Keeping her attention on Kallen, she watched him approach. He stared back at her, face impassive. She had not been as dedicated in watching Kallen as he had been at monitoring her. It was not so easy, when you had a son to raise and hospices to run. But she effected an air of attentive watchfulness whenever Kallen was around, hoping it would reassure the few magicians to whom it may have occurred that he needed monitoring as much as the former exiled slum girl who had risen to a powerful position too early and far beyond what she deserved.
A pause in the murmur of voices around her brought her attention back to Administrator Osen.
“Novice Director Narren is in Elyne and the King’s Advisers will not be attending,” he told them. “Since the rest of us are present, we may as well begin.”
The Higher Magicians followed him through the side entrance of the Guildhall and moved to their places. Seats had been built in steep tiers at the end of the room, the higher status positions at the top and the lesser at floor level. Sonea climbed to her place beside High Lord Balkan and watched as the doors at the far end were opened and the room filled with magicians. Two small groups gathered on either side of what was considered the front of the hall – the space before the Higher Magicians. One would be the petitioners, the other the opposition. The rest of the magicians moved to seats on either side of the hall.
Osen began the Hearing as soon as all were settled.
“I call on Lord Pendel, leader of the petitioners, to state their case.”
A handsome young man, whose father ran a large metalworking business, stepped forward.
“When allowances were made for men and women of the lower classes of Imardin to enter the Guild two decades ago, many wise and practical rules were set down,” Pendel began, reading from a piece of paper clutched in his hand. “But such an unexpected and necessarily rushed change to Guild practices included, not surprisingly, a few rules that have proven, in time, to be impractical.”
The young man’s voice was steady and clear, Sonea noted approvingly. He was a good choice as spokesman for the petitioners.
“One such rule states that novices and magicians must not associate with criminals or people of low repute,” Pendel continued. “While there have been cases where novices have deservedly been removed from the Guild and denied access to magic due to continued association with unsavoury individuals or groups in the city, there are many more cases where the interpretation of this rule has led to injustice. In the last twenty years the latter cases have shown that the general interpretation of ‘low repute’ includes anyone of common beginnings. This has unfairly kept fathers and mothers apart from their sons and daughters, causing unnecessary grief and resentment.”
Pendel paused to look around the room. “This rule paints the Guild as a hypocritical institution, as there have been no cases of higher-class magicians being punished for breaking this rule, despite them frequently being seen visiting gaming houses, brazier houses and brothels.”
He looked up at the Higher Magicians and smiled nervously.
“Despite this, we do not request that the higher-class magicians and novices be more closely watched and restricted. We only ask that the existing rule be abolished so that those of us born in the lower classes be able to visit our family and friends without penalty.” He bowed. “Thank you for hearing our petition.”
Osen nodded, then turned to the other small gathering of magicians standing to one side of the front.
“I call on Lord Regin, as speaker for the opposers, to come forward and respond.”
As a man emerged from the opposition, Sonea felt an old dislike stir. With it came memories of being taunted and tricked, of having her work being sabotaged, of being regarded as a thief after a stolen pen had been found in her possession, and of being the object of speculation when vicious rumours spread that her relationship with Rothen was more than just that of novice and teacher.
Those memories brought anger, but there were others that still made her shudder. Memories of being hunted through the corridors of the University, of being cornered by a gang of novices, of being tortured, humiliated and left magically and physically exhausted.
The leader of that gang, and mastermind of all her suffering in those early years at the University, had been Regin. Though she had challenged and beaten him in a fair fight in the Arena, though he had bravely risked his life during the Ichani Invasion, and though he had even apologised for all that he had done to her, she could not look at him without feeling an echo of the humiliation and fear she had once endured. And those emotions brought anger and dislike.
I ought to get over it, she thought. But I’m not sure I can. Just as I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling smug whenever one of the magicians from the Houses is introduced without his or her family name and title announced.
Along with the decision to accept entrants to the Guild from outside the Houses, it had been decided that family and House names would no longer be used during Guild ceremonies. All who became magicians were expected to risk their lives to defend the Allied Lands, so all should be shown the same level of respect. Since Imardians born outside the Houses had no family or House name, the habit of stating those names for those who did was abandoned completely.
If Regin felt belittled by the omission of his family and House name, he did not show any sign of it. He was not at all unsettled by the attention that turned to him either. He almost looked bored. He carried no notes to read from, but simply scanned the room once and then began to speak.
“Before considering if this rule should be changed or abolished, we ask that all remember why it was created. Not to prevent good people from visiting their family, or even to spoil a harmless evening’s entertainment, but to prevent magicians of any origin or standing being drawn into criminal acts or employment. The rule is a deterrent as much as it is a guideline for behaviour. To abolish it would be to lose a valuable motivation for magicians to resist those who seek to recruit or corrupt them.”
As Regin continued, Sonea regarded him thoughtfully. She remembered the young novice who had risked his life to bait an Ichani during the invasion. Since the Ichani Invasion he had been nothing but respectful around her, and occasionally he’d even spoken out in support of her.
So Rothen thinks Regin’s character has improved, she thought. I still wouldn’t trust Regin though, knowing what he was like as a novice. I’m sure, if he learned that I had met with a Thief who had snuck into the grounds of the Guild itself, he’d be the first to report me for breaking this rule.
“It is up to the Higher Magicians to interpret whether a character is criminal or of low repute, and we should leave it that way,” Regin said. “Instead of abolishing the rule, we should be more thorough and fair in investigating the activities of all novices and magicians.”
The annoying thing is, he has a point, she thought. Abolishing the rule will make it harder to stop magicians involving themselves in underworld plots. But the Guild is not applying the rule consistently enough to have much effect. It’s next to useless as a deterrent because the rich novices know it’s not going to be enforced in their case. If we get rid of it we’ll stop wasting time and attention on novices whose mothers are whores, and then, perhaps, we’ll start looking a bit harder at those magicians whose rich families have dealings with Thieves.