“My apologies, Mage Charlotte.” Said Marcus, somewhat sarcastically. “Perhaps I could try with another coal? The one I was assigned has been completely destroyed. With flame.”

  She gave him a mean look. “Please, return to your seat.” Turning to the others, she had them cast flame her way. The process for all three-hand six interns had taken the full afternoon. She dismissed everyone except Marcus to last-meal. “So what was that all about? What got into your mind to literally destroy your lump of coal?”

  “Making a point. These interns will never cast flame properly if you insist on teaching it im-properly. The ancient word for fire or flame is FO. The word for casting is C-I-A, pronounced see-AH. Together, it’s fo-see- AH, emphasis on the last syllable. In other words, ‘flame, I CAST!’” ”

  Mage Charlotte gave him an indignant look. “You, a first-turn, stand here and lecture me on the proper use of gift? I’ve been teaching it more turns than you have been alive!”

  “And, no disrespect intended, teaching it incorrectly.” He pointed to the ash where his coal had previously lain. “As you can see.” He turned back to face Mage Charlotte. “My grandfather, my guardian, was Lord High-mage to the king of Iber. I have been taught in the use of gift since I emerged at the age of a hand and two. And since then I have studied Kult extensively. It is disappointing to see it ignorantly used. Again, no disrespect intended. Kult has been a lost language for nearly a hand-fist of turns. Errors have crept in.”

  Mage Charlotte continued to look harshly at him. “You are dismissed, We will discuss this further. And you will not speak of any other improvements with me before you display them in class. Do you understand?”

  Marcus respectfully bowed his head. “Yes, Mage Charlotte, I understand. Perfectly.” He turned and went to the dining hall.

  The other interns had already filled plates, so there were few food choices remaining. He managed a small loaf-end of bread, soggy vegetables, and the crispy remnants of a venison roast. His friends, Wilhelm, Corinne and Moriah, had saved him a space at their table.

  “I can guess what that was all about,” said Wilhelm. “She wasn’t too happy with your little display of flame-casting.”

  “And what did you do?” asked Corinne. “That was pretty scary. We could all have been hurt.”

  “Probably not,” said Moriah. “I think Marcus had it well in hand. Right?”

  “No, no danger. I was just making a point. There’s a big difference between having many turns’ experience, and the experience of a single turn repeated many times. She is, in my opinion, of the latter.”

  “That’s a harsh judgment,” said Wilhelm.

  “But true, I’ve seen it before. It’s much like blade training: practice makes permanent. Learn to use gift one way, and that’s the way you use it forever. Even if it’s incorrect.”

  Corinne: “So you’re saying her way is not the correct way? It’s more or less the way I was taught before coming here”

  Marcus: “You saw what you all did. You saw what I did. Which was a stronger display of gift?”

  Wilhelm: “But perhaps you are just really strong in earth-gift. It doesn’t mean she’s teaching improperly.”

  Moriah: “Well, there is a simple way to find out. We try it both ways. Perhaps we should do it after our meal.”

  They did, and were convinced Marcus’ way was much stronger. He gave them the same discussion on Kult he had given Mage Charlotte.

  ------------000--------------

  Lord-mage Petros convened his regularly-scheduled staff meeting. Attending were the mage instructors and a few others of the senior staff, including the head house-mistress and Master Aaronson. He held an agenda in his hands. First, as always, was budget. “Last seven-day the question was raised about our over-all finances. I am pleased to say we find ourselves with a slight surplus, thanks to a generous pre-payment by one of our interns. He has presented us with tuition for the full four turns, with an additional four-crown donation. Comes to a bit over two-hand crowns, if what he says is true.”

  There were puzzled looks all around.

  Lord-mage Petros gave a small laugh and pulled a gleaming gold bar from his robe’s pocket, placing it on the table before them. I believe some of you have met our last-arriving intern, Marcus of Iber?”

  Charlotte was the first to speak. “Meet him! He is nothing but a trouble-maker and show-off! Wait ‘till I tell you what he did in my class this very day. Embarrassed me and endangered the whole class. I wouldn’t believe a word he tells you.”

