L. Modesitt - Colors of Chaos

“Thank you,” he repeated before, with another nod, he turned to head back to the White Tower.

CERRYL STOOD BEFORE the table as Kinowin and Redark entered the High Wizard’s official apartment, which had come to serve mainly as a meeting and conference room, since Cerryl and Leyladin continued to spend evenings at her dwelling.

“Thank you both. I’ve requested your presence for the Council to meet with the last of Anya’s…” Cerryl paused, searching for a word, then added, “acolytes.”

Redark glanced to where Leyladin stood by the window.

“The healer is most helpful in discerning shades of truth,” Cerryl said politely.

“Ah…yes.” Redark cleared his throat.

“Before they arrive, you should read this.” Cerryl handed the scroll that tingled from the order that filled it to the older overmage.

“What is it?” asked Kinowin as he seated himself to Cerryl’s right.

“A request for terms from the Black mage.”

“Terms? He asks us for terms?” demanded the ginger-bearded Redark.

“Not exactly. I’d rather you read it. Then we can talk,” said Cerryl.

After a moment, his face blank, Kinowin handed the heavy parchment to Redark.

The younger overmage read the document and returned it to Cerryl. “Can we trust him?”

“Considering that he can destroy any ship upon the seas, do we have any choice?”

“As I understand this,” Kinowin said, “he is proposing that we Recluce the surtax on goods from Recluce to three parts in ten but will open the new port at Southpoint to any ships from Candar that do not carry White mages on board.”

“I took the liberty of having Esaak do some calculations,” Cerryl explained. “Our factors will do better at three parts in ten. That is high enough to protect the wool growers.”

“Why would the Blacks do that,” asked Redark, “if their ship is so mighty?”

“Like all of us, they must eat, and they cannot compel our ships to port there,” said Cerryl.

“Because they need the grains and oilseeds and they can still charge more for those cargoes in Recluce. But they have to be able to sell something in Candar. They can’t travel one way in ballast,” suggested Kinowin.

“We can tell the Guild that we have gained trading rights in Recluce and that more trade will be coming to Candar.” Cerryl smiled. Besides, it doesn’t matter now that you’re getting control of the tariff collections .

“We lost…and you’re going to claim a victory?” Redark frowned.

“We didn’t lose. The Black can’t build enough ships to stop us from blocking their traders. If this keeps up, we both lose. So they give up something, and we give up something.”

“But…most of the trading on Recluce is at Land’s End.” Redark glanced at Kinowin.

“That will change,” predicted Cerryl. “Besides, do you have a better proposal? We only lost two ships this time. How many will we lose if we don’t agree? And how much will it cost us to keep up a blockade of the Black Isle?”

Redark shrugged. “I defer to the High Wizard.”

Cerryl wanted to sigh. Instead, he smiled. “The Guild needs to pick the battles it can win. By reinforcing our mage advisers with lancers in all the major ports we can collect more in tariff coins. That is a battle we can win, and we are winning.”

“The viscount and the prefect will protest.”

“Probably,” Cerryl admitted. “We now control Lydiar, most of Hydlen, Sligo, and Spidlar. If we do not have to blockade Recluce or our own coasts against Black traders, we can use those ships to quarantine Ruzor and Worrak. Neither Gallos nor Certis can muster the arms to stand against us now.”

Redark wiped his forehead. “You…you planned this from the beginning.”

Cerryl nodded. “I had help from many, but…yes, I did. By controlling the roads and the ports the Guild can unite Candar, at least that part east of the Westhorns. With the use of the screeing glasses, the White highways, and mages in the major ports and trading cities we can bring down any ruler who will not pay his tariffs and trade fairly.”

“The viscount…”

“I know,” admitted the High Wizard. “We will deal with him next, but this agreement will free the ships and armsmen to do so.”

Redark glanced from Cerryl to Kinowin, then back at the parchment before him. “You have dealt with…other rulers before…to the Guild’s advantage. I must defer to that expertise.”

“Dealing with Certis will be easier than with Recluce,” confirmed Kinowin.

“Thank you, Overmages.” Cerryl nodded. “Now…let us see Anya’s acolytes.”

Redark cleared his throat and glanced at Kinowin once more but did not speak.

“How many of Anya’s young followers are actually left?” asked Kinowin.

“Aalkiron was on the second ship that was fired by the Black mage’s weapons. That leaves three-Muerchal, Zurchak, and Giustyl.”

“You’ll see them all at once?” Redark adjusted his chair.

“Why not? I’d rather we not spend too much time on them.” And you might not have to ash them all that way .

“You’ll pardon me, High Wizard,” said Kinowin, “if I raise some shields?”

“They will be reasonable, I am certain,” offered Redark. “How could they not be…ah…given their position?”

“What is their position?” Kinowin’s voice was smooth.

“That…they were supportive…of Anya,” admitted Redark.

“So far, they have not done anything against the Guild,” Cerryl said. “Because of their closeness to Anya, I asked them to appear before the Council.”

Leyladin had moved her chair back and closer to the wall, next to the side table, as though she wanted to be disassociated from the three Council members.

Cerryl raised his voice and called, “Send in the mages!”

The three young mages entered the chamber and stood abreast facing the table, with the bull-necked Muerchal at Cerryl’s left, Zurchak in the middle, and the rail-thin Giustyl edging even farther to the right, as if he wanted to distance himself from the two others.

“The three of you are here because there is some question of your loyalty to Fairhaven and the Guild.” Cerryl’s voice was mild, almost conversational.

“After facing that black iron fire in the gulf?” Muerchal squared his broad shoulders, but his green eyes fixed on Redark, not on Cerryl.

“I did notice that a number of ships turned from the Black vessel long before it could have been a threat,” Cerryl pointed out.

“Mine did not,” said Giustyl quietly. “We brought back the Black’s message.”

“What did it say?” asked Muerchal, almost belligerently.

Cerryl tilted his head. “It was for the Council-a request for terms beneficial to both the Guild and the Black Isle.”

“Beneficial to you, perhaps, Your Mightiness.” Muerchal’s contempt was not even veiled.

Once again, Cerryl wanted to sigh. Muerchal was not only stubborn but stupid. “You seem to forget that you stand before the Council, Muerchal.” He kept his voice mild.

“The Council? Two dodderers and a schemer?”

Cerryl could sense the chaos rising around Muerchal and raised his own shield, extending them to protect Leyladin as well.

Whhhsttt! Fire flared around the three Council members and past them toward Leyladin, then subsided.

Redark shuddered, and sweat had beaded on gaunt Kinowin’s forehead.

Cerryl glanced at Muerchal as the burly mage began to focus more chaos. Without so much as raising his hand, the High Wizard concentrated, and a line of golden light seared through Muerchal’s shields. The young mage crumpled onto the floor, but before his body even struck the stone it had begun to shiver into fine white ash, so much chaos had Cerryl directed there.