Weylt nods. “Almost like there had been a river there once. Maybe there was, before the Firstborn changed things. That made it hard. We had to build a dam and then replace the levees before we could even start on repairing the Canal.” He frowns. “I didn’t realize that they’ve started using oxen to pull the freight boats along the canal.”
Lorn shrugs helplessly. “I wouldn’t know. I didn’t come that way.”
“No one could tell me why. Oh … they said things like the chaos-cells for the tow wagons were needed elsewhere. But that doesn’t make sense. There are plenty of cells.”
“Is there plenty of chaos-force away from the Accursed Forest?” asks Lorn, almost idly. “Or maybe they need it to charge firelances used against the barbarians.”
“That could be.” After taking a swallow of the Byrdyn, Weylt glances at Lorn. “You’ve been carrying two firelances for the past few patrols.”
“Seems like I’ve had to. Even with reinforcements, we’re only at three-quarters strength.” Lorn but sips from his goblet, looking guilelessly at the major. “We’ve had a lot of fallen trees on the northeast ward-wall.”
“I can see where the extra lance might help.” Weylt’s tone is even, unforced. “Of course, we don’t have enough lances to issue two to every lancer.”
“I wouldn’t be using a second one if we had a full complement,” Lorn points out.
“There don’t seem to be enough lancers anywhere, these days. That’s true.” Weylt pauses to take several mouthfuls of the casserole before speaking again. “Be glad to get home leave, and some good emburhka.”
“How long for you?” Lorn asks between bites of the tooheavily peppered and overcooked emburhka.
“Another three seasons, at the end of summer.” Weylt’s lips twist. “Afterwards, I’ll be back here, just like you will be.”
Lorn, nods, waiting, knowing from the edge in the engineer’s voice that more is coming.
“You make reports on every patrol, don’t you?” Weylt asks.
“We all do.”
“Reports …” Weylt snorts. “We even have to report on every lance we recharge or replace. By squad and company, of course. And a separate place for the officers. They all go to Majer Maran. Don’t know what good they do.”
“I think every report must go there,” Lorn suggests. “I suppose he could figure out how much chaos energy it takes each squad to handle each tree-fall. Except each one’s different.”
“They might be trying to find out how much chaos energy it really takes. If they have trouble powering the Canal tow wagons …” Weylt refills his goblet, and glances at Lorn.
The lancer captain looks down at a goblet still half full. “I think not. With more Byrdyn, I might not wake up that easily in the morning.”
“Then, Commander Meylyd or your Majer Maran might have something else in mind,” suggests Weylt.
“They might,” Lorn agrees. “Who would know, though?” He takes another small sip of the Byrdyn. “I thank you for the wine. It’s been most welcome … and the conversation.”
“Not at all. I hate eating alone, and you’re one of the very few who understands the position of a Mirror Engineer.” Weylt raises his eyebrows but slightly. “Now … or even perhaps in the future.”
“I think I do,” Lorn replies. “And it’s clear you’re one of the few here who understands what a lancer captain such as I might face.” He lifts the goblet.
Weylt lifts his in return.
They both smile.
XCVII
THE EMPEROR TOZIEL’ELTH’ALT’MER, who carries the elthage lineage although he has no magely talents, remains at ease in the malachite and silver chair as he listens to those who speak before him. In her smaller chair, back behind his right shoulder, also listens the Empress Ryenyel.
“Why can we not continue to use the chaos towers that surround the Accursed Forest to recharge the firelances and replenish the chaos-cells for the firewagons? I have heard many and elegant words and more words about this,” declares Majer-Commander Rynst, “but I cannot say that I have heard an explanation that fully satisfies me.”
“We are using those chaos towers exactly for that,” replies the First Magus smoothly. “As well you and His Mightiness know. We are sending firelances from Geliendra all the way to the Cerlyni and even the Jeranyi border in some cases. Now is not the problem. It is the future that presents the difficulty.” After a long pause, Chyenfel adds, “I have not been exactly silent on the difficulties posed by the Accursed Forest.”
“You have been most eloquent in stating that the Accursed Forest presents a difficulty,” Rynst agrees, his words warm. “Yet … my lancers, even my Captain-Commander, as I am most certain you know from your Second Magus, would know what is so deadly about the Forest that it is to be feared more greatly than the barbarians of the north. Their blades claim far more lancers than do the creatures of the Forest.”
“There are none so deaf as cover their ears and will not hear.” Chyenfel’s smooth voice drips honey. “Not that you have ever covered your ears, wisest and most powerful of lancers and Warrior of Light, but it may be that other lancers, more concerned about what may happen in the handful of years immediately before us, have done so.”
Only the slightest tightening of the muscles around hiseyes betrays the interest of the Emperor. There is no visible change in the Empress, who continues to look vaguely amused, as her eyes rest not on either the First Magus or the Mirror Lancer Majer-Commander, but upon Merchanter Adviser Bluoyal.
“My dear friend, never have you been so effusive in your compliments.” Rynst smiles indulgently. “But I beg you explain in terms simple enough for me to convey to those lancers who may die without the chaos-cells charged by the Forest towers.”
Beside Rynst, Bluoyal looks at the white and glistening stones of the floor of the audience chamber.
Chyenfel turns toward Rynst once more. “Perhaps I have tailored my previous presentations to your great perception. I will attempt greater simplicity. The chaos towers are beginning to fail. Yet we cannot move the chaos towers without causing them to fail immediately. We now have barely more than the minimum number of chaos towers required to maintain the wards. At times already, the chaos-net on the northeast ward-wall is breached. If … if our effort is not undertaken soon, it cannot be undertaken at all. Then the Forest will breach the wall and surround the remaining towers so that they cannot be used. So … we can contain the Forest, and lose the excess power from the chaos towers, or we can refuse to contain the Forest and lose the excess power from the towers-and turn much or all of eastern Cyador back to the Forest.” Chyenfel bows to Rynst.
“You are most clear, O master magus.” Rynst pauses. “Yet you and your predecessors have assured us of the power of your magely towers. We have relied on such. Now … you say such powers will vanish within years-or sooner.”
“The Firstborn said that the chaos towers would not last forever, only that their power would be uncontested while they endured. Now … one by one, they are failing. We have but one tower more than the minimum we need to create the sleep-ward barrier, and thus restrain the Accursed Forest for generations to come. If we do not act now, we cannot act in the seasons and years ahead.”
“I could say, although I will not,” Rynst declares, “that if we do not have more firelances, the barbarians will take northern Cyador. Nor will I suggest that a barbarian can lop a poor lancer’s head from his body more effectively and more swiftly than can the fastest growing of trees.”
“You are most eloquent, my dear Majer-Commander.” Chyenfel laughs. “Most eloquent. Not that I would call you verbose. Nor vain. Nor simplistic. No, for you see far beyond what passes in this chamber. You are most wise, and you know that the barbarians remain raiders and bandits. You even know that, even were our northern borders undefended, the barbarians would move but a few dozen kays southward in your lifetime or that of your children or grandchildren. And you know, too, that the Accursed Forest can grow a large tree in two seasons. And that you lose half as many lancers to the Forest as to the barbarians-and that is with the ward-walls.” Chyenfel shrugs. “So I do not have to tell you that if the ward-walls fail because we maintain them to charge a few score firelances, you will be fighting both the barbarians and the Forest, and you will indeed lose. You are wise enough to see that and more. Would that others saw as much.” Chyenfel bows deeply to the Mirror Lancer Majer-Commander.