by Guy Antibes
Jock laughed to himself as he turned and left Ricky alone with his task.
The boy kneeled down and began his work. Some of the weeds came out easily, and others required the long chisel-like tool to dig down to get the roots. The gloves got in his way, so he put them in an apron pocket. Soon, his hands began to get chafed from the plants and his fingernails hurt from the dirt jammed beneath them. He would do a good job. He had to show that he could perform his task well, without complaint, so he wouldn’t get sent to Applia.
The task began to feel tedious, so Ricky did what Jock suggested. He didn’t know any tunes. Gobble used to get very angry if Ricky ever tried to sing a song that he heard from his few young acquaintances in Shantyboat Town. He did know how to hum.
As he began, he tried to mimic a song that one of his friends used to sing. The humming resonated within him and made him feel better. As he continued, Ricky concentrated on pulling the weeds and wiggling the roots out without disturbing the bushes. The lower bare branches occasionally poked into Ricky’s arms, despite the long sleeve shirt he wore.
He just hummed louder until he felt energized. Ricky wished the weeds wouldn’t take so much effort to remove. He touched them, and they vibrated, so that they came right out, leaving the soil flat and crumbly. How did that happen? He continued to pull out plants until his energy began to dissipate, and the plants no longer came out easily.
Could it be the humming? He hummed again. It didn’t take as long to become energized, and the plants came out again. Ricky grinned as he hummed. He crawled through the line of plants and tossed the weeds alongside the bushes. It didn’t matter if the weeds were large or small, he just plucked the plants from the ground as if he were plucking ripe plums from a tree.
In less than an hour, he had made it all around the field. He stood up and looked at the line of weeds. There were fewer weeds on the other side and soon he had finished. Ricky began to lean over to gather what he removed into his basket. He didn’t know how many basketfuls his efforts produced, but he felt the blood drain from his head. His forehead felt cold, yet perspiration began to trickle down his forehead. Ricky’s vision began to blur, and the next thing he knew, Saganet was shaking him awake.
Ricky opened his eyes and looked up at a white ceiling. The room smelled odd.
“Where am I?”
“The academy infirmary,” Saganet said. “You overdid yourself. You certainly impressed Jock. He didn’t think anyone could remove those weeds in less than two days, and it took you only a couple of hours before he found you. What possessed you to work so hard that you fainted?”
“I guess I’m not used to that kind of a task.” Ricky wondered if whatever energy he tapped into with this humming had wrung him out. “I feel better. Can we eat lunch?”
Saganet looked outside. “Dinner. You missed your midday meal. The academy nurse said that you were exhausted and that you needed rest. I’ve already taught my classes for today.” Saganet pursed his lips. “Maybe a tour of the grounds and a light dinner in the commissary will be just the thing you need. Servants aren’t generally allowed, but since you are with me, it will be okay.”
Ricky had never eaten at a sit-down restaurant before, so he guessed he was in for a treat. He rose from the bed and felt a little light-headed, but after a few steps, it went away. Ricky wondered if he should say something to Saganet, but perhaps he imagined the magic. After a moment, he realized that he hadn’t. The feeling was too much like his shout that stopped time. His guardian didn’t know about that, so he’d keep it a secret between Miss Doubli and him for now.
“I haven’t eaten at a place where the food is served,” Ricky said.
“You haven’t? You are thirteen, fourteen years old?”
“Fourteen in three months. No, I haven’t. My grandfather never wanted me to get out much. I never had nice enough clothes or the money to go. I’ve eaten from stands, and I’ve bought snacks from Karian Grandari.”
“Karian is a good man, and it is a good sign that you like each other. He is a better judge of character than I am,” Saganet said.
“I’m glad you think so. Karian is someone I look up to, not my grandfather.”
Saganet opened the door of the infirmary and paused to admire the grounds in the late summer sun. “You will help preserve this look,” he said. “Jock and his boys keep the academy looking like a Lord’s manor.”
