by Fran Jacobs
Teveriel shook his head emphatically. "No, Candale. I don't want you to do that. Gods, how selfish must you think me? Any time that you need me, I'll do my best to help. I just hope that I never have to help you with this, that's all. It doesn't mean that I won't, but I can hope."
I grinned at him. I was so relieved to hear that. The last thing I would be able to do, just before a fit hit me, was to make sure that Teveriel, and anyone else who might be spooked by it all, were safely out the way. "Thank you," I said.
"Hazel, um, likes you," Teveriel said in response.
"Likes me?" I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Trellany laughed and came around to sit on the couch beside me suddenly making me feel a little trapped. "Likes you, desires you, fancies you, wants you, whatever you wish to call it, that's what we mean."
I felt my face grow hot with a sudden blush. "Don't tease me," I said. "She does not."
"No," Trellany said, "she does. She was always looking at you, even when she wasn't talking to you, or holding your arm. Candale, even a blind man could see that she likes you."
My flush deepened so that it felt as if my face was on fire.
"Do you like her?"
"I just met her!"
"Do you think she's pretty?" Teveriel asked curiously. "That would be a start."
"Stop this now!" I said, getting to my feet. "I'm not going to discuss my feelings for a girl I have known for an hour!"
"So you do have feelings for her?" Trellany asked.
I opened my mouth, but no words would come, my mind was completely blank, so I turned on my heel and stomped off into my bedroom instead, slamming the door on the sound of their laughter that followed me.
Back in my room I felt a sudden twist of nerves, half afraid of seeing that face in the mirror again. But, after perching on the edge of my bed for almost quarter of an hour, just waiting for something to happen, and having nothing happen at all, I finally relaxed enough to take a nap.
I dozed on the patchwork quilt, with those strange carved faces staring down at me, and was woken from a dreamless sleep by the dulcet tones of a ringing bell. My bedroom door was opened a moment later, following a gentle rap on the door.
"Your love is here," Teveriel told me, grinning. "It appears that was the supper bell."
I hurled a pillow at him, which he dodged easily, and stooped to pick up. "Stop it now," I told him. "Please. I'm too tired for any of this."
"Fine," Teveriel said. "You're no fun when you're tired anyway. You just get aggravated. Do you feel up to having some supper?"
"No." I swung my feet over the side of the bed. "But I think that I'd better."
"Are you sure?" Teveriel asked me gently. "I could probably go down to the hall and bring you something?"
"No," I said, shaking my head. "No. I should put in an appearance; it will be easier now than when I walk into class tomorrow. Besides, if I don't eat something now I will just wake up hungry in the middle of the night."
"Well," he said, doubtfully, "if you're sure ..."
Hazel and Silver were both waiting for me in the sitting room. Almost instantly Hazel linked her arm with mine again and Teveriel gave me a look as if to say, 'see?' but I just blanked it.
"Feel any better?" she asked me.
"I had a nap," I said. "So, yes, I feel a lot better, thanks."
"Good," Hazel told me, her brown eyes warm as she smiled. "I'm glad."
The dining hall was filled with students when we got down there, all standing in a line. "We have to queue to be served," Silver told me, although that was fairly evident.
"All right," I said, as we joined the end of it, although it was the last thing that I wanted to do, to have to stand in a line with all these strangers giving me curious looks. Most of them appeared to be children, perhaps ten or eleven years old. There were a few that were older, perhaps Hazel's age, and a few more that were as old as Silver and myself. Out of the long line of gathered people I could only see two or three that looked any older than that and they seemed to be of an age with Trellany. Some of them were well dressed, in rich clothes, and they stood straight and tall, surveying the hall with a sort of cold arrogance. Others were dirty, scruffy, and seemed bored by the whole thing. Groups of girls stood together giggling, and boys stood together looking at the girls. They were such a mixture, from different classes, backgrounds, even cultures, brought together because they shared one rare, special gift. It was strange to realise that most of them were a potential mage, or at least had some sort of gift, because there was nothing out of the ordinary that could have told you that just by looking at them.
"But not you two," Silver continued, turning to Trellany and Teveriel. "Teachers, as you are, eat over there." He pointed towards the table at the head of the room. "Separated from us mere students, you can eat without having to be bothered by our childish chattering."
Trellany's green eyes narrowed as she glanced towards the table where Tival and several others were sitting and then back at me.
"I'll be fine," I told her in a whisper. "We don't want to draw too much attention to me, now do we?"
"I don't like it," she whispered back.
"We all have to do things that we don't like," I told her. Then I turned away, back to Hazel and Silver, dismissing her. I heard her muttering under her breath and then her footsteps as she walked away, taking Teveriel with her.
"She's overprotective," Hazel noted softly.
"I nearly died," I said. "And she takes her duty seriously. I don't think she would forgive herself if anything happened to me, not when she promised my father that she would take care of me."
Hazel just nodded in understanding.
Supper was slithers of chicken, covered in gravy, mashed vegetables and a slice of fruit pie for dessert. It was better than I'd thought it would be and I was certainly hungrier than I'd expected, finishing my meal within minutes, and two small rolls of crusty bread as well.
