Colors of Chaos

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Authors: L. E. Modesitt
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Epic
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trust?”
    “You’re wise there. I would not trust any other than Myral, and he is old and fading.”
    “You worry about him, don’t you?”
    “He’s like an uncle of sorts… the only one I could talk to about the things a healer feels.”
    “You understand trade and your father, and you love him, but he doesn’t really understand you?”
    “He tries, but… no.”
    They turned west a long block below the Market Square , and Cerryl could see the lamps blazing in the windows of Layel’s house.
    “Will you let me know when you return? Do you know how long?”
    “I will. I don’t think it should be more than two eight-days. That’s if it’s the flux.”
    They both understood. If she could not help the boy heal, another two weeks of flux might well kill the child.
    Leyladin turned at the door, taking Cerryl’s hands, leaning forward, and brushing her cheek with her lips. “I enjoyed tonight.”
    “So did I.”
    He waited until the heavy door closed before he turned and began to walk back to the Halls of the Mages.
     
     
    IX
     
    Cerryl stood beside one of the pillars at the rear and to the left side of the Council Chamber. He looked across the expanse of white tunics and robes, though the robes were generally preferred by older mages, such as Esaak and Myral. Each of the circular pillars that flanked the sides of the Council Chamber was of white granite, fluted, and flawless, except for flecks of gold. From the top of each pillar were draped red hangings, swagged from one pillar to the next. The base of each pillar was a cube of a shimmering gold stone. Polished white marble tiles, filled with golden swirls, comprised the chamber floor. Gold oak desks and their accompanying gold oak chairs flanked the center aisle. Despite the summer heat that baked Fairhaven outside the Halls of the Mages, the chamber remained comfortable.
    The High Wizard Sterol stood on the golden-shot marble dais at the eastern end of the chamber, and flanking him were the two overmages-Jeslek and Kinowin-the High Council, except that the three were always called the Council from what Cerryl could determine.
    Sterol was speaking. “… Since last we assembled, many of our concerns have proved to be justified… particularly about the predatory nature of those plying trade from the Black Isle…
    “Therefore, we are recommending to the Dukes of Lydiar and Hydlen, to the Council of Sligo, the Viscount of Certis, and the prefect of Gallos that they impose an additional surtax of 20 percent on goods arriving in ships bearing the flag of Hamor or the dark isle.”
    “Your pardon, High Wizard,” puffed Esaak, rising from a desk in the second row. “How will that improve the revenues for the Guild?” Sterol gestured toward his left. “Overmage Kinowin can better explain that.”
    “This surtax is not the best answer,” admitted Kinowin, standing at the end of the first row. “At the moment, it is the only means we have to address the problem. As all of you know, highways are costlier to build and repair than the oceans and a few ports. What has been happening more and more is that importers in Candar, especially the Sligan and Spidlarian Councils, have been taking advantage of our roads and traders. The Black Isle and occasionally Hamorian merchants have been shipping goods to ports in Candar close to our roads. They sell these goods more cheaply because they do not bear the delivery costs in full. The Guild has almost eliminated brigands in eastern Candar, at least those who prey on the highways. At times, it costs less to ship wool from Land’s End on Recluce to Lydiar than to carry it by wagon from Montgren. So… any good that must be grown, produced, or collected away from the highways…”
    “Wait… you were just saying that our highways were being used against us, and now-”
    “Patience, Broka… patience,” said Kinowin tiredly. “Trade is complex. Let me explain. Those who buy goods are those who have coins. Those who

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