L. Modesitt - The White Order

Lyasa nodded.

“Maker’s marks? Why would Kesrik have anything to do with traders?” Cerryl paused. “You think that this has to do with Kesrik’s family?”

“It makes sense,” Lyasa murmured. “Kesrik doesn’t like you. His family has access to golds and armsmen, and weapons.”

“Jeslek wasn’t around either,” added Faltar.

Nor Anya, thought Cerryl, glancing at the blond Faltar.

“Kesrik-he turned white, and then it looked like he tried to throw chaos at Sterol.” Lyasa glanced at the silent Kochar and Bealtur.

“That wasn’t smart,” said Faltar.

“He tried to throw chaos? With those three standing there?” Cerryl took a mouthful of the spicy, brown-sauced burkha and noodles.

“Well. . there was chaos-fire everywhere. Kinowin raised his shields first,” said Lyasa, “and then someone threw chaos-fire at him, and he fried Kesrik. I think he was the one. It happened so fast.”

“And then?” Cerryl chewed on a piece of bread to relieve the heat of the spiced burkha.

“Sterol looked around and he said something like, ‘Scheming is not appropriate in the Halls of the Mages.’ ”

“Then they all marched off, and a couple of the lancers picked up the iron shields,” Faltar concluded.

“So. .” Lyasa’s eyes fixed on Cerryl. “What was Kesrik doing? Why were you in the sewers so late?”

“A pair of men with iron shields and blades attacked me,” Cerryl admitted.

“How did you stop them?” pressed Faltar. “Myral and Derka have both been telling me how dangerous it is to cast chaos against iron, especially polished iron.”

Cerryl forced a laugh. “Steam. . mostly. I turned the water in the drainage way into steam.”

Lyasa smiled. “You thought quickly. How did you manage that?”

“I don’t know.” Cerryl had to shrug. “I knew I couldn’t use chaos against iron. I had to do something.” He took another mouthful of burkha, feeling slightly deceptive and taking refuge in eating.

“How did they get down there? All the grates are locked and sealed with chaos,” Faltar pointed out.

“They used an old smugglers’ tunnel. Myral knew about it, but it had been bricked up years ago. They unblocked part of it.”

“How did they know. .?” Faltar’s forehead furrowed.

“That’s easy,” said Lyasa. “Cerryl walks down the streets every day. There are sewer grates every few hundred cubits. Anyone could figure that out.”

Cerryl wondered. That was true enough. . but why had he been assigned the secondary tunnel that already had an old smugglers’ tunnel? Someone wasn’t telling the truth, but who? Myral had said he could lie convincingly, and that meant other mages could as well. Despite the maker’s marks on the shields, Kesrik or his family paying to have armsmen attack Cerryl didn’t make sense, especially after Ullan’s words about a slender mage. But Anya wasn’t from a trader’s family, not that Cerryl recalled. And why would Sterol have turned Kesrik to ash, if the apprentice mage hadn’t been guilty? All that meant there was even more that Cerryl didn’t know.

THE TWO GUARDS nodded as Cerryl passed them and started up the tower steps. The nod from Hertyl was more deferential, Cerryl thought. Myral’s door was closed, and his room felt empty to Cerryl as the younger man passed the landing. Before he had reached the third level, his steps lagged, and he was breathing heavily when he stopped at the open landing of the uppermost level of the tower.

“Come in, Cerryl,” called Sterol through the white oak door that was not quite closed.

Cerryl took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, took another deep breath, and opened the brass-bound white oak door. He stepped into Sterol’s apartment, turning and closing the door to the position in which he had found it.

“You can close it all the way.” Sterol sat behind the desk, centered between the white oak bookcases filled with leather-bound volumes. The High Wizard gestured to the straight-backed chair before the desk.

Cerryl closed the door, then walked across the room and around the table that held the circular screeing glass to take the proffered seat.

“You found the missing guard.” The High Wizard’s hair glinted a reddish iron gray in the light of sunset that streamed through the open tower window at his back.

“Yes, ser. He hadn’t gone that far. He was hiding to the south, where the next secondary joined the main tunnel, behind a set of steps.”

Sterol nodded. “There was no one else with him?”

“No. He was alone. At least, I didn’t hear or see anyone else.” Cerryl added carefully.

“Did the guards see you flame him?” The High Wizard shifted his weight in his chair, but his eyes remained on Cerryl.

“I don’t know how much they saw, honored Sterol. They saw me use flame. They had to have heard Ullan scream.”

“He screamed? Good. . excellent. That will suffice. No white guard or lancer must ever be allowed to desert his post or duty.” Sterol frowned. “Why did he scream?”

“He had a lance, and I struck his arm and the lance with the first firebolt.”

“You went in front of the guards?”

“I wasn’t supposed to be, ser?”

“Ah, young Cerryl. . the bravery of youth. That story will indeed serve you-and the Guild-serve us well.” Sterol laughed, but the laugh faded as the High Wizard studied the younger man. “I had hoped. . but you retain enough force. . more than enough. . and you are bright. .” A quick nod followed as though Sterol had reached a conclusion about something.

Cerryl waited.

“I take it this. . Ullan said nothing?” Sterol’s voice sharpened.

“He begged for mercy.”

“Anything else?”

Cerryl frowned. “He mumbled something about being afraid. . that someone had approached him. That might have been Kesrik. . but he said he didn’t know, only that whoever it was happened to be short.” Cerryl smiled apologetically. “I hope you don’t mind, ser, but since someone was trying to injure me, I wanted to know if he knew anything. I did flame him, as you ordered.”

“Short. . hmmmm. .” Sterol smiled broadly. “I will pass that along to Jeslek. . another confirmation that Kesrik was involved. His family has been asked to leave Fairhaven, you know. They had to have supplied the coins paid to the two men you killed.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Now. . do you remember what I told you when you first came to the tower?”

“Yes, ser. That I was to watch and to say nothing and to tell none but you. . and not until you asked.”

“Good.” Sterol’s face hardened. “Do you honestly think that Kesrik could have set up the attempt on you?”

“Ser. . I do not know Fairhaven or everything about the Guild. I had some doubts, but when one knows so little. .”

Sterol laughed, a short bark. “You know far more than you let any know, even me, and that is wise, so long as you remember who is High Wizard.”

“Yes, ser.”

“What do you know about Recluce?”

“Nothing except what is in the histories and the old stories, ser. I have overheard that Recluce is trying to trade with Gallos through Spidlar and that such will not help Fairhaven.”

Sterol leaned back in his chair slightly, but his face remained stern. “Men are weak, Cerryl. They will seek coins and personal gain, even if it will ruin their children and their children’s children. Even white mages can do the same, and that can be even more dangerous, for they do not have to worry about their children. Chaos provides great power, and great power can create great corruption. That is why Kesrik died.”

Cerryl didn’t conceal the puzzlement he felt.

“No,” Sterol answered the unspoken question. “Kesrik was not powerful. He was weak, too weak to resist the corruption of chaos. He saw the great power wielded by Jeslek and would do anything if he could have possessed like power.” The High Wizard straightened and the red-flecked brown eyes bored through Cerryl. “Do you understand that?”