Word of Honour

by Michael Pryor

  'I see,' Craddock said. 'And your status as irregular operative, you're happy with that?'

  Aubrey thought for a moment. 'I wouldn't mind some more training and some access to the Magisterium's resources.'

  'I'll see what I can do.'

  At that moment, a hubbub broke out from the direction of the street. Aubrey was automatically alert, but he relaxed when he saw his parents mounting the stairs.

  Sir Darius greeted Craddock and Tallis as if he had expected them to be there. On reflection, Aubrey thought that was probably the case.

  'Hello, Mother,' he said. He kissed her cheek. 'Interested in seeing experiments with space and perspective?'

  'Hello, Aubrey. Are you eating properly? I heard you were ill and had to miss some classes this week.'

  'Three times a day, as prescribed. Feeling much better.'

  'Is this true, George?'

  George blushed, as was his wont when in the presence of Lady Rose. 'True? Rather. Three meals, one after the other. Made him ox-like in the health stakes.'

  Lady Rose looked sceptically at both of them. 'Then you need more vegetables, Aubrey. See to it.' She leaned close. 'Your father has told me about your latest exploit.

  I'm proud, and he is too.'

  'He is?'

  'He may tell you. He may not. Sometimes he thinks that too much praise is not helpful for a young person. I argue that unearned praise is the problem, but credit where credit is due is my policy.'

  Sir Darius offered his arm to his wife. 'To the paintings?'

  'Of course. That's what we're here for.' She smiled. 'Among other things.'

  Tallis and Craddock followed Sir Darius and Lady Rose. Aubrey and George were left alone. 'Shall we go?' Aubrey said.

  'You go, old man. I'm waiting for someone. Ah, here she is.'

  A pretty, diminutive young woman hurried up the stairs. Her golden curls peeped out from under a small, excessively stylish bonnet. She smiled widely when she saw George.

  'Sophie!' he cried and dashed across the entrance hall. He took both her hands. 'Aubrey, do you remember Sophie Delroy from Lutetia?'

  'Of course I do. Hello, Sophie.'

  'Hello, Aubrey. What progress has your father made with women's suffrage in your country?' She took a notebook and pencil out of her bag and waited for his answer.

  'Not now, Sophie,' George said. 'You're here to report on Ophelia Hepworth's exhibition first. Politics after.'

  'Politics always come first, George,' she said. Her accent made his name sound like Zhorzhe. Aubrey had an inkling that George enjoyed it.

  George offered Sophie his arm. 'To the paintings?'

  She frowned. 'Haven't you forgotten something?'

  George reached into his jacket and took out a notebook of his own. 'Ready.'

  This time, Aubrey was left alone. He was happy George had such a kindred spirit to enjoy the exhibition with. They were a fine couple and he wished them happiness.

  A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. 'I saw Craddock and Tallis in the exhibition. What on earth are they doing here?'

  Caroline was wearing something vaguely oriental, high-waisted, in a combination of shimmering silver and crimson. She had a small hat with a feather in it.

  Aubrey swallowed, tried to hide it, nearly choked.

  Caroline sighed. 'If you're going to keep reacting like that, I'm going to stop dressing up.'

  Red-faced, Aubrey waved a hand frantically. 'No, no, don't do that. Last thing I want. Something just got caught in my throat. A fly. Beetle. Something.'

  She crossed her arms. 'So tell me about Craddock and Tallis.'

  When he'd finished, Caroline glanced toward the exhibition area. 'They don't suspect that you gave the Rashid Stone to Professor Mansfield?'

  'I think Craddock might. But he didn't press the point. The Sultan may have more friends than he realises.'

  'It's a pity that Mr Ravi didn't have a chance to investigate the stone. From what you've told me, his insights could have been vital.'

