L. Modesitt - Colors of Chaos

“Anya. It was Anya.” Leyladin added, more softly. “I told you she planned something. She’s one of the few that know you don’t handle chaos as well in storms.”

Cerryl refrained from nodding but tightened his lips, thinking about his comments to Anya about a storm only days earlier. “Stupid…”

“You did fine.”

“You can’t let anyone know anything, can you?” This time he did shake his head, if minutely. “For a bit, she’ll have to think we don’t know her connection. Until I can discover whose armsmen those were.”

“She gets away with too much.”

“Not this time,” Cerryl promised, his voice cold and distant. Not this time…but we do it my way .

AS THE TOWER door opened, Cerryl turned his eyes from the white blanket that covered the city to the man who entered the High Wizard’s apartment.

The overmage bowed to Cerryl. “You asked for me, High Wizard?”

“Kinowin, I’m still Cerryl except when formality requires it, and this isn’t one of those times. Please sit down and join us.” Cerryl gestured to the seat at the table beside him and across from Leyladin.

“There are rumors…”

“Doubtless all over the Halls. I’ve summoned Senglat since his lancers were the last in Certis. I’ve also summoned several traders. With large detachments of lancers to ensure the traders honor their…invitation.”

A puzzled look crossed the overmage’s face as he sat beside Cerryl.

“What sort of rumors have you heard?” asked Leyladin.

“Oh, that the High Wizard summoned chaos to entertain you…that Broka could stand the new High Wizard no more and has left Fairhaven…that were Fydel here, he would be wearing the amulet…those sorts of things.”

“Anya,” said Leyladin.

“I fear she has discovered what I am doing,” Cerryl commented, “and would raise discontent against me as quickly as she can.”

“Broka is not anywhere to be found,” Kinowin pointed out.

“That is not surprising, since he attacked Leyladin’s dwelling last night, along with another mage-I don’t know who.” Cerryl shrugged. “We will have to play this out, and that is why it is best you are here.”

“It would be wiser to have Redark here.”

“Perhaps.” Cerryl’s voice was cool.

“No,” added Leyladin.

Kinowin nodded to her. “I bow to you in this, lady.”

Cerryl pointed to the pair of fire-darkened iron blades, blades with even the wrapped leather of the hilt grip burned away. “What do you make of those?”

“Armsmen’s blades. Not ours. Probably from Certis, possibly Gallos.”

“We-or Soaris-collected several score of those last night.” Along with a few other items, like two white-bronze daggers .

Kinowin’s eyebrows lifted. “You must be doing something correctly, Cerryl. It takes most High Wizards several years to generate such enmity.”

Thrap …After the knock, the door opened a crack. “Overcaptain Senglat.”

Cerryl beckoned for the lancer commander to enter.

The nearly bald overcaptain stepped up to the other side of the table, bowed, then straightened. “Ser?” His eyes took in the overmage and the healer.

“Are you missing any armsmen, Senglat?” Cerryl kept his voice level, almost idle, not looking to his left where Leyladin sat, nor to Kinowin at his right.

“No, ser.”

Leyladin nodded her reaction that the overcaptain told the truth.

After pulling on heavy leather gloves, Cerryl lifted one of the blades from the table. “Would you look at that?”

Senglat stepped forward and took the blade, his eyes ranging over it, weighing it, before he replaced it on the wooden surface. “That be a Certan blade, ser. The tang is curved so, and the blood gutter, here, is shorter and wider.” Senglat frowned. “How did you come by this?”

“Several-score armsmen attempted to attack the healer’s dwelling last night. Only their blades and coins survived, but the coins were all struck in Fairhaven.” New silvers, no less .

“Several score?”

“It is hard to tell, but we did recover forty-two blades.” Cerryl smiled.

“There were forty-two outside armsmen in Fairhaven? That is hard to believe.”

“No,” Kinowin said quietly, “there were forty-two armsmen who carried Certan blades.”

“I am not sure either is good.” Senglat tightened his lips, then licked them.

Cerryl nodded. “I’d like you to stay.” He nodded in the direction of the empty seat. “Pull it around some.”

The overcaptain concealed a frown but eased the chair to his left, then seated himself, carefully, beside Leyladin.

“We will be hearing from some traders next,” Cerryl said.

The first trader to enter the apartment quarters was a wiry man dressed entirely in gray except for a wide green leather belt. Chorast bowed. “I am honored to be here.”

“I hope so,” Cerryl said. “Have you hired any additional armsmen lately?”

The small and wiry man blinked, then cocked his head sideways. “Why, honored High Wizard, would I be doing such in winter when I factor less and collect less? No…I have not.”

“Have you had any armsmen disappear lately?”

Chorast blinked again. “No, ser.”

“Have you heard of other factors looking for armsmen?”

“Not in more than a season. I heard that Loboll sought some guards for his shipments to Suthya last fall.”

Cerryl wanted to nod to himself. The trader was confused inside, but his answers had been truthful. “How are you finding trading in Fairhaven?”

“They say that you seek truth more than most High Wizards, Your Mightiness, and maybe that be so…” Chorast paused and smiled.

Cerryl laughed. “Well put, Chorast. That means it’s hard, and you think it’s going to get worse, and the last thing you want to do is tell that to the High Wizard.”

“There been times worse.”

“But not many. Why are you staying?” Cerryl leaned forward.

“Fairhaven’s my place, Your Mightiness. And…well, you took care of Layel, and folk say that you’re making the surtax stick in the out ports. First time in my life, anyway.” The hint of a smile appeared and vanished as the wiry trader’s eyes met Cerryl’s.

“I am working to make it better for trade-and fairer across Candar.”

“Be true that you raised tariffs in Spidlar, ser?”

“Some. They’re half of here,” Cerryl admitted. “I’d like to have all traders and factors pay the same.”

“You do that, and the honest factors-I’m a scoundrel but an honest one, ser-they’d never want another High Wizard.”

Cerryl nodded. “You’ve told me what I needed to know from you. If you think of something that might help all traders…come and see me.” He smiled. “Or send me a scroll if you think proximity to the High Wizard might be testing your judgment.”

Chorast smiled as he bowed. “By your leave, Your Mightiness?”

“You may go, honest scoundrel.” Cerryl was grinning as the door closed.

“He told the truth,” Kinowin said.

“I know.” Cerryl glanced toward Leyladin, then Senglat. The overcaptain shook his head. Leyladin offered the faintest of smiles.

The next to enter was the trader Muneat. Somehow, despite his deep blue tunic and trousers and the silver-trimmed blue boots, he looked far smaller than Cerryl recalled. Remember, you were a scared apprentice scrivener then .

“Your Mightiness…I am here at your command.” The trader touched his silver mustache as he straightened. “I cannot recall when a High Wizard…requested a factor’s presence…”

“Nor on such short notice?” Cerryl offered a crooked smile. “I must apologize. These are not the best of times, for either factors or the Guild.”