The Magic of Recluce - L. E. Modesitt [190]
The Public Works Minister, thin and white-haired, only nodded, as did the Finance Minister, a heavy-set woman with square-cut short white hair who wore an ornate green tunic over equally ornate trousers.
“Peace,” was the only word from Father Dorna, a functionary in the religion of the one-god believers from his aura and garb of black, who radiated neither order nor disorder.
Krystal still wore green, a plain green silk blouse with no frills and a high neck, the same green leather vest, and matching green trousers—cotton, I thought. She wore no jewelry, no rings, and she looked professional, like the autarch’s champion. She walked the same way, her eyes never quite at rest.
The only one dressed more plainly than Krystal was me. My best clothes were the dark-brown cotton tunic and trousers made by Deirdre. Good as they were, certainly not of the quality of those worn by Krystal or the autarch.
“We should be seated.” The autarch simply pulled out the chair at the head of the table, then pointed at the chair to her right. “Lerris, if you would.”
Krystal took the seat across from me, and Father Dorna sat on my right. At the end of the table was Liessa, the only woman wearing a dress.
I attempted to seat the autarch, but she avoided the question by seating herself before my hand more than touched the back of her chair.
“No ceremony here. My name is Kasee.”
I just nodded, not certain exactly what to say, as mixed greenery was placed on the plate in front of me.
“Krystal says you know something of the reasons behind the apparently senseless attacks by the Gallians.”
“Some few things,” I said, “and some few thoughts as to why.” Since the autarch began to question me before taking a bite of the greenery on her plate, I decided that, informal dinner or not, the main course was information, and the chef was a young man named Lerris.
I looked at Krystal. While I thought I saw a momentary twinkle in her eye, her expression was polite and impassive.
“Does the name Antonin mean anything?”
“…devil…” That came from my right, from the priest.
“He is reputed to be a white wizard who lives in the Westhorns,” responded the autarch. I didn’t think of her as Kasee then, no matter what she had said.
“He is a white wizard. He has allied himself with the prefect, or spends so much time in Fenard that he might as well be allied.”
“What does he supply, exactly, to this alliance?” asked Ferrel, the white-haired Guard Commander, whose words were as precise as her plain green tunic. She and Krystal were the sole diners visibly armed.
“Chaos…”
“In what form, if you will? What does he gain from it?”
I took a deep breath. “I don’t have all the answers…but…” I continued before the Guard Commander asked yet another question, “he opened a chaos-fountain in the guard quarters in Fenard. The fountain had the effect of submerging reason, since reason is a function of order. The fountain made the soldiers more obedient to commands issued with a—I guess you’d say—chaos-link. I mean, they’re more likely to fight and kill blindly.”
I could feel Krystal’s concern behind her impassive face.
“How did you discover this?”
After forcing myself to take a sip from the crystal goblet and discovering it contained redberry, I answered. “I felt it from where I worked in Fenard. So I—well, it’s really not that simple. You see, if Krystal hasn’t told you, I left Recluce as a dangergelder. My charge was to reach the Westhorns and to make a decision as to whether I would serve order or chaos blindly. I had a…few problems…along the way…”
No one commented. So I kept going. “When I got to Fenard, I needed time to think…and money. That was why I took up woodcrafting again while I tried to work things out. The chaos in and around Fenard kept increasing, not so much that it was that noticeable at first. Antonin—his coach began appearing at the palace more