Read Colors of Chaos Online

Authors: L. E. Modesitt

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic

Colors of Chaos (91 page)

“High Wizard,” asked Fydel, his voice blunt, “nearly a score of mages have been assassinated by agents of various rulers. What do you plan to do to redress such wrongs?”

“We have totally destroyed dissident traders and their Council in Spidlar. We have replaced the larger local traders there with traders from Fairhaven loyal to the Guild. We have begun to obtain tariff golds for the first time in years. In turn, we will address the wrongs of other lands.” Cerryl smiled.

“Honored Cerryl,” asked Huroan, the second in command of the Patrol, “folk have said that you started a Patrol in Spidlar. Is that so?”

“That is so. The Patrol has worked well for Fairhaven, and it seemed that it would work well for Spidlaria. Fairhaven has much to offer Candar, and for those offerings it should be repaid.”

A smile flitted across the Patrol mage’s face before he sat down.

The thin and angular Broka rose, almost languidly. “Your words bespeak both the need for action and a certain… caution, High Wizard. Which can we expect?”

Cerryl managed to keep from choking or even showing his surprise at the double-edged bluntness of the question. “How about caution when it is merited and action when it is necessary?” He offered a self-deprecating grin. “I’m sure that you and the overmages will make your feelings known about which course you feel is appropriate when.” Before another question could come up, he bowed again. “I thank you all for your interest, and your support, and I would ask that any of you who have recommendations or advice let the overmages know, and we will address them as we can.” He stepped back and nodded to Kinowin.

“The High Wizard having been selected, and there being no other business before the Guild, the assembly is ended.”

Cerryl shook Redark’s hand, then Kinowin’s. “Thank you both.” Kinowin’s eyes twinkled. “The year ahead will be most interesting.” Cerryl feared he was right, all too right.

 

 

CLXVIII

 

Cerryl sat with his back to the window, Leyladin in the seat to his right and Anya across the table. The shutters were closed against the rain and the damp, chill air.

Cerryl massaged his forehead once, then forced himself to keep his hand from his throbbing forehead.

“What do you plan to do about Recluce, Cerryl?” The heavy scent of sandalwood and trilia drifted across the table from the redhead. “Now that you are High Wizard?”

“Make preparations as I can.” Cerryl shrugged. “First, we need to raise more golds.”

“Raise the tariffs, then.” Anya waved off the need for golds.

“Perhaps I should put it more clearly, Anya. I do not like Fairhaven suffering. We are suffering because we must maintain the roads and some of the ports. That costs golds. We are short of golds not because the tariffs were too low, but because Certis, Spidlar, and Gallos were not paying all they owed. Spidlar is paying now, and the revenues are increasing every season. To obtain the golds necessary to support an attack on Recluce-even a sea battle to destroy their ships-we need more golds. I cannot obtain more golds by raising tariffs rulers do not pay. I cannot fight another war that will cost more golds than we have to obtain golds.”

“Then what will you do,” Anya snorted, “cautious Cerryl?”

“What Jeslek wished to do and Sterol did not understand. Gain control of the major trade ports and thus raise more golds.”

Anya raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Between Sedelos and the trader Wertel in Lydiar we have almost doubled the tariff golds there in the last season. And I am working on a plan to increase the tariffs that Certis pays.”

“We will have golds in a year, but no power.”

“If we have no golds, Anya, we shall be powerless even sooner.”

“At least, you have the right idea.” Anya turned to the healer. “You should encourage him to act, Leyladin.”

“I am sure he will act,” the healer said gently. “And he will weigh your words most heavily. He always has.”

“From you, those words have great meaning, and some small comfort.” Anya frowned as she stood. “Very well, I will bide, and tell Fydel and the others that you are raising the funds necessary to confront the Blacks. I can also tell them that you have been hampered by Sterol’s extravagances which left the Guild’s coffers near empty.”

“They were indeed near empty,” Cerryl affirmed. If not precisely for those reasons.

“And it is good you do not plan to tax further our own traders.” Anya bowed. “They will appreciate that.” She turned. “By your leave?”

“I would hope so.” Especially Jiolt.

Once the door closed, Leyladin shook her head. “She wants you to attack Recluce.”

“I can’t do it now, even if I wanted to. She knows that.”

“She will keep pressuring you.”

