A Sorcerer Rises

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A Sorcerer Rises Page 20

by Guy Antibes

~~~

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ~

  “S aganet gave me an idea. I shouldn’t be the only one choosing,” Ricky said, looking across the table at Professor Calasay and Betti. “There is a question of affinity, and it goes both ways. Do either of you even like me?”

  The two women both blushed.

  “Well, you are only fourteen,” Betti said.

  Professor Calasay traced the grain in the wood in front of her without looking up.

  “How much magic does the other sorcerer need? There is a someone that does like me—Mistress Doubli. She’s been like a mother to me, as much as she’s been able. Can she receive my thoughts?”

  “I don’t really know,” Professor Calasay looked up. Ricky could see the relief in her eyes. “But it’s worth finding out. I’ll go get her.”

  Betti didn’t even attempt any small talk while they waited for Professor Calasay to return with the Dean.

  “Dari said you had something important to tell me,” Mistress Doubli said, sitting next to Ricky.

  It was up to him to bring Mistress Doubli up to speed on their progress.

  “So you need to find a partner. Can’t you talk to the Mansali girl and ask her?” She looked at Ricky and shook her head. “No, I suppose not.” She looked over at the two women sitting on the opposite side of the table. “No affinity?”

  “Not enough for me,” Betti said.

  Mistress Doubli pursed her lips and thought. “You aren’t serious, Dari?”

  Professor Calasay folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. “It was Ricky’s idea.”

  Mistress Doubli pressed a hand to her neck. “Surely, you don’t mean me.”

  “Affinity, and the ability to do sorcery,” Ricky said. “We aren’t romantically linked, but we are emotionally.”

  “Well,” Mistress Doubli fiddled with the lace on her dress. “Emotionally, yes.” She put her hand on Ricky’s. “Emotionally, certainly.” She gave him a bright smile.

  “You’ve never shown me how much potential you have, Merry,” Professor Calasay said.

  “Uh, you don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Why not? If you can’t generate enough power or enough will, how can Ricky succeed?”

  “Power and will have never been the issue. I, uh, I become overwrought with stage fright,” a blushing Mistress Doubli said.

  “Hah!” Betti said. “The truth comes out. I thought you had too much feeling for performance sorcery than any weak sorcerer I have ever known.”

  “Surprising,” Professor Calasay said. “Well, there is no stage to be frightened of here, Merry. This is important work. Please consider becoming part of our team.”

  Mistress Doubli looked trapped, but then she put her head right down on the table. “I’ll do it,” she said without looking up. “We keep it between the four of us as long as we can. If everyone commits to that, I will join you.” She raised her head and re-arranged the loose ends of her hair. She looked at Ricky and touched his face. “I do feel responsible for you and enjoy that responsibility,” she said.

  Ricky could only smile, overcome with the range of emotions in the room. He thought he could maintain his status as a leader of the project, but he felt so young at that moment. He took a deep breath and turned to Betti.

  “Could you go over the plan with Mistress Doubli? I think I’ve had enough for today.”

  The women all giggled as Ricky stood and left the room. He could handle one or two of the women by himself, but together, he couldn’t help but feel intimidated by all three women. He had to escape.

  Ricky headed over to the gymnasium and stopped as he heard voices around the next corner.

  “You didn’t show me your answers.” Ricky heard the voice of an angry Victor Taranta.

  “The professor was monitoring us too closely. We would have been caught,” Franken Pestella said.

  “What use are you if I can’t pass some of my courses? My father will…”

  Ricky couldn’t hear what Victor said next. He must have whispered in Frank’s ear. He heard some thuds. Victor and maybe his friends were probably pummeling Frank. Ricky turned the corner to watch Frank curled into a ball while Victor and two associates were kicking his old friend.

  “Stop that!” Ricky said.

  Victor turned and sneered. “And who are you to stop it?”

  “A friend.” Ricky looked down at Frank peeking through the arms wrapped around his head.

  Victor strutted to Ricky. “I said who is going to stop it?”

