is honest, and he saved troops that would have been slaughtered. But it should not have happened that way. The barbarians should attack valiantly and break against the lancers, as they have always done. There should be no fireballs in Lornth. You told me that the three white mages of the barbarians had been killed.”

“There are the angels.”

“Do we know there are angels in Lornth?”

“There is…something…” Triendar admitted. “I have seen a man and a woman and a child, but only those three.”

“Only three?”

“Only three. There is the Accursed Forest-”

“Always the forest…will Cyad…” Lephi clamped his jaw shut. “Find out more about the three. And be prepared to bring all manner of fire upon the barbarians when we meet on the field.”

“Yes, Sire.” Triendar bowed, just deeply enough for the gesture not to be mocking.