The Magic of Recluce - L. E. Modesitt [150]
Supposedly, a high chaos-master could remove the disease, but the price was reputed to be more than most women would pay.
I shook my head and kept walking.
“Love philtres…love philtres…” hissed a voice from the shadows, understandably enough, since street peddling outside the square was forbidden. The woman’s face was thin, scarred on both cheeks, and pock-marked. The disorder within was worse, and I hastened my steps.
Tenterra—Nature’s Healer. A guttered-out lamp, painted bright red, swung idly in the breeze beneath the sign. The doorway was banded in cold iron and barred—a tacit announcement that chaos was barred from Tenterra’s. So, of course, was order; but who would know?
“…love philtres…” The words hissed up my spine even after I passed three more closed doorways and reached the black awning. The door underneath was black oak, banded in black iron, and bore no name nor any sign.
I could feel nothing, either of chaos or order, and passed back onto the far end of the jewelers’ street where it curved around and led back toward the avenue. Even when you started in one direction in Fenard, you could end up going somewhere else.
Did I want to pass by the palace gardens? I shrugged. Even my simple shirt felt clinging and warm as the sun struggled to break through the low clouds that had been fog at dawn.
Two guards, one by each side of the gate, each bearing a halberd in addition to a short sword, watched as I walked toward them. If I looked to my right, I could see the green leaves of spring just barely blurring the outlines of the oak and maple branches extending above the stones of the wall. On the other side of the avenue were the grand town homes of the ministers.
“You! What are you doing here?” The nearer guard lowered the halberd slightly, as if in threat.
“Just taking a morning walk.”
“Not for the likes of you,” he growled.
As I drew nearer, slowing and stopping, I could feel the incredible sense of chaos that enveloped him. Yet beneath that disorder was a kernel of something else, as if the disorder had been dropped upon him, and he had been too weak to resist, but too strong to surrender totally.
Without thinking, I reached out and strengthened his basic honesty and order, letting it push away the chaos as I stood there. “You’re right. I’ll be going.” As I left him standing there, I could sense the honest confusion as he tried to recover himself.
Click…click…The sound of my heels on the polished stones of the street before the ministers’ houses echoed loudly in my ears.
“…who was that?” whispered the second guard.
Clink…clink…The sound of horses and mounted men rebounded from behind me, and I stepped as close to the side of the street as I could, looking back over my shoulder. A troop of fresh cavalry rode in my direction. Standing aside in the shadows that had begun to appear as the sun burned off the last of the morning fog, I watched.
The standard-bearer, younger than me, borne by a chestnut, passed by with an impassive face and a reek of chaos, a reeking disorder only compounded by the armed men who followed.
Clink…clickedy, click, click…clink…
As I leaned back against the brick wall of an unknown house, I slowly gathered my near-shredded senses back into myself, marveling at the array of chaos-energy expended on the troop. Marveling—and suppressing the urge to retch.
Antonin and Sephya—it had to have been their work.
Why I didn’t know, but Antonin’s hands were on it as surely as though he had signed the city the way Uncle Sardit signed a chest with his maker’s mark.
With the horses safely past, I eased my steps back toward Destrin’s. Had I been unwise in helping the guard struggle against unwanted chaos? Probably. Would I have done it again? Had there really been a choice?
I tried not to shrug as the sun ducked behind another cloud and the shadows faded into gray again.
LI
PATTERNS—THERE ARE patterns everywhere. That was what the book said, and what everyone had tried to point out to me. Just by creating ice crystals too small to see, some of the Masters of Recluce