Colors of Chaos by L. E. Modesitt Read Free Book Online

stepped into Kinowin’s quarters and shut the door behind him. Faltar was always so cheerful. Was that why he appealed to so many people? He certainly didn’t have as much ability to handle chaos stuff as did either Lyasa or Cerryl, but all had been made full mages at the same time. Then, reflected Cerryl, it had taken Faltar four years. The slender mage leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.
    Thud!
    Cerryl opened his eyes in time to see a red-haired apprentice mage, thin-faced and female, hurrying away from Kinowin’s door. He sat up for a moment, but Faltar didn’t appear, and he leaned back. Darkness, he was tired.
    “Cerryl?”
    Cerryl struggled awake. Gate-guard duty didn’t help his sleep, and he hated to think what it might be like in summer when the days were longer. “I’m here. I think.” He sat up on the bench and rubbed his eyes.
    “Kinowin’s already left. You were sleeping. I’ve been to the Meal Hall and back. They’re having creamed lamb. Again.” Faltar’s lips curled. “I thought you might like to go out for dinner with me.”
    “I know how you like the lamb.” Cerryl grinned, but his grin faded. “Do you ever eat in the Halls?”
    “Not often.”
    “I don’t see how you can eat in the city every night,” Cerryl pointed out. “I can’t.”
    “But you can,” Faltar countered. “We get a gold every eight-day. That’s ten silvers-or a hundred coppers. Most meals-except at Furenk’s-cost five coppers or less. So you still have more than six silvers left over every eight-day, even if you ate away from the Halls every night.” The blond mage smiled. “I’m not saying every night. Just tonight. Besides, what’s coin for?”
    Books, clothing, silk smallclothes to keep him warm on guard duty-Cerryl could think of quite a few things. Even a warm woolen blanket for the cold nights. Or a present for Leyladin. Still, he’d been careful, and he had nearly ten golds in his private strongbox. Faltar was right. Paying for a dinner out of the Halls now and again couldn’t hurt. Leyladin was off on a trip to Hydolar-Duke Berofar was ailing and had requested a healer from Fairhaven. “Tonight-that sounds good.”
    “Let’s try The Golden Ram. It’s not far, and I’m starving.”
    “So am I.” Cerryl stood and stretched, then followed Faltar out of the tower and past the guards and the messenger in red. Outside, the wind was gusting, almost warm, as they turned right leaving the front Hall and walked south along the Avenue past the White Tower .
    “Spring is here,” Faltar said pleasantly.
    “Let us hope it remains this time.”
    The Golden Ram was less than a half-kay from the Wizards’ Square. How many times had Cerryl walked past the inn on his way to and from his sewer cleaning duties? He probably couldn’t have counted them. They stepped past the green signboard with the image of the golden ram and in through the left side of the double doors.
    “Two of you?” asked the man in the faded blue vest standing by a small counter.
    “Two, Veron,” Faltar confirmed.
    “The corner table.” Veron gestured.
    “I take it you come here often.” Cerryl glanced around the long room as Faltar wended his way through the crowded room. In the other corner Cerryl caught sight of Eliasar and Kinowin, but neither acknowledged the younger mages, as they were apparently caught up in their own conversation. The public room contained all sorts of people, from young traders to lancer officers and even several couples.
    “Ah… feels good to sit down.” Faltar stretched circumspectly.
    The serving girl, also wearing a blue vest, appeared at Faltar’s elbow. “What’ll you gents be having?”
    “What’s good?” asked the blond mage, looking at her, then at Cerryl.
    “It all is, ser. I’d try the cutlets. They run three. A touch chewy, but tasty. Either the good ale or a red wine. Fresh barrel.”
    “I’ll have the cutlets, with the good ale,” Faltar said. “The cutlets,