and willpower. Do you think that, one day, you could become such a man, Grimm Afelnor?'
'I don't know, Lord Prelate.'
'Look into my eyes, child,' said Thorn softly. Grimm reluctantly raised his head, and he saw for the first time the face of the Prelate. Heavy eyebrows hung like hovering birds of prey over a pair of amber eyes that seemed to burn like coals, windows to the mighty will blazing within.
Grimm forced himself to lock his gaze upon Thorn's eyes, suppressing the strong urge to look away. After a few moments, the boy's eyes began to water, but he let the tears run down his cheeks unchecked.
After it seemed as if an age had passed, Thorn nodded.
'That is good. You have willpower, one of the most important attributes of a mage. You have self-control: that is another. However, it will take more, much more, to become a mage. If I do decide to accept you as Student, it will be on harsh terms.
'Most Students within this House are here because their families have money and influence. They may leave at any time, with no penalty save a financial consideration. If accepted, you will be taken in as a charity case. If we decide that you have not given of your best at any time, you may be required to remit the cost of your schooling in any capacity that we may decide, as a scullion or other menial for as long as we require. This will not normally be for a period of less than twenty years, due to the great expense that the House will have lavished on you.
'This is no ordinary school, young Afelnor. Some labour for decades to carry the staff and ring that denote a true mage. The majority fall by the wayside, having learnt a few trifling competencies and nothing more. A paying Student may leave at any time, whereas you will be required to stay here as long as we may deem fit, in order to reclaim the effort that we have put into your education. We are talking of many years of struggle, Grimm Afelnor.
'Before I accept you as Student, I ask you to think of the years ahead of you. Will you give your heart and your soul to us, to use as we see fit? You are young, and you can have no concept of the gulf of time ahead of you.
'Nevertheless, we require your word and your bond to give us your all. Will you serve this House and this Guild with all your heart?'
Grimm stifled a sob. From what little he could understand of the Prelate's speech, it seemed that Lord Thorn had told him he might never, ever see his home again. To a seven-year-old child, this talk of years of effort seemed an eternity of loneliness, a vast empty chasm separating him from everything he had known. However, his grandfather, the gentle, loving man who had brought him up for all the time he could remember, had pleaded with tearful eyes for Grimm to submit to the will of the Guild for as long as was necessary.
Although Grimm recognised that Granfer Loras had his best interests at heart, the prospect of an uncertain future weighed on him heavily. He had to admit, even to himself, that to succeed to his grandfather's position might have been difficult, but, in truth, Grimm had found much of the fetching and carrying in the smithy too hard for him. Although he possessed a certain wiry strength, he lacked the more solid musculature and bone structure that might make a competent smith of him in later life.
He preferred the company of books to that of other children, and only Granfer had understood when Grimm had talked of the colours that he could sometimes see around people when they were happy, sad, lying or speaking the truth. He had even helped Grimm to recognise better the colours invoked by various emotions and moods. It was shortly after Grimm had first mentioned the colours that Granfer had begun to speak of Grimm entering the Guild.
Grimm knew what his grandfather wanted for him and, even if the road might be hard, it was enough for the boy to know that it was what Granfer Loras wanted.
Swallowing hard in an attempt to dislodge the lump in his throat, Grimm spoke. 'Yes, Lord Prelate, I promise to do my best for the Guild for as long as you want. I will try my hardest to make you and my grandfather proud of me.'
Thorn ran his hand through his greasy, thinning hair and bowed his head for a moment, plainly deep in thought. For a hopeful heartbeat or two, Grimm wondered if the Prelate intended to send him back home, but Lord Thorn's next words robbed him of this hope.
'Grimm Afelnor, you are hereby accepted into the Ancient and Honourable Guild of Magic-users, Sorcerers and Thaumaturges as a Student in this House,' droned Lord Thorn, as if reciting a litany. 'You will receive whatever training and education the Presidium of this House may see fit to bestow upon you.
'In return, you will diligently and enthusiastically comply with all instructions and orders given by your superiors, and with all the rules and ordinances of the House, which will be duly explained to you. No visitors will be allowed during your training, save by my specific permission. That is all. Doorkeeper!'
The major-domo must have been waiting outside the door, since he swiftly entered the room.
'Afelnor is accepted as Student, Doorkeeper. Take him to the Scholasticate and instruct him in the ways of the House. That is all.'
Doorkeeper bowed and motioned Grimm to follow suit, whereupon the old mage swept the child out of the room.
After the door had shut and the footsteps had faded, Thorn took a bottle of liquor from a drawer and drank deeply, calming his nerves.
The power in the child's eyes had reminded him too much of Loras Afelnor's intense gaze. Taking up the scrying-crystal, he summoned the Head of the Scholasticate, Urel Shelit, to his room.
'Greetings, Lord Prelate.'
'Greetings to you also, Senior Magemaster Urel. I have a new charity Student, Grimm Afelnor by name. He joins us today.'
Urel raised his eyebrows. 'Afelnor, you say. Surely it cannot be his son?'
'His grandson, in fact,' Thorn drawled, as if such an event happened every day.
'He has power within him, of course, or I would not have accepted him into the House. You know the rules, Urel. Under such circumstances I could scarcely have rejected him, whatever his antecedents.'
'Of course, Lord Thorn, I understand completely.'
'How very perspicacious of you,' Thorn replied acidly. The earlier communication with his mother had left him somewhat dyspeptic; or, perhaps the drink he had consumed the night before had had more effect on him than he had thought.
Collecting himself, he apologised. 'I am sorry, Urel, I should not have spoken to you in that manner. I have a lot on my mind at present.'
'No apology is necessary, Lord Thorn. We all know the responsibilities of your position place a great burden upon your shoulders.'
'Thank you for your understanding, Senior Magemaster. I wish it understood that young Afelnor is a Student like any other, and I do not wish him to be victimised for the acts of his grandfather.
'He is here to learn and, good fortune permitting, to progress to the limits of his abilities and skills. He seems intelligent and respectful, and I do not imagine that you are likely to find him problematic within the Scholasticate.
'Doorkeeper is with him at present. Kindly assign the boy a cell in the Charity Wing and ensure that the Magemasters are all aware that he is to be treated as any other charity Student. He belongs to you now, and I trust that, one day, you will have cause to be proud of him.'
'Lord Thorn, I would never tolerate victimisation of any of my young Students. I will ensure that he is treated according to his abilities and achievements and not according to his ancestry.'
Apparently realising he was speech-making, Urel cleared his throat and returned to the matter in hand. 'I will put him in Cell 17, Lord Prelate. I would be grateful if you could relay that to Doorkeeper. I will inform the Magemasters of the new arrival immediately upon leaving your office.'
Thorn put his hand to his temple and muttered a phrase. 'It is done, Senior Magemaster. Now, will you sit for a while and accept a glass of Lurian brandy? I have here a particularly good example of its type. I receive so few callers here in person.'
'I would be delighted to share your liquor with you for a while, Lord Prelate. I have not tasted that particular
