Modesitt, L.E. - The Saga of Recluce 08 - The White Order by Modesitt L.E

Author:Modesitt, L.E.
Language: eng
Format: epub

Preface

LVII

A woman in green crossed the hall and started toward the courtyard and the front building as Cerryl stepped out of the library workroom with his map in hand-a woman in green with red-blonde hair...a young woman.

Cerryl looked for a moment, just looked. Could it be the girl from his glass? She was definitely a woman now.

He glanced toward the steps to Jeslek's quarters, then in the direction she had gone, pursing his lips. After a moment, he turned toward the courtyard. Even with that momentary delay, by the time he passed the fountain and reached the end of the foyer of the front building, she had turned and was headed up the steps to the tower.

Cerryl walked more quickly, holding the map high so that he wouldn't trip or drag it along the polished stones. He dodged around Lyasa, who gave him a questioning look, and offered a harried look that he hoped would cover his action.

Lyasa raised both eyebrows but said nothing.

By the time Cerryl reached the pair of guards at the base of the tower, breathing slightly harder than he would have liked, the young woman in green had vanished. No sound of feet echoed down the steps to the higher levels, either.

He looked at the guard standing on the right. "Hertyl... the woman who just went up the steps ... do you know her?"

"Young ser, it be not my business to know any like her."

Cerryl caught the twinkle in the young guard's eye and grinned. "Nor I... but you might know her name."

"I've heard that it be Leyladin. She is a merchant's daughter, but some say she also be a healer." Hertyl nodded toward the steps. "I do not ask where she visits."

Cerryl paused.

The older guard cleared his throat.

Cerryl understood the signal. "Thank you." He looked at the map he held and then at the guards, nodding to both. "Best I be going. Good day."

"Good day to you, young ser."

Cerryl walked quickly, if slightly more deliberately, back toward Jeslek's

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quarters.

The red-blonde hair-it could be no one else. But what was she doing in the Halls of the Mages? Just a healer? Or something else? His thoughts went back to Benthann's comments-sex? Was she the mistress or consort-to-be of a white mage? Of one of the older mages?

His fingers curled until his hands were almost fists, and he took a slow and silent deep breath, trying to relax. He had no claim on her. He didn't even know her, and she certainly didn't even know he existed. Why was he reacting so violently?

Besides, Jeslek had asked to see the map, and he dared not hasten, not after chasing the woman-Leyladin, not woman-practically to the white tower. Another test? Had Jeslek sent her past him?

He shivered but left the front foyer hall and started across the courtyard.

"Why were you in such a hurry?" Lyasa stood by the fountain, clearly waiting for him. Her olive brown eyes pinned him.

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