that Jeslek can bring to bear upon all who would oppose him. Thus, I must think as best I can before I act.”
Anya touched his shoulder. “Just keep thinking, Cerryl, and there will always be a place in the Guild for you.” She flashed her brilliantly insincere smile, touched his shoulder again, warmly, and ducked away.
Cerryl wanted to wipe his forehead but didn’t. The implication of Anya’s remarks was certainly clear enough. He had thought that his life would get easier once he was a full mage, but he was beginning to have doubts about that, especially with all the undercurrents within the Guild.
And then to find out that Kinowin was far older than Jeslek-perhaps nearly so old as Myral? That was hard to believe, but Myral’s words had held the feel and ring of truth, and that worried Cerryl.
XV
As Cerryl crossed the courtyard in the early afternoon, his eyes went to the blonde-haired figure in green in the shadows behind the fountain.
“Leyladin!” He hurried over to her. “When did you get back?”
“Late last night.” Her smile warmed him. “I slept for a while. I knew you were on duty early. Myral said you’d be here sometime after midday.”
“I have to report to Kinowin for the first few days on summer duty. That’s where I was. Tomorrow will be the last day of that.”
“Have you seen him? Today?”
Cerryl grinned. “Just left his quarters.”
“Could I entice you into something to eat at the house?” The green eyes danced.
“You could.” You could entice me into more than that… “I haven’t eaten much today.”
“I’m ravenous. Let’s go.” Her eyebrows arched. “Don’t expect me to be enticing in that way.” A playful smile followed.
Even as Cerryl flushed, he wondered if his thoughts had been that obvious.
They walked past the fountain and its cooling spray and through the entry foyer of the front Hall and out onto the Avenue, turning north. As they passed the square, Cerryl glanced westward where white clouds were beginning to pile into the sky. “We might have some rain this afternoon.”
“It rained almost every afternoon in Lydiar. There was mold everywhere.” Leyladin shuddered. “It’s a dirty place.”
“Compared to Fairhaven, everywhere I’ve been is dirty.”
A city patrol appeared ahead on the eastern side of the square, three guards in lancerlike uniforms, followed by a mage Cerryl didn’t know, escorting a man in chains along a side street away from the Avenue.
“You don’t see that very often,” Leyladin said.
“The patrols? No. That’s only the second or third time I’ve seen them since I’ve been in Fairhaven.”
“Sometimes you forget there are patrols.”
“Well… they do supply the prisoners who clean up the stable at the gate and the ashes if we have to destroy a wagon or cart.”
“They do? I didn’t know that.”
Cerryl glanced sideways at her, but Leyladin seemed perfectly sincere. “You’ve lived here all your life.”
“People here know the rules.”
The White mage reflected. For the most part, people did know the rules and abided by them. They put their refuse in the rubbish wagons, their chamber pots in the sewage catches, and there were no brawls or fights in the streets. There were seldom any brigands, and no beggars or homeless urchins-not that he’d seen. He frowned. “What happens to the really poor people?”
“Most of them live on the southwest side of Fairhaven.”
“I meant the ones without homes.” In his almost five years in the city, Cerryl had been so busy he’d never really thought about the homeless. In the mine and farm country where he’d grown up people and children worked or died, and he’d never had the time to really explore Fairhaven.
“The Patrol sends them out of the city. If they come back, they go on the road crew, except for infants or small children. They go to the other creche. When they get older, they get apprenticed somewhere.” Leyladin made a vague
Anya touched his shoulder. “Just keep thinking, Cerryl, and there will always be a place in the Guild for you.” She flashed her brilliantly insincere smile, touched his shoulder again, warmly, and ducked away.
Cerryl wanted to wipe his forehead but didn’t. The implication of Anya’s remarks was certainly clear enough. He had thought that his life would get easier once he was a full mage, but he was beginning to have doubts about that, especially with all the undercurrents within the Guild.
And then to find out that Kinowin was far older than Jeslek-perhaps nearly so old as Myral? That was hard to believe, but Myral’s words had held the feel and ring of truth, and that worried Cerryl.
XV
As Cerryl crossed the courtyard in the early afternoon, his eyes went to the blonde-haired figure in green in the shadows behind the fountain.
“Leyladin!” He hurried over to her. “When did you get back?”
“Late last night.” Her smile warmed him. “I slept for a while. I knew you were on duty early. Myral said you’d be here sometime after midday.”
“I have to report to Kinowin for the first few days on summer duty. That’s where I was. Tomorrow will be the last day of that.”
“Have you seen him? Today?”
Cerryl grinned. “Just left his quarters.”
“Could I entice you into something to eat at the house?” The green eyes danced.
“You could.” You could entice me into more than that… “I haven’t eaten much today.”
“I’m ravenous. Let’s go.” Her eyebrows arched. “Don’t expect me to be enticing in that way.” A playful smile followed.
Even as Cerryl flushed, he wondered if his thoughts had been that obvious.
They walked past the fountain and its cooling spray and through the entry foyer of the front Hall and out onto the Avenue, turning north. As they passed the square, Cerryl glanced westward where white clouds were beginning to pile into the sky. “We might have some rain this afternoon.”
“It rained almost every afternoon in Lydiar. There was mold everywhere.” Leyladin shuddered. “It’s a dirty place.”
“Compared to Fairhaven, everywhere I’ve been is dirty.”
A city patrol appeared ahead on the eastern side of the square, three guards in lancerlike uniforms, followed by a mage Cerryl didn’t know, escorting a man in chains along a side street away from the Avenue.
“You don’t see that very often,” Leyladin said.
“The patrols? No. That’s only the second or third time I’ve seen them since I’ve been in Fairhaven.”
“Sometimes you forget there are patrols.”
“Well… they do supply the prisoners who clean up the stable at the gate and the ashes if we have to destroy a wagon or cart.”
“They do? I didn’t know that.”
Cerryl glanced sideways at her, but Leyladin seemed perfectly sincere. “You’ve lived here all your life.”
“People here know the rules.”
The White mage reflected. For the most part, people did know the rules and abided by them. They put their refuse in the rubbish wagons, their chamber pots in the sewage catches, and there were no brawls or fights in the streets. There were seldom any brigands, and no beggars or homeless urchins-not that he’d seen. He frowned. “What happens to the really poor people?”
“Most of them live on the southwest side of Fairhaven.”
“I meant the ones without homes.” In his almost five years in the city, Cerryl had been so busy he’d never really thought about the homeless. In the mine and farm country where he’d grown up people and children worked or died, and he’d never had the time to really explore Fairhaven.
“The Patrol sends them out of the city. If they come back, they go on the road crew, except for infants or small children. They go to the other creche. When they get older, they get apprenticed somewhere.” Leyladin made a vague
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