  Master Isaacson jumped to Marcus’ defense. “I’m surprised to hear you say that, Charlotte. He has been nothing but helpful to me in blade training. He and that Princess from Tumano. What’s her name? Oh yes, Moriah. Both are master blades and are helping me teach the others.”

  The head house-keeper was next to speak. “And he made no complaint to be put in the attic, even gave the cleaning maids a wee bit of coin for helping him make the place livable. And puts a copper in with his laundry every first-day.”

  “I still wouldn’t trust him. Not at all.” She directed her remarks back to Lord Petros. “So he says it’s good gold, worth all of two-hands? I’d make sure it’s true before you go depending on any of it.”

  “Oh, I think we can trust him. He said he just had an identical one assayed by the Caldonian royal mint on his way here. They happily exchanged it weight-for-weight for coin. This bar even bears the royal mint mark of Caldonia certifying its weight and purity.” He sighed. “But you are right. I’ll have it sent to the Tumano royal mint. They will also verify. And besides, it doesn’t do us much good in this form.” They went on to other agenda items.

  One mage, however, lingered on the first. So, he had another bar just like this one? Just had it appraised and converted to coin? He must still have it in his possession. All two-hand crowns of it.

  ----- o0o -----

  Marcus went to the stables every seventh-day to spend time with Max, Wee and Rex. Max was not getting enough exercise. He and Wee were growing fat. And Rex, well, Rex was just an unhappy hound. He made his sentiments clear by turning his tail to Marcus. But a little treat, in the form of a meaty bone, immediately atoned for the neglect. Marcus gave all three animals a good brushing and examined his pack. The few things inside remained undisturbed. The pack itself, though, had been moved to a different corner of the stall. When he mentioned this to the stable-master, Marcus got only a shrug in return.

  “We have a new stable-boy, I’m sure he just moved it after mucking out the stall. I’ll remind him to return it to its customary spot.”

  Upon his return to the Academy, Marcus was surprised to find a maid waiting for him at the dining hall door. “The head house-mistress would like a word with you. She’s in her office. She asked me to send you there as soon as you arrive.”

  Marcus found the office door open. He knocked politely on the door frame, then entered when he heard the invitation to do so. She was at her desk, obviously in a very troubled state.

  “Oh, good, Marcus, you’ve returned. Such a terrible thing has happened! Someone has stolen my ring of keys this afternoon! I have duplicates for most, of course. But I’m afraid the attic key is one of those I cannot replace. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to go there. But to be safe, keep an eye open for any intrusions. And perhaps tomorrow I might borrow your key to make a copy for myself?”

  “Of course, and thank you for letting me know. I don’t have much to tempt a thief. But better safe now than sorry later.”

  With that, Marcus left and ascended the stairs to his room. Nothing was amiss. Yet. He would have to make quick decisions if he were to avoid missing last-meal. What would he have to hide, and where? First, the two-hand gold crowns. He had the sinking feeling they might be the target of the stolen keys. Then there were the blades. The black daggers he had taken from Cameron. The pair he had taken from Sinifir. The additional small blades he had collected from thieves on his travels to the Academy. And the long-blade of dark metal he had purchased from the old mage and peddler, Cletus. Manuscripts would be of little value, but he would want to protect his copy of the Chronicles, Kentuck’s dictionary, and the many notes he had composed on Kult. And the summoning stones. It was snug, but everything, except for the daggers and long-blades of course, fit in Edna’s ornately carved wooden box. The next question would be where to hide them?

  If there were a committed thief about, he would surely trace footsteps across a dusty floor to a hiding place within the piles of discarded furniture. Marcus would have to find a place he accessed regularly, but still obscure. His mind settled on the small storage room at the rear of the hall comfort room. He carried the box to the hidden second door and slipped into the small space dedicated to supplies. There was a top shelf, sufficiently wide to hold the box and blades, and with enough width to be fronted with a neatly folded stack of old towels. There were newer, cleaner towels on the shelves below. Work done, Marcus hurried to the dining hall just in time to catch the remnants of last-meal.

