The dark-haired youth said, 'This bumpkin wants to postpone our welcome, Godfrey. What do you think?'

  'I think he's being presumptuous, Servan.'

  'So, it's presumptuous to want to be friendly?' asked Jommy, rhetorically.

  Servan's dark eyes narrowed as he feigned deliberation. After a second he said, 'No. I don't think so. Let's begin now.' He poked his finger hard into Jommy's chest. 'Why don't you put down that bundle so I can start your education right now, peasant, beginning with not speaking back to your betters!'

  Jommy sighed. He took off his bundle slowly, saying, 'So, it's going to be like that, then, is it?' He put the pack down, and grinned as he stepped forward. 'See, as a rule I'm as easy going as the next fellow, but I've been around enough to know that everywhere you go, regardless of nationality or rank, time of the day, or month of the year—' and he suddenly threw a straight right punch to Servan's jaw which caused his eyes to roll up in his head as he collapsed to the ground, '—you find idiots!'

  To the blond-haired boy he said, 'You want any of this, then?'

  'No,' said the now-shocked boy.

  'Then be kind enough to tell us where the new students go.'

  'Brother Kynan's office.' Godfrey pointed at the main entrance to the university. 'In there, to the right, second door.'

  'Thanks, mate,' said Jommy with a smile. 'And when your friend awakes, tell him no worries. I believe everyone's entitled to a mistake now and again. So, we can start over fresh tomorrow. But next time he tries to lord it over us "country lads" I'll really lose my temper.'

  Godfrey just nodded.

  Jommy picked up his travel-pack and said to his companions, 'Off we go, then.'

  They started across the large courtyard between the main gate and the huge building that was the Royal University of Roldem, leaving a muttering group behind as they gathered around their fallen classmate. A younger student hurried to Jommy's side, looking up with a ferocious grin and said, 'I'll show you the way!'

  'That's a lad. What's your name?'

  'Grandy, what's yours?'

  'Jommy. These are Tad and Zane.'

  The boy looked no more than twelve or thirteen years of age, and had an infectious smile. His face was freckled and his head was crowned with a thatch of dark brown hair. His expression bordered on the gleeful.

  'You always this happy?' asked Tad.

  Grandy shook his head. 'No, only on days when someone hits Servan in the mouth.'

  'Happen a lot?' asked Zane.

  'No, today was the first time, but I'll come and watch any time you want to do it again.'

  'Bit of a pain, is he?' asked Jommy, as they mounted the wide steps leading to the massive double doors.

  'More than a pain. He's a bully and ... he's just mean. I don't know why; he's got everything anyone could want.'

  'I'm surprised no one's punched him before,' said Jommy.

  'That's probably because his uncle's the King,' said Grandy.

  Jommy stopped so suddenly that Zane stepped hard into him, tripping and landing in a heap. Tad stared at Grandy, his eyes blinking like an owl surprised by a lantern.

  'His uncle, the King?' said Zane, getting quickly to his feet.

  'Not properly,' said the boy in a bright tone. 'His father's some sort of cousin, a nephew to the King's father, the old King, if you see—' his grin got wider, '—but he refers to the King as his "uncle" and no one's willing to argue about it. Because he's still a prince and all.'

  Jommy stood motionless, then said, 'Stepped into it that time, didn't I?'

  'What are you going to do?' asked Tad.

  'Well, as I see it, I've either got to make him my new friend, or I've got to beat him so badly he'll be afraid to tell anyone.'

  Grandy laughed aloud. 'I don't think either's going to work. Who's your patron?'

  'Patron?' asked Zane. 'What do you mean?'

  'Who got you in to the university?' asked the active boy as they entered the vestibule and moved towards a large hall running to the right and left. 'My father's a former captain in the royal fleet, and my grandfather was the old king's - what the people call the current king's grandfather - admiral of the Southern Fleet. Both went here, so they had to take me, as a legacy. When I'm done here, I'm going for the navy, too. So, who's your patron?'

