The Chaos Balance

CIX

“There’s your real lake.” Nylan pointed toward the silver-tinged and elongated oval in the valley below as the mare carried him along the crest of the low ridge on a dusty road that was scarcely more than a trail. The stillness of the air made it seem far later in the day than mid-morning.

“I said there was one.” Ayrlyn surveyed the valley. “Not much else here.”

Nylan nodded. Ahead on the left was a holding of some sort, and a thin line of smoke rose into the green-blue sky from near the lake, kays yet ahead.

“With water so scarce, you’d think there’d be more people around a lake,” Ayrlyn added.

“Maybe it’s salty, too.” Nylan glanced toward the holding as they rode nearer. Nothing moved.

“It didn’t feel that way.”

The angel smith reined up, and wiped his forehead. Like everywhere in Candar outside the higher Westhorns, it was hot. And like all of southern Lornth-or northern Cyador-it seemed, there wasn’t enough of a breeze to notice.

Sylenia slowed her mount gradually, clearly trying not to jolt the dozing Weryl, a slight frown wrinkling her forehead.

The lane on the left side of the road led arrowlike to three structures perhaps a hundred cubits to the west-a square house, what appeared to be a barn, and a large shed. A dark rectangular emptiness gaped where the barn door had been, and one side of the shed had caved in, imparting a rakish tilt to the sagging roof. The lane bore no tracks, but no weeds grew where ancient wagon wheels had packed the ground.

“No sign of fire,” mused Nylan. “Just worn out.” He flicked the reins and eased the mare back into a walk.

“Aren’t we all?”

“I hope not.” Nylan didn’t have to force the grin too much.

“You’re difficult, and when you’re not difficult, you’re impossible.” Ayrlyn smiled.

“Good.”

A half kay beyond the abandoned stead, the road turned south again and descended into the east end of the valley. The lake was at the west end.

“You can tell that the lake was bigger.” Ayrlyn gestured. “The flat meadows there? That’s old lake bottomland. And there are mud or sand flats around the eastern end.”

A thin plume of smoke rose from the house on the low hill to the southwest of the marshy lake.

“Why would they build a house so far from the water?” asked Nylan.

“Wadah?” asked Weryl.

“In a moment, child,” said Sylenia in a low voice.

Nylan grinned.

“I’d bet the water level’s seasonal,” Ayrlyn explained. “In the past, it might have filled the whole bottom of the valley. That abandoned holding was on the ridge too. Probably the well went when the water level dropped.”

“Another part of the puzzle.”

“It’s no puzzle,” the redhead said. “All of this part of Candar is slowly changing to a drier climate.”

The road followed what might have been the former high-water level of the lake on the north side of the valley. The grasses they rode past were thicker, with traces of green, on the bottomland below the road.

On the right side of the road grazed a scattered flock of gray-white sheep, but there was no sign of a shepherd.

“Not many people,” Ayrlyn said.

“I have the feeling that we’re on the frontiers of Cyador.”

“That’s the real puzzle,” she said. “Why would Cyador be so interested in taking over Lornth? This valley is a lot more hospitable than southern Lornth, and people have abandoned it.”

“Maybe it’s the copper, or coal, or extractive resources that they need.”

“Maybe…but why?”

Nylan shrugged. He didn’t know, and there was so much they didn’t know.

“They do not like the old people of Candar,” ventured Sylenia from where she rode slightly behind them. “Not those who live beyond their white walls.”

The faint baaaaing of the sheep drifted toward the riders, and Nylan glanced down at the animals. Still no herder or even herd dogs. A golden bird, heavy and plumpish, burst out of the knee-high grasses below the road and soared eastward toward the even higher grasses.

“That looked like some sort of pheasant.”

“If it looked like a pheasant…”

“…it probably was,” Ayrlyn concluded.

“I’d bet they taste good.” Nylan could feel himself salivating.

“They be most tasty,” Sylenia affirmed. “In Lornth, only the lords may hunt them.”

That somehow figured. Nylan studied the lake ahead. On the south side, across from where they approached, was a stand of reeds.

“You think this is safe? Or should we wait until it’s dark?”

“If anyone’s looking, they’ve already decided to do something…or not. If they have, we’ll find out quickly. If not, why give them more time? Besides, we need the water now.” Ayrlyn paused. “And I don’t feel like there are many people around here.”

“Probably not.”

