“Only if I really need it.”
“If you do…” He nodded and stepped through the archway.
Tellis was bent over the copying desk as Cerryl stepped into the workroom, but the scrivener’s head jerked up. “Ser? I did not see you enter. My apologies, ser, my apologies. Have you seen the latest copies of the Histories?” Abruptly the scrivener stopped, his eyes on the golden amulet. “Oh, Your Mightiness… what can this humble scrivener-”
“Tellis.” Cerryl laid a manuscript on the table. “It’s been a long time, but I’d like you to make three copies for me. If you would…”
“Of course, honored ser. Of course.”
Cerryl wanted to wince at the politeness, the servility, the near-groveling. “As I told Benthann… I owe you my life and more, and until now there was little I could do to repay it, except through purses left by stealth. I am sorry… but I do try to repay my debts.”
After a moment, Tellis looked at the manuscript. “Your letters are wide… honored ser.”
“They were not, once upon a time.” Cerryl grinned crookedly. “If you could find some of the green leather, I would appreciate that. Oh… and if you can finish them by the turn of summer, your fee will be ten golds-for each of the three I need.”
“Some, honored ser, pay their debts, and that be what a good scrivener would hope for. You’ll have your three, and all in green.”
Cerryl finally nodded, knowing that to say more would not help. “Thank you. For everything.” For life, for Leyladin, for the chance to become what I have…for not making it too hard to try to repay debts… old debts.
“Thank you,” he repeated before, with another nod, he turned to head back to the White Tower.
CLXXXIV
Cerryl stood before the table as Kinowin and Redark entered the High Wizard’s official apartment, which had come to serve mainly as a meeting and conference room, since Cerryl and Leyladin continued to spend evenings at her dwelling.
“Thank you both. I’ve requested your presence for the Council to meet with the last of Anya’s…” Cerryl paused, searching for a word, then added, “acolytes.”
Redark glanced to where Leyladin stood by the window.
“The healer is most helpful in discerning shades of truth,” Cerryl said politely.
“Ah… yes.” Redark cleared his throat.
“Before they arrive, you should read this.” Cerryl handed the scroll that tingled from the order that filled it to the older overmage.
“What is it?” asked Kinowin as he seated himself to Cerryl’s right. “A request for terms from the Black mage.”
“Terms? He asks us for terms?” demanded the ginger-bearded Re-dark.
“Not exactly. I’d rather you read it. Then we can talk,” said Cerryl. After a moment, his face blank, Kinowin handed the heavy parchment to Redark.
The younger overmage read the document and returned it to Cerryl. “Can we trust him?”
“Considering that he can destroy any ship upon the seas, do we have any choice?”
“As I understand this,” Kinowin said, “he is proposing that we reduce the surtax on goods from Recluce to three parts in ten but will open the new port at Southpoint to any ships from Candar that do not carry White mages onboard.”
“I took the liberty of having Esaak do some calculations,” Cerryl explained. “Our factors will do better at three parts in ten. That is high enough to protect the wool growers.”
“Why would the Blacks do that,” asked Redark, “if their ship is so mighty?”
“Like all of us, they must eat, and they cannot compel our ships to port there,” said Cerryl.
“Because they need the grains and oilseeds and they can still charge more for those cargoes in Recluce. But they have to be able to sell something in Candar. They can’t travel one way in ballast,” suggested Kinowin.
“We can tell the Guild that we have gained trading rights in Recluce and that more trade will be coming to Candar.” Cerryl smiled. Besides, it doesn’t matter now that you’re getting control of the tariff collections.
“We lost… and you’re going to claim a victory?” Redark frowned.
“We didn’t lose. The Black can’t build enough ships to stop us from blocking their traders. If this keeps up, we both lose. So they give up something, and we give up something.”
“But… most of the trading on Recluce is at Land’s End.” Redark glanced at Kinowin.
“That will change,” predicted Cerryl. “Besides, do you have a better proposal? We only lost two ships this time. How many will we lose if we don’t agree? And how much will it cost us to keep up a blockade of the Black Isle?”
Redark shrugged. “I defer to the High Wizard.”
Cerryl wanted to sigh. Instead, he smiled. “The Guild needs to pick the battles it can win. By reinforcing our mage advisers with lancers in all the major ports we can collect more in tariff coins. That is a battle we can win, and we are winning.”
“The viscount and the prefect will protest.”
