Chapter 299: Painful Observations
Painful Observations
Another Malday, another lesson spent whacking the other fire acolytes with his staff. He could do it purely on routine, giving Martel time to think about his meeting tonight with Sparrow. If she refused, should he keep trying to persuade her? It seemed an obvious decision to him, choosing education and safety over her current precarious situation, but he could not fault her for being afraid of wizards. Perhaps he should have Flora speak with her. Meeting another mage, a woman who shared Sparrow's particular affinity, might work better to assuage the girl's fears.
On the other hand, perhaps Sparrow would jump at the chance, and Martel would not have to think more about it. He would find out tonight.
Before that, his second combat lesson awaited. As Martel and the elemental mages stood waiting for the class to begin, he heard Edward groan.
"What is it?"
The other acolyte simply nodded, and Martel looked in that direction. Moira had appeared, taking a seat on the stands. Another round of elemental mages versus mageknights awaited, with the threat of detention if they failed, if Martel remembered correctly. He did not have time for that, neither tonight nor any other. Besides meeting Sparrow, he had the invitation from Lady Pearl, and any remaining evenings were best spent working on his Sindhian magic.
"We should do like last time," Martel told the others. "William and I provide a defensive line. You two handle the offence."
"Fine." Harriet sounded irritated, but she agreed to the strategy all the same.
Reynard bade them take positions. "Begin!"
Eight mageknights rushed forward. Several of them took direct hits, stopping or slowing them down. Martel stepped forward with his staff, using its reach to provide a threat alongside his defensive shield spell as needed. Behind him, fire bolts flew through the air when an opening presented itself.
Yet despite Martel's best efforts, his skills in weapons could not compete with those of a mageknight. And rather than focus all their efforts on him, one of them simply closed the distance and pushed all the way up against Martel. It did not knock him out of the fight, but it hemmed him in while other warriors slipped past him to engage Harriet and Edward behind. Their strategy outdone, the fire acolytes quickly lost.
With expressions ranging from defeat to fury, the elemental mages stared at each other. "So much for your defensive line," Harriet sneered at Martel. She had a bruise on her forehead where the pommel of a sword had taken her down.
"Judging by earlier today, you would not have done any better," he snapped back.
"It was always going to go this way," William declared. "They're twice our number. As soon as they figured out what we were doing, it was simple for them to outmanoeuvre us."
"Well, I don't hear any ideas from you," Martel retorted with frustration in his voice.
"I can't handle detention again," Edward whimpered. He held his hands on his stomach as if it ached, perhaps in anticipation of future agony. "I get it every fiveday."
"It’s a wonder you haven't gotten used to it by now," Harriet scoffed.
"Enough talk!" Reynard shouted, interrupting them. "Ready to go again!"
***
Regardless of his troubles with his lessons, Martel had a promise to keep. He would deal with detention when it actually happened; Moira had not said anything to them after the lesson had ended.
Thus, he set out from the castle, walking towards the copper lanes. As he did, he considered how exactly to go about bringing Sparrow in. They would want to test her, of course; he could not expect they would simply take Martel's word for it. The right person to see would be Mistress Juliana, presumably. By the time they got back, hopefully she would still be awake. Martel could take Sparrow straight to her chamber and explain the situation.
Reaching the alley, Martel found himself the same spot to sit as last night. He might have to wait a while. He should have brought a herb to practise his Sindhian magic, come to think of it. He wondered if he plucked one of the weeds growing in the dirt, he might use that instead.
"Hey."
That was fast. Perhaps she had been waiting for him. Martel turned to look at Sparrow. "Hey yourself. Did you think about my suggestion? Or do you have any more questions for me?"
Even before she answered, Martel could tell from her expression that he had failed. "I'm staying here."
She spoke nothing further but immediately retreated. Martel got on his feet, but before he could say anything to change her mind, another small shape appeared from the dark.
"You heard her. And don't ever try to steal one of my people again." Weasel spoke with such frost in his voice, Martel could scarcely believe someone so young could express cold hatred in this manner.
"She's not a dog you own. If you cared about her at all, you’d want her to take the life the Lyceum offers."
"But that would turn her into a dog exactly, wouldn't it? One of the Empire's hounds." Weasel looked up and down at Martel's robes as if offended by the red clothing of a battlemage. "No, Sparrow belongs with me."
"You knew all along she has magic," Martel shot back. "I bet she's the best at picking locks in your whole crew. Just one touch, and she can open anything. No wonder you want to keep her for yourself, even if it means she must starve and freeze."
"She gets food and a place to sleep in safety!" Weasel's voice and expression flared with fury. "And what she brings home helps provide the same for the others. But you don't care about any of them, do you? You never gave them a thought. You'd let the rest of us starve to death if you could get your hands on the one person you think has value." He spat on the ground.
Martel's retort died in his throat.
"Don't ever come back here, wizard. You're not welcome in our home." The little chief turned around and marched back into the alley.
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