The Grandmaster's Tale

I met Alan and Geraldine on Saturday morning, both looking cranky to have been roused from their beds so early. I didn’t blame them. Friday nights were often wild, with students heading down to town for entertainment or simply staying up late because they didn’t have to get up the following morning. No matter how many charms the two students used to block out the noise, something would get through. Few students would let their roommates sleep early on Friday. Anyone given detention on a Saturday had done something that was really beyond the pale.

“This way,” I said, trying to sound nasty. “Follow me.”

We walked through the grounds, past the arena and out into the forest. The wards faded away as we picked up speed, following a path I’d known in my younger days. I stayed well away from the scene of the crime as we picked our way onto a smaller path, casting a handful of subtle charms to distract and deter anyone who might be following us. I didn’t think it was too likely—everyone thought the two students had detention, with a tutor known to be a harsh taskmaster—but better safe than sorry. The two didn’t grumble as we kept moving. I was oddly impressed. Walter and his cronies would’ve been moaning and groaning by now.

The pathway widened, suddenly, into a clearing. Mistress Constance, Lady Pepper and a handful of other students stood there, waiting for us. I sensed my two students tense as they realised we weren’t alone, alarm running through their minds as it dawned on them matters were more serious than they’d thought. I mentally kicked myself for not warning them that other students would be coming. But there hadn’t been time.

“We have a lot to learn and not much time,” Lady Pepper said. She might not be the best combat sorcerer in the world, but she was one of the best instructors. The really talented sorcerers often found it hard, if not impossible, to teach students how to follow in their footsteps. Boscha, damn the man, had made noises about hiring someone better. I suspected he was wasting his time. There might be sorcerers who could best her in a fight, but not do better when it came to teaching. “Are you ready?”

Alan shot her a challenging look. “Can you make us better than them?”

“No,” Lady Pepper said, flatly. “I can give you the tools to make you better, but it is you who will have to do the work. If you don’t …”

I smiled at her lecture. I’d heard it before. Most sorcerers aren’t lazy, perish the thought, but there is a certain indolence around them that means they can be bested by someone who thinks on his feet. Formal duelling contests are judged by presentation, by who can cast the most dramatic spell, while real fighting is judged by who puts the other down first. You can win a duel and still lose if the judges insist you broke a rule, while there are no rules in real fighting. Get down, get dirty and don’t show any mercy as long as your opponent can still hurt you. Rest assured, he will do the same to you.

Boscha has never been in a real fight, I reminded myself. And neither has Walter.

Alan nodded, when she’d finished. “Yes, My Lady.”

I nodded, too, although I feared the future. Alan was smart and stubborn and given the right training and experience would be a match for anyone. I hoped that wouldn’t become a problem, later on. I was putting a lot of power in hands that hadn’t held any power, relatively speaking, and might not be mature enough to cope with it. Geraldine, too, I feared. It wouldn’t be the first time a newborn magician had gone home and reacted badly to something she would have ignored years ago. I knew one girl who’d turned her entire family into toads, for a real—or imagined—slight. Alan could be just as bad, if I gave him the chance. But if I didn’t …

“Good,” Pepper said. If she had any reservations, she kept them to herself. “Let us begin.”

Chapter 5

It was a fun couple of hours.

Lady Pepper was good at her job, and she had two other experienced magicians to help her. I didn’t mind showing something of what I could do and allowing myself to make mistakes—the kind of mistakes my old instructor would have hexed me for making—so she could demonstrate how to take best advantage of them. It helped that our nine students were smart enough to realise the mistakes weren’t real, that we’d worked out in advance what sort of mistakes I could make that would be credible. I knew at least one instructor who’d gotten pissy, not without reason, when his senior forgot to make it clear the mistakes hadn’t been real. The poor guy had been sore for weeks afterwards.

“Master Hasdrubal tried to be fancy,” Pepper said, as I picked myself off the ground. “The spell he wanted to use takes too long to cast, if one is standing in the open. He gave me all the time I needed to strike him first, with a simple but nasty spell. And if you’re unlucky, you get worse for grandstanding than being knocked on your ass.”