After supper, and introductions to maybe fifteen boys and girls whose names I promptly forgot, I was finally able to go back to my room, get undressed and climb under the covers of my bed. I fell asleep almost instantly.
I woke before the morning bell and, for a moment, I lay there, enjoying the sensation of lying in warm bed, feeling safe and comfortable, after so many nights on the hard ground in the cold. It was amazing how good it felt. It was something I had really taken for granted and I had to force myself to get up, in the end, and get dressed.
In the sitting room Trellany was already up and washed, sitting by the fire, filing her nails. Her red hair was still damp and loose, and hung around her face in ragged curls. Teveriel was also up, but he wasn't dressed. He was sitting on a chair by the table in his nightshirt, long legs bare and pale, tuning his lute.
"I need a bath," I announced. "I thought it would be nice to get down there early, before anyone else turns up."
"Wait a moment for me to find some clothes," Teveriel said, in a distracted sort of way. "And I'll come with you."
So I waited and Teveriel still didn't move, just went on tuning his lute. I coughed, twice, and then firmly took the lute from his hands.
"Oh." Teveriel laughed. "Sorry. I just wanted to be ready for class and the lute needed some attention."
"We stink," I told him firmly. "I think we need some attention first."
"I agree," Trellany said, not looking up from her nails.
"So ..." I said, jerking my head towards the door of his room.
"Yes. Yes." He uncurled himself from the chair and bounded into his bedroom, returning a moment later, dressed, but with half the laces still undone. Then the three of us set off, through the maze of corridors, towards the bathhouses outside.
There were two bathhouses, one for men and one for women, and while Trellany stood guard outside, we headed in. They were larger and cleaner than I'd expected. It was actually nice to see something clean in White Oaks after all that dust and grime. It felt even nicer to relax in the hot water
, wash my curls and remove the very last traces of dirt and the horse smell from my body. I shook my head, mentally, as I scrubbed. How could Teveriel and Trellany have possibly thought that Hazel fancied me? My hair was greasy, my face badly shaved and the smell of horses and days in the saddle still clung to me, despite the wash with cold water that I'd taken in my room. They had to have been teasing me. They couldn't have been being serious about it.
"Thinking about Hazel?" Teveriel asked.
"Shut up," I said, feeling my face flush, betraying that I'd been thinking exactly that.
"Candale, she likes you. We aren't saying this to be cruel to you, or to tease you. It's actually true. She does like you. It's rather sweet."
"No, she doesn't," I replied stubbornly. "For Drakan's sake, when we met yesterday I was dirty and smelly. She couldn't have found me the slightest bit attractive. She was probably just feeling sorry for me, because of the addiction she thinks I have."
"You really have no idea about anything, do you?" Teveriel asked gently. "Candale, to begin with, you're not an ugly boy. Not by any means, even with travel-dirt clinging to you. Secondly, a girl doesn't just link arms with any boy she happens to meet, even if she does feel sorry for them. And if you remember, she did that before Trellany told her the story about you being addicted." He shrugged. "She likes you, Candale. Whether you choose to do anything about it or not is up to you, but she does." He slipped down in the hot water with a deep, contented sigh. "We're here for just a few months," he said. "Not long enough for anything serious and as long as she's aware of that, then I don't see why you can't just let things happen naturally."
"Because it would be a lie," I told him. "Because she doesn't know who I really am and I couldn't lead her on like that."
"So you do like her," Teveriel said, and there was an odd look in his eyes.
"I don't know, Tev," I told him honestly. "I don't really know her and it doesn't matter. I have more than enough to think about without worrying about this as well." I reached for a towel and got slowly from the water. "I'm going to dry off and go back to the room, before anyone else comes in here to join us." Teveriel waved his hand at me and closed his eyes. "I'll take that to mean that you are staying," I said. "I'll see you later, then."
"Yes," he murmured. "Later."
The wake-up bell rang as Trellany and I were crossing the courtyard to go back to our rooms. Back in the safety of the suite, I was able to watch the students hurrying across the frozen courtyard towards the bathhouse, giggling and talking loudly. I sat in the chair by the window and just watched them, glad to have gotten out of the bathhouse before they all started to arrive. I didn't think I could have handled the noise. In fact, as it turned out, neither could Teveriel. Not long after I saw the groups of people heading towards the bathhouses, Teveriel returned. He didn't say anything about why he had returned so abruptly, but it was clear from the annoyed way that he threw himself into a chair, and went back to retuning his lute, that it hadn't really been his choice.
Hazel met us outside the door to take us down to the hall for breakfast, and afterwards she led me to our first class, her arm linked with mine.
The fifty or so students at White Oaks were split into three classes. Those who couldn't read or write, those with basic literacy, and those who were more advanced, that was, noble students, or those who had been at the school for years and were well educated because of it, in another. I was with Hazel in the most advanced classes, surrounded by young lords and ladies and the older students, Silver, and Willow, too, of course.
