L. Modesitt - Cyador’s Heirs

Lerial reaches the study before the magus does, but chooses not to sit down. Saltaryn will not be late, and Lerial does not want to seat himself, only to stand when the magus arrives. He waits only a few moments before he sees Saltaryn approaching, carrying the leather case, more like an oblong box with strap handles.

Saltaryn studies Lerial as he nears the youth, then purses his lips and frowns. “You’re still more black, except where you’re bruised on your leg.”

“I got the bruises sparring with Undercaptain Woelyt. He was showing me moves I didn’t know.”

“Are you practicing with order?” Saltaryn sets his case on the table.

“I beg your pardon, ser?” Lerial tries to keep his voice calm. “Practicing with order, ser?”

“Are you trying to gather order or trying to heal people?”

“I went to the Hall of Healing several days ago to see what healers do. That was all.”

“If you want to be a magus, you need to learn to control chaos before you work at all with order. I suggest you stay away from the Hall … that is, if you want to remain among the Magi’i.”

Lerial doubts that, as the son of the Duke of Cigoerne, and the grandson of the last Emperor of Light, he will be denied elthage rights, but … he could be declared unfit to be a magus, and that would certainly bring his father’s wrath down upon him. “I haven’t been to the Hall of Healing except that one time, and I don’t plan to go again any time soon.”

“Good. Now … let us see how you have progressed with the candle exercises.” From his case, Saltaryn produces two candles, so stubby that they are barely three digits long, for all that they are set in ornate and polished brass candleholders. He sets them on the side of the table away from Lerial. “Do you see the candles?”

Of course. “Yes.”

Saltaryn takes out a thin brass frame, perhaps three hands high, from which hangs a black cloth that extends down far enough that its base droops on the table. “Take a chair and seat yourself against the wall so that you face the candles.”

Lerial does so, watching as the magus then places the frame before the candles. The frame is high enough and wide enough that Lerial cannot see the candles.

Saltaryn then does something with his hands. “Where are the candles?”

“Behind the drape.”

“Are they?” Saltaryn lifts the drape.

Lerial sees no candles. Is he using chaos to hide them? He concentrates, trying to feel for the candles with order.

“You’re using an order-probe,” observes the magus. “That will tell many Magi’i exactly where you are.”

“I was trying to see if you had hidden them behind a chaos screen or something.” Lerial refrains from pointing out that many of the stronger Magi’i, those using chaos, often cannot sense order. He understands what Saltaryn means-he cannot trust that other Magi’i will not sense what he does with order … at least, from what Emerya has said, not unless he becomes very skilled, and that doesn’t appear likely any time soon.

“That comes later.” Saltaryn lifts the leather case beside the drape frame. The candleholders with the candles are there, behind where the case had been. He lowers the case. Even without probing, just passively sensing the movements of Saltaryn’s hands, Lerial can tell that the magus is moving the candles, but not exactly where, or whether he has moved one or both.

“I want you to tell me where the candles are-without probing.”

Lerial knows he could do that if he were closer, but he is sitting almost five yards away, and the candles and their holders are small. Still … he concentrates, trying to get a sense. “I think there’s only one behind the drape.”

“Think?”

“There’s one.”

“Good. We’ll try again.”

After several more trials, Saltaryn straightens. “You seem to be able to sense where the candles are without probing. Now … I want you to light whatever candles I put behind the drape, using only the smallest possible amount of chaos, just barely enough to catch the wick on fire.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Why am I asking you to do this with the smallest amount of chaos?”

“To teach me better control of chaos?”

Saltaryn nodded. “There’s another reason that goes with it. Can you think of what that might be?”

“So someone will have a harder time sensing what I’m doing?”

“That’s a good reason, especially for you, but it’s not linked to control.”

Lerial frowns. What does he have in mind?

Saltaryn smiles. “How did you feel after the lesson where you first had to light a candle?”

“Tired. Very tired.”

“That’s because you worked hard. Directing and using chaos takes strength…” The magus lets his words hang, waiting for Lerial to reply.

“Oh … you want me to only use as much chaos as necessary so that I don’t get tired and can do more if I have to.”

“That’s right. Especially if you have to use chaos in battle, you don’t want to get any more tired than you have to.” Saltaryn moves one candle. “Try to light it that way now.”

Lerial tries to focus the smallest bit of chaos on the candle. From across the study, even that takes some effort … and nothing happens.

“You’ll need a bit more chaos,” offers Saltaryn.

Lerial tries again … and again.

Finally, after close to a quarter glass of effort, he manages to light a candle.

“Good! Now do it again.”

Lerial refrains from groaning or sighing and makes another effort.

Then Saltaryn puts two candles behind the drape, and when Lerial has managed to light those, the magus says, “Light both of them at once, not one at a time.”

Finally, Saltaryn says, “Good. You’re using just the right amount of chaos. When you practice any magely skill, try to determine how to do what you’re doing with the least amount of effort and chaos.”

“Yes, ser.” Lerial blots his forehead with the back of his forearm. He is sweating once more, but not so profusely as if he had been sparring. He is definitely doing better in handling chaos, but he could not have gathered much more free chaos than what he had used … at least, it doesn’t feel that way. Yet once he has mastered the knack of determining just how much chaos he needed, at the end, lighting the candles was almost easy. Is that because you’re using the order to control it more effectively? Emerya had said control of order would help, but that raised another question. Why is Saltaryn so worried about Lerial’s use of order, especially if it helps in handling chaos?

“Now we need to move on to history.” As he talks, the magus collects the items he has set on the study table and replaces them in the leather case.

Lerial notices that the brass of the holders now appears tarnished, yet the metal had been polished when Saltaryn had taken them from the case. Did my use of chaos do that? Or was that caused by what I did at first with too much chaos? He can think of no other reason than chaos being the cause, and, somehow, that bothers him.

“Lerial?”

Lerial stiffens as he realizes he has not heard what Saltaryn asked. “Ser? I’m sorry. I was still thinking about the exercises.”

“I asked you whether you had considered what we discussed yesterday, about the dangers of a ruler who is also a strong magus?”

“I did, ser.”

“And?”

“The greatest danger is to the ruler himself. He’s likely to think he is more powerful than he is.”

“Why? If he’s a powerful mage and knows his power, why would he think he is more powerful than he knows himself to be?”

“Because most of a ruler’s power comes from those who follow him. Just because he’s a strong magus doesn’t increase the strength of his Lancers … or increase the golds in his treasury…”