Colors of Chaos

CLXXVII

AS SOON AS she seated herself at the table in the High Wizard’s quarters, Anya raised her eyebrows. “Come. Show us what your precious smith has done now, Cerryl.”

“I would be most happy to show you what Jeslek’s precious smith has done,” answered the High Wizard, pausing to blot sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He concentrated, and the silver mists formed, then parted.

A small schooner with sails was tied at a sturdy stone pier. The ship’s sails were furled, and a black pipe protruded from the main deck. Beside the schooner was a small two-masted fishing boat and, on the other side, another ship, jet-black, without masts, but with a slant-sided deckhouse, an open cylinder behind it, and smooth, curved hull lines. Workers attached black metal plates to the rear of the Black ship’s deckhouse. The three White wizards studied the scene in the mirror.

“What in darkness is it?” asked Fydel.

“Do we really want to find out?” Cerryl’s voice was sardonic. “You can sense the order he has poured into the iron.”

“Cerryl dear, you are so cautious. Look at the hillside. Those are tents beyond the first houses. Clearly, this…settlement is scarcely begun.”

Fydel raised his eyebrows. “The stone buildings appear rather solid, Anya.”

“As do the piers,” added Cerryl.

“You…men! If you can call yourselves that. We need to stop this before the Black Council decides this smith should build more such vessels. Right now, all he has is two small ships and a fishing boat and a few buildings. We wait much longer, and it gets that much harder.”

Cerryl cleared his throat. “Anya, we are not in the Council Chamber. The Guild has agreed to your plan. The southern fleet is already gathering in the Great North Bay. Within the next two eight-days, depending on the winds, it will be ready to set forth-exactly according to your plans.” He offered the redhead a broad smile. “What else would you have us do?”

“You are too accommodating, Cerryl.” Anya’s voice was smooth. “But I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I do trust that the fleet’s departure will be as you have projected and that there will be sufficient troop support to level this Black settlement.”

“You wish to prove to the Blacks that we can strike even upon their beloved isle?”

“It would aid our effort, would it not?” asked the redheaded wizard.

“If you so believe, then I bow to your wisdom, and I will make certain that all understand your words and observations.” Cerryl inclined his head. “I will ensure that the fleet leaves as you have planned. With some lancer detachments aboard.”

“Thank you.” Anya stepped back and inclined her head. “By your leave, Highest of High Wizards?”

“Of course.” Cerryl inclined his head in return, standing and watching as she left, waiting until she was outside his apartments.

Fydel waited impassively until the door shut. “You push her too much, Cerryl. With all her supporters, she could have your head tomorrow.”

“Perhaps. But would you want this position? Now, particularly?” The High Wizard looked down at the amulet, then turned and glanced out the window into the hot late-summer day, where the white-orange sun burned through the green-blue sky. Too bad you cannot remove her as you did Lyam and the others…but too many in the Guild know of your skills that way, and all would turn on you…now, anyway.

Fydel shook his head.

“Only the young bulls like Muerchal would want to be High Wizard.” Cerryl laughed and turned back to Fydel. “Mages like Disarj, Gorsuch-even Heralt and Lyasa-would have him turning in circles within days. Old and cautious as Kinowin and Redark are, either would be a far better High Wizard.”

“They don’t wish to be,” suggested Fydel. “It takes strength and skill, and cunning. You and Anya are the only ones left with such, save Gorsuch and Disarj, and both of them are rock lizards.” Fydel stood.

“You have your strengths,” Cerryl pointed out. “I would like you to consider being the fleet commander.”

“Me? If all is not well with the ships…”

“Anya will blame me, and then you.” Cerryl frowned, then added, “You have seen me. You know I do not lay my failures on others.”

The square-bearded mage shook his head. “You do not, but Anya would.”

“If you do not command, then she will seek someone like Muerchal or Zurchak-and then, should anything be amiss, she will blame you for not putting your expertise to work for the Guild.” Cerryl grinned lopsidedly. “After she blames me before the entire Guild for not insisting that you take the post.”

Fydel laughed. “Best I make preparations to go to Lydiar.” His face clouded, then cleared, and he nodded somberly. “By your leave?”

Cerryl nodded in return. As the door closed, Cerryl’s eyes went to the papers on the side of the desk, with the commission for Brental from Wertel, who, at Cerryl’s request, had found some buyers interested in quality-cut timbers and planks. You hope that it will help more than a little. Brental had been as good as his father to Cerryl when the High Wizard had been a sawmill boy there.

Can you repay them all? Probably not, but you have to try…just as you have to try to be the best High Wizard-knowing you can’t be.