Colors of Chaos

CXL

CERRYL SAT AT the freshly polished flat desk in his room, a room that seemed far smaller than when he had left it.

“After having a mansion as your headquarters in Elparta,” he murmured with a self-deprecating smile, “your perceptions might just change.” Quite a change from an orphan happy to have a closet to himself.

He looked at the glass, then concentrated until the image of a coach filled the glass, and from what he could tell, the coach was well past the turnoff for Howlett and not all that far from Fairhaven.

Cerryl set aside the glass with a half-smile. Leyladin was indeed on her way back to Fairhaven, and with the clear roads she should be at her father’s mansion before evening. Cerryl glanced out at the late midafternoon sun, then stood and stretched.

He paced across the narrow confines of his quarters. Sterol had sent a messenger ordering Cerryl to stand ready to attend the High Wizard. He couldn’t very well leave the Halls, and he had to wonder what the High Wizard wanted, especially after Kinowin’s warning nearly an eight-day earlier. Yet, until now, nothing had happened, and he’d been left to himself.

The sharp knock echoed through the room.

“Yes.” He took two steps and opened the door.

The messenger in red peered up at him, almost fearfully.

“Mage…Cerryl, the High Wizard would see you now.”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

“Yes, ser.” The messenger looked decidedly unhappy with that phrase.

“Go on. I’ll be there.”

Without a word, the youth raced back toward the stairs and the White Tower. Cerryl walked quickly, but not enough to raise too much of a sweat in the muggy heat.

Still, Sterol glared as Cerryl entered the High Wizard’s chambers. “You took long enough.” Although the High Wizard was seated behind the conference table, he did not gesture for Cerryl to sit.

“I came immediately. I did not run because I wished to be ready to do your bidding.” Cerryl could smell the scent of trilia and sandalwood, but Anya was not in the chamber.

“You do little bidding but your own, Cerryl, from what I can tell.” Under the iron-gray hair, Sterol’s red-rimmed eyes were unblinking as they studied the younger mage. “So…what is the Guild to do with you? You are an arms mage who is hopeless with weapons. You are a Patrol mage who cannot return to the Patrol. You are yet too young to train apprentices in the sewers and too experienced to continue as a simple gate guard.”

Cerryl frowned, as if in thought. “I could assist one of the overmages. Or I could continue to follow what the smith does in Recluce and what he plans. Or I could help supervise the younger gate guards.”

Sterol smiled. “Perhaps you should do all three. Report to Kinowin and tell him that he is responsible for your accomplishing all three duties successfully. He is in charge of the gate details, in any case. Should the smith do something that merits my attention, you will first tell the overmage. You are not to disturb me without his approval. Do you understand?”

“Yes, honored Sterol.”

“Go find Kinowin and inform him.”

“Yes, ser.”

“I do not wish to see you, or hear of you, except as Kinowin sees fit. You are far too full of yourself for one so relatively inexperienced.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Don’t think you’re deceiving me with your politeness, either.”

“What do you wish?” Cerryl asked. “The High Wizard merits courtesy.”

“Just go.”

Cerryl nodded and turned, ready to lift his order/chaos shields at the slightest hint of chaos from Sterol, but he left the topmost level of the White Tower without either chaos or more words from the High Wizard.

Kinowin was in his quarters, much as Myral had been, as if he had been waiting for Cerryl and his orders from Sterol.

Cerryl immediately repeated his conversation with the High Wizard, concluding, “…so I am your charge.”

“The High Wizard wants you kept well away from him…well away. That is as much Anya’s doing as his.”

“She had been in his chamber before me.”

“She is there most often, far more than merely to pleasure Sterol or herself. Leave that aside. There is little either of us can do about that at the moment. In order to please Sterol, we will follow this pattern. Report to me either before noon or before the evening bell each day on what the smith has done. On the even days you are to visit and inspect, unseen, the gate guards in whatever order you see fit. At the evening bell, report anything that needs addressing. On the odd days, see me after breakfast for anything I may need help with. The evenings are yours, and I hope you spend little of them in the Halls.” Kinowin smiled. “Use what days you have; the life of a mage is short enough.”

“Ah…thank you.”

“Go. You can start tomorrow.” The older mage cocked his head and smiled. “She should almost be at her father’s, and you might wish to greet her. The flower sellers are still on the square.”

Cerryl stood. “By your leave?”

“By my command, if necessary.”

Cerryl fled, hiding the smile.