“Of course. That is how she will destroy me. She will make the Blacks the enemy, as Jeslek did, and if I fail to destroy them, then she will blame me for the traders’ woes and those of the Guild and find another High Wizard.” Unless you can turn her schemes.

Leyladin reached for the goblet of water. “She may, even with your understanding.”

“I know. I can only do what I can, and I can do nothing without more golds and tariff coins.”

“Father and Lyasa sent more than you expected.”

“Nearly a thousand golds, but that will be all until next summer, I fear. The ice grows now on the Northern Ocean. Tyrhavven will stay clear of the ice for another few eight-days, perhaps longer if the weather remains not too cold.”

Leyladin reached out and squeezed his hand. “You didn’t think it would be this way, did you?”

“I knew it would be, but I had hoped otherwise.” He took a sip of water, then stood. “I need to walk through the Halls. I cannot remain cloistered in the tower, not when so few know or recall me.”

“I will return to the house. It would not be well for a Black to accompany you.” She paused as she rose. “I do expect you for dinner, and you are not sleeping here.”

“Yes, dearest lady.” He had to smile.

Leyladin returned the smile.

 

 

CLXIX

 

Cerryl turned in the chair and glanced out the Tower window. The winter clouds threatened cold rain or wet snow, but nothing was yet falling from them, nor was his head throbbing.

“The mage Heralt,” declared the guard outside the door.

“Please have him come in.” Cerryl stood, moving from behind the table, still amazed after more than a pair of eight-days that he was the High Wizard and that people were deferring to him. Except they defer to the title and the position, not to you.

Heralt looked much the same as when Cerryl had last seen him-short brown curly hair, olive eyes, and a trace of diffident shyness. There were the beginnings of lines in his forehead and dark circles under his eyes. “High Wizard.”

“Please sit down. Would you like some wine?”

“Please.”

Cerryl poured a half-goblet of the white-for some reason it kept in the tower better than the red or the rose-then sat down. “I appreciate your making the trip here at this time of year.”

“As the High Wizard commands.”

Cerryl wanted to sigh. Instead, he said, “Please save the ceremony for the public. You’re still Heralt, and I’m still Cerryl, and I need your help.”

“Mine?” The surprise in Heralt’s voice shocked Cerryl. “What can I do? I’m not that powerful. You know that. That’s why they sent me to Ruzor to count ships and cargoes and be Shenan’s assistant.”

“I need every mage’s help, but you have skills that will be most useful in the seasons ahead. These are skills few mages have.”

“I cannot say what those might be,” confessed the olive-eyed young mage.

“Heralt, is your father still trading?” Cerryl found himself standing, then pacing back and forth across the stone floor of the High “Wizard’s apartment, still half-bemused that the quarters-and the position-were his.

“No, ser. He died last spring.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. And please… I’m just Cerryl here. I know the proprieties have to be observed in public… but this isn’t public.”

“It’s hard… the High Wizard.”

“You didn’t expect a friend to be High Wizard so soon?”

“No.” Heralt grinned. “I thought you might be one day, but not so soon.”

“I’m High Wizard because the Guild is threatened and weakened. Whether the Guild survives or not depends on whether we can enforce the tariffs throughout Eastern Candar. I’ve sent Lelyadin’s father to Spidlaria, and Lyasa and Syandar are working with him to rebuild the trading and factoring system there. Between Duke Estalin’s debt to Leyladin and my support of Wertel-”

Heralt looked blank at the name.

“Another trader from Fairhaven, and Leyladin’s brother,” Cerryl explained. “Lydiar is obeying the tariff rules, and the Guild has taken the port of Renklaar. East of the Westhorns, that leaves three places- Ruzor, the two smaller ports of Hydlen, and Tyrhavven. Now, if we can ensure the tariffs are collected in Tyrhavven, that will give the Guild control of all tariff coins across the whole north and east coasts, except for Worrak, and the blockade ships can be used for other things-controlling smugglers…”

“And an attack on Recluce?”

Cerryl shrugged.

“I’d rather go on one of the ships.”

“Heralt… you understand trade. When we were both apprentices, you explained it to me. The Guild needs you in Tyrhavven. I need you there. I need someone who can understand things and keep the traders in line.”

“They won’t listen to me.”

“They will if you’re my representative and if you have tenscore lancers behind you and a pair of apprentices to assist.”

“Who… the apprentices?”

