Colors of Chaos

CLXXXIII

THE HIGH WIZARD dismounted at the alley gate, and the pair of lancers checked the courtyard before he crossed the rain-puddled stones and entered the small common room that had once seemed so spacious.

Beside the table stood a wide-eyed boy of less than a handful of years and a woman.

“Is that you, Cerryl?” Benthann’s voice was hoarse, and the once-blonde hair was mostly gray, the blonde like streaks of sunlight against gray autumn clouds.

He nodded.

“Why did you wait so long to come back?”

“Because had I shown any affection toward you or Tellis or Beryal, my enemies would have used you. The only way I could show my gratitude was not to come.” He smiled, not concealing the twist to his lips. “I did what else I could.”

“The golds in the leather bags?”

“Yes.”

“I thought they might have come from you.”

“Your son?” He inclined his head toward the towheaded boy. “He is handsome.”

“Like I was once, I suppose.”

“Yes. I always looked at you.”

“I know.” Her eyes dropped. “You’re not here just for me.”

“I need to thank Tellis. I owe where I am to him. Because he took in a mill boy and made him a scrivener.”

“He won’t know what to do.” Her voice was low. “He’s in the workroom.”

“Where else would he be?” Cerryl looked at the boy. “If you need help…”

“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.