Among Wolves. Nancy Wallace K.
Читать онлайн.| Название | Among Wolves |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Nancy Wallace K. |
| Жанр | Героическая фантастика |
| Серия | |
| Издательство | Героическая фантастика |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 9780008103583 |
CHAPTER 29: Acquainted With Death
CHAPTER 32: The Storyteller’s Sack
CHAPTER 40: Bishops and Blacksmiths
CHAPTER 44: Unexpected Visitors
“There’s an urgent message for you, monsieur,” Isaac La Salle said, handing Devin a rolled parchment sealed with the gold signet of the Chancellor Elite. The proctor’s whispered message boomed in the compulsory quiet of the examination hall.
Devin nodded silently, aware of the handful of other graduate students still bent feverishly over their exams. He squared the edges on his sheaf of examination papers and retrieved his jacket from the back of the bench. His friend, Gaspard, glanced desperately his way, eyes rolling, his exam barely started. Shooting him a sympathetic grin, Devin walked to the back of the room. La Salle now sat propped against the Académie’s stone wall, the seventh volume of Blade’s Laws spread across his lap. Devin handed the proctor his completed papers and left without comment.
Devin pocketed the parchment. It was so like his father to think nothing of interrupting final exams with an urgent missive to report home. He knew without reading it what it required of him. He’d already planned a visit to his parents into the flurry of tonight’s activity but it would have to be brief. His ship sailed at dawn and he doubted he would even find time to sleep.
He crossed the wide entrance hall, with its two elegantly curving stairways. One led to the Archives, the other to the lecture halls. He mounted neither but walked through the massive double doors into the late spring sunshine. Spray from the central fountain dampened his hair and shirt as he passed through the courtyard. He welcomed the sprinkle of cool water after the stuffiness of the examination hall. Blossoming trees and early bulbs in bloom flanked the perimeter of the cobbled expanse. The fragrance of flowers hung heavy in the air. The sun lying low in the west silhouetted the trees lining the street before him. Horses and buggies hugged the curb, their drivers soliciting fares. He passed by them, content to walk.
Today marked the completion of his first two years of apprenticeship in Llisé’s Historic Archives. His Third Year was his own – to explore optional careers – or to rethink his decision to become an archivist. If he returned for the Fourth, and final, Year at the Académie, his choice of profession would be sealed and there could be no changes.
He didn’t anticipate any alteration of his plans. He had never been happier than studying Llisé’s ancient documents, recopying those whose condition was deteriorating, and compiling meticulous chronological records.
When he reached Independence Square, the clock high on the cathedral arch, chimed seven. He quickened his pace. The windows of the houses bordering the square already glowed softly with candlelight. His family would be waiting and tardiness on his part would only lead to teasing about his possible lack of proficiency in exams.
The Chancellor’s mansion dominated the western end of the square, its pillared gates lined by a dozen guards, in blue and silver uniforms. They waved Devin through as he climbed the front steps in the fading light.
Girard, his black suit and white shirt immaculate, opened the door.
“How did it go, monsieur?” he asked, with a smile. “Did you pass your exams or should I inquire about a post in the provinces for you?”
“I did well,” Devin assured him. “I finished first. The others are still up to their ears in essays.”
Girard laughed. “Your father will be pleased.” He pointed to the right. “They’re in the petite parlor. They’ve been waiting.”
Devin crossed the threshold expecting to have a quiet dinner with his parents. But all five of his older brothers had gathered to see him off. He was not surprised to see that none of their wives had been invited. That was his mother’s doing. She actively sought time alone with her sons, where she could claim their complete attention without any distractions.
His father had neatly slotted his first five sons into every branch of the powerful government he controlled. As the youngest, only Devin had been free to pursue his own interests.
His brothers stood clustered in the parlor, waiting for him. Their expressions ranged from anxious to grave, as though they had gathered to stage an intervention.
“It’s a celebration not a wake!” Devin exclaimed, clapping his oldest brother on the shoulder. Jean was a district judge; staid and solemn, already tending toward plumpness around the middle. A few gray hairs highlighted his dark temples.
“We’re just concerned,” Jean replied. “This plan of yours