Clay’s eyes snapped open for what seemed like the second time.

This time, he was looking at something a bit more mundane. The wooden ceiling of his cramped room in the Academy was unremarkable, but the sight of it helped him at least try to calm his breathing. It had to have been a dream, right?

As he calmed down, Clay felt his own sense of reality steady a little. The chill of another autumn morning crept through the shutters of the window; he could tell that the warming glow of sunrise was still sneaking across the sky. He levered himself out of the reasonably comfortable bed and put his feet on the stone floor.

He sat there for a moment, just focusing on his breathing and trying to refocus on what lay ahead for the rest of the day. Katherine had told him that there would be a series of trials in order to determine his rank. She hadn’t been specific about what those trials would include, but she had told him he would need to be ready when she arrived.

So he shook off the lingering feelings of that strange dream and started to get ready for the day. Porters had brought the gear from the horse the baron had lent him and left it in the room. His boar spear was leaning against the wall, and the belt that held the knives that Adam had made for him as well. His shortbow and quiver were there as well, along with the few other odds and ends that he’d relied on against the spiders. He didn’t know what kind of trial he was going to be facing, but he wanted to be as ready as he could be.

Once he was armed and ready, Clay went to the door and opened it.

He found a young man waiting for him. The kid looked young enough that he had to have just barely graduated to [Youth]. Clay nodded to him uneasily. “Good morning.”

The [Youth] nodded back. “Good morning, Sir. If you’ll follow me, your breakfast is already prepared.”

Clay blinked. He hadn’t even considered what he’d eat; a part of him had just expected to track down a fireplace somewhere so he could cook up some of his travel rations. “Uh, yeah. Thank you.”

His escort smiled. “It is no worry, Sir. This way.”

He followed the [Youth]—who said his name was Michael—to a large room with numerous circular tables. There weren’t many other people there, but it was clear it was expected to hold dozens of people at once. The [Youth] showed him to a table, and then left to collect the food. Clay had volunteered to go instead, but the boy shook his head. “I’m your page, Sir. I can handle things for you.”

So Clay was left sitting alone and awkward in the mostly empty room, at a table by himself. To pass the time, he looked around and studied the handful of other people in the room. A trio of adventurers were eating and talking in low voices two tables away. They also had their armor and weapons with them, and it was clear that they’d either just arrived from a mission, or they were about to head out on one.

Three tables away, a pair of richly dressed adventurers were eating in haughty silence. Clay marked them down in his head as probable [Nobles]. He’d known some pretty well adjusted members of the nobility, but that didn’t mean he had no concept of other, less charitable members of the Kingdom’s leaders. Neither of them looked at him, so Clay simply turned his own attention away.

The only other occupants were a couple of disconsolate-looking adventurers who were attempting to bury their woes in a serving of scrambled eggs and warm porridge. One of them was wearing a brown cloak with brightly dyed stripes. He seemed to shrink down in his seat when he saw Clay looking in his direction, and Clay felt a burst of guilt for apparently bothering the kid. They didn’t look any older than he was, actually.

If the man in the cloak was shy, however, his companion at the table was not. He was dressed in rough clothes, the kind that Clay would have expected to find on a beggar or a street urchin. The man was heavily muscled too, with a collection of scars that pointed to a history of street fights. Clay met his eyes, and the stranger simply glared back at him with an automatic kind of defiance that surprised him. When he’d dreamed of the Academy, he’d never thought to find such hostility so quickly. Maybe he was a friend of Sir Leonard?

Either way, Clay was grateful when the page came back, carrying a plate of warm bread and some beans. He thanked Michael again, and the page described the way he’d need to go to reach the trial area before retreating back to the kitchens.

Left more or less to his own thoughts, Clay began to eat. He was in the middle of washing down a mouthful of beans with a drink of water when he heard footsteps behind him. “Well, if it isn’t the new mystery initiate!”

Clay managed not to choke and turned to look behind him. He found a woman dressed in a tunic and pants, standing in front of a man wearing something suspiciously like a Rector’s robe. The woman had been the one who spoke; her blue eyes twinkled a bit as she studied him, and her auburn hair had been drawn back into a ponytail.

“The name’s Anne. Nice to meet you.” She stuck out a hand.

Clay stood up and shook it. “I’m Clay. Clay Evergreen.” Then he looked at the other man, who raised an eyebrow at him. He didn’t extend his hand.

“My name is Xavien.”

“Good to meet both of you.” Clay tried not to feel off balance. Xavien was obviously a bit standoffish, but Anne seemed friendly enough.

Anne grinned and plopped herself down at the table next to him. Xavien paused for a moment, and then settled in next to her with a sigh. She didn’t seem to notice his reluctance. “So I heard you were some kind of Rogue that they pardoned. How did they get you? Did you try to fight?”

Clay frowned as he reclaimed his own seat. “I wasn’t a Rogue. At least, not exactly.”

Xavien raised an eyebrow. “An interesting way to put it.”

“Life’s complicated.” Clay tried to shrug nonchalantly. He wasn’t sure he succeeded. Apparently, someone had already been spreading rumors about him. Had Sir Leonard gone and blabbed everything about what had happened in the Tanglewood? If most of the Academy assumed he was some kind of former Rogue he was probably going to face even more of an uphill battle. “They’ve asked me to be part of the Guild, though, and I agreed. I’m facing the first trial today, in fact.”

Anne laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t stress out about it. The first trial is a piece of cake, honestly.”

Clay raised an eyebrow. “Really? Nobody has told me anything about it.”

