The Miscreant (26 page)

Garran fled into the hallway. “Help! Everyone to the recovery ward! We need help!”

The same attendant whom Garran spoke to earlier raced down the hall. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Dear God, it’s like something out of a nightmare! There’s puke everywhere! Get everyone to the recovery ward. Bring mops and buckets, quickly!”

The few attendants and the physic on duty raced down the hall toward the commotion. Garran waded past them, found the infirmary’s administration section, and darted into a room filled with books, ledgers, and stacks of papers. He located the most recent additions and browsed the sign-in sheets and physic’s notes. It did not take long for him to find what he was searching for, as both references were made within a day of each other.

Garran left the disaster he created behind him and did not give it another thought as he headed across campus. He found Toby waiting for him near his cabin, standing next to a cart filled with a variety of tools and components needed to perform the afternoon’s tasks.

“You’re late.”

“You’re supposed to be a lunatic, so don’t break character by caring about the time.”

Toby grinned. “Fair enough! Grab the cart.”

The afternoon consisted of Garran’s least favorite activities. He and Toby dredged several ponds and dug weeds out from between the flagstone walkways. Garran actually enjoyed some of the maintenance-related tasks like carpentry and plumbing and such, but yard work was what made him truly feel like he was being punished.

Toby called a halt to their labors as the sun began to set, stretching out the early evening shadows like a funhouse mirror a scant two hours after they started. To Garran, it felt like an entire day, so tedious did he find the work. They tossed their tools into the cart, but Garran did not grab the handles to push it back.

“Toby, I want to stop by Dean Kelsey’s house before I return to my dorm. Can you take the cart back for me?”

“Why do you want to go to the dean’s?”

“Miss Kelsey has been so nice to me that I wanted to make sure she didn’t need anything done before I quit for the day.”

Toby looked at Garran suspiciously. “What are you up to?”

“What makes you think I’m up to something?”

“I’ve been playing the fool for a long time, and I know bullcrap when I hear it.”

“You’re so good at playing an idiot that I forget you’re quite astute. Anyway, that’s where I’m going.”

“I said a man has to walk his own path, but it’s a fool thing to choose the one with bears on it. You go and poke the grizzly enough, he’s gonna maul you.”

Garran grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to poke the bear…I’m going to poke his wife.”

Toby laughed and shook his head. “If you live past tomorrow, you have to tell me all about it. That Miss Kelsey is a fine old gal.”

“Don’t worry, Toby, I plan on telling everyone.”

Garran washed up at one of the ponds and made himself as presentable as he could before reaching the dean’s manor. He watched the house for several minutes before strolling up the walk and knocking on the door, just in case Dean Kelsey had changed his plans with his secretary. It appeared that he had not.

Marla opened the door and flashed Garran a curious smile. “Garran, what can I do for you?”

“Miss Kelsey, you have been really nice to Toby and me, and I don’t like the thought of someone misusing you.”

“What do you mean, dear?”

“Well…maybe it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t get involved in someone’s marriage, but it makes me so mad to see you not getting the appreciation you deserve.”

Marla’s smile slid from her face and she opened the door wider. “Come inside and tell me what’s bothering you.”

Garran hid his smile as he entered the posh living room and took a seat next to Miss Kelsey on her expensive sofa. “I was in the dean’s office a while back, and I saw this bill of sale on his desk.” He pulled the slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to Marla. “I didn’t think too much of it, but then I realized that it was the same necklace I saw his secretary, Vivian, wearing. Maybe it’s nothing, but it seemed to me to be awfully extravagant for a simple birthday gift or some such, and when I asked her about it she said that it had been her mother’s. I still let it go, thinking that my naturally suspicious nature was getting the best of me, but I was visiting a friend in the infirmary today and saw something else that concerned me.”

Marla’s face was a mask of calm, but anger simmered just beneath the surface. “What did you see?”

“I saw your husband and his secretary’s names in a physic’s ledger. I know I shouldn’t have snooped, but I’m an intelligence student, and the habit is hard for me to break. Under Dean Kelsey’s name, I saw that he had been treated for a stomach bug, but the day before, his secretary was treated for root rotter. Again, maybe it’s just coincidence, but we’re taught in school that few things are ever simple happenstance. It got me thinking that maybe the physic wrote down a different illness than what the dean was there for out of consideration for his station. If he is having an inappropriate relationship with his secretary and contracted such a horrible disease, I do not want you to suffer such a thing on account of her being a dirty whore.”

Marla steeled her countenance in an effort to avoid showing the emotions welling up inside her. “Fat chance of that. The man has barely touched me in years.” Her façade shattered in an instant. “I’m such a damn fool! Even worse, I am an idiot. Damn that man!”

“I am very sorry I upset you, Miss Kelsey.”

Marla forced a small smile. “I knew what he was doing all these years, but I thought it would pass. Gods, how I wish I could make him feel as big a fool as I do.”

Garran slid his hand atop of hers. “Maybe you can.”

Marla wiped a tear from her eye and gave Garran a genuine smile. “You are very sweet, but you do not want an old woman like me.”

“On the contrary, there is nothing more I would like right now.”

“Even if I were willing to do that for the sake of revenge, it would only mean something if he knew about it.”

“I want him to know. Men often do not appreciate what they have until someone else sets their sights on it.”

“Philip would destroy you if he ever found out.”

“I have friends far above him, and that makes me a very hard man to destroy.”

Marla stared into Garran’s eyes, grabbed him by the wrist, and pulled him into what appeared to be Dean Kelsey’s study. Using her free hand, she swept everything off the desk onto the floor and sprawled across its polished surface.

