"That's fair enough." Grimm smiled and shook hands with Argand and Madar. Despite his confident boast, he had no experience of more than minor scuffles.
"If you don't mind too much, we really ought to practice these rune things first," he said, "I can't remember half of them, and Crohn will be testing us tomorrow."
"That's the second thing, not first," Madar corrected. "You eat up first, and then we'll have a go at the prunes."
"Runes," Grimm said.
"Whatever. You're really quite skinny, Grimm, and I think you need to put some meat on your bones. 'Specially if you're serious about all these battles you're going to fight. You wouldn't last ten seconds, the state you're in now."
Madar tried to wink, although he ended up just screwing up one side of his face.
Grimm giggled, nodded and addressed the serious business of tackling the heaped plate in front of him.
Chapter 14: Politics
Thorn Virias, the mighty Mage Questor and Prelate of Arnor House, was deep in mortal combat with nothing more fearsome than a stack of papers. Anybody who imagined the life of Prelate of a Guild House was a glamorous sinecure, he thought, was either a fool or misinformed.
The tale told by the papers was depressing. The intake of paying Students was down over the last year by a fifth; that would make the House budget tight. Almost as bad was the fact that there was only one new charity case this year: the Afelnor boy. Thorn couldn't very well attempt to make Questors of fee-paying pupils, not when their parents were the kind of civic dignitaries who could make life very difficult for him indeed, if word ever reached them that their darling child had not been treated in accordance with his high social standing.
Some of the boys' fathers were Guild Mages themselves; some of them were even High Lodge incumbents. Some of the application letters made it plain that Arnor House had not been their first choice, which worried Thorn. He yearned for more Questors, but he knew he could not forge such mages from the sons of wealthy parents who might well know the risks involved in the Questor Ordeal.
Thorn remembered only too well the long months of his own Ordeal, and he hated his mother for having allowed him to undergo it, even if it had made a Mage Questor of him. The wealth and status he had earned from a lifetime's Quests had not assuaged that feeling in the least.
Nonetheless, a good Questor was worth a hundred pampered, well-paying Students, no matter how long they remained in the Scholasticate. Thorn had little compunction about putting yet another Student through the same Ordeal that he had so unwillingly undergone.
It was a fine line to walk. He might have few scruples about putting a hundred boys through the Ordeal in order to gain one new Questor, but High Lodge would have their eyes upon him. As Prelate of Arnor House, he could argue that the risk was worth the reward, but only so far. He was meant to have the welfare of all of his flock at heart, and a reputation for callousness might hurt irrevocably his prospects of election to the post of Dominie. No matter that he felt forced onto that road by Lizaveta's insatiable, vicarious drives; if he were ever to become the Dominie, it would be on his own terms.
Thorn never missed a chance to fulfil High Lodge's requests, regardless of the risk to the mages that he so willingly dispatched to aid in some High Lodge Quest or Great Spell. It was easy to justify this aid as being for the good of the whole Guild.
Nevertheless, although Weatherworkers were occasionally called upon to relieve drought or famine in some Guild demesne, and good Readers were in some demand for the successful completion of Great Spells, High Lodge often demanded Questors for such activities, and Thorn had precious few of these to spare.
Arnor House had but three Questors: Olaf, Xylox and Dalquist.
Olaf was approaching his century, and too old to withstand the rigours of the trail. Dalquist, his youngest Questor, was still only a First Rank Mage, and it might take some time before he became accepted.
Xylox, who carried the Guild cognomen 'the Mighty', was still in his thirties, and he was well-respected by Lord Dominie Horin. Thorn had proposed the powerful Questor for the most difficult and dangerous Quests High Lodge had to offer, so as to raise Arnor House's profile in the eyes of the Dominie. So far, the mage had been successful, and the Prelate trusted he would continue to be so.
It was good that Xylox had proved so competent in this role, but the House had Quests of its own to fulfil. It was never known when a Questor might be needed to foment covert insurrection in some hostile region, to abstract some item from its current owner or to carry out some political assassination. However, High Lodge tended to risk its own mages only in hours of great need, and Thorn was only too happy to volunteer the services of his own.
The Prelate hated politics, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to juggle the demands of High Lodge, so that his status with the ruling body could be improved, along with that of his own Presidium. This should increase Arnor House's wealth and prominence, so that his standing with regard to the rest of the Guild remained good.
High Lodge might have the casting vote on electing the next Dominie, but it would be a bold High Lodge Conclave that chose to ignore the opinions of the individual Houses who, after all, were the ultimate source of that august institution's vast wealth and power.
The new Questor, Dalquist Rufior, had performed well on his first Quest. The former Lord Grall of Shelt had been abstracted from his well-guarded fortress, with only a few casualties among his more zealous guards and delivered, trembling, to his brother Burres. Within a day, Grall's head had been placed on a spike and Burres had been declared the Duke of Shelt. Arnor now had free passage through the town, and a Duke who was far more receptive to Thorn's requests.
As if by providence, the green scrying crystal on his oak desk lit, and a familiar mind wound its way into his own.
Thorn drew the crystal towards himself.
Yes, Lord Dominie Horin? he thought.
Lord Prelate Thorn, I offer you greetings! I would like to thank you personally for the recent aid of your Questor, Xylox. Your continuing services to our Guild are appreciated greatly, not least because of the noble efforts of the estimable Questor on our behalf. Xylox has been well rewarded for his valour and your own House's share of the proceeds will be, of course, handsome.
Thorn found this welcome news, and he said so.
We may have another Quest for you in the near future, replied the Dominie. A Questor and a Shapeshifter would be of great benefit to its successful completion. Do you have anybody in mind?
I have a new Questor now: Dalquist Rufior, who has performed well on his first Quest, thought Thorn, with not a little pride, and our latest Neophyte Questor, Erek Garan, is surely very close to the completion of his education. I will be happy to offer their services to our common cause.
I congratulate you on raising another Questor, Thorn. Perhaps we could… Thorn felt a sudden upsurge in the Dominie's emotions.
Your new Questor-I trust he was not responsible for that little incident in Shelt?
The Dominie's mental tone was far from congratulatory, and Thorn wondered if he had overstepped the mark.
Indeed, Lord Dominie. Questor Dalquist may well have transgressed the letter of his orders, but we now have a regime in Shelt, one far more attuned to the needs of the Guild…
Well, thank you very much for that, Thorn, hissed the Dominie's reply. For your information, we at High Lodge already had our collective eye on that particular town. We were in the process of gathering mages together for a Great Spell to persuade Duke Grall to mollify his attitude towards us. Burres is a callow, ambitious upstart who could well destabilise the entire region!
Thorn gulped. He had hoped that the downfall of Grall might gain him compliments rather than angry rebukes.