Recluce 07 - Chaos Balance by L.E Modesitt Read Free Book Online

why? Because he was treading on thin ice with Ryba? Because he didn't want to just drift into another relationship? Because he recognized that Ayrlyn needed a total commitment, and he didn't want to be forced?
       With a deep breath, he turned back over, away from the rattling of the window and the low whistle of the wind.
       Plick! A drop of water splattered on the planked floor, probably from the slowly melting ice making its way through the slates of the tower roof, in places where two winters had frozen and crumbled the mortar they had used instead of the roofing tar they did not have.
       Plick!
       The smith took another long breath, then-paused at what sounded like a whisper outside his door-or bare feet on the cold stones of the tower steps. But Ryba's door had not opened. He would have heard if it had, and he had had nothing to do with Ryba since before the great battle of the previous autumn.
       Plick!
       His own door opened, and Nylan glanced through the darkness, not that it hampered his view. The strange underjump that had translated the Winterlance to whatever world they had found-like all worlds, the natives merely called it “the world” or “the earth”-the underjump that had turned his hair living silver had also given him night vision that was nearly as good as his day vision.
       Plick!
       The figure that slipped into his room did not have Ayrlyn's flame-red hair, but silver hair.
       “Istril?” he whispered, half sitting up.
       Her finger touched his lips and her lips whispered in his ear. “Just tonight. I talked with the healer, and we agreed.” There was a pause. “Unlike some, Nylan, I wouldn't deceive you.”
       “But-”
       “I want a daughter, and I want you to be her father. This is one of my visions.”
       Before he could protest again, the slight and wiry figure eased out of the robe she had worn and under the thin blanket, her skin smooth and warm against his-except for very cold feet.
       “Your feet-”
       “They're cold, but don't make fun of me. This is hard .. .” Istril shivered, and buried her head in his shoulder for a moment.
       Nylan could feel the dampness of her cheeks on his bare skin. He eased his arms around her, even as he wondered. Ayrlyn? Istril would not have lied, not for anything.
       Ayrlyn? Why would she have agreed?
       He stroked Istril's silver hair for a long time before he kissed her, gently, before her lips trembled under his, before he chose not to resist what had been offered.
     
     

Chaos Balance
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    LEPHI GAZED OUT across the polished white tiles of the Great Hall of Cyad and stifled a yawn. Just below the oversized malachite and silver throne, to the Lord of Cyador's right, stood the white wizard Themphi. Farther below and to the left loomed Duhru, the Voice of His Mightiness.
       “We might as well get this facade over with,” muttered the Lord of Cyador. “Announce the receiving of petitions.”
       “His Mightiness Lephi the White, Lord of Cyador, ruler of all lands from the mountains of the skies to the oceans of the west, Protector of the Steps to Paradise, Son of the Rational Stars, stands ready to receive the petitions of his people. Those with worthy petitions, draw near with good conscience.” Duhru's voice boomed across the great hall, and the three-story-high gilded doors in the rear of the hall slid open nearly silently, the hiss of steam merely a whisper lost in the vastness of the chamber.
       Three figures slowly marched across the white tiles and stood on the shimmering and spotless tiles beneath the throne.
       “Declare your petition,” rumbled Duhru, “if you are without darkness and a follower of the way of whiteness.”
       The first petitioner-a mid-aged man wearing the white surplice of a petitioner over heavy work trousers and tunic- bowed. “Most powerful Lord of Cyador, Protector of the Steps to Paradise, hear my petition.”
       “The Lord hears