With a mighty effort, he forced himself to draw a few, deep breaths, and he tried to take stock of the situation, but he felt hot tears begin to well from his eyes, unbidden. A jagging sob racked him, as a heavy wave of desperate homesickness washed over him.
He lay face down on the bed and wept with bitter anguish for a few minutes until it seemed he would break in two. With one last shuddering sob, he forced himself to sit up. For a few moments, he gasped like a beached whale until his breathing normalised. With stolid determination, he planted himself in the chair and picked up the book that Doorkeeper had said was so important.
The pages were yellowed and obviously well-thumbed. How many boys had read this before him? The number 17, which was stamped on the flyleaf, told him that the book belonged in this very cell, and Grimm felt a kind of communion with the previous incumbents of the cell. He hoped they had all become mages rather than scullery servants.
The first part of the book was interesting enough, detailing the history of the Guild and the House. Apparently, Arnor House was actually a hundred and fifty years older than the Guild itself. The Guild had been inaugurated four hundred years before by common consent between several feuding groups of magic-users, the Arnor Institute for the Arcane Arts among them.
The founding of High Lodge gave the squabbling organisations guidance and a common purpose. Eventually, more and more Houses joined the new Guild of Magic-users, Sorcerers and Thaumaturges until it became the premier organisation for magic throughout the land.
Each House paid a certain amount to High Lodge every year, based on its ability to pay. High Lodge had the right to request temporary or permanent secondment of magic-users or scholars to the governing Lodge for the fulfilment of certain spells, or to ensure that there was always a full complement of mages at High Lodge. In return, the House was assured non-aggression from all other Guild Houses, financial aid in times of crisis and exclusive authority for all matters magical in its locality.
The highest honour for any Guild Mage was to be elected to the post of Lord Dominie of the Guild, who could only be selected from among the ranks of High Lodge every year.
A few brief paragraphs gave sketchy details of former Guild notables, and then the main part of the book began.
Student!
You have been granted the honour of induction into the Guild of Magic-users, Sorcerers and Thaumaturges. This is an august and venerable establishment, and you are privileged to have become a part of it.
As a Student at Arnor Guild House, you have the responsibility to heed and obey the rules of the Guild and of the House. Read these well. The House Magemasters will accept no ignorance of the regulations as an excuse for failing to observe them, and punishments will be assessed against each transgression, up to and excluding dismissal from the Scholasticate and the Guild.
Section 1-Comportment and Bearing
Subsection 1-Conduct
Rule 1.1.1: A Student shall, at all times, maintain a deferent and respectful manner towards all Mages, Neophytes, Adepts and Scholars.
Grimm thought that seemed easy enough. He had been brought up to be respectful to his elders. He could only guess at what the word 'deferent' might mean, but he guessed it meant 'polite'.
Rule 1.1.2: A Student shall obey diligently all orders and instructions given him by all Mages, Neophytes, Acolytes, Adepts and Scholars, excepting where such orders conflict with prior or subsequent countermanding orders given by the Prelate or the Student's class Magemaster, or except where such orders conflict with any other Guild Rule, or a Guild-approved House Rule. It shall at all times be considered that any orders given by the Prelate or Magemaster may be considered as licit, without reference to other rules and strictures.
Grimm could barely understand the ramifications of this Rule. He read through it carefully three times and it made little more sense to him. Deciding to return to this complicated rule later, he read on.
Rule 1.1.3: Except where explicitly permitted by the Student's Magemaster, or other licit authority, a Student shall at all times maintain a high standard of decorum and comportment…
The list went on and on in the same dry, impenetrable, prolix style. Grimm's eyes grew larger as the pages began to detail former freedoms now denied him. He would not be allowed to leave the Scholasticate for as long as his training lasted, a period of many years, or until he was dismissed to serve in the bowels of the House.
Although three meals were provided each day, woe betide the Student who was not in the Refectory by the time the tolling of the bell ended, for he would lose this meal and the next, in penance for the waste of food.
The requirements for cleanliness and neatness were rigorous. Rules were detailed for the laying out of dirty clothes for washing and for taking a bath. Each of these rituals was to be performed once a week at a specified time, and missing the narrow period allowed for these would result in the Student going dirty for the next week, and a 'Schedule D, paragraph 1 punishment' for poor hygiene if the Student could not otherwise keep himself clean. Grimm had no idea what a 'Schedule D punishment' was, but he guessed it would be severe.
The only alternative Grimm could see was to wash himself and his clothes with plain cold water in the small washbasin, an unappealing prospect, although the hygiene facilities, in truth, were little worse than those in his home smithy.
Hair was to be no longer than would fall to the bottom of the shoulder-blades, and it was to be kept clean and tied back.
Rules for the wearing of beards and whiskers were also specified, which gave Grimm a new reminder of how long he might need to stay in the Scholasticate.
Poor Students were expected to keep their robes in good condition and a needle and thread was provided for the repair of minor damage, but he who entered the Refectory or a schoolroom with torn or shoddily repaired robes would again be punished. Fortunately, Grimm had been used to darning and sewing for almost as long as he could walk. The smithy produced enough wealth for food and shelter but little else, and Gramma Drima's arthritic fingers rarely had been equal to the task.
Grimm read on for an hour, rule after rule and restriction after restriction. It seemed that the House consisted of nothing but constraints and strictures, and he began to despair of ever keeping track of the rules, let alone being able to quote them on demand. Even the sole movable objects in his cell, the chair, the table and the bed, had to be kept in precise, fixed locations and orientations.
He did not even understand many of the rules; whatever 'unnatural practices' were, he had no idea, and Grimm wondered if they involved play-acting. He was extremely well read for a boy of his age, but words like 'narcotics', 'impropriety' and 'insubordination' were beyond him. How could he obey the rules if he didn't know what they meant? He was in trouble before he had even begun as a Student.
An unbearable weight of despair began once more to descend onto the boy's narrow shoulders, and another sob escaped his lips. Why had Granfer sent him to this place, so heavy with pomp, ceremony and regulations, where most of the boys came from families rich beyond Grimm's wildest dreams?
At least, if he had been sent to the local school, he could have mixed with other boys like himself, boys from working families like his own. He knew how his grandfather loved him, but the idea that the kindly, grizzled old smith could willingly send his grandson to be immured in such a stark, lonely prison for many years was beyond Grimm, and tears of self-pity began to well unbidden from his eyes.
Lost in misery, with endless unanswerable questions flying endlessly around his mind like balls in a frenetic billiards game, Grimm started at the sound of a knock at the cell door. He did not expect Doorkeeper back for some time yet. He composed himself, managing to utter a faint and tremulous "Come in".