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.
“A commoner being able to summon means that there may be a way to give the ability to a person who cannot. Therefore, it is possible that we can make all noble children summoners, rather than just the firstborn. We already know that this is possible, given that the Lord and Lady Lovett’s second-, third-and fourth-born children are summoners, which was highly improbable. We just don’t know why it has happened. Perhaps the commoners are the key to finding out.”
Harold glanced down the table at a group of four students, sitting a little apart from everyone else. Three were dark-haired boys of varying ages, while the other was a younger girl with long black tresses and round gray eyes that gazed at Arcturus with frank curiosity. He remembered King Alfric had mentioned the Lovett family, accusing them of paying Arcturus to steal the summoning scroll on their behalf. If he remembered correctly, it had something to do with not having enough demons for all their children.
“I hope that this is reason enough. Now, Lord Goodwin will be leaving his role as your spellcraft teacher. We will bring in a new teacher to replace him.”
There was an audible sigh from the table, though whether that was because Lord Goodwin was popular or unpopular was unclear.
“Arcturus, please join your fellow students. After your first lesson come and see me. There are some questions I must ask you before I leave.” With those parting words, Obadiah spun on his heel and strode out of the room.
Arcturus stood for a moment, cringing under the gaze of the nobles. There was a gap between the Lovetts and Zacharias, so he squeezed in and spooned some bacon onto his plate. Sacharissa installed herself beneath the table, searching the floor for food that might have fallen.
“Something reeks,” Zacharias complained, shifting away from him. “Is it the Canid or the pleb?”
“Both,” Charles said gleefully, pinching his nose with his fingers. “They smell exactly the same. Like wet dog.”
“Dog breath. That’s what we should call him. Much better than Arcticunus, or whatever it was,” Zacharias laughed, and Charles snorted, spraying the table with egg. Another boy joined in with them, a sallow-faced noble with lank black hair tied in a ponytail.
“Good one, Zach,” the sallow noble guffawed, slapping Zacharias on the back.
“Oh, leave him alone,” Prince Harold moaned, rolling his eyes at the bullies. “Last time we went hawking together, you three smelled twice as ripe, especially after the hike back. Sweating like pigs you were.”
Arcturus smiled gratefully at the prince, realizing the young royal was very unlike his father. Harold gave him an apologetic shrug and went back to his meal. The other three glowered at him, but Arcturus ignored them and began to eat, trying to stop himself from demolishing it like a wild animal. It had been a while since he had last put food in his belly, and though he was used to hunger, he knew he needed to keep his strength up for the challenging days ahead.
Both at the workhouse and inn, his meals had been made up of stale bread, watered-down gruel and bruised fruit. He had only tasted bacon once, when the innkeeper had allowed him table scraps from an unfinished meal instead of feeding them to the pigs.
As for eggs, he wasn’t even sure how to eat them, and was forced to take furtive looks at the others as they mopped up the golden yolk with hunks of buttered toast.
It was not long before the rest of the table began to talk among themselves. Arcturus was keenly aware that he still needed to wash, especially after the comments the others had made. He looked up from his food, wondering if there was time to go before the others had finished breakfast.