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sounds of insects rose above the whisper of the wind at his back, a wind that
carried the scents of damp autumn earth and molding grasses, and the chill of
the winter yet to come.
CI
Cerryl glanced at the still~steaming heights ahead-the hills that Jeslek had
raised into mountains. He patted the chestnut on the neck and glanced along
the empty Great White Highway.
After more than five long days, he was back on the Great Highway, and back
in the whites of a student mage. He hadn t changed out of his  bravo disguise
until he d finally been on the Great White Highway for more than a day, but he
kept the darker cloak strapped on top of his pack-just in case he ran into
some Gallosian armsmen.
The clouds that moved slowly out of the northeast were thickening, and
darkening. He looked up, judging that rain would not fall until midafternoon,
and hoping it would not be heavy.
His hands still hadn t healed totally, and his headache, while it had
faded, had not disappeared, and a rainstorm would just make that worse. His
thighs threatened to cramp, but hadn t, perhaps because he was getting more
used to riding. His neck was stiff-probably from looking over his shoulder to
see who might be pursuing him.
Better think some about what s ahead&
His stomach growled, reminding him that he needed to stop and eat
something, not that he had all that much to eat. He d spent most of the
remaining coins on travel food at a small town just short of the Great
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Highway-hoping that the hard cheese and road biscuits would last until he
returned to Fairhaven.
On the road to Tellura, he d encountered some travelers, but the highway
had been vacant, totally vacant. Was that because traders loyal to Fairhaven
couldn t sell their goods at a low enough price to compete in Gallos? And
because the disloyal ones hadn t paid road tariffs and feared using the roads
after Jeslek s destruction of the Gallosian lancers? Or did they fear the
prefect s wrath?
Cerryl held the reins loosely-very loosely. His hands remained tender,
especially across the palms, where he d gripped the gate bars tightly.
Touching iron didn t usually burn him. Was that because he d been using
chaos energies? Would that bar him from Leyladin? He winced at that thought.
Something else you really don t know& He sighed. There was so much he didn t
know, and he wondered if he would ever learn all that he needed.
His eyes went to the empty road ahead, stretching like a white ribbon into
the ugly darkness raised by Jeslek.
Some things just didn t seem to make sense. How had he been able to kill
Lyam so easily? Why hadn t anyone even looked for him? The sometime wavering
of the light shield was a giveaway. If anyone knew what it meant&
He nodded. Was that why the Guild sought out all those with chaos or order
talent? To keep the rest of Candar from knowing exactly what the white mages
could do? Or had the secrecy just happened and been discovered to be
beneficial?
About the only thing most people knew was that mages could use the screeing
glasses to see things and that they could throw chaos-fire- and that black
mages could sometimes heal.
Cerryl laughed. Now they knew that mages could raise mountains. But that
was so rare and improbable that in generations to come no one would remember.
Cerryl couldn t imagine that the world produced many Jesleks, or very often.
Again& the rules of the Guild made sense, although he didn t have to like
the way some, like Jeslek, used them to their personal advantage.
Could you do better?
Cerryl laughed at the thought. He d like to try, but the chances of an
orphaned scrivener s apprentice becoming an overmage, or especially High
Wizard, weren t exactly overwhelming.
The chestnut whuffed, and Cerryl patted his neck again.  We ll stop for
water before long. You can have the last of the grain.
The gelding didn t look that thin, but Cerryl wondered. He d managed to
stop where there had been some lush grass, but he doubted that grazing was
enough, and he d not been able to afford as much grain as he d have liked.
He d tried not to push the pace, letting the gelding carry him easily, knowing
that he didn t really know enough about horses, either.
He held in a sigh, then took a deep breath.
Jeslek had wanted him to fail. Why? Had Myral been right? That Cerryl was a
threat? But Cerryl didn t really want to be High Wizard. He just wanted people
to stop trying to get rid of him or push him around, is that so much to ask?
For some people, apparently it was.
Cerryl frowned. What had saved him was what Jeslek had not known-like
Cerryl s awareness of the light shield or his own mastery of targeted fire
lances. Jeslek was far more powerful& but he didn t know everything. Knowledge
was a form of power. Not the only kind of power, as witness the mountains that
the overmage had raised, but the kind of power Cerryl could master. Would have
to master-for many reasons, one of them who wore green and whose green eyes
danced in his thoughts and memories.
CII
 Good day. Cerryl waved to the merchant on the wagon seat as he eased the
chestnut around the big wagon drawn by a four-horse team.
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 Good day to you, young ser. The gray-bearded and trim man in green who
held the reins in his right hand nodded pleasantly.  You think it be raining
afore long?
The guard beside the merchant smiled.
Cerryl glanced at the clouds overhead, dark gray, and tried to gain a sense
of the weather. He could feel the churning chaos and the black order bands
within the gray, so low were the heavy clouds.  Not right now, but not too
long.
 Darkness& hoped we could make it farther.
Cerryl glanced back at the covered wagon.  What have you there?
 Mostly carpets, but some hangings-good pieces out of Sarronnyn. Hard to
come by these days. Lot easier before the prefect and those traders in Spidlar
decided they knew better than all of Candar. The trader spat to the side,
behind Cerryl.  Fairhaven your home? You headed back?
Cerryl slowed his mount slightly out of politeness, pacing the wagon.
 Yes. Fairhaven was his home, more than any place, despite Jeslek, and the
overmage s struggles with Sterol. Fairhaven was where Myral was, and Lyasa,
Faltar, and Heralt, and, especially, Leyladin, all the family he really had,
now that his aunt Nail and uncle Syodor were dead-for reasons he still didn t
understand. Except you want Leyladin to be more than just a relative&
 Fairhaven s home.
 Musta been an eight-day back, maybe not quite, saw a bunch of lancers and
mages headed back. One of the lancers said they d beaten a big Gallosian
force. You think that was true?
 It was true. Cerryl smiled.  I was there. I had to do something else
before I returned.
 Might teach that prefect not to be so self-mighty. The gray-bearded [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]