from what you said.”
“I’m sure I probably gleaned it from someone else.”
“I don’t think so, sir. There’s nothing like it in any of the chorister books.” Gauswn paused. “I mustn’t keep you, and Cyrethyn needs my help. I did want to come and thank you again. This is where I should be.”
“Before you go,” said Quaeryt, “you should meet my wife, Vaelora.”
Gauswn bowed deeply. “Lady…”
Quaeryt smiled at Vaelora and eased away.
After he entered the master scholar’s study, he took one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Let’s see the ledger, Yullyd.”
“Here, sir.” The scholar princeps handed the master ledger he had carried to Quaeryt, then took the other seat. “The marker is where the entries for Ianus are summarized. I finished them on Lundi.”
Nalakyn slipped into the chair behind the desk, but sat forward, apprehensively.
“Is there someone you can train to do the day-to-day entries?”
“Young Syndar has been helping me.” Yullyd’s voice was level.
Quaeryt wasn’t surprised. From the time he’d delivered a letter from Syndar’s father Rhodyn, he’d known that the student scholar would likely try anything not to leave the scholarium. “His father wants him to go back to Ayerne? Is that it?”
“He says he won’t go, and that his younger brother is far better suited to being a holder.”
“That’s likely true, but it’s not our decision.” Quaeryt frowned. “How good a scholar is Syndar? Would he make a good bursar in time?”
“He’s very accurate with the figures, and very neat,” replied Yullyd. “He truly wants to be a scholar.”
“He also assists in teaching the younger students. He’s been most helpful there,” added Nalakyn.
“Draft a missive to Holder Rhodyn for my signature. Make it very polite and most courteous. Tell him that I know of his desires and wishes for his sons, but I had thought he would like to know that I have learned that Scholar Syndar has proven to be exceedingly gifted as a scholar and is being considered for training as the bursar of the scholarium and that he has a future as a scholar. Because of this, tell him that I had thought he would like to know of this before making any final decision on what might be best for his sons.” Quaeryt paused. “Write that up as soon as we finish. I’ll wait for it.”
The two exchanged glances.
“I can send it tomorrow. Otherwise, it will be another week. I want him to get it before his mind is even more set and before it’s even close to spring planting.”
During the winter, now that Bhayar had destroyed the last of the ship reavers, couriers from Tilbora could take the coastal roads directly south, well past Ayerne, and then turn west through Piedryn on a more direct southern route to Solis. There was no reason Quaeryt couldn’t pay the courier out of his own funds to stop and deliver the missive to Rhodyn-the holding house was less than fifty yards off the road.
Yullyd nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Sir … we have … some difficulty,” said Nalakyn.
“What kind of difficulty?”
“Ah…” Nalakyn drew out the single syllable, as if he were at a loss for words.
“Chartyn,” said Yullyd. “He’s not the problem. The fact that we accepted him is.”
“There’s another factor with an imager son?” asked Quaeryt.
“Actually … well … ah…”
“Yes,” said Yullyd. “He’s not a factor. He’s a freeholder to the north. One of those with not enough lands to be a High Holder and too well off to be a mere grower or crofter. He heard about Chartyn. He’s well able to pay for his son.”
“I fail to see the problem. Has Chartyn created any difficulties?”
“No, sir … but … imagers in a scholarium?” asked Nalakyn almost plaintively.
“There are imagers in the Scholarium Solum in Solis. Why shouldn’t there be imagers here?”
“We don’t have any rules for imagers, sir,” said the master scholar.
“Would it help if I wrote out a draft of some rules? I knew the imagers at the scholarium fairly well, and they did tell me some things.”
“But … this is a scholarium…”
Quaeryt looked hard at Nalakyn, feeling almost like imaging his disgust and anger.
The master scholar paled … then swallowed. His voice was barely audible as he replied. “Whatever you say, sir.”
“Nalakyn,” Quaeryt said gently, “I went out of my way to save the scholarium when most of Tilbora was ready to burn it and all of you because of what Zarxes, Phaeryn, and Chardyn-oh, and Alkiabys-were doing. Lord Bhayar and Telaryn need safe places for both scholars and imagers. Not just scholars. Not just imagers. Both.”
Yullyd glanced at Nalakyn.
“I understand, sir, It’s just that…”
“We all have to change with the times. I wouldn’t be surprised if, in a few years”-
“You mean if Rex Kharst conquers Antiago and captures the Autarch’s imagers?” asked Yullyd.
“That’s certainly a possibility,” agreed Quaeryt. “It would be useful to have some imagers who could create Antiagon Fire or combat it.” Not that Quaeryt had any idea of how to do that himself.
“How … would they combat it?”
“Image sand over it, I suspect. That usually damps most fires, even bitumen fires.” That was a guess on Quaeryt’s part, but he thought it would work, since stone and earthworks were impervious to Antiagon Fire. “I’ll have those draft rules to you within a week, sooner if I can. Tell the holder-what’s his name … his son’s name, too?”
“His name is Kryedt. The boy’s name is Dettredt.”
“Tell Holder Kryedt that the boy is accepted, under the usual provisions requiring good conduct and obedience to scholars.”
“Yes, sir,” replied both scholars. While Nalakyn’s tone was not quite resigned, Yullyd’s was more enthusiastic.
“Now … I’ll wait outside in the main hall while you draft that letter to Holder Rhodyn.”
Quaeryt stepped out to rejoin Vaelora, noting several students hurrying away as he neared. One he knew- Lankyt.
“What did young Lankyt have to say to you, dearest?” asked Quaeryt quietly, not wishing his voice to carry beyond Vaelora.
“Which one was he? The slim brown-haired one with the shy smile?”
“How did you know that?”
“I didn’t, but you wouldn’t have known who he was unless he stood out in some way. He was the most respectful and well-spoken.”
“His father is the holder in Ayerne.”
“Rhodyn, is it?”
“Yes. He was most kind when I escaped the ship reavers and was recovering.”
“He spoke highly of you when we spent the night there.”
“He’s a good man. I just hope…” Quaeryt went on to explain.
Vaelora listened, then nodded. “You’re offering a strong suggestion, but not demanding.” She smiled mischievously. “You are suggesting, between the lines, that he’d be a fool not to agree.”
“What else could I do?”
“You could let him do as he pleases without saying a word … but that’s not who you are. You’ve proved that in dealing with my brother.”
Quaeryt shrugged.
“The chorister? Gauswn … he was most complimentary. Is he the one who was an undercaptain?”
“He was.”