“Probably,” Cerryl admitted. “We now control Lydiar, most of Hydlen, Sligo, and Spidlar. If we do not have to blockade Recluce or our own coasts against Black traders, we can use those ships to quarantine Ruzor and Worrak. Neither Gallos nor Certis can muster the arms to stand against us now.”
Redark wiped his forehead. “You… you planned this from the beginning.”
Cerryl nodded. “I had help from many, but… yes, I did. By controlling the roads and the ports the Guild can unite Candar, at least that part east of the Westhorns. With the use of the screeing glasses, the White highways, and mages in the major ports and trading cities we can bring down any ruler who will not pay his tariffs and trade fairly.”
“The viscount…”
“I know,” admitted the High Wizard. “We will deal with him next, but this agreement will free the ships and armsmen to do so.”
Redark glanced from Cerryl to Kinowin, then back at the parchment before him. “You have dealt with… other rulers before… to the Guild’s advantage. I must defer to that expertise.”
“Dealing with Certis will be easier than with Recluce,” confirmed Kinowin.
“Thank you, Overmages.” Cerryl nodded. “Now… let us see Anya’s acolytes.”
Redark cleared his throat and glanced at Kinowin once more but did not speak.
“How many of Anya’s young followers are actually left?” asked Kinowin.
“Aalkiron was on the second ship that was fired by the Black mage’s weapons. That leaves three-Muerchal, Zurchak, and Giustyl.”
“You’ll see them all at once?” Redark adjusted his chair.
“Why not? I’d rather we not spend too much time on them.” And you might not have to ash them all that way.
“You’ll pardon me, High Wizard,” said Kinowin, “if I raise some shields?”
“They will be reasonable, I am certain,” offered Redark. “How could they not be… ah… given their position?”
“What is their position?” Kinowin’s voice was smooth.
“That… they were supportive… of Anya,” admitted Redark.
“So far, they have not done anything against the Guild,” Cerryl said. “Because of their closeness to Anya, I asked them to appear before the Council.”
Leyladin had moved her chair back and closer to the wall, next to the side table, as though she wanted to be disassociated from the three Council members.
Cerryl raised his voice and called, “Send in the mages!”
The three young mages entered the chamber and stood abreast facing the table, with the bull-necked Muerchal at Cerryl’s left, Zurchak in the middle, and the rail-thin Giustyl edging even farther to the right, as if he wanted to distance himself from the two others.
“The three of you are here because there is some question of your loyalty to Fairhaven and the Guild.” Cerryl’s voice was mild, almost conversational.
“After facing that black iron fire in the gulf?” Muerchal squared his
broad shoulders, but his green eyes fixed on Redark, not on Cerryl.
“I did notice that a number of ships turned from the Black vessel long before it could have been a threat,” Cerryl pointed out.
“Mine did not,” said Giustyl quietly. “We brought back the Black’s message.”
“What did it say?” asked Muerchal, almost belligerently.
Cerryl tilted his head. “It was for the Council-a request for terms beneficial to both the Guild and the Black Isle.”
“Beneficial to you, perhaps, Your Mightiness.” Muerchal’s contempt was not even veiled.
Once again, Cerryl wanted to sigh. Muerchal was not only stubborn but stupid. “You seem to forget that you stand before the Council, Muerchal.” He kept his voice mild.
“The Council? Two dodderers and a schemer?”
Cerryl could sense the chaos rising around Muerchal and raised his own shields, extending them to protect Leyladin as well.
Whhhsttt! Fire flared around the three Council members and past them toward Leyladin, then subsided.
Redark shuddered, and sweat had beaded on gaunt Kinowin’s forehead.
Cerryl glanced at Muerchal as the burly mage began to focus more chaos. Without so much as raising his hand, the High Wizard concentrated, and a line of golden light seared through Muerchal’s shields. The young mage crumpled onto the floor, but before his body even struck the stone it had begun to shiver into fine white ash, so much chaos had Cerryl directed there.
In the silence, Cerryl studied the sullen Zurchak and the silent Giustyl. “If I were Anya, or Sterol, you would be dead beside Muerchal. I am not either, nor like them.”
“So you will chain me in cold iron to soothe your conscience?” asked Zurchak ironically. “Your Mightiness?”
“Darkness, no.” Cerryl laughed. “Did you see what happened? Could you have stood against me?”
“No… no, ser.”
“Light, no…” murmured Giustyl in a voice so low as to be almost inaudible.
