The Outcast (Summoner #4)(12)
“Right, that’s enough for one day. I’m your provost, not your teacher,” Obadiah said, shaking his head as if surprised he had shared so much.
“Thank you, Lord Forsyth,” Arcturus said, holding out his hand. “I look forward to learning more. May I ask, would it be possible for you to take me back to Sacharissa and then show me how to find the baths?”
“I’m not your servant, insolent boy,” Obadiah snapped, ignoring the hand and stamping out of the room. “We can collect your demon because it’s on the way, but there’s no time for a bath now; you’ll have to wait until later. It’s breakfast time. All the students are there. It’s time for you to meet them.…”
CHAPTER
7
OBADIAH LED ARCTURUS TO the dining hall, taking him into the atrium and beneath the carved archway. Sacharissa paced protectively beside them, sniffing with excitement as they passed through the doors and the scent of food pervaded the air.
The room was filled with low stone tables, surrounded by a dozen servants who scurried around with platters of food. Some of them were dwarves, with thick braided beards and long ponytails. Ulfr was among them, marked out by a purple bruise that must have blossomed on his forehead overnight.
An enormous statue dominated the center of the room: an armored man with a powerful build and short beard. His stony gaze seemed to fix on Arcturus, following him as he walked deeper into the room. The level of detail was extraordinary, as if a giant had been turned to stone.
Despite the size of the dining hall, only a few tables were occupied, with an assortment of boys and girls who had turned to stare at them. Arcturus could see bacon and eggs piled high, the rich scent filling his nostrils and flooding his mouth with saliva.
“Good morning, students,” Obadiah said, striding ahead of Arcturus to stand beside them. He paused, looking at them expectantly.
“Good morning, Provost Forsyth, sir,” the students echoed back dutifully, though the tone was one of exasperation rather than respect.
“I would like to introduce you to our newest student.…” He paused, and Arcturus realized that Charles Faversham was seated with the others, staring at him with hatred in his eyes. “Ah, I see that Charles has arrived at last. Has he filled you in?”
There were several nods from the table and Obadiah smiled.
“In that case, I shall give you a brief summary of the events that have led to a commoner joining Vocans. On his way here, Charles mislaid his summoning scroll. It was stolen by young Arcturus here.”
Charles shifted in his seat uncomfortably before shooting Arcturus another malicious look. Arcturus realized that the young noble must have neglected to mention that part in his version of the story. Obadiah didn’t seem to notice Charles’s embarrassment and carried on blithely.
“By some quirk of nature, he was able to summon the demon Lord Faversham had captured for Charles. After proper interrogation, King Alfric decided that it would be in Hominum’s best interest to train the boy.”
One of the nobles stood up, a tall, heavyset lad with a square jaw and a cap of blond curls.
“Father, how is this possible?” the boy asked, giving Arcturus a disdainful look. “The gift is passed through the blood; it is not some randomly occurring ability.”
“Do not interrupt, Zacharias,” Obadiah said mildly, pushing him back into his seat. “But you have cut right to the heart of the matter. King Alfric has posed that very question to me. In fact, I have another announcement to make. I will be leaving Vocans as provost, short though my tenure has been here. The king has requested that I lead an investigation, to find out whether Arcturus is a freak or if there are others like him out there.”
Arcturus looked from Obadiah to Zacharias, suddenly seeing the family resemblance between them. The provost’s son’s face had become crestfallen, before twisting into a scowl as his eyes fell on Arcturus.
“Being provost is far more important. This task is beneath you, Father,” Zacharias muttered.
“You think you know better than your king?” Obadiah asked, giving his son a withering look. “Prince Harold, why do you think your father has sent me away?”
Arcturus’s heart leaped in his chest as a pale-haired boy with piercing gray eyes stood. His brow was ringed by a silver circlet, studded with rubies. The king’s own son was studying at the academy.
“Lord Forsyth, the reasons are threefold. The first is that in the last dwarven rebellion, the noble families suffered several deaths, and this could happen again if the ongoing altercations with the orcs become any worse. With commoners to swell our ranks, we will be able to take fewer risks, giving the more dangerous missions to them.”
Charles smiled at the prince’s words and whispered in Zacharias’s ear. Arcturus heard the words “meat shields.”
“Very good, Harold. The second?”
“With commoners capable of summoning demons, they become a threat to us. By keeping them close, we limit their ability to cause us harm.” The prince spoke matter-of-factly, though he avoided Arcturus’s gaze, as if ashamed of his words. “This threat has grown of late, ever since my father increased taxes to cover our recent expenses.”
“Excellent! Now, explain the most obvious reason to my idiot son, so he learns to keep his trap shut,” Obadiah said, narrowing his eyes at his son. Zacharias’s face flushed red and he twisted his hands in his lap.