  Tad tried to remember what Caleb had told them to say should anyone ask this question, and said. 'Well, we're from the Vale of Dreams, so we know people in both the Kingdom of the Isles and Great Kesh—'

  Zane cut him off, saying, 'Turhan Bey, Lord of the Keep, Chancellor of Great Kesh.' The boys had only met the man once, briefly, less than a year earlier, when the plot against the throne had been thwarted, and it was unlikely the Lord of the Keep of Great Kesh could pick them out of a street gang, but Pug had close ties with the man and he apparently had agreed to act as sponsor without looking too closely at Pug's reasons.

  Grandy laughed. 'Well, that's a high enough personage that Servan will at least think twice before he complains to his father, or maybe if he does, his father will think twice before he has someone cut your throat. Here we are.' Now they stood before a large wooden door to the right of the hall with a small viewing window in the middle. 'Knock three times, then wait,' said Grandy. I'll see you later.' He scampered off and the three newcomers exchanged shrugs.

  Jommy knocked three times and they waited.

  After a moment the cover on the viewing window moved aside. They saw a brief glimpse of light and what appeared to be a man's eyes, then the viewing window closed. The door swung open wide and a monk of La-Timsa stood in the doorway. He was tall, broad of shoulder and chest, and wore a light brown robe which reached the floor. The robe's hood was currently thrown back to reveal an equally massive head, clean shaven in the style of his order. 'Yes?'

  Jommy glanced at his companions whose expressions made it clear they expected him to do the talking, so he said, 'We were told to come here ... sir.'

  The monk said, 'It's "Brother" not "sir" Enter.'

  When the three boys were in the room, he said, 'Close the door.'

  Zane closed it and the monk sat down behind a large table. 'I am Brother Kynan, Reeve of this university. You will address all monks as "Brother", and any priest you meet as "Father". Is that clear?'

  'Yes ... Brother,' said Tad. The others echoed him a moment later.

  'Who are you?'

  Jommy said, 'I'm Jommy, and this is Tad and Zane,' he indicated which was which. 'We're here from—'

  'I know where you are from,' said the monk. His head was dominated by a massive brow ridge and deep-set eyes which gave the impression that he was constantly glaring. Or perhaps, thought Zane, he was glaring. 'You are not what I expected when we received a request from the Imperial Court in Kesh to admit three "promising young men" in the middle of the year.' He fell silent as he regarded them.

  Jommy was about to say something, when Brother Kynan cut him off. 'You only speak when you are spoken to, is that clear?'

  'Yes, Brother,' said Jommy. His expression showed he was not happy being addressed in this fashion.

  'You will have to work harder than the others, to catch up. Our education is the finest in the world, so consider yourselves privileged to be admitted to the university. Here you will study many things: history, the arts, the revealed truth as given by La-Timsa to her chosen, as well as military strategy and tactics. Roldem's finest young nobles study here, preparing to serve the nation in the navy, the marines, or the royal court, as it is the duty of all who finish their studies to spend ten years in service before returning to their families. Many remain in service to the Crown their entire lives.'

  Tad and Zane exchanged worried glances, for no one had said anything about service to Roldem. What they knew about the Conclave didn't preclude Pug ordering them to spend years in the royal court, or fighting Roldem's enemies on land or sea; but it would have been less of a shock had someone mentioned it to them. As if reading their thoughts, Brother Kynan said, 'Those of you who are not citizens of Roldem are not given the privilege of serving, but rather are required to pay a large sum in gold.' He looked Jommy up and down. 'Your looks belie your station, but that is not at issue. Shortly, you will go see Brother Timothy, who will take those garments from you and store them. You will henceforth wear the university's uniform every day from now until you depart. There is no rank among the students, so no titles are permitted. You will address one another by name only, and the brothers and fathers by both their title and name.

  Our rules are strict and we do not tolerate disobedience. Now, strip off your tunics.'

  The boys exchanged quick glances, then dropped their bundles and shed their tunics. 'Kneel before the table,' said Brother Kynan. Again they glanced at one another. 'Kneel!' shouted the large monk, and the boys did so.

