L. Modesitt - Colors of Chaos

Cerryl shrugged. “What can I say? I keep making mistakes.”

Faltar laughed.

Even Heralt smiled.

“I’m not sure I accept that,” Lyasa said. “We all make mistakes. Even Jeslek makes mistakes.”

“I don’t know,” mused Cerryl, trying to change the subject. “The High Wizard has a real problem. The Guild has been trying to make life in Candar better. Look at Fairhaven. It’s cleaner, the people are more prosperous; and there’s less peacebreaking. It’s almost as if other rulers don’t want prosperity.”

“They don’t,” said Leyladin. “They’re not interested in prosperity for their people. Look at Jeslek’s quarters. They’re small. The Duke of Lydiar has a palace. So does the Duke of Hydolar. Even the great factors in Fairhaven do not have mansions the way they do in Lydiar or Renklaar.”

If Leyladin considered her father’s dwelling modest, and she had seen both factors’ dwellings and palaces elsewhere, Cerryl could imagine that the mansions of factors elsewhere must be grand indeed.

“How can a ruler not be concerned about his people?” asked Faltar.

“Most are concerned only that the people pay their taxes.” Heralt snorted. “The Guild has a problem. People in Fairhaven don’t know how well off they are, and those outside of Fairhaven don’t know how much better off they could be under the Guild. Because we can raise chaos, people fear us, and their rulers make sure that we’re always the bad ones.” He gulped the last of his ale. “Look at Cerryl. He made a mistake on the Patrol-a little one. If a guard bashed a beggar in Fenard or Kyphrien, do you think they’d punish the guard? I demon-darkness know that they don’t. Same in Lydiar. Cerryl didn’t even do that. Yet we’re those fearsome mages who turn people into ash.”

Cerryl nodded ever so slightly. What Heralt said made sense, but how many people saw what he’d seen? He rubbed his forehead. He was still more tired than he would have liked.

“Cerryl needs to go,” Leyladin announced, standing and half-tugging Cerryl to his feet.

“Still the healer,” said Heralt.

“Someone has to take care of him,” the healer answered.

“And you’re that someone,” Lyasa replied.

“Who better?” Leyladin raised her eyebrows.

“Better you than us,” said Faltar. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Cerryl gave a smile and a nod.

The air outside was cooler, cold enough to hint at snow-but far fresher than inside The Golden Ram. Cerryl fastened his jacket.

They walked up the Avenue past the Halls of the Mages, a light and cooler breeze slipping around them.

“I can walk home by myself,” Leyladin protested.

“I know you can, but I’d feel better if I walked with you, and you don’t want me to worry, do you?”

The blonde laughed. “You are impossible.”

“I’m very possible.”

“You have to be careful. Jeslek will want you to do something else even more dangerous next time.” After a pause, she added, “You shouldn’t have made that comment about the order of chaos. Jeslek and Anya would use that against you.”

Cerryl sighed. “I know, I’m still tired, and I’m not on guard as I should be.”

“What did you mean by that? About the order of chaos?”

“Oh…it’s obvious if you think about it. Any city, any land, has to have order within it. You can’t make a city work without it. There have to be rules, and rules are a form of order. Things like aqueducts and sewers are a form of order. So is peacekeeping. But no one in Fairhaven wants to admit that we need order as much as the Blacks on Recluce do. And,” he added with a laugh, “they need chaos, at least some, as much as we do.”

Leyladin shivered. “Don’t say that around Jeslek. He really will find something horribly dangerous for you to do. And if you do that, the next task he gives you will be even worse.”

“He might.”

“He will.”

“I can take my time getting better.”

“I already told him and Kinowin that it would take more than an eight-day. I said that you’d been poisoned and that if they pushed you too soon you wouldn’t be able to do as much. And I told Jeslek that I’d told Kinowin and some others that.” Leyladin offered a satisfied chuckle. “He wasn’t that happy about it, but right now I’m the only healer he has.”

“That was wicked.” Cerryl squeezed her hand. “I’m grateful that you did.”

They turned onto the street leading to Leyladin’s dwelling. Modest dwelling?

“You meant it about the big houses of the factors in Lydiar?”

“Oh, yes. Kiriol’s house is easily three times the size of ours, and his is far from the largest.”

Cerryl’s lips quirked into a crooked smile lost in the darkness as they walked up the stones to the door.

After Leyladin hugged him and gave him a single warm kiss, Cerryl walked slowly back toward the Halls of the Mages, noting that the warmth of the past few days had faded and that the wind was getting chill again.

Jeslek-what, if anything, could Cerryl do about the High Wizard? Jeslek faced a hard situation as High Wizard, and with that Cerryl sympathized. But you don’t want to get killed to solve his problems .

He shook his head. All he could do was watch and be patient and try to survive. And hope and be ready if you get the chance .

CERRYL SAT DOWN at the table across from the High Wizard and waited for Jeslek to speak. His fingers brushed the wood of the seat, feeling the slightly gritty white dust that never left the Tower, no matter how often it was swept and mopped. Outside the White Tower, as he watched, the light sleet that had been falling, pattering against the glass, stopped, and the indirect sunlight bathing the city brightened.

The white-haired and sun-eyed High Wizard studied Cerryl silently before speaking. “Cerryl, the healer Leyladin has told me that you should have a few more days’ respite from heavy physical effort, but that you are capable of doing less taxing things.”

“I feel better,” Cerryl said firmly, not wanting to admit too much weakness but knowing that he wasn’t yet up to another of Jeslek’s special tasks.

“Good.” Jeslek smiled. “I have a duty that will not tax your body much, but it will help the Guild. You should be interested in it, since you were one of those who brought the matter to my ear. I would like you to use the screeing glass as best you can to see what you can discover about the handling of road taxes and tariffs in Certis. The matters of which you spoke earlier.”

Cerryl concealed a swallow. “Yes, ser.”

“Even if you discover little, you should become more proficient with the glass. It is a most useful tool, as you will find.” Jeslek rubbed his chin. “I would expect you would learn something. You have learned so much in other ways.” Jeslek flashed a smile, then stood. “I will not tire you more.”

Cerryl stood as well and glanced out the window, noting that the sun had come out again.

“When you find something, let me know.”

“Yes, ser.” Cerryl gave a small bow before he turned and departed.

Going down the steps was far easier than climbing them had been.

He found Leyladin and Lyasa standing in a sunlit corner in the rear courtyard, in a spot where the cold breeze did not penetrate, although the floor tiles were moist and the courtyard smelled damp, not quite musty.

Lyasa glanced from Cerryl to Leyladin and back to Cerryl. “I need to be going.”

“You don’t have to go,” Cerryl said.

“I really do.” Lyasa smiled at Leyladin. “I’ll talk to you later, or tomorrow.”

Cerryl had the feeling he was missing things, but he was still tired and not ready to puzzle them out. After the black-haired mage left, he sat down on the bench beside Leyladin.