The White Order(175)

“If you doubted him, why did you undertake the task?” asked Sterol, his voice still cold.

“How could I defy him?” Cerryl asked. “Also, after the actions of the prefect’s troops, it appeared as though the removal of the prefect might indeed be the will of the Council.”

“The prefect’s removal? You have said nothing of that.”

“That was the task. I was sent to become Sverlik’s assistant and then to assassinate Lyam. That didn’t work because the prefect had already had Sverlik killed.”

“How? He was a strong mage.” Sterol’s brow furrowed.

“I heard a conversation . . . they used iron bolts. Sverlik still killed half the bowmen. That was what the subprefect said.”

“And you let him live?”

“High Wizard,” Cerryl said carefully, “Jeslek told me to do only that with which I was tasked, and my task was to be Sverlik’s assistant, to remove the prefect, and to return to Fairhaven. I could not serve as Sverlik’s assistant because he was dead before I arrived. I sneaked into the palace and killed the prefect with chaos-fire—the overmage was most insistent that I use chaos-fire. Then I sneaked out and rode home.”

“And no one even chased you?”

“They sealed the palace, and they had guards running everywhere, but I climbed over a gate no one was watching closely enough. I did dress as a bravo to ride out of Fenard. I even kept the blade and trousers and cloak I used. They’re in my pack.”

Sterol bobbed his head up and down, and the gray hair glinted in the dull light that came through the window from the cloudy day outside. “You have taken pains to reach me undetected. What if I just removed you?”

“Not totally undetected.” Cerryl swallowed, thinking that the High Wizard would have no compunctions about removing witnesses. “I doubt it would be in your interest to remove me and those few who know. It is clear that I have followed your directions. Others have not. You told me to report to you, and I have.”

Sterol laughed, a braying laugh that ended abruptly.

“He tells the truth,” Myral added.

“I know. That is the most disturbing of all.” Sterol nodded once more. “I think we should call the great Jeslek—after we summon Kinowin and Derka.” Sterol nodded. “It would be best if you both waited here with me.”

Cerryl walked to the window while Sterol rang the bell he carried to the door. A misting rain was beginning to drift across Fairhaven, bringing with it the twinge of an incipient headache for Cerryl.

One of the youngsters from the creche, attired solely in red, appeared and stepped into the High Wizard’s quarters. “Honored ser?”

“Have the overmage Kinowin and the mage Derka attend me here. Immediately. Then return.”

“Yes, High Wizard.” The brown-haired youth bowed, then scurried down the steps.

“Young Cerryl . . . I am curious about a few details.”

“Yes, High Wizard.”

“ ‘Ser’ will do. I doubt that you were particularly well coined for this venture, nor heavily provisioned.”

“No, ser. I had two silvers and some coppers. I stole the cloak from a drunkard in the street at night. Then a pair of brigands attacked me in Fenard. I had to use chaos-fire, but no one saw, and I took their purses, and a blade and some clothes.” Cerryl licked his lips, feeling as though he were treading on the edge of a cliff.

“Wait . . .” Sterol moved to the door and motioned Kinowin into the room. “Continue.”

Kinowin offered a faint smile, an ironic expression, as he saw Cerryl and Myral.

“What I took really wasn’t enough. I haven’t eaten much in the last few days, and the stable boy said the chestnut was thin. He’s all right, but . . .”

“You didn’t ‘forage’ in Certis or Fairhaven?”

“No, ser. Not in Gallos, either, not after I left Fenard.”

Sterol held up his hand and opened the door again.

Derka stepped into the room, his deep-set eyes taking in the others. A knowing nod followed.

“So . . . let me get this straight. Jeslek set you the task of killing the prefect of Gallos. He told you that you had to do this to become a full mage. You distrusted him, but he raised chaos and effectively threatened you with no one around—”

“He didn’t threaten me, ser. He sent everyone else away, and he raised chaos, and I felt threatened—”

“Wise of you,” murmured Kinowin.

Sterol glanced sharply at the tall overmage, then back at Cerryl. “And you rode to Fenard alone—”

“No, ser. He gave me an escort, a half-score of the lancers Klybel didn’t want.”