CLXX
Cerryl peered into the study commons, noting the three apprentices studying there, then slipped into the corridor, using his blur screen to avoid attention.
He passed back to the front Hall, where he waited a time, watching messengers in red passing, some other apprentices, and, finally, a mage he knew, if but slightly. He waited until the red-haired Kochar was almost abreast before dropping the screen. “Kochar?”
“Ah… oh, I’m so sorry, ser. I didn’t see you.” Kochar half-bowed and stepped back away from the High Wizard.
Cerryl offered a pleasant smile and beckoned to the redhead. “You’re on gate duty now, are you not?”
“Yes, ser. The eastern gate.” Kochar’s eyes did not quite meet Cerryl’s. “Except for today.”
“That was my first gate duty,” mused Cerryl. “You still get farmers coming through?”
“Ah…”
“Not that many?” prodded Cerryl.
“No, ser.”
“You sell many medallions?”
“Not one, ser.” Kochar paused. “I’ve only been on gate duty for a half-season, and it is winter.”
“Still,” mused Cerryl, “they must have some provisions laid by to sell somewhere. Do not some ask about medallions?”
“There was one, an older man, but when he heard it would cost five coppers, he said he’d take his chances at the square in Howlett or even Weevett.”
“What did you say?”
“Wasn’t much I could say, ser, was there?”
“Not now. We’ll be trying to change that.” Cerryl paused. “Anyone tried to bring in perfumed oils packed inside timbers? They’re hard to sense if they’re not in leaded pottery.”
“Ah… not that I know.”
“You never know what might be in a wagon.” Cerryl nodded. “I won’t keep you.”
“Yes, ser. Thank you, ser.” With a bow, Kochar backed away.
As soon as the young mage’s head turned, Cerryl concealed himself with the blur screen.
Kochar glanced back once and almost stumbled when he could not see the High Wizard. Cerryl smiled to himself. One way or another… you’ll get them thinking you can be anywhere.
Cerryl crossed the fountain courtyard, ignoring the chill wind and raw air, and then along the corridor and into the library, watching a young woman in the red-trimmed whites of an apprentice who pored over a familiar map. It took him a moment to put name to face.
“What are you trying to find?”
Her eyes widened as she saw the amulet. “Oh, ser, honored High Wizard… ah…”
“I know. You’ve been told not to seek help from any full mages and now you have the High Wizard questioning you.” He gestured toward the map stretched on the table before her. “That map is familiar… It was the first big map I did-for Jeslek, even before he became High Wizard. I had to find out where Tellura, Meltosia, Quessa, and a few other places in Gallos were. What is your task? That you can tell me.” Cerryl smiled.
“I’m to find a place called Asula and one called Telsen.”
“Who set the task?”
“Overmage Redark, ser.”
“Add two more,” Cerryl said gently. “Diev and Axalt. You may ask anyone why they are important, but not their location.”
“Yes, ser.” The tone was not quite resigned.
“What do you think about the Black Isle?”
“The Blacks are our enemies.”
“So it has been said for many years,” Cerryl answered. “It will be for years to come. Yet most arms mages have died in Candar with few Blacks nearby, and never have the Blacks sent lancers or armsmen into Candar.”
“Ser?”
“All enemies are not those who are the most convenient to name.” Cerryl smiled enigmatically. “I wish you well on the map. Diev was somewhere in Spidlar, by the way, and Axalt in the Easthorns.”
“Was?”
“Good day, Meylal.” Cerryl stepped back past the bookcase, drawing the blur shield around him, so that he would appear to have vanished.
CLXXI
Cerryl glanced around the lamp-lit and silk-hung bedchamber, so similar to the first view of Leyladin’s chamber through his glass and yet so different in ways he could not describe but only feel.
“You look tired,” Leyladin said, standing behind him and rubbing his shoulders. “Your shoulders are tight. Lie down on the bed.”
Cerryl was glad to comply, easing off his boots and stretching out on the green coverlet. The breeze coming through the shutters that were cracked but a fraction of a span was chill yet held the hint of approaching spring.
The healer’s long fingers were firm but gentle as she massaged the tight muscles between his shoulder blades and spine. “Your muscles are like iron.”
“That’s from wondering who will appear behind me every time I leave the tower.” And if they’ll see through your blurring screen.
“You don’t have to walk the Halls of the Mages that much.”
“I don’t? How else do I establish that I could know anything and be anywhere? I’m not a mighty mage like Jeslek was, or a planner and plotter like Anya is.”
“You’re getting pretty effective. Kiella drew me aside yesterday. She wanted to know if I knew how you managed to slip through walls.”
“I wish I could sometimes.” Cerryl sighed, enjoying the kneading that relaxed and loosened his shoulders.
“She also said that someone had told her that you had removed all the traders in Spidlar. No one had seen you do it, nor knew how you had, not even to this day.” The healer’s fingers moved down his back.
“That feels good.” After a moment, he added, “I’m not getting respected but feared? Is that it?”
Leyladin laughed. “Both, I would say. That’s not too bad for a mage almost no one knew a season ago.”
“From nothingness to High Wizard in a single season.”
“Better that than the other way around.”
Facedown on the soft bed, Cerryl closed his eyes. He wanted to shake his head.
“You can’t have as much power as the High Wizard has and expect to be loved,” she said quietly. “Except by me and a few others who really know you.” After a moment, she added, “That’s true for everyone, really.”
“I suppose so. Sad, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but we won’t change that.”
Not if you want to change Candar, we won’t. He let his breath out slowly and tried to concentrate on the firm and gentle touch that had begun to relax a body all too tight.