  The first attempt to burgle his living space was made on fourth-day, sometime after the mid-day meal. Marcus returned to his area after another lecture and demonstration by Mage Charlotte, to find his manuscripts scattered, bed overturned, and the large wooden chest turned out. Whoever had done this had obviously been in a great hurry, but thorough nevertheless. The question racing through his mind was how would he (or she) even know about the gold crowns? He hadn’t told anyone! Or had he? He replayed every conversation regarding gold he had had since arriving. There really was only one he could recall. It had been with the Lord-mage Petros. How do I know it’s pure gold? I recently had an identical bar assayed by the royal mint of Caldonia on my way here. They exchanged it weight-for-weight for coin. It was slightly over two-hand crowns. And they certified this one to be the same. If he had shared that bit of information, what would someone assume? That he still had those two-hand crowns in his possession! And unfortunately, they would assume correctly.

  Marcus saw no reason to delay the confrontation. He descended to the nave and passed down the transept to the Lord-mage’s office. The door was closed, and he heard conversations within. He knocked, waited, and knocked again. The door swung open. Petros looked at Marcus in surprise.

  “Marcus? Marcus of Iber? What brings you to my office, interrupting my business this late?” He was obviously displeased.

  “It is a personal matter, between the two of us. I am content to wait until you have concluded your business with these.” He pointed to the two men, neither of whom he recognized.

  The Lord-mage looked at his two guests. “I suppose we are finished here?” They nodded and walked around Marcus, who refused to move out of their way, and departed. Petros was now even more upset. “You presume to enter my office uninvited, interrupt my business, and insult my guests? What gives you the right…”

  Marcus answered, coldly. “Gold. You have betrayed a confidence, placing my life and wealth at risk.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about! Now get out, before I throw you out!”

  Marcus was un-moved “No, I doubt you would be able to do that even if you tried. So be silent and listen. Surely you are aware the head house-mistress had her keys stolen this past seventh-day. She had the only key to the attic, save the one I carry. This afternoon someone, or more than one, entered the attic and burgled my possessions. It was by key, not a forced entry. So I ask myself three questions. Who, how and why? Do you want to venture a guess? I would think you could answer at least two of them. Let’s start with why.”

  Lord Petros’ eyes were blazing with indignation. “Such insolence! I will have you thrown out of this Academy!”

  Marcus ignored the threat. “Well, then, let me help you remember. The why is two-hand crowns. Crowns I redeemed from the Caldonian mint for a second gold bar identical to the one I gave you. No one knew of this except you. So now we go to the how question. How would a thief know about those crowns, except you told him, or them? Another question you should be able to answer. I doubt you can answer the third. But together we certainly shall try.”

  “I haven’t told anyone about your crowns! Now get out!”

  Marcus used mind-touch. A lie. “We both know that’s a lie. Let’s try again. To whom did you reveal I possessed two-hand crowns?” Marcus continued his mind-touch. It revealed exactly what had transpired. “Or let me put it another way. What did you say, and to whom, that would lead them to presume I had two-hand crowns? Perhaps something like ‘Oh, I know it’s good gold. He had an identical bar converted to coin in Caldonia on his way here’.” It was, of course, his near exact words spoken in the staff meeting.

  The Lord-mage was thoughtful, then brought a hand to his face. “Fata forgive me, That’s exactly what I did. I said it to the entire senior staff of the Academy.” He sank into a chair, deflated in sudden guilt and shame. “I just couldn’t resist showing it off. A solid gold bar. Who would have believed it? This means, of course…”

  “…that you and I have a mage problem, something to keep you up tonight. And probably many more hereafter. As for me, I’m going to last-meal while there’s something left to eat. Oh, by the way, the crowns are well-hidden and remain safe. If you care to know, not on Academy grounds.” The last was a lie, of course. But Marcus wanted to see if the searching, which would continue, would indeed move away from the Academy premises. He didn’t like the idea of keeping one eye open as he slept.

