Savage Empire

Galen frowned in concentration. He was a beautiful boy who had never gone through a period of adolescent awkwardness, perhaps because he had not shot up in height as most boys did. He was still more than a head shorter than Lenardo, slender, younger looking than his years. He had outgrown sickliness in childhood but still looked delicate, ethereal. His hair was reddish blond, his skin pale and faintly freckled, with no trace of beard yet. Perhaps his appearance had caused all the teachers to baby him..

Soon he will be eighteen, and he will be put to the test like any other Reader. I must see that he does not fail.

Deliberately not Reading, so he would not accidentally transmit information to Galen, Lenardo watched the boy's concentration. "There's a big patch of them," Galen said finally, "all edible."

"Very well," said Lenardo, concealing his disappointment, "let's go have a closer look. It's a good thing there are plenty to top off our basket-there's a storm coming."

What Galen had missed was one small patch of death cup mushrooms to the side of the unusually large clump of common edible ones. Perhaps he had not concentrated on them at all, pulling his old trick of deducing what he could not Read. His high intelligence compensated for weak Reading skill in the classroom; it was in the field that Galen's inadequacies showed.

Still not Reading, Lenardo bent beside Galen, gathering the fresh mushrooms, leaving the older stalks. Tonight there would be a casserole of eggs and mushrooms on the refectory table.

According to the lesson, Galen was supposed to be Reading each mushroom as he picked it. Lenardo carefully picked in a pattern that edged Galen toward the poisonous ones. The boy finished plucking all those he could reach, looked around, and moved toward the group of death cups. Lenardo's heart sank. He shouldn't have to go near them to Read they were poisonous!

To Lenardo's horror, Galen reached out and broke off two of the deadly mushrooms.

"Galen!" he exclaimed before the boy could toss them into the basket. "If you're not going to Read, look!"

"But I-" The boy stared at the mushrooms in his hand, turned pale, and then an angry red. "That's not fair! You pushed me this way!"

"Yes, I did," said Lenardo. "I thought you would discover the death cups for yourself, and then I could have praised you. Look-the moment you bothered to use your eyes you saw the fatal cup around the stem."

The boy threw the poisonous mushrooms aside and scrubbed his hand roughly against his robe, fighting down tears. Trying to guide him to make something positive of the experience, Lenardo asked, "What can you learn from this mistake?"

"That I might have poisoned myself and everyone at the academy!" Galen said grimly.

"No," said Lenardo, "you already knew that a Reader's mistake can cost his life or those of others. It is the corollary to that lesson that you refuse to learn, Galen-and that, more than any deficiency in your Reading skill, is what will cause you to fail your final test. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"Know your limitations," Galen quoted.

"Not only know them, but admit them," Lenardo added. "You have many years before you will come to the peak of your Reading skills. No Reader under thirty is yet in full command of his powers."

"I know that," Galen said dully.

"No," Lenardo replied, "you have heard it time and again, but you refuse to know it. And that makes you dangerous. Galen, you knew you were not Reading the mushrooms properly. Any ten-year-old would have had the sense to look at them!"

"I did look!" Galen protested. "I looked when you told me to Read them from behind the trees. They all looked edible!" His vehemence died. "I guess I didn't check every single one," he admitted. "Cook would have caught-" He hung his head. "No, don't say it. That's not the point. I won't let it happen again."

That was the Galen Lenardo loved, able to admit his mistakes and go on.

"Good. Now I want you to practice checking your Reading through your other senses. I do it. Even Master Clement does it. It's only common sense."

"You scold me for doing it in class."

"Galen, don't pretend stupidity. How can you know your limitations if you cheat when we are testing them?"

"Yes, Magister," the boy said resignedly. Lenardo longed to Read what was going on in his mind, but Galen had not invited such scrutiny, and so the Law of Privacy prevailed. But if the boy's sunny enthusiasm continued to disintegrate into these mood swings, how was be to learn the final lessons that would allow him to reach the top ranks of Readers?