Firebrand

Chapter 233: Tribulations and Tribunals

Chapter 233: Tribulations and Tribunals

Tribulations and Tribunals

The duke of Cheval's solstice celebration would not be held for another fiveday. Martel did feel apprehensive about the prospect – breaking into the study of a landlord in the bridge district was a far cry from doing the same in a duke's mansion – but he had time to consider. For now, other matters drew his attention. Martel had yet to hear word from the overseer, and he wondered how long he would have to wait until he could don the robes of an acolyte. At the same time, it seemed impertinent to approach Mistress Juliana and demand some kind of answer.

So he went to see Master Alastair instead. "Master, any word on my situation?"

Standing in the doorway of his chamber, his teacher gave an evasive look. "Not yet. But I believe Mistress Juliana is working hastily to get the matter resolved."

"But what exactly is there to resolve? I thought I did well on my examination."

"You did," Master Alastair hastily replied. "Look, I will see the overseer tonight and ask her. As soon as there is something to tell, you'll be informed."

A less definite answer than Martel had hoped, but it raised the possibility that by tonight, he would know more. Forced to be satisfied with that, he gave Master Alastair his thanks and left.

Walking away, Martel's thoughts drifted back to the examination. It bothered him how Reynard's staff had cut through his shield without any resistance. At first, Martel thought the spell might have failed; exhaustion had set in right after. But something else nagged him, though he was hard pressed to determine what. Pacing around in the corridor, he went through every moment as he remembered them. Reynard had struck him, staff melting through his shield with ease. Exhaustion had overcome him, but he still had the forethought to grab Reynard's weapon before it hit him a second time. The impact had hurt his hand – no, more than that. Before the pain, the staff had felt cold. Dead. And Reynard had been particular about which staff to give Martel.

It was difficult to imagine such duplicity from a teacher, but a small piece of gold, embedded and hidden in the tip of the staff, would allow it to pierce his shield.

Martel clenched his fists in anger. The worst part was that his realisation came too late. By now, Reynard would have removed the evidence. He had no proof to accuse a teacher.

The novice would have to put his faith in Mistress Juliana to sort this out and ensure his promotion to acolyte. No doubt if anyone could, it would be her; at the same time, he found that his faith in the faculty had suffered a blow.

***

On his way back to his room, a familiar voice with a familiar message caught Martel's attention as he crossed the entrance hall.

"Got something for you," Henry called out, raising one hand holding a folded note.

Martel walked over, glad to see Henry had resumed the duty of handling his post. He glanced towards the other desk where Jasper sat, studiously staring at a pile of parchment in front of him.

Opening the note, Martel quickly read the words.

Master Martel, please visit us in our new home

either today or tomorrow.

Flora

Below her name, an address was scribbled. In the bridge district, he noticed. While their first location in the harbour district, near the market, seemed more central, Martel assumed that the patronage of Lady Pearl was the reason for their move. He hoped that the invitation was not only to see the new place, but also held the promise of a new task. He had made no progress on repaying Maximilian, Eleanor, or Master Alastair.

He considered leaving immediately, but a glance outside showed heavy snowfall. Not in the mood for company either, Martel decided to postpone until tomorrow, as the note had made allowance for. Instead, he retreated to his room, practising his shield spell.

***

As he had told Martel, the Master of Elements went to visit the overseer in the evening. She gave him entry and poured a cup of wine for him, which he accepted with an absent-minded expression. "What have you heard?"

Juliana sat silent for a moment before she finally picked up a letter from her desk. "I misjudged the situation."

"How so?"

"I thought the headmaster would seek a reason to have Martel fail, perhaps even fabricate one. And use that to dislodge me from my position. I figured, with the final decision of Martel's examination resting with me, and three teachers as witnesses to his examination, this could not work."

Concern, hitherto vague on Alastair's face, became obvious. "What has he done?"

"Rather than go after Martel and afterwards use that to attack me, our good headmaster has done the reverse by tying the two actions together." She handed over the letter. "He accuses me directly of incompetence. Instead of me deciding whether Martel is fit to be an acolyte, a tribunal will be assembled to judge whether I am fit to be overseer, using Martel as a pawn."

Alastair looked from the letter to Juliana and back. "And who will be on this tribunal?"

"That is the salient question. He will undoubtedly attempt to fill it with his cronies, perhaps even petitioning the High Council for the right to choose. I may have to do the same – hope that I have more allies than he does."

He placed his still full cup on the small table in front of his seat. "If not…"

She pursed her lips before they turned into a thin smile. "I will be sacked and replaced by someone willing to support the headmaster's political ambitions."

"And Martel will be expelled. Should we tell him of this possibility?"

Juliana drummed her fingers against her desk. "Let me test the waters. If I can influence the choices for the tribunal, there is no need to worry him needlessly. But if I can't, you may have to counsel him on what his future looks like."