The White Order(134)
“You’re not that old and tired.”
“You’re kind but inaccurate. Best you get off to serve Jeslek . . . and Cerryl?”
“Yes, ser.”
“He will be High Wizard one day. So be most careful.”
Cerryl nodded. He had no intention of ever being other than most careful where Jeslek and Sterol—and Anya and Kinowin—were involved. He closed the door firmly, but not hard, and took a deep breath. What would being Jeslek’s assistant involve? After a moment, he shrugged and started down the tower steps.
The foyer was empty, except for the tower guards. Was it his imagination, or were all the Halls of the Mages more deserted? Just because mages wanted out of the summer heat? Or because of the troubles that Myral had mentioned?
Cerryl paused in the courtyard, beside the fountain, and blotted his forehead, lingering in the fountain’s spray to cool off before he marched toward the rear hall.
At the upstairs rear of the hall that contained his own cell, Cerryl paused at the door where the guard, a lancer in white he did not know, rapped on the white oak.
“Send Cerryl in.”
Cerryl stepped into Jeslek’s quarters. The white mage seemed to blaze with power.
Cerryl halted, not even closing the door.
“You can close it.”
Cerryl complied.
“I will not cross words with you, young Cerryl.” Jeslek’s golden eyes glittered. “You are here as Sterol’s tool to watch over me as much as assist me. You know that, and I know that.”
“The honored Sterol did not tell me such, ser.”
Jeslek snorted. “He does not have to tell you such. How can you not answer his questions?”
“He is the High Wizard, ser.” Cerryl felt as though he walked the edge of a cliff.
“You would pay such allegiance to any who might be High Wizard?” A slow smile crossed Jeslek’s face.
“Would I have any choice, ser?”
Jeslek laughed. “I said I would not cross words with you, and yet you cross words with me. For a student mage, you are dangerous, young Cerryl.”
Cerryl waited, feeling silence was his only response.
“I know you can wield more chaos than you manifest. How much more, that I do not know, save that it is nowhere near what I could bring to bear upon you. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, ser.”
“And I can tell that is a truthful answer. That will suffice.” Jeslek pointed to the chair beside the screeing table. “As my first assistant, you may sit. Kochar will be taking your place, and he, like you did, has much to learn.” The white-haired wizard seated himself.
Cerryl sat as well, but slightly forward on the chair.
“Sterol should have told you about the intolerable situation in Gallos. Has he?”
“He and Myral told me about the new prefect, and about how the traders of Spidlar are taking goods from Recluce.”
Jeslek nodded. “And you know that we have sent close to four thousand lancers to Certis to support the viscount, and to move them closer to Gallos?”
“I knew that most from the southern barracks had been sent, but not how many.”
“I am glad Sterol has informed you somewhat.” Jeslek pulled at his chin. “We will be going to Gallos, but not for a handful of eight-days. We will be addressing the prefect’s problems.” A grim smile followed. “Not in exactly the way he would prefer. In the meantime, we have some last chores to consider, including cleaning the aqueduct.” Jeslek stood. “You will certainly handle some of the work, but I will be supervising as well. It matters not if sewage isn’t perfectly clean, but water is something else.”
Jeslek pointed to the glass. “Can you call up an image?”
“I have not tried since I came, ser.”
“We won’t spend time on your experimenting here. You have my leave to practice, but you are not to observe through the glass any full mages. I would strongly suggest you attempt to use the glass to locate places along the Great White Highway in Certis and Gallos.”
“Yes, ser.”
“You may take a glass from the storeroom and practice in your cell until you are proficient. Meet me here tomorrow right after breakfast.” Jeslek stood.
So did Cerryl. Then he bowed and left, closing the door quietly behind him. He had leave to use the glass—really for the first time. A smile crossed his face as he started down the corridor.
LXXXII
CERRYL SET THE small glass on his desktop and pulled up his stool, looking blankly at the silver surface that reflected the books on the shelf.
What did he know? Know well enough to call up in the glass?
Cerryl concentrated on Dylert’s mill, trying to envision the barns and the mill and the house, trying to draw that image from the light that was chaos and permeated all the world.