Colors of Chaos

LXXVI

 

 

 

Cerryl settled into the chair uneasily, waiting for Jeslek to speak, his eyes half on the heavy flakes of wet late-winter snow that plummeted past the windows of the White Tower.

 

“Overmage Kinowin has already told you that I’ll like you to accompany the expedition against Spidlar.” Jeslek smiled tightly, seeming almost coiled like a serpent in his chair, for all that he appeared to be sitting normally across his table from Cerryl. “Anya has also told me that you have discovered on your own the order strength of the young smith Dorrin-and that you have concerns that he may act against the Guild.”

 

Cerryl forced a shrug. What can you say? After a moment, he answered, his words deliberate. “The smith left Recluce, and he forges items embodying great order. I found that out in trying to find out where the road coins were going.”

 

“So? They are still only toys and implements for crafters.” Jeslek raised his eyebrows.

 

“He has built a home and a smithy and a barn. I doubt that he wishes to return to Recluce. Perhaps, with what he has forged, he cannot.” Cerryl hoped he was as correct as his words sounded.

 

“That is most likely the case.”

 

“Well, he carries a great deal of order, and if he has nowhere else to turn, and if the Guild attacks where he lives, he might feel compelled to act against us.”

 

“That is also true-but he is an order smith. He cannot even make edged weapons. I doubt he will be more than a nuisance. I worry far more about the two who have become officers. They have already done much damage.” Jeslek frowned briefly. “Have you made any more discoveries about the misdirected road tariffs?”

 

“I’ve found a few more people in the viscount’s court that seem to have prospered more than there is any way to find through a glass. It’s hard from here, and not knowing much about them,” Cerryl admitted, shifting his weight on the hard chair.

 

“We will be gathering levies in Jellico, and you can continue your efforts there as well, since you will have little else to do until we actually begin the campaign against Spidlar.” The High Wizard’s sun-gold eyes glittered, and for a moment Cerryl thought he could smell chaos and brimstone in the tower.

 

“When do we leave, ser?”

 

“You and Fydel will leave in an eight-day. I need to attend to some matters in Hydolar-such as the missing road tariffs and the thousand golds for damages. Nonetheless, I intend to have everyone in Jellico before the turn of spring-except for the last group of White Lancers Eliasar is training.”

 

“You are going?”

 

“Of course. The rulers of other lands do not seem to fear a High Wizard who remains in Fairhaven. This time, it will be different. Much different. As the traders of Hydolar will discover first-to their peril.” The sun-gold eyes glittered.

 

“Yes, ser.”

 

“You may go and begin to prepare, Cerryl.”

 

The younger mage nodded.

 

“Cerryl… best you recall that all has saved you is your devotion to Fairhaven. That devotion should remain most firm.”

 

“It will, High Wizard. It will.”

 

“I thought as much. Good day, Cerryl.”

 

 

 

 

 

LXXVII

 

 

 

Cerryl and Leyladin stood in the entry foyer of her house. Outside, a cold drizzle fell through the darkness, the mist rising from the stone walks and roads thick enough to blot out the lamps from the adjoining houses.

 

“I enjoyed dinner, and being here… again.” Cerryl dropped his hand from the door and took her hands. Her fingers were cool in his.

 

“Father talked too much…” A wry smile flashed across her lips and vanished.

 

“It was all right. He doesn’t have too many people to talk to, I wouldn’t imagine. Not besides you.”

 

Leyladin frowned.

 

“What’s the matter?”

 

“Sometimes…” She offered a small sigh, taking her hands back, but not moving away. “Sometimes, I’m not good at being patient, either. I wish I were.”

 

“You could come. Jeslek wouldn’t mind having a healer.”

 

“No. If I come, then you can’t do what you must. You won’t look out for yourself, and then we’ll have no chance at all.” Her words were firm. “I don’t like it. But I know.”

 

Cerryl wanted to shake his head. “Know what?”

 

“You’re leaving tomorrow. How do you feel about that?” Leyladin asked.

 

“Worried. You didn’t answer my question.”

 

“Worried about what?” Her deep green eyes glinted.

 

“Leaving you, of course.”

 

“Ha! You said that because I expected it.”

 

Cerryl forced an enigmatic smile.

 

“Don’t do that.” She frowned. “I can’t tell if you’re teasing or if you’re still giving me that order-cursed smile because you don’t want to disagree with me.”

 

Cerryl grinned. “You’re beautiful when your eyes flash like that.”

 

“They will flash. I know Anya’s going with Jeslek, after they deal with Hydolar, but you’ll end up in Spidlar together-or close enough-She’s still pure poison, especially for you. She may smile, but she hates you, partly because you don’t manipulate easily and partly because of me. She can’t stand the thought that a White mage could love-and touch-a Black.”

 

“I can see that… Is that why you can’t come?”

 

“Partly. Kinowin also asked that I not go.”

 

Cerryl concealed a swallow. At times, it seemed as though he were still the mill boy or the apprentice and everyone else knew what was happening and and he could only catch glimpses. Even when he asked and searched, he got no answers or answers that weren’t answers at all. “Did he say why?”

 

“He said it would be a war, a war that Candar had not seen the like of and would not again until Fairhaven fell, and that would be many more generations. Many more.”

 

From anyone but Kinowin… “He said that?”

 

“He told me that my going wouldn’t be good for me or for you. He was most firm.” Her eyes glinted with anger, anger Cerryl could feel before it faded. “Most firm.”

 

Leyladin smiled sadly and put her arms around Cerryl. “He also said you had much to do and to learn… if Myral’s visions were to come to pass.”

 

“What about us?”

 

“If they don’t…” Her eyes misted in the dim light.

 

Cerryl hugged her to him, even more tightly, so tightly he almost felt that black and white, or black and gray, twisted around each other in the dimness. Their lips met, and there was no hesitation, not for either.

 

 

 

 

 

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