Ricky pressed his lips together. “I’ve never seen a Lord’s manor to know what one looks like.”
Saganet gently bit his tongue and looked out at the buildings. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to say the right things around you. I’m afraid someone else would make a better guardian.”
The man looked even more awkward than Ricky felt. His words were encouraging rather than discouraging. His grandfather, Gobble, would say something biting, sarcastic, or disparaging to Ricky, or in some cases, resort to violence. Ricky didn’t want a return to that.
“We’ll learn if we both try,” Ricky said. He reached up and patted Saganet on the shoulder. “I’m willing if you are. I have something to tell you over dinner, if you’re ready to share a secret.”
“A secret, eh?” Saganet said. The man couldn’t help reveal a smile. “I might like that. We all have secrets, don’t we? Let me explain how the buildings are arranged on the academy grounds. Most buildings are arranged around a central court. A building on each side makes the court a quadrangle. There are eight quadrangles at the academy.”
Ricky nodded and followed after his guardian as he continued to drone on about the classrooms and dormitories.
~
The commissary took nearly the full ground floor of one of the academy buildings. Ricky followed behind Saganet, reluctant to show off his servant’s clothes. Even though the tables were less than half-occupied, plates clattered, and conversations buzzed through the air.
Students still filled through an archway and returned with a tray of food. Some walked by both of them, nodding to Saganet and rudely staring at Ricky.
“It’s all right. Most of the students have already eaten. I’ll take you to the faculty room.” Saganet led the way through a pair of swinging doors into a carpeted dining area.
Adults sat at the tables. The floor covering muffled the sounds as well as thick drapes lining the windows and tapestries arrayed along one side of the room. Even the conversations were muted.
“We won’t make a habit of this. I generally cook my own meals, and I’ll teach you to help. At least you’ll be able to wash up.”
“I know how to cook,” Ricky said. “My grandfather hardly brought any food home, so I mostly had to make my own meals.”
“I’d like to hear more of that once we’ve ordered. Faculty gets servers who are students on scholarship, much like you.”
Ricky watched as the servers, both boys and girls, walked purposefully around the tables. He thought that gardening might be a bit less obvious, but then he looked at his own clothes. His knees were caked with dirt, but someone had washed his hands and face at the infirmary.
Saganet found an empty table at a window. A decorative screen, covered with tapestry panels, enhanced their privacy.
“So what kind of cooking do you do?” Saganet said once they sat down.
“Stews, mostly. I once had a neighbor show me what vegetables and herbs grew in the forest north of Shantyboat Town. Not many of the residents scour the forest for food. I think they prefer to get their food already cooked, made at a stall.”
“Cooking is a risk on a shantyboat, I’ve heard.”
Ricky nodded and smiled that Saganet knew a bit about how he lived. “It is.” He looked at his guardian and took a deep breath. “My first secret is that I have my own boat. A lot of the cabin burned down and it was used as a bridge for a while, but then someone moved it to the northwest end of the town and left it. I repaired the cabin and took it over for my own.”
“Won’t some other person take it from you?”
Ricky shook hi
s head. “If anyone secures their boat, it’s theirs. You let neighbors know it is your shantyboat and if anyone takes it over, neighbors will not be kind to the thief. I moved my little shantyboat to a small gathering, called a cluster. I learned how to tie a few good knots from the Water Seller, and it’s mine. It’s small, and it doesn’t have good furniture, but I can cook when I want to. I generally make the meals in Gobble’s boat, or he’ll beat me if he happens to show up at mealtime.”
Saganet looked sympatheticly at Ricky. “You won’t have to worry about being beaten for that, but instructors are able to correct students with a little physical force. It’s part of the academy’s discipline.”
He paused as a girl took their order. Their server looked about sixteen or so with a blotched complexion and chopped up scraggly hair. Ricky watched her walk to the kitchens.