  Brother Kynan strode to the corner of the room and returned with a long wand of dark wood. 'This rod,' he said as he showed it to them, 'is the instrument of correction. Any infraction will earn you strokes from it. The number of strokes will be determined by the severity of the infraction.' Suddenly, he lashed out, taking Jommy across the shoulders, then Zane, then Tad. All three boys winced but none of them cried out. 'This is so you know what you face. Are there any questions?'

  Jommy said, 'One, Brother.'

  'Speak.'

  'What is the punishment for striking another student?'

  'Ten strokes.'

  Jommy sighed then said, 'Well, then, I suppose you'd best lay on, Brother, as I hit a chap named Servan a few minutes before getting here.'

  'Good,' said the monk. He delivered ten hard strikes across Jommy's back as Zane and Tad stayed on their knees wincing every time the wand fell. When he had finished, he said, 'Rise and put on your tunics.'

  They did as instructed and then Brother Kynan said, 'You're more intelligent than you look, Jommy. The punishment for not reporting yourself is double the lashes. You would have had twenty had someone else told me of your striking Servan.'

  Jommy just nodded.

  'Go down the hall and at the last door on the left you'll find Brother Timothy. He will see to your needs.'

  Tad and Zane put on their shirts with some signs of discomfort but Jommy just yanked his on, picked up his bag and left the room. In the hall, Tad asked, 'Doesn't your back hurt?'

  'Of course it hurts,' said Jommy. 'But I had worse from my dad back when I was younger than Grandy, and I don't like giving his type the satisfaction.'

  'What type?' asked Zane.

  'There are two types of men who give out punishment, old son. Those who know it's necessary and those who enjoy it. Brother Kynan's the sort who enjoys it. The more you show how much it hurts, the more he enjoys it.'

  They reached the door and knocked three times. A voice from within said, 'Don't just stand out there in the rain! Come in!'

  Zane glanced around. 'Rain?'

  Jommy laughed and opened the door. Inside they found another room, larger than Brother Kynan's office, but instead of being an austere workplace it was a veritable warehouse. Along the wall to their left shelves ran from floor to ceiling and on each rested small wooden boxes, each with a name and number carefully painted on it. There must have been hundreds of them, for the room stretched away behind row upon row of shelves that rose up from the floor to block their view. Two narrow paths ran between the shelves and the bare right wall and one between the shelves on the left wall and the shelves they faced. The only other feature in the room was a small table and chair, occupied by a monk. The wizened little man was perhaps the tiniest human being any of the boys had ever seen; the average dwarf would have seemed to tower over him. His head was shaved like Brother Kynan's, but he sported a full red beard streaked with grey. The man's eyes were a vivid blue and his face seemed to be frozen in a perpetual smile. 'New boys!' he announced with glee. 'I heard we were to have some new boys! That's just splendid!'

  Tad said, 'Brother Kynan told us to come here. Are you Brother Timothy?'

  'Yes, I am, indeed, that's who I am.' He continued to chuckle. 'Well, then, let's begin. Off with your clothes.' He stood and scurried down the left aisle, leaving the boys looking at one another in surprise.

  'Perhaps we get uniforms,' said Zane.

  'No,' said Tad. 'Really?'

  Jommy winced slightly as he pulled off his tunic, and by the time Brother Timothy returned, carrying three wooden boxes in a stack that threatened to overbalance with each step he took, the boys stood naked.

  Tad said, 'Here, Brother, let me help you,' as he grabbed the topmost box.

  'That's fine,' said the monk. 'You each take one.' When they each stood holding a box - inside which were tunics, trousers, hats and boots, as well as white linen small-clothes - he said, 'Well don't just stand there like fools, Get dressed. If something's too big or too small, we'll sort it out.'

  It took only a minute to realize the uniform handed to Jommy was too small and the one Zane had far too large. They swapped and discovered both had decent fits. The boots were a different matter and it took the diminutive monk several trips to the rear of the storage room to find boots that fitted them. But in the end each of them stood wearing the identical costume they had seen the others wearing.

  Tad suddenly laughed, and Jommy said, 'What?'

  'I'm sorry, Jommy, but ...'

  'You look ridiculous,' finished Zane.