  Ricky gave him his answer with a hard kick in Victor’s groin. He balled his fist and glared at Victor’s friends, who seeing their protector writhing on the ground, backed away.

  They ran after Ricky advanced on them. Victor still moaned along with Frank. Ricky bent down to help Frank up. “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

  Frank looked up at Ricky with pleading eyes. “Leave me here. Lord Taranta’s men will visit our business again if you help me,” Frank said.

  “What?”

  “You heard him,” Victor said, through clenched teeth. “Next time my father’s men will kill you if I don’t get you first.”

  “All the attacks were at your instigation?” Ricky said.

  “Of course. Who else would want to attack a guttersnipe like you?” Victor stopped when another wave of pain hit him.

  “Then you can help each other to the infirmary.” Ricky gave Victor another kick and then stalked off to the gymnasium, on the lookout for Victor’s friends.

  When he reached the gym, he exercised while Saganet worked with the other students.

  “You seem to be working a little harder this afternoon,” Saganet said during a rest break.

  Ricky nodded. “There have been some revelations after lunch.”

  Saganet rubbed his hands. “A breakthrough?”

  “Mistress Doubli is a better sorcerer than she let on. I’ll be trying to do joint resonance with her since we actually like each other. Like I told you, there has to be an affinity.”

  “She sees you as a beloved nephew. Will that be enough?”

  Ricky shrugged. “Betti and Professor Calasay looked very relieved that they wouldn’t have to work so closely with me, so it will have to do.”

  “I always knew Merry had quite a bit of magic. I think she was afraid of performing more than anything else. That’s why she could be so adept at producing.” Saganet chuckled. Obviously, he enjoyed the fact that his insight had been proven right. “What other revelations did you have today?”

  Ricky was embarrassed, and that brought on a smile. “I am intimidated when all three women, Betti, Professor Calasay and Mistress Doubli are in the same room, chattering away. I feel like they are making fun of me.”

  Saganet laughed. “Don’t feel bad about that. Even grown men pale in the presence of three or more ladies when the conversation turns in certain directions. Is that it?”

  Ricky shook his head. “Victor Taranta’s father is behind the attacks on me.”

  “I hope you are right. I’ve been doing some thinking, and I’d hate for you to be the target of a multitude of enemies. Taranta makes the most sense if young Victor still harbors ill feelings towards you.”

  “He does, especially now,” Ricky said. “He is forcing Frank to sit by him during examinations so he can copy the answers. Frank couldn’t give him the answers in one of his classes because of a vigilant professor. Victor and his friends beat him up.”

  “And you were there?”

  Ricky nodded. “I stopped them by kicking Victor in the groin. I wanted to help Frank to the infirmary, but he refused and said that Victor’s father would attack his family.”

  Saganet’s expression darkened. “I don’t care how influential Taranta is. I know Merry won’t put up with that. We’ll head over to the Administration Building as soon as I’m done with this class.”

  Ricky attacked his exercises with a vengeance after Saganet left him to return to his class. They would
have to find a way to stop the attacks.

  ~

  “Victor Taranta assaulted Franken Pestella?” Mistress Doubli said. “I find it unacceptable, the beating and the cheating. I’ll call them into my office. Victor has been warned before.”

  “And his father has threatened you before, right?” Saganet said.

  She nodded. “I capitulated, but for cheating.”

  “You would have to expel Frank and Victor?” Ricky said.

  “I would.” Mistress Doubli looked pensively out the window. “Franken won’t admit to the cheating, will he?”

  Saganet shook his head grimly. “Now you are thinking like a dean, Merry. If you let me, I will make Taranta wish he hadn’t intervened in his son’s affairs.”

  “And how will you do that, Saggy? You’ve been assaulted three times.”

  “On my own against a group. I intend on going on the offensive if Ricky is willing to act as a decoy. I’m sure we can give more than we get. We did the last time, but they may now use arms,” Saganet said.

  “Higher stakes, but they will continue to escalate if nothing is done. What do you think?” Mistress Doubli looked at Ricky.

  “I’ve been lucky so far,” Ricky said, “but if I make a mistake, it might be my last.”

