"I ended up with the same meagre tokens of success you hold, but they mean something to me. They mean I survived: I prevailed against everything they threw at me. To me, that's no small matter.
"Yes, Lord Thorn and the Conclave bigwigs came to my damned party, but I was just glad to be alive and sane. I got drunk, stupidly drunk, but I never once moaned about the malign hand Fate had dealt me. I bear the Guild Ring and I have my Mage Staff, and I'm bloody proud of them-as you should be of yours.
"Still, if you want to wallow in self-pity, go ahead. It's a free world, isn't it?"
Grimm felt astonished by the force of the tirade that had burst from him. Although he had never once raised his voice enough to attract the attention of the other mages in the Refectory, the fiery intensity of his feelings had not been dulled in the least.
Cold guilt began to wash over him; he had been unconscionably hard on Numal, his elder by many years, and he had a fervent hope that he had not alienated the man beyond redemption. His outburst had been unforgivable; he had used the Necromancer almost as a pugilist's punching-bag, using his Questor's iron will like a mailed fist.
"I'm sorry, Numal," he said, his tone conciliatory and regretful. "I had no right to talk to you in that manner. Please accept my deepest apologies."
A long pause followed, and Grimm feared he had gone too far. Xylox had been right; he was too hot-headed. He felt immense relief as Numal proffered a wan smile and shook his head.
"Grimm, I'm so sorry. I had no idea that they could put a boy through that sort of ordeal. You're right. I never had to face hardship like that for a moment. I owe you an apology."
Numal rose to his feet, threw back his hood, and began to sing at top volume. His voice was rich, melodious and full.
"Let's all sing of Daffo the Clown,
"Daffo the Clown, Daffo the Clown!
"Let's all sing of Daffo the Clown, it's always fun when he's around!
"Merriment, pranks and japes surround our friend,
"Daffo the Clown, Daffo the Clown!
"Humorous and cheerful right to the end,
"Daffo the Clown's in town!"
As the other occupants of the Refectory stared in astonishment, Grimm smiled and gave respectful applause while the fearsome-looking Necromancer bowed.
"Please excuse me, gentlemen," he called to the stunned assembly. "That was just a momentary excess of glee at my recent Acclamation; my apologies to you all for disturbing your meditation."
After a few grunts and grimaces, the other mages returned to their former activities.
"Numal," the young mage said, "the House may have gained a mage, but the stage has lost a great talent!"
The older man shrugged. "Whatever I felt in the past is gone, and I can't help it now. I'm a Mage Necromancer. I never wanted to be one, but I guess I'll have to make the most of it. Now, I can go where I want to, when I want to. And we mages live a long, long time."
"We do," Grimm agreed, although he harboured doubts about his own longevity if he had to complete many more Quests as arduous as the two he had already undertaken. "It's a new dawn, my friend."
As if to underline the Questor's words, the first true rays of morning sunlight began to stream through the high windows of the Refectory, and Numal smiled.
"Listen, Numal," Grimm said. "I'm about to leave for a few days at High Lodge. I wonder if you'd like to accompany me; it's a long journey if you're on your own. Would you like that?"
"High Lodge!" Numal breathed. "I've heard it's a spectacular place."
"It is. Do you ride?"
Numal's face contorted in a puzzled frown. "Horses, you mean?" Grimm nodded.
"I'm afraid not," the older man admitted. "My parents tried to teach me, but I was hopeless at it. I haven't had a lot of opportunities to follow it up since then."
"All right, I'll see if I can get Doorkeeper to organise us a cart, or something. Do you want to go?"
"Certainly…" Numal's face turned grave. "Questor Grimm, I don't want to cause offence, but you're not looking for some… special… friend, are you?"
A few moments passed before Grimm understood what the older man meant, and then he laughed. "Numal, my life has been short on friends so far. I like you, but that's all there is to it. All I want is a sociable travelling companion, and I thought you'd benefit from a little time outside when you don't have to listen to an old man talk about how rich he is."
Grimm considered he might have allayed the Necromancer's concern more by telling Numal he had a beautiful girl waiting for him in Crar, but he had good reason to keep that fact hidden. He did find Numal good company, when he wasn't indulging in self-pity, but, more than that, a Necromancer might prove to be an ideal companion in his unofficial Quest to investigate the activities of the Sisters of Divine Serenity. He was now sure that his former temptress, Madeleine, really had been butchered in the crypts of High Lodge, and a man capable of contacting the souls of the dead, however poorly, might be an indispensable asset to this end.
Nonetheless, although Lord Thorn had named this as his next Quest, he had the distinct feeling that he was expected to vouchsafe as little information as possible; it might be better if Numal knew nothing of Grimm's ultimate purpose. He felt guilty about using the fledgling Necromancer in this manner, but he had a personal stake in this Quest.
Grimm faked an expression of exasperation and sighed. "Look, Numal, do you want to go to High Lodge, or not? If not, I'll cope, believe me. Nobody's forcing you, you know. If you want, you can get a room on the other side of the bloody Lodge from me if you're worried about the prospect of me groping your body at night."
Numal waved his hands. "I'm sorry, Questor Grimm. Yes, I would like to see High Lodge, very much. Please, excuse my suspicious mind. I've heard that you Questors are pretty direct, and I'm not used to that. I'll join you."
Grimm kept his tone cool. "Good man. I'll see if I can organise us a wagon, and you can make sure you're not needed here for any pressing reason. Meet me back in the Great Hall in two hours or so."
"You people don't hang about, do you?" the bald mage said. "You couldn't wait 'til tomorrow, could you?"
Grimm realised that he might be pushing things too quickly. He had spoken of friends, and yet he had not spared a thought for his stalwart, reliable allies, Madar and Argand, who had supported him when he had been a callow Student, and who were still immured in the Scholasticate. His friend and fellow Questor, Dalquist, might well be in residence, and it would be the height of ingratitude to ignore him. Did he really want to use Doorkeeper, as other unthinking souls did, as some menial servant, fit only to fulfil his whims and petty demands?
"Of course, Numal," he found himself saying. "Take as long as you need, within reason. I don't have to leave today, I guess I'm just a little taut; I've only been to High Lodge once before, and I don't want to be late."
Numal nodded. "Thank you, Questor Grimm. Shall we meet tomorrow?"
Grimm nodded his agreement, and Numal left the Refectory.
Am I becoming some kind of monster? Grimm asked himself. It's as if I'm becoming so immersed in my calling that I see people as only pawns in some game, to be moved and disposed of as I see fit.
Was he losing his humanity? He felt like an arrow in some great bow, pulled back, ready to be released. It seemed the further he progressed in his craft, the more he was in danger of becoming an automaton, a puppet of the House that had made him what he was. He was a lethal human weapon, and yet Grimm had little idea of his own motivations, no control over his destiny. He moved from situation to situation, crisis to crisis, all for the good of either the Guild or Arnor House. His concern over his grandfather's fate seemed to be only a sideline; when the Prelate, the House, or the Guild called, he came. Anything else, no matter how important it appeared at first, became a mere distraction.