Golden sand stretched back from the water on the eastern end nearly a hundred cubits with the beach running twice that in width, almost like a resort bathing area on Svenn.

“The runoff carries the sand here. The reeds hold soil and organic matter. It’s probably a very clean lake. I’d like a bath.” Ayrlyn glanced toward the house on the hill at the west end of the small lake. “This is the first real water we’ve seen in…I’m not sure how long.”

“Weryl, he could use bathing,” suggested Sylenia.

Of that Nylan was also sure. “Let’s water the mounts and fill water bottles first,” he suggested. “Just in case.”

“You’re probably right, but it feels like that one house is the only one with people in it.”

They reined up just at the edge of the sand. Nylan glanced across the lake, but no one appeared, and the thin line of smoke continued to rise into the hot midday sky.

“I’ll water the mounts over there, and you and Sylenia fill the water bottles. If no one shows up, then you three bathe, and I’ll watch.”

“I’ll bet you’ll watch! But will you watch what you’re supposed to be watching?”

“I’m trying to be practical,” Nylan protested. “Even if someone does show up, it will take time.”

Ayrlyn nodded. “I’m sorry. We’d have to hold them off while you scramble into your clothes? Or onto your horse?” She grinned. “I might just yell to see you do it, especially if your eyes stray too much when we’re bathing.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ve been warned.”

Once the water bottles were filled, Sylenia wasted no time in stripping off her riding clothes, and Weryl’s as well, and wading into the lake, dipping Weryl’s toes as she did. Although Nylan did his best to watch the house and the road in both directions, he could definitely understand Tonsar’s attraction to the young woman-although he was glad Tonsar wasn’t around to see Ayrlyn’s charms.

“Watch the road,” she called.

He flushed and ostentatiously turned his head.

“That’s better.”

Once the three left the water, he concentrated even more on studying the road and the hillside.

“All right,” Ayrlyn called as she finished pulling on her boots. “You can stop being so obviously a prudish martyr. You saw more than enough, and don’t tell me you didn’t.”

He couldn’t help grinning at the humor in her voice.

“It’s your turn.”

He dismounted and handed all the reins to the redhead, then pulled off his boots, then his clothes. The water was barely cool, close to warmish, as Nylan waded in, very much conscious that both Sylenia and Ayrlyn watched. The slope of the sandy part was gradual, so gradual that he had to walk almost a hundred cubits before the water reached his thighs. By then the sand had given way to soft mud that squushed up between his toes.

Finally, he plunged in, enjoying the coolness on his skin. The golden sand helped scrub away the grime of what seemed more than a season, although he kept looking toward the house on the hillside as he washed.

As he walked back up the sandy slope to the beach, he turned and glanced toward the hillside house, but could see no change, no puffs of dust that might indicate riders, just the same thin line of smoke from the chimney. Was someone baking or cooking, and just not looking outside?

For a moment, he just stood in the sunlight, wiping off water with his hands before he tried to dry himself with the small square of cloth that doubled as a towel.

Ayrlyn’s eyes flicked from the hillside toward the silver-haired angel. “Nice view.”

“Thanks.” Nylan couldn’t help flushing, even as he saw that Sylenia busied herself with not looking in his direction and holding a water bottle for Weryl. “See anyone?”

“No one, and it’s not as if there were any cover.”

Nylan wasn’t sure whether he had minded washing up in plain view, or if the tightness in his stomach came from wondering whether anyone happened to be coming. He pulled on his clothes.

Once he was dressed, he and Ayrlyn alternated washing out their spare sets of undergarments…and still no one appeared on the road.

“Maybe we should camp here?” suggested Sylenia.

Nylan and Ayrlyn exchanged glances.

Both shook their heads.

“Too open, and we need to get where we’re going,” Nylan finally said. Staying just didn’t feel right, and he could sense that Ayrlyn felt exactly the same way.

He slipped into the saddle, looking back to see that the damp undergarments remained fastened to the outside of his saddlebags.

The road curved up the hillside and past the single dwelling where smoke still drifted from the chimney, but the doors were closed, and the shutters on the lower levels were fastened tight.

“They don’t like strangers,” Nylan said.

“I can’t imagine raiders would come this far south. A xenophobic culture, you think?”

“This far away from any towns? I don’t know.”

Sylenia cast a longing look back at the blue of the lake as they rode over the hill crest.