  Mistress Doubli put her hand to her mouth. “That serious. I’ll have the infirmary ready. But what about Victor?”

  “That is where Ricky makes it positive that he’ll be attacked. Victor is going to get more beaten up.” Saganet said. “I’d like your permission for Ricky to carry a weapon on the academy grounds.”

  “What kind of weapon? I can’t have hot-headed students walking around with swords on their hips.”

  “Just a boot knife. I personally know at least ten students who do so right now.”

  Mistress Doubli shook her head and waved her hand. “Don’t tell me who. I don’t want to know.”

  “Good, because I wouldn’t tell you. There haven’t been any knifings as long as I’ve been here. Victor is the first I’ve known to actually hire someone to do his fighting.”

  “Very well,” Mistress Doubli said, pursing her lips. She pulled out a sheet of paper, scrawled the permission slips, took a stamp, and put the academy’s seal on the document. She looked at Ricky. “Do you know how to use a knife?”

  Ricky glanced at Saganet and then at Mistress Doubli. “I know the basics.”

  “And he’ll know more by the end of the week,” Saganet said.

  ~

  After a full evening at the gymnasium, Ricky collapsed on the cottage’s couch.

  “Off,” Saganet said. “Wash the sweat off and change into fresh clothes. We don’t want to ruin the furniture.”

  Ricky rose to the kitchen sink and looked back to see an equally sweaty Saganet, closing his eyes, stretched out where Ricky had just tried to rest. He washed up anyway and fixed a cold meal of bread and cheese and poured wine for Saganet and some water for himself.

  Saganet lifted an eye after Ricky had laid out their simple, late meal. “Ah. I suppose you want to lie on the couch now.”

  “It’s still wet from you!” Ricky said, shaking his head. He managed half a grin. “Come on, I want an evaluation now that we’ve been working out for ten days straight.”

  “We’ll make a trade for information. You tell me what you’ve been doing with the ladies first.”

  Ricky sliced a lump of cheese off and put it on a chunk of bread. He popped it in his mouth before talking. “We’ve been spending the whole time working on resonances. There are only three out of hundreds that have worked. Professor Calasay says we should have ten or twenty.”

  “How could there be hundreds of notes?” Saganet said.

  Ricky shook his head. “There aren’t, but the trick is finding a resonance, that’s the power you generate from a sound that is in sync. The resonance isn’t going to be the same notes made the same way, but the power that is generated within must be the same. I might hit one note humming, and Merry might have to sing a different note.”

  “It’s Merry, now? When did you start calling the Dean that?”

  “Professor Calasay told me I could call her Dari away from students. They are tired of Professor this and Mistress that when I just call Betti, Betti. They let me know a few days ago. Sometimes I think they are beginning to treat me like a pet dog.”

  “Who sings or whines or whimpers to get what you want?” Saganet said, smirking.

  “Whatever. I’m surprised they’ve been supportive of my project.”

  “Dari will document what you’ve done, so it will be her project as well. Documenting what you’ve done is how they do things at the Royal University,” Saganet said. “Keep at it. Research can be tedious until you find what you seek.”

  Ricky drained his cup of water. “Have you done research?”

  Saganet nodded. “I do research all the time, but it’s not academic.”

  “You gather information, right?”

  “I haven’t had any time for that lately. I guess it’s time to give you my assessment. You are better with a staff or a short sword. Your body hasn’t begun to give you a man’s strength. Your technique is more than acceptable. All your moves are precise, but you will need to make sure your knife is sharp until you pick up more strength to slice through layers of clothing. That’s why I’ve trained you to make thrusts for most of your ending moves. It’s easier to penetrate a suit of clothes with the point of a knife.”

  “Can I defend myself against an attacker?”

  “One on one, knife to knife, you can hold your own because you are fast enough to stay out of your opponent’s way. If you venture outside the academy, you will need more protection, and the Compact prohibits you from using magic in a fight. I have something for you.”

  Saganet walked into his bedroom and brought out a box. “Open it.”

