(eng) L. E. Modesitt - Saga of Recluce 04 by The Order War

Author:The Order War [War, The Order]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

LXXVI

Eldiren concentrated on the screeing glass, but despite the sweat on his forehead, he could not break through the white, swirling mists that covered the glass.

“One of those places…” he muttered as he released his hold. The glass shimmered with the blankness of a mirror. He cleared his throat.

“It’s all those trees,” Beltar said, gesturing toward the ancient forest in the valley below the White camp. “Isn’t that why no one can ever look into Naclos?”

“That’s what they say.” Eldiren patted his still-damp forehead with a square of folded cloth. “When are we supposed to link up with Zerchas?”

“After we take Berlitos.”

“How are we going to do that?” asked Eldiren. “I can’t even see most of their troops because of the order in the trees. Trying to attack would cost us whatever troops we have left. Can’t you shake it down?”

Beltar shook his head.

“The trees?” Eldiren prompted.

“I don’t know, but I can’t tap enough of the chaos-flows in the ground. All I get are little tremors. There’s a lot of old order here.”

“Still, you’re not doing badly. We hold Clynya and Bornt—only that little place, what’s-its-name, up on the first branch of the Sarron—”

“Rohrn,” supplied Beltar. “Forget it. That one will have to wait. We need to get through without losing any more troops. Clynya wasn’t exactly a pushover. If you hadn’t managed to circle back through the hills and start those fires—”

The herald entered the white-walled tent.

Beltar looked up. “Yes?”

“The Sarronnese refuse any terms, ser.”

“Oh?”

“They were most arrogant, ser.” Sweat streamed down the man’s face, and his blue cap, held at his waist in both hands, was dark with dampness. “They…they said that Berlitos had never surrendered, not even to the greatest Tyrant in history, and that they weren’t about to surrender now.”

“Idiots!” snapped Beltar.

The herald waited.

“No, they won’t surrender. Of course they won’t. Honor and all that crap!” Beltar paced across the tent, then back.

The herald glanced toward Eldiren.

“So now what?” Beltar asked.

Eldiren gestured toward the herald.

“Oh.” Beltar nodded. “You may go.”

“Thank you. Thank you, ser.” The herald fled.

“You seem to have them all terrified, Beltar.”

“I wish the order-damned Sarronnese were terrified instead. But no. It’s like they have to force me to use my powers.”

“You just said you couldn’t do that here,” pointed out Eldiren.

“I said I couldn’t shake down the damned city, and they probably know that.” The White Wizard fingered his chin. “You were saying something, or I was. Fires, that was it. I wonder what Berlitos is built of. There’s not much stone around here.”

“You’d burn it?”

“Why not? It’s better than losing an army. Jera is the only city I have to save.” Beltar smiled. “They can use all these damned trees to rebuild it…if there are enough of them left. Besides, the storms won’t hold off that much longer.”

“Burn it?” asked Eldiren again.

“Why not? I seem to be condemned to use force. So I might as well. Right now, Zerchas wants results. I’ll get him his results.” Beltar walked to the entrance to the tent and looked down at the forest city of Berlitos.

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