“Leave your boots on.”

***

The sound of his door bursting open roused Garran from his sleep. It was the only warning he got before fists and truncheons battered him to the floor. The hail of blows did not stop until he blacked out and may well have continued for a time beyond his oblivion. Garran caught a glimpse of red cloaks, the only indication of whom his assailants were, before losing consciousness.

The world returned in a flood of light and motion. Garran felt his feet scraping the ground and forced them to move, relieving some of the strain caused by the strong grip on his upper arms. He looked to his left and right and identified the two campus constables supporting his body between them and lugging him across the grounds. A third led the way a few paces ahead.

The constables dragged their prisoner to the administration building and into Dean Kelsey’s office. Garran flashed Vivian a wink and a smile as he passed, earning him a vitriolic glare of abject hatred in return. The pair of constables hurled him onto the floor just before Dean Kelsey’s desk and stepped back.

“Did you think you could defile my wife in my own house and I would just lie down for it?”

Garran struggled to his feet and gave the dean a bloody-toothed smile. “The only one I cared about lying down was Marla.”

A truncheon struck him in the back of his legs and returned him to the floor. He turned his head, locked eyes with the constables, and got back to his feet.

“You are done here,” the dean continued. “Be glad I am only expelling you and not declaring a formal duel. You are hereby expelled from this course and banned from ever stepping foot on the campus again.”

“I don’t think so.”

Dean Kelsey’s face clouded and he leaned forward in his chair. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’ll be begging for a lot more than that if you ever send goons to put hands on me again.” Garran spun around and raised a finger to the constable about to deliver another blow with his cudgel. “Don’t. I’ll deal with you three shortly.”

Caught off guard by the youth’s bravado and commanding tone, the constable checked his swing and took a step back. Garran turned to face the dean.

“Even if consorting with the neglected wife of a campus official was against the rules, which it is not, Gregor Ward wants me here, and he will not allow you to remove me from the program.”

“I do not know what interest Agent Ward has in you, but you need to be clear about the chain of authority. While Gregor is the chief agent, I run this program. I decide who attends and who graduates, not him. When it comes to this course I am a god.”

Garran shook his head. “You are a priest at best, although many priests have trouble understanding the vast gulf that lies between their mortal positions and godhood. Gregor Ward is also the man closest to the king. If Gregor wants me here, then that means Remiel wants me here. If the king wants me here, then it is going to take the act of God, and I mean the real one, not some bureaucrat with an inflated sense of importance, to remove me. Let’s face it; as long as I pass my classes, you’re stuck with me. You can make my life miserable and try to drive me out, but I will do the same to you, and I think I am far more tenacious than you are. I’m like a bad case of root rot. You think you have me beaten, but I come back with a stinging vengeance when you least expect it. I suggest that we declare a truce. I will stay away from you and your interests, and you stop trying to sabotage my education. Let my abilities decide whether or not I graduate.”

Dean Kelsey shifted in his seat and unconsciously adjusted the front of his trousers. “I will not lower the standards of my program no matter your threats or who sponsors you. Fail to meet the criteria I have established, and no one, not even the king, can save you from expulsion.”

“I’ll take that as a tacit agreement to our truce.”

The dean glanced down at the open report on his desk. “It looks as though you are struggling with mathematics. I suggest you apply a fraction of the energy you devote to your deviant pursuits toward passing your class. It is a required course after all.”

“Fractions are the ones with the line between them, right?”

Dean Kelsey glared daggers at Garran. “Get him out of my sight.”

The constables pushed him through the door and out of the building. Garran stopped and knelt next to a flower patch he had been working on yesterday with Toby.

“Do you guys see this white powder?”

Two of the constables knelt beside him and one said, “Yeah, what is it?”

Garran grabbed a handful in each fist. “It’s lime.”

He mashed the fistfuls of soil and lime into the men’s faces. The constables cried out, staggered back, and clawed at their eyes. Garran punched one man in the throat, snatched the cudgel from his belt, and brought it down onto the other’s knee. The constable’s leg buckled and sent him howling to the ground.

Commander Elric lashed out at Garran with his baton, but the student blocked the swing and delivered a powerful punch to his midriff. The senior constable gasped, but before he could catch his breath, Garran clouted him behind the ear, leapt onto his back, and choked him with the chain securing his red cloak of office.

Garran leaned close and whispered into Elric’s ear. “Listen close, red cloak. I am going to be the greatest agent this school ever produced. By the end of the day, I’ll know who you are, where you live, and who you love. Remember that before you ever again decide to overstep the bounds of your authority and blindly follow the dictates of a self-ordained god.”

Garran released his grip and shoved the man’s face into the dirt. He left the constables gasping for breath and groaning in pain. He had classes to attend and was already running late. The dean was right about one thing. Mathematics was a problem, but he was already dealing with it and would soon have it resolved. A more pressing concern was getting a new door on his room. He would have to enlist Toby’s help this afternoon and get that taken care of as well.

***

Garran lay on his bed sipping at a flask of whiskey to numb the pain from his drubbing. He and Toby had just finished installing the new door and reinforcing the strike plate with a slab of iron. Nothing short of a small ram would force it open now. Someone began pounding on the door. He bolted upright and grabbed the knife on his nightstand before he flipped the lock and took several steps back.

“Enter.”

He set the knife back on the table and sat on the edge of his bed as Gregor entered the room. The agent pulled out a chair from beneath the desk near the window and sat down.

“Nice little setup you have here. It’s rare for a first-year student to become prefect, unheard of actually.”