Colors of Chaos

CXXXIX

THE SHADOWS OF the fast-moving clouds cooled the air and brought a hint of fall to Fairhaven as Cerryl walked down the Avenue toward the main Patrol building. Debts to pay-even forgotten ones, and those that involved no coins-he had more than he’d thought, but Kinowin had never steered him onto a false course.

A single horse clopped along past The Golden Ram, pulling an empty farm wagon. It could have been his imagination or poor recollections, but the streets of Fairhaven seemed less busy than when he had left for Spidlar, and he still wasn’t quite sure whether he recalled more bustle than had been the case or whether the war and the trading from Recluce had, in fact, reduced the traffic.

He turned south and walked swiftly, enjoying the cooler breeze.

The Patrol building was unchanged, and Cerryl paused momentarily in the rectangular and spare entry hall, taking in the two halls angling from the corners farthest from the entry, the backless oak benches, and the closed double oak doors on the back wall. The featureless and time-polished granite floor was still dull gray, and the only light came from the windows that flanked the entry door.

One of the two guards glanced at Cerryl.

“Cerryl to see Patrol Chief Isork, if he’s in.”

“I’ll see, ser.”

The patroller walked down the short hall, spoke through the open door, and then returned. “He’ll see you, ser.”

“Thank you.” Cerryl made his way to the familiar small room, no larger than six cubits by ten.

Isork, pudgy-faced and muscular, glanced up from the flat table desk on which rested a stack of parchmentlike papers, an inkwell, and a quill holder, and a single volume. “What brings you here, Cerryl?”

“I just got back from Spidlar a few days ago.” Cerryl forced what he hoped was an easy-looking smile. “I had some time to think. So I came back to thank you.”

Isork frowned. “For what? Throwing you off the Patrol?”

“No. For giving me the chance in the first place and for only throwing me off the Patrol.” Cerryl grinned. “You were most generous under the circumstances.”

“Well…word is you did a good job of running Elparta. You must have learned something here.” Isork’s voice remained neutral.

“I learned a great deal. I just didn’t learn to apply it fast enough. I did want to let you know that.” He added quickly, “I’m not asking to be brought back. I think I could do the job now, but that would set a very bad example for the future.”

Isork smiled wryly. “You have learned. It shows all over you, and it’s a shame, but I hope the Patrol will be with you whatever you do for the Guild. Do you think you’ll stay an arms mage?”

Cerryl almost shook his head. Surprisingly, he’d really never thought of himself as an arms mage, though that was clearly what he’d become. “I don’t know. For now, I’ll do what the High Wizard and the Guild wish of me.” Especially since I have little real choice.

“None of us have that much choice in the colors of White we wear.” Isork stood. “I wish you well, and I hope you’ll come back from time to time.”

“I will.” As he left, Cerryl understood something else. Isork had not asked more because the Patrol chief was waiting to see if Cerryl would come back again. One done, and more than a few to do.