  Aubrey – and the entire university – had been shocked at the news of Lanka Ravi's death. The brilliant theoretician had abruptly sailed for home, but died on the voyage, of an unspecified disease. It was a loss that would be felt for years, but many were already clamouring to be allowed access to the numerous notebooks Ravi had left behind. Rumours were abounding about the contents of the notebooks – brilliant, difficult insights that would need much close attention. Aubrey hoped that he'd be allowed to see them some day.

  'And with all that's happened, where does that leave us?' Caroline said and Aubrey was nearly lost in the heady import of her words.

  Where indeed? A thousand scenarios played out in his mind.

  'Sorry,' he said when he realised Caroline was staring at him. 'It's getting a touch stuffy in here.'

  'I agree. You need some fresh air.'

  'I haven't seen the exhibition.'

  'I've seen it. I'll tell you about it while we walk.'

  'We? Walk? We?'

  'If you're just going to mumble nonsense rhymes, I'm going alone.'

  THEY WALKED IN SILENCE FOR SOME TIME, TOWARD Whitsun College. They crossed the lawn of the courtyard, out the Bannister Gate and along the well-populated river bank. In the early evening, the luncheon picnics that had become afternoon teas were well on their way to becoming supper, with groups of languid students enjoying the last vestiges of the day.

  Aubrey, as always, sought for things to say that wouldn't make him sound stupid, or crass, or anything else she wouldn't like. After some internal struggle, he decided on a novel approach: he chose to remain silent.

  They passed tennis courts. The sound of tennis balls on racquets reminded Aubrey of a chain of bubbles bursting, very slowly.

  Eventually, it was Caroline who broke the silence, as they rounded the last of the courts and headed towards the town. 'Are you unwell?'

  Aubrey considered this. 'You mean, apart from my condition?'

  'I'll get to that. It's just that you're unusually quiet.'

  'Ah. I was being mysterious.'

  'Is that what it was? I thought you might have indigestion.'

  So much for mysterious, he thought. 'You're back into your studies?'

  A tennis ball came sailing over the fence. Caroline caught it in one hand and lobbed it back. 'Of course. I have some catching up to do.'

  'It gets like that, sometimes.'

  'What does?'

  'This adventuring business. Exciting stuff, but eventually day-to-day life has to be taken care of. It's lucky you're a quick study.'

  'Yes.' She wrinkled her brow. 'You've managed it, adventuring then catching up?'

  'Not without some late nights and close squeaks.

  Sometimes the adventure is the easy part, and catching up the hard part.'

  They wandered by the Botanic Garden, where cactuses and succulents seemed to be making a determined bid to take over the perennials bed.

  'Speaking of your condition,' Caroline said. 'How is it?'

  'Precarious. Unstable. Fragile.' He sighed. 'No change, in other words.'

  'And what are you doing about it?'

  Aubrey would have appreciated some sympathy, but Caroline's matter-of-fact confidence that he would have matters in hand – or at least have some sort of plan – was oddly cheering. 'Well, the Rashid Stone and the Roman fragment look promising. I'm hoping that when Professor Mansfield gets back we can really start to crack that ancient script. It might hold some clues.'

  'Or it might not.'

  Aubrey glanced sharply at her, but she touched him on the arm. 'I don't mean to be harsh. But your state is too serious not to have an alternative plan, just in case your first is fruitless.'

  'I'm in the right place for research. An answer could be waiting for me in a book, on a parchment, something.

  I just have to find it.'

  'If it's there at all,' Caroline said and once again she touched his arm to remove the sting from her words.

 
Aubrey didn't mind. The balm was worth the hurt.

  'Or there is Dr Tremaine,' Aubrey said cautiously.

  'He might know something.'

  Caroline's face set hard. They walked in silence past the red brick of the Music Faculty and turned a corner toward the centre of town.

  'Then you want to find Tremaine as much as I do,' she said eventually.

  'Oh yes. As well as his knowledge, there is a matter of the Brayshire Ruby. I haven't told Father yet . . .'

  'As you thought you'd get it back before he noticed it was gone.'

