Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7) (19 page)

But I’m going to learn from you
, Emily promised herself, meeting his eyes.
And I will not let you break me down
.

E
MILY DARTED BACKWARDS AS MASTER GREY
lashed out at her with a wooden sword, blocking his blow as best as she could. He gave her a cold smile, jumped forward and slapped the flat of his blade against her hands. Emily yelped in pain and dropped the sword, grunting as he stabbed forward and struck her chest. She was wearing protective padding over her uniform, but it still hurt.

“You need to move quicker,” he told her, gruffly. “Show me your hands.”

“Yes, sir,” Emily muttered through gritted teeth. Her hands
hurt
, but it didn’t look as though there was any permanent damage, or anything that couldn’t be cured by time and rest. “I don’t think there’s any damage...”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Master Grey said. He took her hands in a surprisingly gentle grip and inspected them, thoroughly. “You shouldn’t need any real treatment, but if they’re still sore tomorrow go see the Healer.”

“Yes, sir,” Emily said.

“You need to keep moving,” Master Grey added. “If I’d been using a real sword, Lady Emily, you would be bleeding out by now.”

Emily nodded, feeling the pain in her chest. She was going to have more aches and pains tomorrow, she was sure, but he was right. If he’d struck her with a real sword, she would probably be dead. She’d learned more than she’d ever expected to learn about swordfighting, but she honestly couldn’t say she was any good at it. Magic was so much easier to use.

“Sit down on the bench,” Master Grey said. “Aloha and I will spar while you watch.”

“Yes, sir,” Emily said, relieved.

She sat down gratefully as Aloha stepped up, wooden sword in hand. The older girl looked excited, although - for once - there was a hint of trepidation about her movements. She’d had a chance to see Master Grey in action
before
sparring with him herself and she
knew
he was both faster and stronger than her. The real question, Emily thought as she rubbed her aching fingers, was if she could turn the tables on him before he overwhelmed her? It didn’t seem very likely...

Master Grey lunged forward, again. Aloha dodged to one side, rather than trying to block - in hindsight, Emily noted, that might have been her mistake - and then slashed out at his chest in a single smooth motion. Master Grey moved with blinding speed, blocking her blow and trying to stab her with his blade. Aloha jumped backwards, tripped, fell on her rear and brought her feet up to kick Master Grey in the chest. Emily cheered inwardly as Master Grey grunted, but groaned as he brought his sword down on Aloha’s chest.

“You’re dead,” he said. He sounded rather more than a little amused. “I should add that trying to be clever in a swordfight is asking for trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” Aloha said. She’d wanted to impress him, Emily realized. At least she’d managed to make him smile. “I didn’t mean to fall backwards.”

“You might well have lost your legs, if I’d had a real blade,” Master Grey said, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. “And you would have had bruised ones, if I’d hit you with the wooden sword.”

He turned to look at Emily. “Comments?”

Emily swallowed. “She didn’t have a choice,” she said. “Once she fell over, she was vulnerable.”

Master Grey eyed her for a long moment, but finally nodded. “Stay on your feet, if possible,” he said, turning back to Aloha. “I expect a paper from both of you, next week, on how you could have done better in your duels. You’ll also find the marked papers you handed in yesterday in your lockers. We will discuss any questions you might have on Thursday.”

“Yes, sir,” Aloha said.

“And it is just about time for us to end the session,” Master Grey added. “Go shower, then collect your papers and finish your homework.”

Emily watched Aloha walk off, back to the school, then cleared her throat nervously.

“Emily,” Master Grey said. “Do you have a question?”

“I would like to discuss my future career with you,” Emily said, keeping her voice steady. “Can we talk now?”

“Go shower,” Master Grey said. “I’ll be in my office in” - he glanced at his watch - “twenty minutes, after I’ve showered myself. You can speak to me then.”

