How can it remain calm when more and more people cannot find enough to eat?
“I know you were upset by Myral’s death. Kinowin told me when I saw him early this morning. But you have to do your duty, according to the rules, no matter what you feel. I can’t have mages branding people. What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking, ser. For a moment, I thought of just using the brand to remind him, but I realized that wouldn’t work. So I carried him back here. I should have put him on the refuse crew, I suppose, but I wasn’t thinking. It happened so quickly.”
“No…what you should have done was send him to the south prison for transfer to the road crew. Without branding him.” Isork smiled. “Then, we could have arranged for him to escape on the way to the highway work. We will anyway, but we’ll have to make sure he doesn’t escape until he is well, well away from here, probably into Kyphros.”
Cerryl’s mouth opened.
“That’s the second lesson. We’re not totally unfeeling-but what we do has to look like it is totally unfeeling, totally impartial. The adjustments have to be made in a way that doesn’t appear to compromise the system.”
“Now what do I do?” Cerryl sighed. “I’m sure the word will be out that there is a crazy Patrol mage.”
“We could get around that, in time, after a disciplinary assignment and relocation to another section. What this points out is that you’re too young and too creative,” Isork said, “to stay as a Patrol section mage. You think too much. Sooner or later, the thinking will push you into doing something else. You’ve already made a few decisions that were a bit creative, like putting people on the refuse crew that other mages would have sent to the road crew.” Isork shook his head. “The Patrol doesn’t air its refuse or its laundry in public. You won’t see open disciplinary hearings for Patrol mages-or patrollers. That sort of thing only undermines public trust. It’s simple. Patrol mages and patrollers are fully accountable, and all know they are.”
Thinking about facing the three Council members, Cerryl held in a shiver. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you trouble.” He lifted his hands.
“We’ll make another adjustment. I’ve talked to Kinowin, or I wouldn’t be here. The word is that you have been disciplined, and it will be passed. We will use you to point out to people that even mages do not break the rules. You will report to the High Wizard and the overmages at noon for your disciplinary assignment.”
Cerryl swallowed. Just for not knowing…for showing what you thought was care.
“It’s not because you cared, Cerryl. Most of the Patrol mages care, believe it or not. It’s because you didn’t think of the consequences for others.” Isork added, almost dryly, “If you have to break the rules, don’t do it in public, and make sure it doesn’t have obvious bad public consequences that come back to you or the Guild.”
“It was stupid.”
“Yes, it was. But we all have done stupid things, and most of us survive them and learn from them. I trust you will, too.” Isork offered a consoling smile. “Now…you’d better get moving. The High Wizard is expecting you. I’m taking the rest of your duty.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you…”
“That’s part of being Patrol chief.” After a moment, the muscular older mage added, “That’s part of being in charge of anything. If things go wrong, you’re the one who has to set it right and do what’s necessary. I chose you, and I’d choose you again-except I wouldn’t have let you go back on duty right after Myral’s death, and you would have had time to learn in your heart as well as in your head why the rules have to be maintained.” Isork shrugged. “So…I have to do extra duty because you seemed so good that I didn’t realize that you looked toward Myral as an uncle or other close relative. We don’t let anyone on duty after a consort or brother or a sister dies, or a parent, if patrollers or mages know their parents. It’s because things like this can happen.”
Cerryl looked at the floor.
“It’s always better to avoid problems than to solve them. Remember that, too.” Isork’s tone turned brisk. “Now…on your way. And don’t worry too much. Both Kinowin and I think you’ll be an asset to the Guild. You just need more seasoning. We were too eager because the Patrol is shorthanded. Now…go.”
“Yes, ser.”
“You can leave the door open.”
Cerryl gave what he hoped was a formal nod and left.
He’s almost as upset with himself as with me…because…he didn’t see enough? Despite his own fears, Cerryl wanted to shake his head.
LII
CERRYL STOOD ON the topmost landing of the White Tower, imperceptibly shifting his weight from one foot to the other and trying not to look at the closed white oak door or at the guard.
“You may send in the mage Cerryl.”
Straightening his shoulders, Cerryl walked into the High Wizard’s chambers.
There was one empty chair at the table around which sat the High Wizard and the two overmages. Jeslek gestured to the empty place. Cerryl sat down gingerly. Absently, he realized that the black iron toy windmill had vanished. Because its order warped things too much even for Jeslek?
“We had thought of you to take Myral’s place in monitoring the sewers, for a time,” Jeslek began, “before you attempted to remake the rules for peacekeeping by yourself.”
Cerryl nodded impassively. There was no point in confessing he just hadn’t thought; that was probably considered worse than being too free with the rules. The less he tried to defend his stupidity the better, and he was only beginning to understand the enormity of that stupidity.
“The Patrol is already short of mages,” Kinowin said, “and you do have various talents. The problem facing the Council is how to use those talents without giving the impression of rewarding you for stupidity. Extreme stupidity.”
Cerryl wanted to wince.
“I had thought of assigning you to one of the blockade ships, but ships are even more disciplined than the Patrol, and you would be too free to be…creative there,” added Jeslek.
Blockade ships? Cerryl tried to keep his mouth in place.
Redark merely nodded, as if that were expected of him.
“So you will be assigned to the west gate, for double duty, both duties, for the next two eight-days. That should reduce the time you have to offer creative solutions to problems we do not have. After that, the Council will consider how you might best serve the Guild.” Jeslek’s smile was not particularly cruel but almost dispassionate. “And you will keep a report of every single vehicle that enters and leaves the gates, with its general cargo, and you will not delay any wagon or cart. You will also abide strictly by the rules of gatekeeping. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ser.” Cerryl almost wanted to sigh in relief.
“Also, you will receive no stipend for those two eight-days, and your stipend thereafter will be reduced to the minimum for a full mage.”
“Your golds for this past eight-day, and the minimum you would have received for the next two eight-days, will go to the family of the boy you branded,” Kinowin added. “If they cannot be found, then the coins will be used to purchase bread for the poor and distributed by the patrollers of the southeast section.”
Cerryl almost nodded in agreement.
“Do you find that equitable?” asked Redark.
“Yes, ser.”
“We thought you would,” said Jeslek. “Also, for the next two eight-days you are to remain within the Halls when you are not on duty or going to and from duty.”
“Yes, ser.”
“Finally, you are to write a fully reasoned statement on why exceeding the rules is dangerous to both the Guild and the individual mage, and you will present it to Overmage Kinowin for his review and for his later examination of you,” added Redark. “You have an eight-day to compose the argument. You will present yourself for the examination at his leisure after he has read your argument.”