Colors of Chaos

LXXIV

WONDERING WHY KINOWIN had summoned him, Cerryl rapped on the overmage’s door. Has he discovered something about the woman trader? Or the smith?

“Come in, Cerryl.”

Cerryl entered and closed the door behind him. The room was warm, despite the chill outside the White Tower and the lack of a hearth within the overmage’s chamber. With the warmth was the scent of something almost astringent, healer-like.

“You summoned me?”

Kinowin gestured to a chair, and Cerryl sat, still wondering.

“Cerryl,” said the overmage. “Jeslek has suggested to me that you accompany the expedition to Spidlar.”

“Me? A former Patrol mage who couldn’t abide by the rules?” Cerryl kept his voice dubious, but not sarcastic, because sarcasm would annoy Kinowin. Why had Jeslek not told Cerryl himself? The High Wizard had not hesitated to do so in the past.

“Few in the lancers know that, but most would deem that a benefit. Jeslek claims he’ll need someone to restore peace in the bigger towns, but someone who’s seen battles and will be useful. He implied that someone who would not be missed in other ways would be more suitable.”

Cerryl winced. “He wants me out of his way and to disappear when he’s safely conquered Spidlar.”

“That may be. But…if you do well, and survive, you most likely won’t have to worry about arrows from side streets for the rest of your life. Or being sent out to remove fractious rulers single-handedly.” Kinowin’s tone was half-humorous, half-serious. He frowned. “You know, do you not, that a new duke has yet to emerge in Hydolar? Nor have the road tariffs been paid.”

“I didn’t know. I don’t think I’m surprised. Are you suggesting that Jeslek might send me back there if I don’t go with the expedition to Spidlar?”

“I could not presume to guess the High Wizard’s intent.” Kinowin’s eyes twinkled, and an ironic smile appeared-briefly.

“What do you think Myral would have said?” Cerryl asked.

“He would have suggested you go. I’m certain of that.” Kinowin offered a gentle smile.

Cerryl grinned and then shrugged. “I’ll go.” Not that there was much choice. “Is there anything special I should take that I don’t know enough to think about?”

Kinowin cocked his head. “Patience. After that, a spare pair of boots and an extra good wool blanket. You’ll be going before the High Wizard with Fydel to Jellico. You and Fydel will accompany the Certan levies and their commanders from Jellico to Spidlar, when the time comes.”

“Just us?”

“You’ll have a large detachment of White Lancers, but most will be with Jeslek, I understand. He has some plan in mind. He hasn’t disclosed it, and I doubt he will.”

“He must be…preoccupied.”

“Not to tell you himself?” The overmage sipped something from his mug, though it did not seem like cider or yellow fir tea to Cerryl. “He will, in time, but he is only one mage, and matters have gotten far from simple in recent eight-days. Far from simple.” Kinowin set the mug down on the table and glanced toward the purple and blue hanging.

“The woman trader went back to Spidlar,” Cerryl ventured.

“I know. That was a time back. I doubt Jeslek’s plan will work, but there’s little either of us can do. Not now and not at this distance. I fear it may turn upon him, and I told him so, though he did not consult me, either, before undertaking it.” Kinowin shook his head. “You can do nothing. Not now. Concentrate on what you can do.”

That’s hard…and getting harder. “I’ll try.”

“You’d better try harder…if you want to survive this next year.” Kinowin lifted the mug once more. “That was all I wanted to tell you.”

“Thank you.” Cerryl rose, still filled with doubts and questions, so many that he couldn’t have centered on one at that moment. As he left, he could still smell the astringent odor. Was Kinowin drinking something because he was ill? Or to prevent illness?

The thought of the Guild without Kinowin as overmage sent a chill down Cerryl’s back as he headed for the steps out of the Tower.