Emily nodded, turned, and hurried back to the barracks. Aloha was there, washing herself thoroughly under the shower, her dark skin already showing a handful of nasty bruises. Emily winced and undressed herself, cursing as she saw the mark on her chest where his sword had struck her. It was going to be sore tomorrow, she was sure; her fingers, at least, felt a little better. She eyed the painkilling potions stored on the wall, seriously considering downing one before the meeting, then dismissed the thought. Master Grey wouldn’t be pleased if she turned up under the influence.

“That was fun,” Aloha said, as she stepped out of the shower. “I enjoyed myself.”

“You fell over backwards,” Emily said. She paused as a thought struck her. “Or did you do it deliberately to show him you could recover from a misstep?”

Aloha grinned, showing her teeth. “Whichever one sounds better,” she said. “We’d better get more practice in, though. You need to be better at dodging.”

Emily sighed, showered rapidly and then pulled her robes back over her head. The uniforms would be dumped in the basket for washing - luckily, they weren’t expected to wash their uniforms themselves - and returned to them for Thursday. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, checked her appearance in the mirror and walked out of the barracks. Master Grey’s office - the door warded with more hexes and charms than any other tutor at Whitehall - was just down the corridor. She tapped on the door and waited.

“Enter,” Master Grey called.

Emily opened the door and stepped inside, looking around with interest. The office was a bare stone chamber with a desk, a pair of chairs and a single large wooden trunk, covered in nasty-looking runes. Master Grey was seated behind his desk, reviewing several papers with a gimlet eye. He looked up at her as she closed the door, his cold gaze flickering over her, then silently pointed to the chair. Emily sat and forced herself to wait as Master Grey finished reading his papers. She could be patient, if necessary.

“You wanted to talk about your career,” Master Grey said, suddenly. He looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers. “How may I be of service?”

“You were a Mediator,” Emily said. She wasn’t entirely sure what to say. “It is a career I have been urged to consider.”

“I see,” Master Grey said. “And what has your father said about it?”

“Nothing,” Emily said. Void hadn’t said a word about her future career, at least not to her. “I believe I am expected to choose my own career.”

“Odd,” Master Grey said. His voice was strictly neutral. “Most patriarchs - or matriarchs - take a hand in determining what careers their children will follow.”

Like Fulvia wanted to do with Melissa
, Emily thought. If Void had been her
real
father, he would probably have made a few suggestions.
But he isn’t and he didn’t
.

“My father has said nothing on the matter,” Emily said, which happened to be the literal truth. “I would like to know what the requirements are to be a Mediator.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t look them up before coming here,” Master Grey observed. “They
are
a matter of public record.”

Emily flushed.
That
was true. She’d been so worried about approaching him in person that she hadn’t checked the library.

“To be considered, you would need to earn high marks in everything from Martial Magic to Charms,” Master Grey said. For once, he didn’t seem inclined to berate her for her oversight. “Alchemy and Healing are considered lesser requirements, but you are expected to have alpha or beta certificates by the time you graduate from Whitehall or private tutoring afterwards. You would also need to take the oaths as a citizen of the Allied Lands, rather than a citizen of any single state.”

He gave her a tight smile. “You would have to give up Cockatrice,” he added.

Emily looked down at the floor, cursing King Randor under her breath. If she’d known what she was getting into, she would have refused the Barony, even though it would have been in public. Defying the king so openly would probably have landed her in hot water, but it would be better than being caught between her dreams and her obligations. And the longer she kept it, the harder it would be to give it up.

She frowned, not looking up. “I couldn’t leave it in someone else’s hands?”

“Look at me when you talk to me,” Master Grey said, sternly. Emily lifted her gaze to meet his. “You could not be a great noblewoman, with obligations to a single country, and be expected to serve the Allied Lands. It would be a major conflict of interest.”

He smiled, rather coldly. “Prospective Mediators apprentice themselves to two or more Mediators, rather than just a single master,” he continued. “You would be expected to serve as a combat sorcerer, but also as a diplomat and judge, sorting out problems that bedevil the Allied Lands and make it impossible for us to focus on our true enemy. One day, you might be tracking down a rogue sorcerer, one who needs to be stopped; the next, you might be standing between two armies and convincing them to stand down. People will learn they can rely on you to serve as an impartial representative of the Allied Lands, with the power to bind and loose as you see fit.

