Eightday. He’d been sleeping or unconscious for two days. “What’s happened? The rebels …?”
“The lord-chancellor … he said to tell you not to worry. He’s been stopping by.”
Kharl belatedly remembered his manners. “I’m sorry. I can’t see you. Could you tell me who you are?”
“Yes, ser. I’m Renella. I’m an apprentice to Istya. Anew apprentice, ser.”
“You’ve been most kind, Renella.” Kharl took another swallow of ale. Outside of the headache, which had begun to fade with the ale, and his lack of vision, he didn’t feel that poorly, although his left hand was also sore. But what had he done that had left him unable to see? Had it come from being surrounded by all the chaos he had released? Or was there a problem for an order-mage to handle chaos-even indirectly?
“I haven’t done much, ser. I’ve just been watching you.”
“Thank you.” A scuffing followed, with a slight breeze wafting over Kharl. “Lord-chancellor … he’s awake, ser.” After the briefest of pauses, she added, “If you need anything, ser Kharl, I’ll be back shortly.”
Kharl heard Hagen’s boots on the polished stone of the floor and the shoes of the departing apprentice.
“You look all right,” offered Hagen.
“I can’t see,” Kharl said. “Other than that …”
“Did you get hit in the head?”
“It has to do with magery, I think. I couldn’t see for a day or two after the battle in Dykaru, either.”
“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”
“I’m sure.” Kharl tried to keep the irritation out of his voice. “Too much chaos is what causes the problem.”
“You’re an order-mage.”
“What I did, remember … it released chaos.”
“You had said …” ventured Hagen.
“I said I could do it. I hadn’t realized what would happen. Most of this is still new to me.”
Hagen said nothing, and Kharl wished that he could see the lord-chancellor’s face. “What happened at the harbor?” he finally asked.
“We got off two complete volleys from all the cannon,” Hagen said dryly. “They stopped and marched back down the causeway. They lost around a hundred armsmen.”
“You don’t sound that happy.”
“I’m not. It was a feint. Hensolas had sent half his armsmen north to join the troops Fergyn already had. That was so that Fergyn could leave enough in place to threaten the Great House and still take the dockyards and warehouses.”
“But not the harbor?”
“They got the supplies from the warehouses, and they have enough armsmen that they can take the harbor anytime.” Hagen laughed, bitterly. “They’ve put you out of action for at least a while. It only cost them a hundred men, and those armsmen really were Lord Ghrant’s armsmen.”
“You think they’re waiting for help from Hamor?”
“I’d not be surprised.”
“What else?”
“They want us to attack them and be the ones that destroy the warehouses and dockworks?”
“So Lord Ghrant is the one who is hurting people?”
There was silence, although Kharl had the feeling that Hagen had nodded.
This time, Kharl waited, taking a sip of the ale from the mug that he still held.
“Casolan’s been delayed. Forces under Lord Azeolis have been harassing him, and that has slowed his progress toward Valmurl.”
“Azeolis?” Kharl had never heard the name.
“He’s a distant cousin of Malcor. His holdings are in the high hills to the south of the mountains that border Vizyn.”
“That’s a long way north. How did he get far enough south to attack Casolan unless …”
“Unless he’d been ordered to do so from the beginning? He couldn’t have.”
The more Kharl heard, the less he liked what was happening, and the bad news seemed unending.
“So there are more lords involved than you thought, and they’ve planned this out in more detail?”
“It would seem so.” Hagen’s voice was flat.
Kharl took another long swallow of ale, almost finishing the mug. “What do you think they’ll do next?”
“If they’ve planned this carefully … then they must have something worked out to wipe out Casolan’s forces.”
“Can you change his marching route?”
“I’d thought of that. They’ll think that he’ll take the shortest route. If he takes another way, that will at least give them pause.” Hagen’s sigh was soft, but audible. “All I can do is give them pause.”
Kharl took a last swallow and finished the ale.
“How soon …?”
“I don’t know,” the mage admitted. “It could be tomorrow; it could be an eightday.” He had to think out what he was doing with his order-skills far better than he had before-and that was if he got his sight back-before the rebellion took over all of Austra.
“I’ll talk to you later,” offered Hagen. “I hope you’re up and can see before long.”
So did Kharl. He also hoped that he could offer Hagen and Ghrant much more aid than he had so far-and that he could find a way to remedy the damage he had inadvertently caused.
He sat in the bed, in his darkness, fretting over the rebellion he had sparked and pondering what lay ahead.
XV
Oneday came and went, and twoday dawned warmer and clearer. While Kharl was up and out of bed, he still could not see, but he could employ his order-senses-sparingly-to get around. The need for deliberation in movement made him think about Jeka, although he could not have said why, and about Warrl. He did understand why he had thought about his younger son. His own lack of deliberation and understanding had been one of the reasons that had forced the boy into seeking shelter with Merayni. He couldn’t have explained why he’d thought about Jeka, but he did.
At the moment, there was little Kharl could do about either Jeka or Warrl, and if he didn’t find a way to be more effective in helping Lord Ghrant, he might never be in a position to help either of them. Yet, without seeing, he could not read The Basis of Order, and his reflections on what he had recalled seemed to spin him in circles.
Finally, when he had not heard from Hagen by late morning on twoday, he decided to make his way down to the lord-chancellor’s study. He had to wait outside for close to half a glass before the lord-chancellor was free, and, using just his order-senses, he did not recognize either of the lords who left, although he caught the names-Shachar and Harunis.
“I’m glad you’re up and around.” Those were the first words fromHagen, even before Kharl eased into the chair across the table desk from the lord-chancellor.
“I still can’t see, but the headaches are gone. What are the rebels doing?”
“Having their own problems, thankfully. According to the scouts and various rumors, Lord Hedron doesn’t trust Hensolas, and threatened to withhold supplies and support if Fergyn wasn’t given the right of summary refusal on any of Hensolas’s plans. That might gain us another few days.”
“How long before the first companies of Casolan’s forces near Valmurl?”
“I don’t know. I sent word to him. I ordered him to take a different route. I left it up to him as to what route it should be since I cannot be certain that any choice I made might not be passed to Hensolas or Fergyn.” Hagen cleared his throat. “I also got a messenger from him, and the report that he crushed a company of rebels under Azeolis. He’s very cautious, though. He didn’t pursue, because he had reports that Azeolis had five more companies.”
“That would make sense to me,” Kharl replied. “Lord Ghrant needs those forces here more than he needs to defeat five companies away from Valmurl.” After a moment of silence, he asked, “Is that not so … or is there something I don’t know?” He almost had said “don’t see.”
“No. With the disunity among the rebels, Casolan’s companies may be enough to stop their attacks.” Hagen laughed ironically. “Now … if only you could find a way to remove them from the dockworks and warehouse areas.”
“Order doesn’t seem to work that way.” Kharl paused before adding, “Not for most mages, anyway, and the ones who can do more with it haven’t shared how they did.”