L. Modesitt - The White Order

“I can live with that.” Heralt smiled. “I’d better let you tell him.” The curly-haired student stopped at the archway to the front hall and the foyer that led to the mages’ tower.

Cerryl stepped inside. The foyer was empty, and he crossed it and went up the steps to the bottom level of the tower. He marched past the guards, and the messenger from the creche in red, not even looking at them, and up the steps toward Myral’s quarters. He’d figured that Jeslek wouldn’t have told the guards anything, particularly since they reported to Sterol-or maybe Kinowin. He wasn’t totally sure, but he doubted he’d find Jeslek in the tower.

Panting heavily after his quick climb, he rapped on Myral’s door. There was no response. He rapped again.

“Cerryl?”

“Yes, ser.” Cerryl stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, closing the door behind him.

Myral looked up, his round face annoyed. He sat by the table, stripped to the waist, and Leyladin was massaging his shoulders. “You could have waited. .” The older mage cleared his throat. “Cerryl. . I had not heard that you had returned. .”

“You are the first to know. Jeslek gave me a test.”

“He said you vanished.”

“I am not surprised.” Cerryl snorted. “I thought that might be the case.” The younger man glanced at Leyladin, his eyes meeting her green orbs. He swallowed, almost feeling as though he were falling into her eyes, then pulled himself more erect.

Myral laughed. “The great Jeslek is always doing things his way.” He pulled his shirt and tunic back into place. “Leyladin told me you had set out to become an assistant to Sverlik. How did that go?”

“I didn’t tell Lyasa the whole story. Jeslek instructed me to become Sverlik’s assistant so that I could kill the prefect. He said it was a test I needed to pass before I became a full mage.” Cerryl’s smile was bitter. “One that would prove my devotion to Fairhaven.”

“You believed him?”

“No. I believed I had no choice. And after briefly overhearing Lyam, I have to admit that the overmage was right about the prefect.”

Leyladin watched Cerryl intently, concern in her green eyes.

Myral sat up straight and scratched his head, then looked at Cerryl. “And the prefect?”

“He’s dead. I killed him with chaos-fire, as Jeslek instructed me. But he-the prefect-had Sverlik killed before I reached Fenard. After I left my escort, the Gallosians killed them, too.” Cerryl worried at his upper lip with his teeth. “I didn’t expect. . so much death.”

“Where Jeslek is concerned, that seems to occur.” Myral coughed, and Leyladin leaned forward intently. After several not-quite-racking coughs, the older mage straightened. “Age and chaos. . not good for the health. Nor surprises.”

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t my idea. I mean, coming to you was, but it was Jeslek’s idea to have me kill the prefect.”

“How would you deal with this?” asked Myral, his tone even, not judgmental.

“I would like you to see if we could meet with Sterol. Jeslek, I hope, doesn’t know I’m back yet.”

“You didn’t walk through-”

“I took some precautions, but I didn’t see him. I couldn’t very well stop him from screeing me, if he chose to do that.”

“No. . you couldn’t, but you’re probably well beneath his sight. Now. . I wasn’t clear, and I want to be sure. This test of Jeslek’s-that was. .?”

“To remove the prefect of Gallos.”

“Oh, dear. He actually said that was the test? And you were successful?”

Cerryl nodded.

“That will cause problems-but not so much as your surviving.” Myral heaved himself to his feet, then glanced at Leyladin. “Best you go your way for a while, young lady. My shoulders are better, and this young fellow doesn’t need to be distracted by your presence.” The older mage laughed. “Don’t think I don’t see things when they’re right before my eyes. Black and white. . bah. . it’s not that simple, not that I’d be telling either the High Wizard or that overbearing clod Jeslek.”

Cerryl swallowed.

“You think I don’t know.” A wry smile crossed Myral’s face. “I can tell you what I think now. You’ll either be accepted as a full mage before the day is out, or we’ll both be dead. Makes no difference either way.”

Leyladin opened her mouth and then closed it.

“Off with you, young lady.”

“Yes, Myral.”

“Dear Leyladin,” Myral said mildly, “I don’t intend for us to be dead. Jeslek might, but Sterol trusts me, and probably Cerryl, far more than he does Jeslek.”

“Be careful. . please. . both of you.” Leyladin offered a smile after her words.

Cerryl noted, though, that the smile was for him, and he smiled back as she slipped out. He fancied he could hear her boots on the stone stairs of the tower.

Myral waddled toward the door. “Sterol is yet up in the High Wizard’s quarters, and so we will make our way there.”

A single guard stood outside the High Wizard’s quarters. “Myral and Cerryl to see the High Wizard, and it is important.”

The guard knocked on the door, then announced, “Myral and Cerryl to see you. The mage Myral states his call is important.”

The door opened, and a thin, red-haired apprentice mage-barely more than a girl, and one Cerryl did not know-scurried out and down the steps, followed by Bealtur.

“Come in.” Sterol’s voice was cold and formal. Once the door had closed, he turned to Myral. “Is the return of this deserting apprentice so important?” His eyes fixed on Cerryl. “Have you come cowering back. . to beg mercy?”

“No, ser. I never left. Jeslek set me a task in Gallos. I did it, and I returned-as he told me. After all I have seen, honored Sterol, I would not desert Fairhaven and then return.”

“A task, you say?” Sterol’s eyebrows lifted.

“You say, young Cerryl, that Jeslek told you this task was a test?” Myral asked yet again, as though Cerryl had said nothing previously.

“Yes, ser. One that I had to pass to become a full mage.” Cerryl left his shields down, including the barrier that would have kept Sterol from sensing whether he told the truth.

“Jeslek told you this, and you believed him?”

“Yes, ser. . that is, he told me such. I did not fully believe him, but he had sent Fydel and Anya out scouting, and he raised chaos and was ready to destroy me if I questioned him.”

“If you doubted him, why did you undertake the task?” asked Sterol, his voice still cold.

“How could I defy him?” Cerryl asked. “Also, after the actions of the prefect’s troops, it appeared as though the removal of the prefect might indeed be the will of the Council.”

“The prefect’s removal? You have said nothing of that.”

“That was the task. I was sent to become Sverlik’s assistant and then to assassinate Lyam. That didn’t work because the prefect had already had Sverlik killed.”

“How? He was a strong mage.” Sterol’s brow furrowed.

“I heard a conversation. . they used iron bolts. Sverlik still killed half the bowmen. That was what the subprefect said.”

“And you let him live?”

“High Wizard,” Cerryl said carefully, “Jeslek told me to do only that with which I was tasked, and my task was to be Sverlik’s assistant, to remove the prefect, and to return to Fairhaven. I could not serve as Sverlik’s assistant because he was dead before I arrived. I sneaked into the palace and killed the prefect with chaos-fire-the overmage was most insistent that I use chaos-fire. Then I sneaked out and rode home.”

“And no one even chased you?”

“They sealed the palace, and they had guards running everywhere, but I climbed over a gate no one was watching closely enough. I did dress as a bravo to ride out of Fenard. I even kept the blade and trousers and cloak I used. They’re in my pack.”