“Should the necromancers invade, you will find yourself helping to command a multinational army, smoothing out the problems caused by too many egos in too small a space. You will be expected to be the first in any charge and the last in any retreat, placing yourself and your powers completely at the army’s disposal. It may well be that you find yourself trying to prevent soldiers from fleeing, if the battle goes against us, or captured, held by one of the necromancers.”

Emily shivered. She’d been Shadye’s prisoner, back when he’d plucked her from her own world with the intention of sacrificing her for power. What would another necromancer, one who knew who she was, do to her? The safest course of action would be to kill her at once, she thought, but necromancers weren’t known for being rational. Maybe they’d see her as a prospective sacrifice...or maybe they’d see her as something far worse.

“Life is hard,” Master Grey admitted. “There will be nights when you sleep in the open air, shivering from the cold and rain and the thought of what tomorrow will bring. There will be days when you look upon the handiwork of rogue sorcerers and curse the very human race. And there will be days when you will find yourself trying to broker peace between two warring factions, when all you want them to do is hurry up and kill each other so you can sit down and rest. You...”

He paused for a long moment. “I was required to pass judgement in a dispute between the King of Alluvia, King Jorlem, and the nearby city-state of Tarzana. You may have heard of them.”

“I’ve met King Jorlem,” Emily said. “His son was one of the possible candidates for marrying Alassa.”

“Not a pleasant fate,” Master Gray stated. Emily wasn’t sure which of them was being insulted, Alassa or Prince Hedrick. “King Jorlem pushed his claim quite forcibly, threatening to cut off the city-state’s water supply if they refused to uphold his rights. The men and women of Tarzana were running out of water when I arrived, having been tasked to hear the dispute. I reviewed the documents, checked everything I could...and wound up having to rule in the king’s favor.”

Emily blinked. “Why did you do
that
?”

“Because he was in the right,” Master Grey said, simply. “Unpleasant, cruel, calculating, sadistic...but also in the right. I couldn’t have done anything else, Lady Emily, once the facts were at my disposal. The king was in the right and the city-state was in the wrong.”

He tapped the table, impatiently. “The river started in the king’s lands,” he said. “By long-standing agreement, the city-state was supposed to render the king due honors and a certain amount of support in exchange for water. For various reasons, the city-state was never called upon to honor its side of the agreement. They had grown used to considering themselves totally independent by the time King Jorlem came to the throne.”

“And most of them might not have known the agreement existed,” Emily mused.

“Quite,” Master Grey said. He gave her a pinched smile. “The king was not interfering within the city, not directly. He was merely threatening to dam a river on his lands.”

“Which would have had an effect on the city,” Emily pointed out.

“But not
quite
the same as sending an army to burn the city to the ground,” Master Grey countered, dryly. “King Jorlem was not breaking the agreement, merely...ensuring the city-state had an incentive to keep
its
side of the agreement.”

Emily scowled. “That’s what you meant, isn’t it? I might find myself helping someone I personally dislike.”

“Well,
quite
,” Master Grey said.

He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “It’s a hard life,” he said, “and harder still for a woman. Your mentor” - his face flickered, briefly - “was one of the few to endure the long marches, the intensive training and being forced to share cramped quarters with male trainees. There is no privacy in such quarters. You can expect to be pushed to the limits and beyond. And...if you get captured, you can expect worse than simple death. There are thousands of people out there who hate us and everything we stand for.”

“I see,” Emily said. She forced herself to look him in the eye. “Is it a rewarding job?”

Master Grey smiled. She thought it was the first time he’d given her a genuinely open smile.

“It’s the best position in the Allied Lands,” he said. His face fell, slightly. “If, of course, you make it through all the hurdles. Seven out of ten trainees quit within the first year. You’ll see sights that will sap your faith in human decency, but you will also have a chance to make a real difference...if you don’t wind up dead, or in the Halfway House. I think you’ll see some of the failures on Friday. Take note of what happened to them.”