“What happened to her?” he said.
Saganet turned to watch her disappear through more of the swinging doors. “She’s a sorcerer. Some spellmaking is very dangerous. She created some flames that got too close.” He shrugged. “You’ll get used to students looking odd. We have healers at the infirmary that take care of most of the problems. She burned her skin, and a sorcerous healer saved it. That’s why it is mottled. Hair…” Saganet shrugged his shoulders again.
Ricky leaned over and whispered. “I didn’t pass out from overwork today,” he said. “I hummed a tune and made the weeds really easy to pull out. Maybe that’s why I passed out.”
His guardian’s eyebrows shot up. “You have sorcerous abilities?”
Ricky nodded. “Only Mistress Doubli and you know. I never thought of myself as a sorcerer, just that I had a trick that I used for stealing. I suppose I figured out another spell for pulling weeds.”
“What is the stealing trick?”
Ricky looked around to see if anyone else listened. “I can speed things up. To me, it seems that I am stopping time, but Mistress Doubli said I moved so fast that everything else stopped.”
Saganet leaned back in his chair. “Don’t people notice your singing first?”
Ricky shook his head. “I shout. I don’t think anyone can hear it.”
“A shout? That’s a Level Four spell. Who taught you?”
“No one,” Ricky said.
Saganet looked at the girl server clearing up a table across the room. “You shouldn’t do any spells until you learn more about your talent. We’ve had students kill themselves at the academy.”
Ricky swallowed hard. “You have?”
His guardian nodded. “Songs and spells have a lot of nuances.”
“What is nuance?” Ricky said.
“The smallest mistakes may lead to unintended consequences. You have to apply the right power at the proper time,” Saganet said. “That girl didn’t.” He looked over at the server coming their way with their dinner.
“Are you a sorcerer?”
Saganet shook his head. “Not me. My family doesn’t have the talent. We serve Paranty in different ways.”
“Your service in the army?”
“Army and eventually in the Royal Guard, until my leg finally became a liability.”
“Is that a secret?”
His guardian grinned and shook his head. He sat up straighter when the server presented them with their food and drink. Saganet nodded and smiled at the girl. She smiled back but looked down her nose at Ricky. He figured she thought he was beneath her, and Ricky had to agree. She was probably right.
Ricky watched the girl’s back and focused on her chopped hair. He wondered what might have happened to him on the playing field. Now Ricky knew that too much magic could drain him of energy. His shouts were momentary things, and he always used them sparingly, but he never knew he might be in any kind of danger.
He looked down at his dinner of meat, gravy, potatoes, and peas in some kind of a buttery sauce. He smiled at the smells.
“Eat up, and I’ll tell you one of my secrets.”
Ricky put his head down and began to shovel the food into his mouth.
“Slow down,” Saganet said. “No one will take your dinner away.”
“My grandfather would. If I didn’t get it eaten, he would finish eating it all by himself. We didn’t always have food for a day.”
“No worries about that. Don’t eat too fast. I’ll tell you my secret. One of the professors is my daughter.”
“Why is that a secret?” Ricky said.
“No one knows it. My daughter made me promise not to tell anyone.”
“Will I know her?”
Saganet nodded. “I’ll tell you when you take one of her classes. All I’ll say is that she doesn’t teach sorcery.”
“How could she? You said no one in your family has magic.”
His guardian grinned. “You are a smart lad. I think you’ll do well here.”
“If I’m careful about the way I use my magic.”
“If you use it to weed, don’t do a whole field.”
“I won’t,” Ricky said. “Jock told me to hum a tune to make the time pass quicker, so I won’t hum again.”
“Jock told you that?”
Ricky nodded.
“I’ll have a word with him. I’ll have to tell him you have some talent and that caused your fainting. I won’t tell him more than that. He should know you can overextend your singing.”
“I didn’t sing.”