  'Well, neither of you look as if you'll be impressing the girls around that fountain in Kesh where I met you any time soon.'

  Tad laughed even more.

  'Girls,' said Brother Timothy. 'Can't be talking about girls, now. It's not allowed.'

  All three stopped laughing and Tad said, 'No girls?'

  'No,' said the monk. 'We know how young boys are, yes we do. Just because we're a celibate order doesn't mean we don't remember, though it's not a good thing to remember too much. Why, when I was a lad, before I got the calling ...' He let the thought finish itself. 'No, no girls. You must study, yes, study, and practise, practise a great deal. Yes, but no girls.'

  The odd little monk seemed to have reached the point of utter confusion on the subject and Jommy said, 'Brother, what next?'

  'Next?' asked the monk.

  'What do we do next?' Jommy elaborated.

  'Oh, what do you do next!' said the monk, returning to the amused state the boys had found him in. 'Why, you study, and you practise.'

  Tad rolled his eyes, while Zane decided to clear things up. 'He means, what do we do right now; are we finished here?'

  'Yes, yes. You come here when you need supplies, and if you tear a garment or need new boots - though the Father doesn't like it if you wear out boots.'

  'What sort of supplies?' asked Tad.

  'Oh, supplies!' exclaimed the little monk and he was off to the back of the room once more. A moment later he returned with three of the odd leather pouches they had seen all the other students carrying. 'Here are your supplies. These are student purses. Look inside!'

  The boys discovered that the purses were basically two soft leather skins sewn together, one bigger than the other so it created a flap which folded over, keeping the bag's contents inside. Inside they found a small knife, a small squat jar with a stopper, a half-dozen quills, and a sheaf of paper. There were other items wrapped in paper that was treated with some sort of oil or wax, as well as a small box.

  Jommy started to extract the box, but Brother Timothy said, 'Later. You can look later. I just wanted to make certain I didn't give you an empty purse. Now, learn to write small.'

  'Small?' asked Zane.

  'Makes the paper last longer,' replied Timothy.

  'Where do we go now, Brother?' asked Jommy.

  'Go to the hall of residence. Ask for Brother Stephen; he is the Proctor.' With a wave of his hand, he said, 'Now, go away!'

  'Brother,' asked Tad as they moved towards the door, 'where is the hall of residence?'

  'The residences are in the other wing of this building. Go back down the hall to the right and at the last door on the left you'll find Brother Timothy. He will see to your needs.'

  They left the room and went back down the hall. At the end of the hall they came to a room with no door. It was an immense hall, and along each wall a row of beds jutted out. At the foot of each a wooden chest rested.

  Walking down the aisle between the chests was another monk, this one with no beard. 'You are the new boys.' It was a statement, not a question.

  'Yes,' answered Zane, quickly adding, 'Brother.'

  'I am Brother Stephen, the Proctor. I am in charge of all the students when they are not at class, prayer or otherwise tasked by another monk or priest. Follow me.' He turned and led them to the farthest end of the hall. He pointed to a single bed on the right, and said, 'One of you will sleep here.' He then pointed to two beds on the left side of the room. 'Two of you will sleep there.'

  The boys quickly looked at one another, shrugged, and Tad and Jommy went to the left, while Zane took the right-hand bed. As Zane started to sit down on it, the monk said, 'Do not sit!'

  Zane snapped upright. 'Sorry, Brother.'

  'Look inside the chest.'

  They did and in each chest they found a boot brush, a comb and a large coarse linen cloth, as well as a razor and a cake of hard soap. Zane started to reach into the chest to examine the comb, and the monk said, 'Touch nothing!'

  Zane's expression was one of pain. 'Sorry, Brother ... again.'

  'Look at how each item is arranged. Each morning you will rise and make your bed, and go to the bathroom. There you will bathe, clean your hair, shave your face, and afterwards give your towel to a servant who will give you a dry one. You will then return here. Your clothing will have been folded the night before and placed in the chest. You will get dressed, then replace the other items exactly as you see them. If any item is incorrectly replaced, you will receive five strokes of the cane. If any item is missing, twenty strokes. Is that understood?'

 

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