He crossed the courtyard to the last Hall, the one with the smallest rooms, and went up the steps to his own quarters, nearly all the way to the back. Once inside his room, he took a deep breath and extracted Colors of White from the bookcase. He had most of the day. Perhaps he could find some ideas there.
Perhaps…
VIII
CERRYL WALKED PAST the fountain in the courtyard between the main Hall and the rear Hall. His feet ached, and his head throbbed-the former because he’d walked across the guardhouse ramparts too much during the day and the latter because he’d practiced using the light/invisibility cloak too much. Kinowin had been perfunctory in his questions, as though the overmage’s mind had been elsewhere, and Cerryl hadn’t mentioned his aches, knowing that Kinowin wouldn’t have been terribly sympathetic.
Despite the deep dusk, the courtyard was hot, and the fountain spray across Cerryl’s face felt welcome.
“Hello there.”
He looked up to see blonde hair and a green short-sleeved shirt and armless tunic of darker green-and another mage. Lyasa and Leyladin stood in a corner, also enjoying the cool of the fountain court. Cerryl turned and joined them, the immediacy of his various aches subsiding. “When did you get back?”
“I’ve been here all along.” Lyasa grinned.
“This afternoon, a little past midday.” Leyladin offered a warm smile. “I came in the southwest gate.”
“Leyladin, Cerryl,” Lyasa interjected, “I need to go. Anya has requested my presence for supper.”
Cerryl winced.
“Her preferences don’t run that way,” said Lyasa lightly, “but it will be interesting to see what she wants.”
“Be careful.” Cerryl worried about anything involving Anya.
“I always have to be careful. That’s the everyday rule for women…and Blacks.” Lyasa nodded to Leyladin. “I hope we can talk before-”
“Tomorrow morning?”
“I can do that. It’s my last free morning before I take over duty on the west gate.” Lyasa grimaced.
“You’re going on gate duty?” asked Cerryl.
“Don’t all new mages? Kinowin was just waiting for Elsinot to finish a reasonable tour.”
“Elsinot?” Another mage Cerryl didn’t know, at least by name.
“Blocky, brown-haired-he seems nice enough. He’ll take the relief duties now. You’re lucky. You’ll probably get morning duty in the summer.”
Cerryl wasn’t sure if that would be luck, to get up even earlier than he was now.
“I do have to go. I’d rather not give the esteemed Anya an excuse to be upset.” Lyasa gave a half-wave as she stepped away from the pair.
“Have you eaten yet?” Cerryl studied the dancing green eyes, sparkling even in the gloom of the courtyard, and the wide mouth he thought of as kind. “We could go over to The Golden Ram.”
“How about Furenk’s?”
“Ah…all right.”
“I have some silvers. That way you won’t have to go back to your quarters. I’m hungry. Lyasa and I got to talking…and then it was dark.”
“Your father’s not expecting you?”
“No. He’s in Vergren, and I told Meridis not to fix anything tonight.” Leyladin smiled. “I was afraid she’d fix so much that I wouldn’t be able to walk. She does that when I’ve been away.” She turned toward the archway that led to the front Hall that fronted on the Wizards’ Square.
Cerryl stepped up beside her. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too. It was interesting, but”-the blonde shrugged-“it’s good to be back.” A faint frown crossed her face and vanished.
The Avenue was dark as they crossed the square and headed east.
“You don’t sound happy about it.”
“I’m happy to be back. I wish Father had been here, but he had to go…something about problems with the lambing in Montgren.”
“I thought he was a trader.”
“He is, but the lambs born this year will affect wool in the years ahead. Also the price of grain and cattle…many things…”
Cerryl held back a sigh. Did the entire world revolve around coins and trade? The more he learned, the more it seemed as though it did. “How long will he be gone?”
“Soaris told me he left yesterday. That means an eight-day before he’s back.”
No signboard proclaimed Furenk’s. Letters carved in a marble plaque beside the door to the two-story pink granite edifice stated: “The Inn at Fairhaven.”
The two climbed the two wide pink marble steps and stepped inside. Cerryl glanced around, but before he could determine even where to go, a tall functionary in a pale blue cotton shirt and a dark blue vest appeared. “This way, Lady Leyladin, and you, ser.” The man in blue turned and led the way to a table for two in the back dining room. He seated Leyladin.
Cerryl sat down across from her. The back dining room was empty, except for them.
“It’s early,” Leyladin said quietly.
“They obviously know you.” Cerryl glanced around the room, which held only ten tables. Unlike the front room, where the polished tables were bare, all the tables in the rear dining area bore pale blue linen and full sets of cutlery. The rear dining area emphasized that Furenk’s was the most expensive inn in Fairhaven, where all the wealthy factors stayed, and where Cerryl had dined once-with Faltar, for a dinner that had cost him three silvers, with a single goblet of wine and no real extras. That had been a dinner in the front room-not that Cerryl had even known about the rear dining area. A lighted small polished bronze lamp rested in the middle of each table, the ten the only illumination, giving the room a low and discreet illumination.
“This is the only inn in Fairhaven that Father will frequent. So…we’re known here.”
“Lady Leyladin.” Cerryl wondered why the title bothered him.
“You make that sound so cold.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Lady…ser?” A thin older woman-also in the dark blue trousers and vest with the pale blue shirt-stood beside the table. “This evening, we have the special chicken breast or the tender beef over Furenk’s pasta.”
“The chicken,” said Leyladin.
“I’ll have that, too.”
“And the good red wine,” added the healer.
“The same.” Cerryl didn’t know what else to say.
The serving woman inclined her head and stepped away.
“What did Lyasa mean when she said she hoped you could talk before?” he asked after a moment of silence. “Before what?”
“Oh, Cerryl.”
“Before what?”
“Before I leave for Lydiar.”
“You just got back from Hydolar,” Cerryl said, almost peevishly.
“I probably shouldn’t have left there as soon as I did, but Gorsuch said it was clear that the Duke was much better.”
“Gorsuch? Is he the mage there?”
“He’s the mage and the Council’s representative. He promised to summon me if things changed. Now I know why he and the High Wizard wanted me back in Fairhaven.” Leyladin spread her hands, almost helplessly. “Sterol has requested that I attend Duke Estalin’s only son. The boy is weak and ill from the bloody flux and does not seem to be improving.”
“Why you?”
“I’m young and strong, devoted to Myral, and attracted to you. My father relies on the roads.”
“What does all that about you-”
“Those are all reasons why I can be trusted to go to the seaport nearest to Recluce. Good healers are scarce enough in Candar.”
“People leave…I suppose.” Cerryl still wasn’t sure why people would leave Fairhaven. The city was orderly, clean. Life was good so long as you obeyed the rules, but any land had rules. “I wish you weren’t going.”
“So do I.”
Two fluted crystal goblets appeared on the table. “Here you be. Two of the good red. That’ll be six.”