“You don’t understand. Any sustained sound can build up your power. You have to learn how to generate just enough power for a specific spell. The sound also can determine what happens. You’re just lucky you didn’t blow yourself up.”
Ricky nodded, but he didn’t agree with Saganet. He knew he could direct what that energy did, but he didn’t understand how he did it.
~~~
Chapter Five
~
“I never had any idea there were two thousand students at the academy. They all have to live here?” Ricky said as Saganet and he walked through the eight quadrangles that made up Doubli Academy.
“Not all. Some live away from the academy if they have relatives in Tossa, but they must spend their days here from the first class to the last. Our gates are always locked in the mornings. If students do not arrive, they risk being expelled.”
“Do any really get expelled?” Ricky couldn’t conceive of anyone making such a mistake.
“Yes, but there are rules to be followed, and one rule broken doesn’t mean expulsion. Every year there are a handful of students who are requested to leave the academy.”
Ricky looked around the last quadrangle. “You said some professors live in the same dormitories as the students?”
“Not with the students, but in rooms in the same building. There are student captains who are responsible for most of the students’ actions. The faculty is there to provide their wisdom.” Saganet said the word ‘wisdom’ in a way that indicated he didn’t agree with the concept or that it didn’t work. Perhaps he held both points of view.
“Why do you have a cottage?”
Saganet smiled. “I am a special case, just like you. I am old friends with Merry. I made the cottage a condition of my employment by the Doubli Academy.”
“But now you have a student in your midst.”
“As I said, you are a particular case, Hendrico Valian.”
Saganet pulled out a key and inserted it in a door in a large building by the practice field. He threw the door open and urged Ricky inside.
“One of my classrooms. It’s called the gymnasium. It’s where my students practice if the weather doesn’t permit working outside.”
His guardian lit a torch of some kind that enabled him to light other torches in the walls. The lights were unlike anything Ricky has seen before. The flames were a bluish white and didn’t waver like a flame.
“The sorcery classes make these,” Saganet said, smiling.
Glints of the lights sparkled in the room. Glints from many polished weapons reflected the torchlight as tiny points of lig
ht.
“You are proficient in all these weapons?”
Saganet shook his head. “No, but I am very good with a few of them. I teach the sword, the knife, the staff, the bow, and the ax. If a student wishes to learn other weapon disciplines, there are others in Tossa that the academy will hire as tutors.”
Ricky stood by a barrel filled with swords.
“Take one,” Saganet said.
Ricky took a hilt and lifted it from the barrel. No light reflected from the blade.
“It’s made out of wood.”
“Hardwood. That sword can still break bones. It’s what most students use at the academy. Only advanced students will train with steel weapons.”
Ricky tried to swing the weapon around. “It’s still heavy.”
“Close to the weight of a real sword. As students progress, they get swords that are heavier. That one has an iron rod in the middle.”
How could he ever learn to wield such a blade? Ricky thought. The weight of the blade would throw off any attempt to be accurate with a swing.
“Use this,” Saganet said, pulling a shorter sword from a different barrel.
“Oh,” Ricky said. “I’d do better with this one.”
“And that would break after a few encounters with a real sword. You will begin with such a weapon. As you get older and stronger, you will wield different weights. If you take to the sword, you might hold one made out of steel. Even sorcerers have to know how to use a blade.”
“But they can use their magic,” Ricky said.
“Not in the country of Paranty. The King forbids sorcery to be used as a weapon except by battle sorcerers in his armies.”
Ricky had to think about that. He always fantasized about knights with their swords. Sorcerers threw flames and made the ground shake, and they were invariably portrayed as evil men.
“Battle sorcerers are always bad people in the books. Is that why?”
Saganet laughed. “They are no different from any other soldiers in the King’s army. And they aren’t only men, but women are battle sorcerers, too. It’s just that there are so few. Sorcerers do not have to fight for the King, and the really experienced ones would rather perform than fight any day. It’s safer, and their careers last a lot longer.”