“You can pick them. Then tell me, and I will summon them to meet you here, so that it is clear that they go with you by my command.”

“Tyrhavven is that important?”

“More important than you know. Also, if you hear anything about the viscount moving troops into Sligo or mustering them, let me know. Do not wait for confirmations or reports.”

“I see you trust him highly.”

“I found him taking the bulk of the road tariffs for his own use, but that was during the war with Spidlar and Jeslek would not let me act on what I discovered, save to remove Shyren and one of the viscount’s ministers. I doubt that replacing a minister changed anything. The tariffs from Certis have continued to decline.”

“But Tyrhavven?”

“We now control the ports of Spidlar and Lydiar. From where else can Rystryr and his traders obtain trade goods from Recluce and Hamor?”

“The Sligan Council will not be pleased.”

“They will not, but I will send another twenty-score lancers if need be and blockade Tyrhavven, and I have already let messages be intercepted and sent to their traders indicating such.” Cerryl shrugged. “Since I am known as the mage who butchered the leading Spidlarian traders…”

“Do you think Rystryr will send lancers?”

“That is possible, but he knows that the Guild removed his brother and that three Dukes of Hydlen and the prefect of Gallos have been removed.”

Heralt’s mouth opened. “That… I did not know…”

“Rystryr may send crossbowmen against you-he did against me and against Eliasar-but he will do little that can be tracked to his lair. So… you must be careful.” Cerryl smiled crookedly. “Do you still wish to go to Tyrhavven?”

“How could I not go? Would that not make me mage adviser there?”

Cerryl nodded.

“And what else do you want me to do once I am there?”

“If your lancers get restless for action, have them patrol the roads- against brigands and smugglers.” Cerryl added dryly, “Those tend to appear once we start seeking to change the way matters have been.”

“And they once wore green?”

“Some have. Fydel and Shyren gave Rystryr that idea.”

“Tyrhavven still sounds better than Fairhaven or Ruzor.”

“I hope you find it so.” Cerryl slowly stood. “I’ll leave my quarters here with you.”

Heralt raised his eyebrows.

“I walk the Halls, talk to folk… that sort of thing.”

“Oh?”

“I have to. No one knows me. Both Sterol and Jeslek took pains to keep me away from Fairhaven and out of sight when I was here.”

Heralt nodded slowly. “That is why you allow Anya such latitude?”

“Unhappily… for now.”

“Best you be careful. She has many allies that she has cultivated for many years. You must know that.”

“Leyladin reminds me most often.” Cerryl’s tone was wry.

“Listen to her.”

“I do.”

Bental, one of the newer tower guards, watched as Cerryl and Heralt stepped out.

“I’ll be somewhere in the Halls,” Cerryl said.

“Yes, ser.” Bental nodded.

They had no more than descended into the front foyer before Cerryl sensed that Redark had appeared, hurrying down the steps behind them to catch Cerryl.

“High Wizard… ser…”

“I will see you later, Heralt.” Cerryl gave a twisted grin before smoothing his face and turning to Redark.

“Yes, ser.” Heralt bowed and turned toward the rear of the front Hall.

“Yes, Overmage Redark?” Cerryl waited.

“Ser… I just received a scroll from Gorsuch, in Renklaar.” Redark raised his eyebrows. “A very important scroll it is, but you had already left your quarters.”

“I do need to be visible at times, Overmage. What did mage adviser Gorsuch send you that was so vital?”

“He is requesting at least one of the blockade ships off Spidlar be reassigned to patrol the waters off Renklaar and especially around Pyrdya. There are more smugglers there now.”

“I can’t say that I am surprised.” Cerryl nodded. “Since Spidlaria is iced in or will be shortly, the White Serpent and one other ship could be sent to patrol the area off the Ohyde River delta and off Pyrdya. Draft the dispatches, and have them ready for me this afternoon.” Cerryl waited, then asked, “Does Gorsuch have other difficulties?”

“Ah… he suggests that Renklaar is a strenuous post and that perhaps another mage would be helpful.”

Cerryl fingered his chin. “Hmmm… I do not know who we could spare to aid him at this very moment, but he is indeed skilled. Perhaps we could review those junior mages on gate duty? If you would, brief me on them-their strengths and skills-then we could meet with them in the next eight-day. Tell Gorsuch we value his long-standing efforts and we are working to send him assistance.”

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