[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
man, but I must admit that I felt, on occasion, that his sense of dedication
to the House and the Guild bordered on the fanatical, even above the love he
felt for his charges. Please forgive me my odious words."
Thorn disguised a deep sigh of relief as a smothered sob. Crohn, I mourn the
passing of these two fine souls as much as you, and I see that I, too, may
have been a little too wedded to my duty.
"I wish you to succeed Urel as Senior Magemaster, Crohn, and I trust you to
put me back on the right track whenever you deem it necessary. My first order
to you as Principal of the Scholasticate is to ensure that all Magemasters act
within the dictates of their good sense and humanity. Perhaps I have been
Page 60
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
working them too hard."
"Lord Thorn, I will arrange a ceremony for our two lost friends. May I trust
that you will be there?"
Thorn nodded, maintaining his pose of deep sorrow. He had to fight to keep a
smile from his face; he knew he had succeeded in his pose, and that Crohn
would lay the majority of the blame for this debacle on the dead Urel, as he
had hoped.
* * * *
Madar and Argand were sitting with Grimm in the charity Students area of the
Refectory, and the three boys were deep in discussion about the recent
tragedy, despite the fact that such chit-chat had been forbidden by Crohn.
Since there were no Magemasters present, they felt at liberty to gossip,
although they kept their voices low.
"An accident, eh? Argand said. Who'd have thought that Erek was a Neophyte
Alchemist? I'd have thought he would've been better as an Herbalist or
something."
Grimm nodded. I always thought all those potions and things must be
dangerous. Poor old Urel."
"Poor old Erek, too, Madar said with feeling. He hurt so bad at what he did
to Urel that he topped himself."
A snort came from another table, and the boys turned to see an older Student
of about twelve or thirteen. I've seen it once before, he confided, his eyes
flicking back and forth as if expecting the presence of a Magemaster. The
whole Refectory was trashed just before you came, same blue light, the lot.
Then, old Arrol comes out with that new mage, Dalquist. A right state, they
were in."
Grimm was puzzled. But Dalquist isn't an Alchemist, he's a Questor, he said,
wrinkling his brow in perplexity.
"That's what I say, the older boy said. It's all very odd. You stick around
here, you hear all sorts of funny things. I'm not even sure old Erek was any
kind of Alchemist I think that's just a story they've cooked up. He shrugged
and turned back to his meal.
With no further information on the incident, the heated discussion petered
out. Oh well, at least old Kargan isn't quite so hard on us these days,
Madar observed with a bright smile.
"That won't last, Madar, you'll see, was Argand's gloomy response. They're
just toying with us; it's the lull before the storm. This whole thing reeks
with suspicion, if you ask me."
"You think everything's suspicious, Argand, Grimm said. Remember when Kargan
had that fever and stayed in bed, and you told us all he'd been carted off to
the mad-house?"
"That was different, Argand grumbled. If he wasn't, he should have been!"
The conversation drifted into wild speculations about all aspects of
Scholasticate life, but the boys steered clear of the deaths of Erek and Urel.
* * * *
Back in his cell that night, Grimm mused over what little he had seen of the
incident. He knew Urel would never have hurt Erek, and nor would Erek have
dreamed of raising a hand to Urel. His mind kept going back to the screaming
and shouting Erek, and the strange, incomprehensible language that issued from
his lips just before the explosion; he could not get the sounds out of his
head. When sleep finally found him, his dreams were disturbing.
Chapter 17: Progression
« ^ »
After two years in the Scholasticate, Grimm had proved to be an apt student,
quickly mastering the complexities of the seven families of runes, learning
how to write, pronounce and inflect them in various circumstances.
Despite his shy nature, he felt his confidence growing stronger by the day.
Now, even some of the more snobbish Students treated him with a measure of
Page 61
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
respect or, at least forbearance.
However, such tolerance was far from universal. On one occasion, the bully,
Shumal Tolarin, deliberately tripped him outside the Refectory, sending Grimm
sprawling to the floor, winded and with a bloodied nose.
"Ooh, so sorry! Shumal said with a smirk on his face, as if daring the
smaller boy to try something, but Grimm was too busy trying to get his breath
back even to speak.
Grimm said nothing about this, even to Madar and Argand. Instead, he bided his
time until he came upon Shumal in a dark corridor without his sly acolyte,
Ruvin.
While Shumal had his back turned, Grimm leapt on the bully, slammed him into
the wall, punched him in the nose and threw him to the floor.
Shumal was larger than Grimm and not the kind of boy to take such an affront
lying down. Lurching to his feet, he gave easily as good as he got. By the
time they stepped apart, their chests heaving, both boys were marked, Grimm
somewhat more so than Shumal.
However, Shumal's splendid silk robes were torn and scuffed, whilst Grimm's
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]