Colors of Chaos

XX

KINOWIN LOOKED UP from the table. “You had something odd happen? You only have to report to me once an eight-day, otherwise.”

“It’s not urgent,” Cerryl ventured.

Kinowin smiled wryly. “Since you’re already here, you might as well get on with it. Sit down.”

Cerryl eased into the chair across the table from the big blonde overmage. “The other day, I had another farmer buy a medallion for his cart. The cart was older, but it had never had a medallion.” Cerryl studied the older mage.

Kinowin nodded. “Farmers have been known to buy medallions.”

“I checked the ledger. There have been almost a score since midsummer. Last year there were five; the year before, seven.” Cerryl shrugged. “I don’t know where the older ledgers are.”

“In the archives. Esaak could tell you where. Or Broka, I suspect.” Kinowin stood and moved over toward his latest hanging, the one with the blue and purple diamonds pierced with the black quarrels, and his fingers touched the wool for an instant. Then he shook his head and continued to the window, where he stood silhouetted against the green-blue afternoon sky and the scattered white and gray clouds. “Did you tell the lancers what you were looking for?”

“No. An eight-day or so ago, I did ask if we’d had more farmers than usual. This time, I just asked if I could look through the ledgers.”

“Good. Try to follow that example when you can. There are enough rumors in Fairhaven as it is.”

“About the ships?” Cerryl asked. “Or about Prefect Syrma?”

“Those are the most common,” Kinowin acknowledged. “What have you heard?”

“Only that the Guild is having trouble getting all the brass-work for the first ships.”

“The first ships aren’t the problem. They never are. Suppliers want the coins for the later vessels. They’re happy to deliver at first. Then it gets harder.” Kinowin turned from the window. “Why did you ask about the farmers?”

“It seemed like more wanted to sell in the city, and then The Golden Ram increased what it charged for meals.”

“That’s not surprising. There haven’t been any rains in Hydlen south of Arastia since spring. Nor in southern Kyphros. Food prices are increasing.”

“So farmers can get more by selling themselves, rather than to the factors?”

“They think so. Some do; some don’t.” Kinowin offered a wintry smile. “It’s not a problem yet.”

“I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“That’s not a problem.” Kinowin fingered his chin. “Why don’t you bring it up at the next Guild meeting? Except say that it could lead to worries in the city because the farmers are asking for more. That means that artisans will want more…”

“Oh…”

“We’ve already heard rumblings about that. But if you bring it up, it won’t be as if I have a blade to whet.”

Cerryl nodded.

“How is your healer friend?”

Cerryl shrugged. “I don’t know. Sterol sent her to Jellico. Viscount Rystryr’s son is ailing. No one knows why. She probably won’t be back before harvest.”

“I have no doubts the boy will recover, at least while she is there. Maladies seem far more common for heirs. They always have been.” Kinowin’s eyes flicked back to the roofs beyond the Halls.

Cerryl rose. “That was all. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“Don’t be. You have a good feel for matters. You’re just feeling things that haven’t happened. They will. We haven’t had as much rain as normal, either. It happens every few years, but people forget-except the factors.” After a pause, Kinowin added, “I’ll see you an eight-day from now, unless something important happens.”

“Yes, ser.”

As he walked down the steps to the foyer, Cerryl wanted to shake his head. Kinowin had as much as told him that food was going to become even dearer. Was that why Leyladin’s father, Layel, was traveling all over eastern Candar? Arranging to buy grains and the like for more coins than in the past, but less than what the grains would actually fetch come harvest?