Colors of Chaos Read Online Free PDF Page B

apprentice scrivener.”
    “Now that’s something I don’t know much about.” Layel laughed. “Books, you can’t buy ‘em cheap. So I don’t. Means I don’t sell them, either. Don’t have time to read them.” He lifted his goblet. “To friends, daughters, and companions.”
    Cerryl followed their example but took only the smallest sip of the wine. Even with that sip, with the hint of bubbliness and the lemon-nut freshness, he could feel that it was far stronger than anything he’d ever tasted and far, far better.
    “Ah… better than I remembered,” said Layel.
    “It is good.” Leyladin lifted the porcelain platter that held the still-steaming dark bread and offered it to her father. Layel broke off a chunk, and the blonde offered the platter to Cerryl.
    Cerryl took a chunk of the warm bread and glanced toward the older factor.
    Layel smiled, as if waiting for Cerryl to speak.
    “All of this… it’s different from the Halls,” Cerryl said slowly. “We don’t see that much outside… I haven’t anyway, even before I came to Fairhaven.” He paused. “There’s so much I’ve read about, but… Leyladin has told me you’re a trader, and I don’t know much about trading. What do you trade in?”
    “Anything that sells, young mage. Anything that sells. You trade in grain, and if the harvest is bad, you lose everything. You trade in copper, and when someone opens or closes a mine, you lose. I trade in what I can buy cheap and sell dear.” Layel refilled the crystal goblet before him and then Leyladin’s. He glanced at Cerryl’s goblet, still three-quarters full. “You haven’t drunk much.”
    “With me, a little wine goes a long way, but it’s very good. Very good.”
    “Father is not telling you everything. He hoards goods,” Leyladin interjected with a smile, passing the pitcher with the orange glaze in it. “He buys them cheaply this season and sells them dearly the next. He has two large warehouses here and one in Lydiar.”
    “You’ll be giving away all my secrets, Daughter.”
    “Just the two of you here?” Cerryl asked.
    “Now. My brother Wertel has a house in Lydiar. He runs the business for Father there, and my sisters live with their consorts here in Fairhaven. I’m the youngest.” Leyladin grinned. “And the most trouble.”
    “How could you say that, Daughter?” Layel shook his head in mock discouragement. “Trouble? You never brought in every stray dog in Fairhaven to heal it? You never had your head nearly split open because you would heal the fractious carriage horse? You never-”
    “Father…”
    “No… you couldn’t find a nice fellow and give me grandchildren.” The factor turned to Cerryl. “She had to become a healer. She was trying to heal everything-the dogs, the warehouse cat that got kicked by the mule, the watchman’s daughter…”
    Leyladin’s face clouded ever so slightly at the last, but the expression passed so quickly Cerryl wasn’t sure he’d seen it.
    “Healers are far more scarce than White mages,” Cerryl said brightly, taking a small mouthful of the beans and nuts with the fork that felt unfamiliar, copying Leyladin’s usage. They were so tender he barely had to chew them, and they hadn’t been cooked into mush in a stew pot.
    “Would that it were like trade, where what is scarce is dear,” mumbled Layel.
    “Father… finish eating…” Leyladin grinned.
    “Always on me, you and your mother. Best to enjoy good food.”
    “Talking with his mouth full is about his only bad habit,” Leyladin said.
    “And you’ve never let me forget it.” Layel turned to Cerryl. “She’ll find any of your ill ways and try to heal you of them. Fair warning I’m providing.”
    “Father…” Leyladin blushed.
    “Turning the glass is fair for both.”
    Cerryl took another sip of the wine, amazed at how good it tasted, uncertain of what he should say.
    Layel glanced at Cerryl. “I’ve embarrassed my daughter enough. She may know how you