are taken seriously. People who are given high office and great responsibility. And people who can take care, not only of themselves, but of those who depend on them, no matter what the situation.'
Now she had Helton's full and unwavering interest, and the hooded eyes had come alive.
'But before that happens, you have a lot of work ahead of you.' She paused, and smiled again. 'You might be wondering why I'm giving you this speech now, instead of when you first came here. The reason is -- now you've had a full season here, and you know what I mean by work. You've had the full experience, as Keth would say. So -- are you ready for three to four more years of it? There's no shame in saying you aren't suited to this, not everyone is, and sometimes parents aren't very good at judging what their children are suited to. Hesten?'
'I'll be back,' the boy said shortly, but with more than enough determination and respect in his voice to please Tarma.
'Larsh?'
'Absolutely.' More anticipation than determination; that was what she had expected. Larsh would have made a good mercenary; he fit in here as well as any boy she'd had.
'Belton?' she asked, turning to the third boy, and was a little surprised at the vehemence of his reply.
'If they couldn't afford to pay you, I'd work in the stable to stay here!' came the fervent answer, and she blinked a little at the passion in his voice.
That corresponded with her feelings about the boy; that he had been holding something back until this moment, testing her and his other teachers, looking for -- what? Some kind of flaw, she suspected. Whatever it was, only he knew, but she had no doubt she would find out.
'Now, back to work,' she decreed. 'There's still plenty of time before supper, and you haven't even broken into a good sweat yet!'
Supper was the best time of the day, so far as Tarma was concerned. Her pupils and Keth's generally ate breakfast and luncheon separately, because the mage-students were on a slightly different schedule and menu. Her students needed a great deal more to eat than the mage-students, and after rising at dawn for a run and a session of strenuous physical exercise, began the day with absolutely enormous breakfasts, then restoked their furnaces with equally enormous luncheons and afternoon snacks. The scholars and mage-students required far less in the way of fuel, some had decided on a purely vegetarian regime for themselves, and in any case, over-full stomachs often got in the way of mental concentration.
But by the time Tarma's pupils cleaned up, the mage-students were also finished for the day, and everyone met together for supper and study or amusement afterward.
Altogether, there were ten pupils in Tarma's school, a round dozen in Keth's, and two that were pure scholars, being taught by Jadrek. One of those was Kira's twin Merili, the other a 'charity student' from their own village, a young boy who lived to learn. Jadrek intended to recommend him as Rethwellan Archivist-in-training when he finished with the child, the current Archivist having no wife or children to follow him. Of Kethry's pupils, one was her own son Jadrek, though it was likely he'd employ his knowledge as a Shin'a'in shaman rather than a White Winds mage -- the shamans being the only Shin'a'in permitted to use magic. Only Jadrie was in Tarma's group; the twins Lyan and Laryn were not particularly interested in fighting, and were learning only the basics every Shin'a'in should know. Like Jadrie, they had decided early that they wanted the Clan and the Plains, but they were completely horse-mad. On their own initiative, during the summer that followed the spring that Jadrie had tamed her first horse, they had secretly picked a pair of two-year-olds out of the Tale'sedrin herds and tamed them without any help at all. The Liha'irden horse-herders had seen them at it, of course, but since they weren't doing anything wrong, they were allowed to carry out their plan. Tarma privately suspected that the herders were very proud of the audacious young twins, though if they'd begun to ruin the horses, they'd have been punished for their audacity.
It was too soon to tell what the latest baby, Jendar, was going to rum out to be like -- Tarma's only clue was that he shack by his mother's side during every lesson, and only toddled off when she turned her hands to anything other than magic.
But with twenty-seven children of various ages crowded around the supper table, the evening meal was a noisy and amusing affair. No rules of silence were invoked, and the children were allowed to talk about anything they pleased and for this one meal, eat or not eat whatever they liked. At the beginning of each season, there were always a few bellyaches when students stuffed themselves with sweets -- one surfeit usually cured them of further foolishness, especially when the next day brought no sympathy, and no break from lessons. The only iron-clad rule was that there were to be no food fights. Tarma and Kethry had both gone without often enough that the idea of wasted food was intolerable. The one and only time that rule had been challenged, Kethry's combined solution and punishment had been swift and effective. The next day, she had scryed out a group of hungry shepherd-children in the hills. When everyone gathered for breakfast, and the savory meal was laid out on the sideboard -- when mouths were watering and appetites roused -- she transported every bit of that hot, tantalizing meal to those children, and presented the school with what the children would have eaten. Stale, hard bread and cheese rinds came as quite a shock to pampered children of noble houses. She did the same at lunch. At dinner, she made it very clear that she was prepared to continue sending their food 'to children who appreciated it' if there was ever a repetition of the incident. The story had been passed to every new student since then, by word of mouth, and Tarma had no doubt
