The White Order (The Saga of Recluce #8)(71)

“No. Merely looking does not leave traces, either. I do encourage all my students to watch and study. But only watch and study, except when I tell you otherwise.”

“Yes, ser.” Cerryl bowed, waiting.

“No other questions?”

“Ser ... outside of what I asked ... I don't know enough to ask more,” Cerryl admitted, knowing he was running a slight risk but feeling it was necessary.

“Ha! I see one reason why Sterol accepted you.” Jeslek turned to the youth who stood by the table, wearing the white tunic with the red-slashed sleeves. “Kesrik, you make sure Cerryl here gets quarters with the other students, a set of the proper tunics and trousers and white boots. His look sturdy; see if you can change them. Just once. And make sure he gets his own copy of Colors in the next eight-day.”

Kesrik bowed, his square face impassive, his blue eyes cold.

“Go with Kesrik.” Jeslek's sun-gold eyes glittered cold.

“Follow me.” Kesrik turned and left. Cerryl found himself scrambling to follow.





White Order





XLVII




Outside the window, the sudden warm rain pelted down on Fairhaven, the first in the handful of days since Cerryl had arrived in the halls of the mages. The rain hissed as it struck sun-warmed stone, and moister air seeped through the louvers of the closed shutters. Inside, Cerryl sat on the edge of the chair across the table from Jeslek, aware of the growing pounding inside his skull, a sensation that had not been there before the storm had fallen across the city.

Jeslek studied Cerryl for a time, and Cerryl had the feeling that the mage used more than his eyes.

Finally, Jeslek gave a crooked smile. “What do you think being a mage is all about?”

“I don't really know what mages do, ser.”

“Tell me what you think we do.”

Cerryl moistened his lips. “Mages rule Fairhaven. They can use chaos powers. They study many things.”

“How do you know we study-” Jeslek laughed and broke off the question. “You were a scrivener's apprentice. I forgot. Well, you'll be studying more than you ever thought possible. And there will be tests along the way. Some you may not even recognize as such.” The white-haired mage with the golden eyes paused. “Why do you think mages study so many things?”

“To rule better?” guessed Cerryl.

“That's a guess, young Cerryl, but it's partly right. We study the better to govern. Governing is not ruling. Governing is more like guiding or counseling. Someone like the Emperor of Hamor, or the Duke of Lydiar or the Viscount of Certis-they rule. The Guild governs. Yes, we make rules, but most of the rules are more of a code of common sense. Waste breeds a sort of scattered chaos that leads to sickness. So we make sure waste stays out of the city. Beggars and other parasites bring sick-ness and theft. We keep them from Fairhaven. If coins alone rule, then the city will fall to those with more coins. For that reason, we check those who think of little but coins. Clean water keeps sickness away, and we make sure the water for the city is clean. There's nothing magical about any of that.” Jeslek smiled brightly-and emptily.

Cerryl waited, not knowing what he could say.

“Every great once in a while, someone sees a mage cast chaos-fire and then everyone thinks that's all a mage does. If that happened to be all the Guild were-a group of wizards throwing fire-Fairhaven would have fallen generations and generations ago.”

“Yes, ser.”

“I know you want to be respectful, but you don't have to say that every time I pause. A polite silence will do.” Jeslek stood. “You need to understand more about what the Guild is and why it is necessary.” The white mage lifted the volume on the table and extended it to Cerryl. The cover was worn and scratched, and infused with the unseen white of chaos. “Read this. You can read?”

“Yes, ser. There are some words I probably don't know.” Cerryl followed his instructor's lead and stood quickly, his eyes still on the white-haired and sun-eyed wizard.

“Ask Kesrik or one of the other students. Ask me if you can't find anyone who does know.”

“Yes, ser.” Cerryl wouldn't have asked Jeslek in any case, and definitely not after that statement.

“You have two eight-days to finish the first half of the manual. But start today, and I'll question you on what you've read at your next lesson.” Jeslek gestured toward the door. “Kesrik is waiting. I will see you tomorrow.”

Cerryl bowed and turned.

As Jeslek had said, Kesrik stood waiting outside by the guard.

“Good day, Kesrik.” Cerryl offered a head bow as he passed.

“It's raining.” Kesrik inclined his head infinitesimally as he stepped by Cerryl and through the door, closing it behind him.

Cerryl paused, wondering again about the strangeness of the Halls of the Mages, where so little was really said, and where his instruction seemed so minimal-where he spent more time waiting for Jeslek than listening or learning. Or had that just been to give him some time to adjust? If so, what was next?

He looked down at the leather-bound volume in his hands, then back at the closed white oak door. Before he headed down to the common, or the library, or his room-he wasn't sure where he should start reading-he opened the cover to the title page-Colors of White: the Manual of the Guild at Fairhaven.