I hadn't really thought about what the classes would be like. I'd had a good education so far in my life, as befits a prince, but I hadn't expected it to have been quite as good as it turned out to be. The teachers of White Oaks had nothing new to tell me and I quickly found myself bored listening to subjects I'd not only studied a good few years earlier, but that I also knew backwards. That, when added to the fact that I was desperate to get to the library, left me feeling bored, impatient and very frustrated.
I fidgeted a lot during my classes, shifting in my seat, drumming my fingers, staring out the dirty windows at the grounds outside, and sketching pictures on my parchment, of flowers, my classmates and, of course, the inevitable, dragons. Sometimes I would turn and catch Hazel looking at me and we would exchange smiles, or rolls of our eyes to signify our boredom, and then I would turn back to my drawing. And still the teachers would drone on, unaware that half of the class simply wasn't listening.
When class was over for the morning, we headed up to the dining hall, joining the end of the really long queue. I stood in line for what felt like an hour, tapping my foot, fiddling with my clothes, doing anything I could think of to do that was short of yelling at everyone to just hurry up, growing more and more impatient with every second that passed.
But, finally, I was sitting down with my lunch before me and time was my own again.
I ate as quickly as I could, short of choking to death. I barely gave myself time to enjoy it and certainly not much time to breathe, or to answer any of the questions my fellow classmates had for me. I probably appeared very rude to them, but I didn't care, I was desperate to get to the library.
When my plate was clean, I was free to leave, only I had to wait for Trellany. It felt like another lifetime before she and Teveriel joined me and we were finally making our way to the library.
"How was your day?" Teveriel asked me, as we walked.
"Boring," I replied. "And yours?"
"Frustrating," he said. "I had one class of idiots to teach, who didn't seem to know the difference between a lyre and a harp. I have another one in two days."
"I'm fairly convinced that you can manage such a hectic schedule," Trellany said.
"I hope so," he said, with a grin.
By now we had reached the library door and I had butterflies in my stomach and was starting to feel a little sick.
"Are you ready?" Trellany asked me. I nodded. "Good." And she pushed open the library door and let me slide in.
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Chapter Sixteen
CALRAN
An elderly man was waiting in the library for us, sitting at a desk. The library was completely deserted except for him and, when we came in, he gave me a very low bow. "Prince Candale," he said. "It's an honour."
"Calran?" I whispered questioningly.
"Who else?" Teveriel whispered into my ear. "Look at him, Dale."
I looked at Teveriel with puzzlement and then back at Calran. He was an old man, with long white hair and beard and dark green eyes. His face was wizened, heavy with wrinkles, but he had a warm, youthful smile. He was wearing breeches and a long tunic, dark in colour, and a little dusty. I had never seen anyone wear dusty clothing before; why hadn't he shaken it off before putting it on? Or had he just worn the same thing for days on end? There were also ink stains on his fingers and a smudge on his chin, but I didn't understand what had Teveriel so amused.
"In songs and stories," Teveriel explained, almost sighing, "the mage or the scholar usually looks like this. Old, bearded and covered in dust."
I frowned, as I looked at Calran, but Teveriel was right. In song and stories, which featured a mage or a scholar or a prophet, those characters were always described as looking like this, bearded and wizened, wise and gentle, and somewhat untidy.
"Do you think," Trellany whispered, "he dressed himself to look like this in the hope he would be in a song one day? Or, was he inspired by songs?"
"Inspired," Teveriel whispered back. "He has to look the part, or how else will we take him seriously? I think he did it just for Prince Candale's benefit. I bet, when we aren't around, he is a fastidious, organised fop type of man, much like my good self. That ink spot looks a little too well-placed, don't you think?" He laughed and to my surprise, so did Trellany.
And Calran just looked at us with that warm, questioning look in his eyes. I felt a flush of embarrassment that jokes were being m
ade at his expense, even if he couldn't hear them, which I really hoped that he couldn't.
I moved away from my friends, leaving them lingering back towards the door, as I walked towards Calran and took his hand in mine. "I'm really hoping," I told him, "that you can help me."
"I will do my best, Prince Candale," Calran said, a faint flush of colour staining his cheeks. "Your grandfather explained everything to me, about what you've been told, about what you fear."
His green eyes looked me over slowly, analysing me in a way that made me nervous and I found myself shifting my weight from one foot to the other. He'd been told everything? That meant he must know that Mayrila was my mother and not Silnia. I wondered what he thought about that, but, more importantly, it was reassuring to me to know that my grandfather trusted him that much, because I knew it would be safe to ask him any question that I needed to.
"And you do look so much like the boy in the Rose Prophecies." He shook his head sadly and turned away. "Come, I've prepared my study for you, and set out the book, so that you can get started."
"Thank you."
Calran led us through into the second library chamber and towards the back where a hidden door led into a very small room. It looked as though it had once been a closet of some sort that Calran had claimed for himself and converted. There was only just enough space for the over-soft armchair and the table that was in there. On the table, close to a lantern, was a green leather-bound book with gilt edges and a rather cracked spine. A gold rose was embossed on the soft leather cover.