Tempests and Slaughter

After closing the door, Ozorne flung himself into Arram’s chair. ‘Gods save us, why are you reading that dusty old thing?’ the prince demanded, looking at a book on Arram’s desk. ‘You don’t even have any class studies – you could read whatever you want. You could read something fun!’

Arram grinned at his new friend. ‘But this is my idea of fun. Is trapping robbers yours?’

‘I don’t like strangers handling my things,’ Ozorne said with a shrug. ‘And now you needn’t worry about more thieves. Once word gets around that our place is trapped, they’ll think the better of it.’

‘Were they actually servants here?’ Arram asked, concerned. ‘I wouldn’t have thought it.’

‘More like family of servants, or acquaintances who overheard who the servants wait on. Word will get around. And I can tell Master Chioké the traps didn’t even leave a mark.’ Ozorne grinned. ‘You now live in the safest room in the dormitories!’

The next morning was their day of worship, for those who chose to do so, and a day of rest for those who chose to relax. Arram heard Ozorne rise early and dress, but he went back to sleep. He had given up religious services not long after his arrival at the university, preferring to take one morning to loll in bed.

It wasn’t long before someone tapped on the door. Ozorne, who had returned, opened it and spoke softly to his guest: Arram recognized Varice’s reply. She asked him something, and Arram heard Ozorne walk closer. He turned over towards the wall and made a grumbling sound, as if he were still asleep. If they were going somewhere, he didn’t want them to feel obligated to ask him along simply because he was Ozorne’s roommate.

Ozorne hesitated, then left, closing the door quietly behind him.

Arram flipped on his back and sighed. He would have liked to go somewhere with them, but his pride got in his way. Pride was a horrible thing, and he wished he didn’t have any, but it was his family’s pride, so he was stuck with it. He didn’t even want to sleep any more.

He had just got dressed when the door swung open.

‘Oh, good,’ Ozorne said. ‘I’m on a mission. I’m not allowed to return to the Northern Gate without you. Varice says you no doubt pretended to be asleep because you thought we were going to invite you because we felt sorry for you, and you are supposed to stop being silly and come along.’

‘But …’ Arram said, knowing he ought to protest.

‘Come on,’ Ozorne insisted. ‘We’re going to lunch in town – my treat – and then there’s a play in the Imperial Theatre. My treat also. She’s right – you are being silly. We wouldn’t invite you if we didn’t like you. I’m much too selfish to do otherwise. You’ll need better shoes than those sandals if you have them.’

Dazed by this whirlwind of information, Arram donned his holiday shoes.

Varice shook a finger at Arram when they joined her. ‘Wicked boy!’ she cried. ‘Never do that again! You’re always invited, until you’re not! That’s our rule! Now, let’s go and have fun.’

Arram did, more than he ever had with his father and grandfather. He made the three-lined Sign against evil when he thought it, and left a copper in a corner shrine to Lady Wavewalker, goddess of the sea and those who sailed on it, but it was still true. It was one thing to walk along the stalls with someone who took interest only in cloth and clothing, being told no every time he asked for something unusual (though they were kind – to a limit – about books and maps). It was another to go with people who looked at the same things he looked at and discussed them; stopped to watch jugglers, fire eaters, acrobats, people who walked rings and balls along their arms and backs, and musicians; pondered over the second- and third-hand volumes at the booksellers; and looked at the animals for sale – only to be forced to leave when Ozorne began to shout at a seller who didn’t clean the dung from the animals’ cages.

‘If I had the power, there would be a law that they would have to keep the animals clean and properly fed,’ Ozorne said, fuming, as Varice and Arram dragged their friend away from the seller. The man shouted obscenities and threats as their party mocked him.

‘Maybe when your cousin is emperor you could ask him for the law,’ Varice suggested.

‘Ha! If he even remembers my name,’ Ozorne retorted. Varice’s face turned sad, and he quickly put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Oh, don’t. I’ll ask, when the day comes. I will.’

They moved on to the theatre and enjoyed themselves thoroughly. That night, when Arram flung himself onto his bed, he was too happy to sleep. They had eaten their supper from the market vendors’ carts, sampling one another’s dishes. He now had a list of new favourites to try in the dining hall. They had watched a puppet show that made them laugh themselves silly, just as they had at the short comedy before the play. The play itself was a heroic one, full of winged horses, a dragon, and a valiant hero. It was thoroughly satisfying, even from the high, cheap seats. Arram was surprised at how carefully his new friend paid out his coin, until Ozorne explained his mother said he must learn to manage his purse.

Arram thought of all of this as he lay in bed and grinned. What a fine day! He had friends!

At breakfast the next morning Varice looked at their bleary eyes and pale faces and smirked.

‘Did you get any sleep?’ she asked as they entered the dining hall.

‘A little,’ Ozorne mumbled. ‘Then he woke me up by scribbling and muttering about immortals. I asked what fascinated him so, and the next we knew it was daybreak.’

‘It was wonderful,’ Arram said. ‘Usually I talk to people about things and they just say “Huh?” or “Don’t ask stupid questions.”’

‘But you’re at the university now,’ Varice protested.

‘We were talking about the banishment of the immortals,’ Ozorne explained.

Varice’s face lit. ‘I don’t suppose you know if they used kitchen witches or hedgewitches, people like that to help, do you?’ she asked Arram. ‘I don’t see how they could have kept the little creatures from escaping without mages to work the smaller magics.’

‘I told you she ought to have been there,’ Ozorne said as he disentangled himself to gather a tray, bowl, and spoon.

Arram did the same, frowning in preoccupation. ‘I think I saw a book somewhere on how regular mages worked against the magics of the small immortals. It was very old but interesting, and it’s written in Common.’ He looked at Varice, who was putting melon and a roll on her tray. Embarrassed, he said, ‘I’m sorry – you’ve probably read it.’

‘No, I haven’t!’ she cried. ‘And I’ll die without it! Would you find it for me?’

Arram grinned at her. He really had found two actual friends, who talked about book things, watched exciting theatre shows, and enjoyed their food!

He took a chance with a personal question. ‘You remember we told you about the robbers, don’t you?’

She halted and cast a look at Ozorne. While they chose their meals, he was settling in at an empty table, out of hearing. ‘Of course I do. It’s just like Ozorne to have a trap laid.’

‘Well, he asked one of the thieves if he was from Siraj. Why would he do that? Because of his father?’

Varice nodded. ‘He took his father’s passing very hard. So did his mother. His sisters are a little better. … I suppose it’s different when you’re a boy. You get ideas, like you should have been there, and you could have saved him. Don’t ask him about it, though.’

‘I won’t – it’s why I came to you,’ Arram assured her.

She handed him an orange, then said quietly, ‘Sometimes he … gets angry if he tangles with someone he believes is from Siraj. His friends – his real friends – do their best to keep him out of that kind of trouble.’

‘Of course,’ Arram said, looking at Ozorne. Their day at the market had been tremendously fun, due to him and to Varice. He’d do anything for them. ‘You can count on me,’ he told her.

THE IMPERIAL UNIVERSITY OF CARTHAK

The School for Mages

The Lower Academy for Youthful Mages

SCHEDULE OF STUDY, AUTUMN TERM, SECOND HALF,

435 H.E.–SPRING TERM, 436 H.E.

Student: Arram Draper

Learning Level: Semi-Independent

Breakfast – Third Morning Bell

Morning Classes

History of the Carthaki Empire

Birds and Lizards: Anatomy