  'Yes.' Aubrey shrugged. 'He's dangerous, Tremaine.'

  'Which is why he should be found.'

  'And brought to justice.'

  'Anything to stop him.'

  Aubrey bought ice-cream for them from a roadside vendor, even though he wasn't hungry. It dripped, and he imagined someone following his vanilla trail along the street.

  He hadn't yet made a fool of himself so, according to precedent, he was about to. Rather than leave it to happen haphazardly, he decided to take matters into his own hands. 'And what about us, then?'

  Caroline's face clouded. 'I don't know.'

  'That's unusual. You're usually quite certain about things.'

  'Yes. It's important to be certain.'

  She finished her ice-cream, thoughtfully. To Aubrey, she looked unbearably sweet and impossible. At that moment, with her as perfectly charming, wise, fascinating and lovely as she was, he realised how things were, and how things had to be.

  He cleared his throat and gave the last of his ice-cream to a hungry-looking dog that was waiting outside a pub.

  'I was thinking that things were going well,' he said, every word a stab in his heart. 'I mean, going well as they are.

  I enjoy your company, and you're more than handy, adventure-wise. Vital, even, when it comes to saving the country. Not that anyone would know because our exploits are secret. But there you have it.'

  What have I done? he thought, but he knew. He'd made sure that any hopes he'd had were dashed.

  'Babbling, Aubrey,' she said. This time she glanced at him. 'And babbling very kindly.' It was her time to clear her throat. Aubrey had enough perspicacity to look away when she touched the corner of her eyes with a knuckle.

  'I won't be so ungrateful, so gauche as to contradict you, dear Aubrey. So I'll agree. Yes, I think things have been going well between us.'

  'Perfectly manageable,' his traitor mouth said as they walked side by side, not looking at each other.

  'Perfectly manageable,' she repeated softly.

  AUBREY AND CAROLINE WANDERED BACK TO THE GALLERY through an evening that was warm and drowsy. Honeysuckle scented the air.

  George dashed down the gallery stairs, towing Sophie and waving a newspaper. 'Look! I'm in Luna!'

  He thrust it in front of Aubrey and Caroline. Submersibles. Stage magic. Underground tunnels. Traitors. Exploding thunderclouds.

  'I don't remember any bronze giants,' Aubrey said.

  'Nor armies of giant sloths,' Caroline added.

  George beamed. 'I had to fiddle with the details a little.'

  'A little? What's this about a hot air balloon in an underground chamber?'

  'License, license.' George waved a hand. 'It's the sort of thing my readers love. Brave John Hope, useful Arthur St Clair and the lovely Charlotte Henderson. The Adventurers Three.'

  Caroline raised an eyebrow. 'Lovely Charlotte Henderson?'

  Aubrey opened and closed his mouth a few times. 'Useful Arthur St Clair?'

  'Imagination is a wonderful tool, isn't it?'

  'But it's not true.'

  'Fiction isn't meant to be true.' George grinned at their expressions. 'Since all this is secret, I had to say it was all made up. They loved it.'

  Aubrey, Caroline and Sophie laughed. George looked offended for a moment, but couldn't keep it up. He joined in, until people looked out of windows to see what all the jollity was about.

  About the

  Author

  Michael Pryor has published more than a dozen fantasy books and over forty short stories, from literary fiction to science fiction to slapstick humour. Michael has been shortlisted six times for the Aurealis Awards, has been nominated for a Ditmar Award, and three of his books have been Children's Book Council of Australia Notable Books. Michael co-created (with Paul Collins) the highly successful Quentaris Chronicles. He is currently writing Time of Trial: The Fourth Volume of The Laws of Magic, as well as further books in the Chronicles of Krangor series.

  For more information about Michael and his books, visit www.michaelpryor.com.au.

  And visit www.HouseofLegends.com.au for news about upcoming books, plus competitions, book trailers, and an exclusive Laws of Magic short story!