  Ricky lifted the top. “Chainmail? I didn’t think people wore that anymore.”

  Saganet smiled. “Not at all,” he said. There is a thin leather tunic that needs to be worn between the chain mail coat and your skin. If someone punched you, the chain mail would make tiny cuts in your flesh. If you don’t have the leather tunic, then two layers of linen, at the least.”

  Ricky put the chainmail over his shirt. “It fits well.”

  “It should. The shirt is adjustable with the ties in the back and front. It cost Merry a pretty penny to have it made.”

  “Do you wear one?”

  “I have in the past, and I think I will be doing so again. You are certain to be walking into danger. Tomorrow we will train wearing chain mail shirts.”

  ~

  The day was warm, promising the hotter weather of summer. Ricky was making his way between arithmetic and geology when something hit his back, knocking the breath out of him.

  Victor stood behind him holding a stick that had a curved flat end. He sneered and pulled back for another strike. His two friends stood behind with ugly smirks on their faces.

  “So is that a broomball stick?” Ricky asked.

  Victor paused, looking surprised by the question. “It is, and I’m going to sweep you out of the academy.”

  Ricky leaned over, his back shouting with pain and pulled out his knife. “I may cut off a few splinters, or a few fingers,” he said as evenly as he could.

  Victor’s two henchmen didn’t have the look of confidence they had had before Ricky flashed the knife. Ricky jumped back as Victor gave another swing, missing.

  A crowd of students began to gather, muttering something about weapons, but Ricky didn’t listen. He concentrated on Victor’s movements, which were, to Ricky’s eye, pretty clumsy.

  He let Victor swing again before he flashed his knife and cut through Victor’s robe and scored his arm.

  “You cut me!”

  “Do you want me cut you some more? I could cut deeper and closer to your heart or your face if I wanted.”

  Victor swung wildly, the blood beginning to show around the rent in his ro
be. One lucky swing connected to Ricky’s ear, knocking him to the ground.

  “Now it’s your turn!” Victor said as he raised the broomball stick.

  Ricky rolled closer to Victor and plunged the tip of his knife into the top of Victor’s boot.

  The stick dropped on Ricky without force as Victor dropped. Ricky quickly pulled out his knife to another scream from Victor.

  Victor’s two friends dragged him away to the infirmary in the next building over.

  A sticky wetness dribbled down Ricky’s neck as he sat up. Blood flowed from his ear. He looked at his classmates, disbursing. He thought he saw Loria with her friends. It looked like she flashed him a look of worry before turning away.

  He got to his feet and took a deep, painful breath. His back would be purple, and he’d probably need stitches on his ear, but he would not be caught in the open, so he staggered off to the cottage to repair his wounds as best he could.

  Before he reached the door, his ears began to ring, and he could barely stand up before his mind seemed to shut down.

  He opened his eyes, looking at the ceiling in his bedroom. His back still ached, and he realized that Victor had caught him a blow he hadn’t even remembered on his forearm. He stood up, swaying and unsteady on his feet, and looked in the mirror to see an ugly purple bruise. In fact, his back was filled with one big bruise. His ear had indeed needed a few stitches. He could feel them at the top of his ear where it met the skull.

  Mistress Doubli stood at the door to Ricky’s bedroom. The infirmary nurse stood behind her, carrying a bag.

  “Time to check your dressings,” Merry said. “Your waking up is the best news I’ve had today.” She rubbed her forehead. “Lord Taranta visited me yesterday afternoon and yanked his son out of the academy before I had the chance to expel the boy. That was the best news I had yesterday.”

  She stood aside to let the nurse through.

  “How is Victor?” Ricky said.

  The nurse shook her head. “He will live. You used a sharp knife, so the cuts were easy to sew up. He’ll be in pain, limping for a few weeks, but your knife didn’t cut into any bones or ligaments. The cut on his arm will heal with the thinnest of scars, just right for men to show shocked ladies when he’s older. You, on the other hand, have injuries on your back and likely a crack in your skull. You will always have a scar where the broomball stick could have taken your ear halfway off.”

 

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