  ----- o0o -----

  “Your attention, please.” Petros struck the table with the small mallet he used for that purpose. “There is one very serious matter for us to discuss, before we move on to our regular agenda.” He turned to the head house-mistress “Cynthia, have the missing keys been returned?”

  “No, Lord Petros, they have not.”

  “I feared not. As you all know, shortly after this term began I admitted a late-arriving candidate, Marcus of Iber. I was correct in doing so. But I used ill judgment in revealing the manner in which he paid his tuition. Last seven-day I showed you a gold bar. To my regret, I mentioned that he had presented an identical bar to the Caldonian mint. They readily exchanged it weight-for-weight for coin. Two-hand crowns to be exact. Someone, here in this room, or someone you’ve spoken to, has attempted to find and steal those crowns.” He turned to the head house-mistress. “That is why your keys were stolen.” He turned back to the others. “Late this afternoon the attic was accessed, by key not by force, and the space occupied by young Marcus was searched. Thoroughly. The crowns were not found because he has placed them in a secure location outside the Academy. I am telling you this in the hope that the guilty party, or parties, will come forth and make a clean confession. That is all. Now, on to our usual agenda.”

  ----- o0o -----

  It was seventh-day. Marcus and Wilhelm made their way to the stables, conversing and enjoying the beginning of the first turning of the new turn. Classes and exams were behind them for the fourth turning. Their first turn at the Academy was now one-third over. As they approached the village, Marcus had the distinct impression they were being watched, followed. Unfortunately, sixth- and seventh-days were the busiest in the village so there was a modest crowd moving through the market district. He used mind-touch to filter through the sea of people surrounding them to no avail. In truth, he had allowed his gift-power to wane, fearful of being detected for what he was.

  At length they reached their destination. The animals were happy to see them and equally glad to receive the treats he invariably brought. Rex snatched the meaty bone from his hand and curled up in the corner near his pack, barely giving him a greeting. Wilhelm helped Marcus curry Max and Wee. The stable-master stopped by just as they were finishing.

  “Everythin’ to yur satisfaction?”

  Marcus answered. “Yes, appears so. How are things with you and with the stables?”

  “Oh, could be better. Remember that one youth, the one that moved yur pack? Had to let ‘em go. He was just plain lazy. And only followed directions when he wanted. I found your pack in the wrong corner of the stall twice this seven-day, after he finished the muckin’ out. Yuh might want to check to make sure nuthin’s missin’. And check yur tack, too, ‘specially those saddle bags.”

  “Thank you, I shall. Nothing much worth taking, though. Mostly camping gear and a bit of used clothing.” The stable-master departed and Marcus did as he had suggested. Everything was in order. Nothing seemed to be missing.

  Marcus and Wilhelm parted after they reached the Academy, promising to meet for last-meal. Marcus had continued his assessment and examination of the pile of manuscripts Darius had purchased on his behalf. He had started on the old ballads which contained some welcome surprises. The oldest had occasional phrases in Kult, mostly in the form of common phrases and colorful curses. Later versions had the same, but in Rontal. Placing them side-by-side allowed him to add a number of words to his growing dictionary.

  ----- o0o -----

  It was third-day. Word of the ransacking had finally made its way to the gossip wheel. Marcus thought of it as a wheel because it seemed to go ‘round-and-‘round with exaggeration at every spin. His three friends were quick to confront him, asking if the rumors were true.

  “What have you heard?”

  “That the attic was broken into, your belongs scattered and destroyed. And all your coin stolen!” said Corinne.

  “Yeah, and your furniture all broken up!” added Wilhelm.

  Marcus laughed. “And you, Moriah? What do you have to add?”

  “I heard what Corinne heard, same source, same time. I doubt it’s all true, though. Or you would have mentioned it to us.”

  “Well, the facts are as follows. Yes, my space was violated, why is anyone’s guess. Searched? Yes? But nothing taken, nothing broken.”

  That’s all?” said Wilhelm, clear disappointment in his voice.

 

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