LE Modesitt Recluce 01 The Magic of Recluce (v1.5)

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Anyway, all I did to Antonin was throw a reversed shield around us, to
reflect energy away from as small a circle as I could hold. He maintained
himself by drawing from the chaos-forces around. With the shield up, he
couldn t draw, at least so long as I could keep him from taking my
order-energies. I shrugged. Without that energy, he just died.
Justen nodded. How many people could build a screen like that?
Probably any good order-master& I didn t think about it.
He nodded again. How many blackstaffers could and would break their only
defense in front of a white wizard?
That was stupid, I guess. I didn t know if it would work, but holding onto
it wouldn t have protected me for very much longer, and the staff kept getting
in the way. Besides, that s what the book said.
You re right. But& no one else, not since before Frven, has stood
face-to-face with the highest of chaos-masters and triumphed. Justen gestured
out at the town. You wonder why everyone bows and scrapes and won t look at
you? That s why. You wonder why Talryn is quaking in his sandals? Every
chaos-master and order-master in the Western Hemisphere heard Antonin fail-
That s fine, except I m not an ancient order-master. I m even ready for
Tamra s bitching. At least that s real. I m ready to go back to crafting.
That s real, too.
Justen smiled. Who said you couldn t?
Right! Good old Lerris is so smart& so why didn t I at least pick up some
of Antonin s ill-gotten loot before I dashed out? I might have three gold
pennies left in my pouch. That s not enough even for tools.
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I suspect that the reward the autarch is about to confer-
Another ceremony? I groaned. Having half the city lined up at the gate
and waving banners-very quietly-had been bad enough. Even Yelena had looked in
my direction and grinned.
Your burden to bear. That s another price for heroism.
None of that answered my questions, but then, no one else would probably
ever answer them.
How s Tamra? I changed the subject.
Ask her yourself. I ll send her up here shortly. He smiled. She will
bitch at you. She told me she would.
I let him go. He wasn t about to answer the real questions, not the ones I
wasn t about to ask, and that still hadn t changed. So I waited.
And waited.
And waited, remembering in time that Tamra had never been punctual for
anyone.
Click. She didn t like knocking, either.
Those blue china-doll eyes, cold as ice, took me in as Tamra
stepped-clothed in dark-gray once more, wearing a bright-blue scarf-onto the
chill and sunlit balcony. Her red hair glinted in the light as she edged up to
the railing; then she turned to look at me. She was wearing it longer, with
matching black combs sweeping it away from her face.
Good morning, Lerris.
Good morning, Tamra.
I walked over to the edge. I was careful out of habit not to stand too
close-either to the railing, or to Tamra-and looked out on Kyphrien.
As the silence continued, I said nothing, for it was not my turn to speak.
A puffy white cloud edged toward the sun, casting a brief shadow across the
narrow walled balcony where we contained a corner of Recluce, a corner that
needed to be expanded beyond the black walls of the Brotherhood, beyond the
black walls of Nylan and the narrow confines of the High Temple.
I should thank you. Her voice was as flat as I had ever heard it.
Don t. The one who deserves thanks is Justen.
Her hand came to her mouth, but she still did not look in my direction.
If Justen hadn t given me just enough hints and forced me to answer my own
questions, neither of us would be here. My guts twisted slightly.
You believe that? Or is it just more poor little Lerris?
Good old Tamra! I actually grinned. More poor little Lerris, of course.
But remember that I die/have something to do with rescuing you.
Do you really expect me to fall at your feet and be eternally grateful? To
mirror your great shining light?
I kept grinning. She sounded like the Tamra I recalled. Well& eternal
gratitude would be nice&
You re still impossible.
Only sometimes. The rest of the time, I look for perfection.
She didn t answer for a long time. Finally, she said, I meant what I said
about not falling at your feet.
I know that. You want to get out your staff and thrash me soundly again.
I can t do that-you broke your staff. Then her voice dropped. We d fight
too much, and if we didn t, I d hate you, and if we did, you d hate me.
She was right, but that was one of the answers I had figured out already,
one of the few. There were hills south of Kyphrien, not all that far away,
with water and trees, even some of the right kinds of trees. You re right. I
realized you were right, back when we talked on the ship. I just wasn t bright
enough to understand. Now it may be too late.
What will you do? She ignored my unspoken real question.
I have an idea. But I don t know if the sub-commander of Kyphros would be
interested in a mere woodworker who occasionally dabbles in order.
For once, Tamra looked surprised, almost foolish.
Or having him build a house on a hill not too far from her place of
business.
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Her mouth opened a shade wider.
Or having a redhead whom I regard as a sister come to visit occasionally.
For a time, but only for a time, she was speechless.
You re& still& impossible. You honestly think&
No. But I can hope.
I left her there when I saw green leathers on the adjoining balcony-green
leathers, black hair, and black eyes.
The Sub-Commander unlatched the doorway, and I walked onto her balcony.
You were successful, I hear. The music was still there, linked within the
order she had found.
So were you, I understand.
She looked over my shoulder. How is Tamra?
Bitchy as ever, thanks to Justen.
Give him hell, Krystal! called Tamra before leaving my balcony.
She does seem recovered. Krystal s lips turned up at the corners for a
moment. We still stood there looking each other over at arm s length, or more.
Recovered enough, I answered, wondering why I was dancing around all the
things I wanted to say. Enough.
In the end, I stepped forward and took her hands.
And, like Tamra would have hoped, she took them back, walking to the
railing and turning to look out on the city. You may think you have your
answers, but did you ask me?
My stomach turned. Why was I always doing the same thing, assuming I knew
what was best for the women I cared for? No. I apologize, Highest
Sub-Commander, for possibly thinking that the affections of a woodworker who
dabbles in order could possibly be of interest to you. I swallowed, looked
down, wondering how soon I could get the hell out of Kyphrien-except I needed
whatever reward the autarch might offer.
Krystal shook her head sadly. You re still doing it.
Doing what?
You won t ask anything of anyone. You may want answers, but you never ask
for help. There s a difference.
I shrugged. There wasn t much to say. I looked at her short and graying
dark hair, although I knew enough to keep her young, just as my father had my
mother; at the broader shoulders that carried half the weight of Kyphros on
them, and shook my head.
Krystal looked vaguely amused. Just a moment. I ve worn this damned sword
straight for the past five days. She unbuckled the belt and laid both sword
and belt on the table.
Damned sword? I asked. Not any longer. It s ordered.
Stop assuming things. She stepped around the table.
What?
Like whether I would be or wouldn t be this or that. I am. I always have
been.
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