“I propose sending you-Zurchak-and a score of lancers to Summerdock. You will watch the traders there; and you will send a report every eight-day. You will tell me what ships have entered the port, what have left, what cargos were loaded, what were unloaded. You will report on anything you think will harm or benefit Fairhaven and the Guild. Several years from now, if you do well, you may be moved somewhere closer to Fairhaven-Ruzor, Worrak, perhaps Tyrhavven.”
Zurchak’s face remained impassive, but the darkness had vanished from his eyes.
“I give second chances,” Cerryl said quietly. “I do not give third chances.”
“Muerchal would be alive now,” added Leyladin from behind the Council, “had he not raised chaos against the High Wizard.”
Cerryl looked at the thin-faced Giustyl. “You will go to Biehl and do much the same.”
Giustyl nodded.
“I do not expect gratitude. I do expect obedience.” Cerryl offered a crooked smile that felt false. “If you attempt to betray the Guild, you will die, and you will never see that death approaching.”
Kinowin cleared his throat, loudly. “I would not interrupt the High Wizard in most matters, but you two should know something before you leave. Despite walls and guards, three rulers and a score of well-protected traders who schemed against the Guild have vanished into chaos over the past five years. The High Wizard does not make idle statements.” The older overmage smiled. “You should also know that I have never troubled myself to deceive. Nor do I now.”
Giustyl swallowed. Zurchak’s lips tightened.
“Are you willing to serve the Guild faithfully and well?” Cerryl asked. “And to build its strength throughout Candar?”
“Yes, ser.”
“Yes, Your Mightiness.”
“You may go.” The High Wizard waited for the two younger mages to leave. The door closed.
“Will they obey you?” Redark twisted to face Cerryl.
“Who knows?” Cerryl laughed softly. “They’ll be far enough away that almost anything they do will help the Guild. If it doesn’t, then we replace them with those who will obey.”
Redark frowned.
“What will protect them is the reputation of the Guild. If they betray the Guild and it becomes known…” Cerryl shrugged. “… one way or another they’ll die. Few people trust White mages who stand alone.”
“Another ruler?”
“If they leave Candar, fine. If they remain, they die.”
“You are more cruel than Sterol, Your Mightiness,” observed Re-dark.
“Cruel? I think not. I ask members of the Guild to serve faithfully and well. I accept honest mistakes. I punish treachery. Is that cruelty? Or will you and others think it cruel because I will not allow a mage to attempt to betray the Guild a second time? Because I do not play games with intrigue?” Except you have… You just wish you didn’t have to.
“I think… Cerryl,” Kinowin said gently, “the noble Redark has been so accustomed to… indirection… that he finds your methods somewhat too refreshingly direct. Perhaps he and I should talk.” The older overmage stood. “By your leave?”
Cerryl rose as well. “I will see you both later.”
The High Wizard and the healer waited until they were alone.
“Kinowin is going to explain a few things,” Leyladin said, her eyes twinkling. “Like how you won’t tolerate scheming and bribery and a few other time-accepted practices.”
“There are only a few mages left who know much of that.” Thank the light!
“There will be fewer who know such, and more honest mages.”
“The Guild will see to that,” Cerryl said.
“No, the Guild will not,” Leyladin replied, repeating her earlier words. “You will. We will.”
Cerryl knew her words were a promise, a long-delayed affirmation of Myral’s visions and Kinowin’s hopes, and the challenge that would occupy him for as long as he lived. He glanced toward the healer and the deep green eyes that enfolded him.
As long as we both live. With that thought, Leyladin smiled.
Cerryl felt her thought and smile, though his eyes traversed the winter lands beyond the White Tower, and the spring to come. So long as we both live.
By L.E. Modesitt, Jr.
THE SAGA OF RECLUCE
1 The Magic of Recluce
2 The Towers of the Sunset
3 The Magic Engineer
4 The Order War
5 The Death of Chaos
6 Fall of Angels
7 The Chaos Balance
8 The White Order
9 Colors of Chaos
10 Magi’i of Cyandor
11 Scion of Cyandor
THE SPELLSONG CYCLE
The Soprano Sorceress
The Spellsong War
Darksong Rising
THE ECOLITAN MATTER
The Ecologic Envoy
The Ecolitan Operation
The Ecologic Secession
The Ecolitan Enigma
THE FOREVER HERO
Dawn for a Distant Earth
The Silent Warrior
In Endless Twilight
Of Tangible Ghosts
The Ghost of the Revelator
The Timegod
Timediver’s Dawn
The Hammer of Darkness
The Parafaith War
Adiamante
The Green Progression (with Bruce Scott Levinson)
About The Author
L.E. MODESITT, JR., lives in Cedar City, Utah.
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