Imager

32

I’d had to write the essay on the reason for the Collegium’s secrecy in protecting councilors after working with Master Dichartyn on imaging skills on Mardi night. That was more than a little difficult, because, first, I was so tired that I could hardly think and, second, I knew nothing about how the Collegium actually handled protection. Because I could not keep my eyes open any longer after writing the essay, I went to bed. Then, I’d had to get up early on Meredi to read the appendix on Council procedures and precedents. I had to read it twice, and I doubted that I understood a fraction of what I read, because it seemed so arcane. While I waited outside Master Dichartyn’s study, I even read the first ten pages of the procedural appendix again, but I still wasn’t sure I understood it any better.

Once he summoned me into his study, Master Dichartyn didn’t waste any time. “Let me see your paper on imager secrecy.”

I handed it over and sat in the chair opposite him while he read it.

Finally, he looked up. He did not look pleased. “This is not a good essay, Rhennthyl. There are mistakes in grammar and in logic, and your scrivening is sloppy.”

“Yes, sir. I know, sir.”

“If you know, why did you turn in something so bad?”

“I didn’t have enough time to do it better last night, and I was so tired that I couldn’t think straight, sir.”

“You will redo this and hand in a more acceptable effort tomorrow-a much more acceptable effort. Now . . . on to your reading assignment. What is the ostensible purpose of a call for quorum in the Council and what is the real purpose?”

The first part I recalled. “A call for quorum is made to assure that a majority of the Council is present so that important business may be brought before the Council.”

“That is indeed the procedural purpose. What is the real purpose?”

I had not the slightest idea. “I don’t know, sir.”

“Don’t you think that most members of the Council would be present if truly important matters were to be discussed?”

“I would think so, sir.”

“Then why would anyone need to require a call for quorum?”

“To keep someone from bringing up something else?”

“That is partly correct. It’s most generally used, however, to delay proceedings so that members can persuade others or reconsider strategy, or so that the entire Council can avoid making a decision.”

Avoid making a decision? Couldn’t they just not vote or decide? “Would that be to avoid even bringing up something that they were not ready to decide upon?”

“I think I just said that.” Master Dichartyn’s voice was sharp.

“I’m sorry, sir. What I was trying to say was that they might use it even to avoid the appearance of avoiding making a decision.”

“That’s more accurate, far more accurate.” The sharpness faded from his voice. “Now . . . is a point of order a procedural stalling tactic or a valid objection?”

“Ah . . . both?”

“Rhenn . . . you don’t seem all that certain about what you read. Why not?”

“I read that section twice, sir, and part of it a third time.”

“Surely, with that much perusal you could remember with more certainty.”

What did he want? I was doing the best I could do.

Master Dichartyn’s face turned even more stern. “Rhennthyl . . . you may have talent, but you definitely do not understand one basic thing about the Collegium and the world. No one cares whether you are tired, whether you had a hard day, or whether you have trouble thinking straight. In fact, if you let anyone know when you feel that way, it may well result in either your death or your immediate retirement to Mont D’Image with your friend Johanyr.”

I did hide a swallow at that.

“Being a fully-trained imager is one of the most difficult professions to master, and failure to master it will mean either that you will end up in the machine works or the armory or some lesser position or that you will be injured or die.” He paused for a moment. “I have the feeling that you do not wish to spend your life doing something beneath your potential. Am I wrong?”

“No, sir.”

“Then you will need to use your time more effectively. If you cannot think after a long day of effort, you need to rise earlier and do your reading and assignments then. Short naps also help. Long naps are worse than no naps, because they disrupt your sleep, and you end up more tired than ever.”

“Yes, sir.”

After that, he was slightly less sharp, but his questions were as probing as ever, and I felt like I knew almost nothing.

Finally, he stopped examining me on the procedures appendix and said, “Read the appendix again, and think more about it. I also want you to read the next section in the science text, the one about anatomy.” He paused. “Master Draffyd overheard something about your wanting to paint portraits.”

“No, sir. Not exactly. Some of the thirds asked if I could paint their portraits. I said that I couldn’t do that for coins . . . but I suppose I could let them give me supplies and brushes. Would there be anywhere I could set up a small studio?”

“You want to do more? You just told me you were having trouble doing what has been assigned to you.”

“I didn’t mean right now. It would take weeks even to obtain everything, and I wouldn’t even think of trying it unless I was doing well enough that you approved. But I wanted to know if it might be possible. If it is not, I understand, and I will not bring up the matter again.”

Master Dichartyn frowned for a moment, then suddenly smiled, and nodded. “I hadn’t thought of that, but it might be well for you to keep that skill. It could be most useful, and some of the masters here have not ever had portraits . . .”

That was the best part of the day.

I had to go back to my quarters and rewrite my essay on secrecy and then pore over the procedural appendix yet again. Lunch was one of the few meals I could barely eat-a strong liver and onion ragout whose smell nearly turned my guts inside out. Even the bread tasted like onions and liver to me. I hurried to get into my exercise clothing. Clovyl worked me hard for a glass with exercises, and then took me on a run-twice all the way around Imagisle, close to four milles. He was barely breathing hard, and I was panting and gasping and sweat-soaked when I tottered to a halt outside the exercise rooms.

Then came my first instruction in hand-to-hand fighting, where Clovyl demonstrated a move, and I had to mimic it exactly. Exactly.

After his instruction, which lasted well past the fourth glass, and left me almost as sweat-soaked as the run had, I showered again, and took a short nap and then read the next section of the science text, the one on human anatomy. Dinner was better, a rice and cheese dish with some sort of fowl.

Then I had to return to Master Dichartyn’s study by the seventh glass and work on imaging with and passing items through moving objects. At that point, my muscles were getting sore, very sore, and I tried not to think about the fact that I had a month of this sort of training ahead of me . . . if not more.

I did force myself to hang up my clothes and put everything in my quarters where it should be before I climbed under my blankets.