Xavien shrugged. “It is not a secret, Clay Evergreen. Trials for advancement within the guild are normally combat tests.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Combat tests? Like duels?” Back in Pellsglade he had heard about things like that in stories, but he hadn’t expected them to be true. Charles and the others hadn’t mentioned them either.

Anne laughed a second time, slapping the table a little. “Yeah, but don’t worry, nobody is going to get hurt today. You’ll be using practice weapons, and any [Charms] or [Sigils] will get toned down by some special gear. Not that you’ll have to worry about that.”

Clay blinked. He wondered for a moment if the same protections would work against [Chants]. “Why not?”

“Because in the first test, you’ll be fighting a bunch of [Commoners]. You probably won’t even break a sweat.” She shook her head, an expression of pity on her face. “Poor guys are going to get called over from the King’s guard just to get thumped on. Their commander usually sends the ones who have been screwing up the most, too, so you really don’t have any reason to be nervous.”

Despite himself, Clay felt a little bit of annoyance at the flippant way she talked about the [Commoners]. She was probably right that he didn’t need to worry, but he’d seen the baron’s [Guards] fight the Undead in the Sarlwood. He doubted Herb would stand up to an adventurer all that well, but he wouldn’t deserve to get mocked or talked about that way.

Before he could open his mouth to say so, another voice broke in. “She bothering you, new guy?”

He turned and found himself face to face with the hostile man from earlier. Up close, he seemed far more intimidating; he towered over Clay, though his expression was far less surly now. The other man, still in his robe, was cowering in his friend’s shadow, as if trying to avoid notice. “No. Syr Anne was just telling me about the first trial.”

The man’s face cleared a little more. “Oh. The [Commoner] Bash.” He shook his head. “Not sure why they make everyone do that. It really doesn’t do anyone any good.”

Clay buckled down on his initial reaction to the name of the trial. Instead, he forced a smile. “I’m not sure either. I have to do it to get into the Guild, right?”

Anne broke back into the conversation. “Yep! Everyone has to pass that first trial to get in. That makes you an initiate, like us.”

He frowned slightly, remembering back to what his friends had mentioned to him back in Pellsglade. “What’s after initiate? Cadet?”

“Two for two, newcomer.” Anne nodded enthusiastically. “For that one, you have to fight against other initiates. It’d be worth it to be able to go out on missions, though. Initiates just get stuck here training.”

Clay grimaced. As much as he would appreciate training, he wouldn’t be gaining any Soul by sitting around in the Academy. The only way he could level up further would be if he found monsters to fight—and besides, the last thing he wanted to do was get stuck in this place when he could have been home, or hunting down Lairs. “What rank do you need to have to be able to adventure on your own?”

“Without a party?” Xavien exchanged a look with the others. His expression was puzzled. “Journeyman, at least. Probably peer, most likely.”

Anne broke in smoothly. “Not that you’d want to do that, of course. Adventuring on your own is an easy death sentence. Always better to stick together with someone else.”

Thinking back to his time in the Tanglewood, Clay gave her an easy smile. “I suppose so.” He caught sight of Michael again. The page was hovering on the edge of the room, as if trying to talk himself into interrupting. “If you’ll excuse me, I think they are ready for me.”

“I’ll help myself to this then!” Anne snatched the rest of the bread and dug in. She paused in her gorging to glance up at him. “Do your best!”

Clay gave the odd woman a half-hearted wave. He couldn’t help noticing that the hostile man’s eyes followed him out of the room. So did the two [Nobles]’, actually; for some reason, he was no longer beneath their notice. He tried to ignore them and followed Michael as the page led through the corridors.

Syr Katherine was waiting for them, standing beside a half-dozen men in plain armor. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the weapons he carried. “Good morning, Sir Clay. You will not be using those today. We have a practice spear and knife for you to use instead.”

Clay nodded. He was looking at the soldiers in front of him, all of whom looked fairly miserable at the prospect of facing him. “So I just have to fight a few of them to pass?”

Katherine nodded. “You must defeat at least three out of five. You can pick any five to fight that you want.”

He glanced at her and then looked back at the [Commoners]. They were holding their practice weapons with the kind of dejection that people back home had expressed when it was time to clear out an old cesspool. Clay wondered how many times soldiers from the King’s men had been beaten by adventurers over the years, and how he would have felt in their place.

The courtyard was mostly empty, but he could see other members of the Guild filtering in to watch. Clearly, some of them were hoping to scope out the new competition; if they had to fight each other to move up a rank, knowing a few of his tricks would only help them. Some of them might have just wanted to see the former Rogue in action; Leonard’s lies would have drummed up interest on that angle alone.

Seeing all of them, and the miserable expressions on the faces of the soldiers, gave Clay a twisted feeling in his guts. There was something to this trial that seemed off to him. An adventurer wasn’t supposed to be fighting other people; they were meant to fight monsters. What was the point of fighting a bunch of level one [Commoners] on his first real day in the Guild? Why bother with this at all, especially when he’d already fought monsters? A part of him was tempted to try to bypass the test completely, and see how far he could push things. He doubted that Syr Katherine would go along with the idea, but it might have been worth a shot.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Then he smiled as a different plan came to him. The Trickster was the one arranging things, wasn’t she? It was about time for him to start living up to her reputation.

Clay walked over to the weapon rack where the practice equipment was stored. He set aside his own weapons and picked up their blunt, simple facsimiles. Then he turned back to the waiting soldiers. “I’ll take all of them.”

Katherine blinked. She glanced at the soldiers, and then back at Clay. “You wish to fight all six soldiers? You’d have to win four times out of six—”

“I meant I want to fight all six of them at once.” Clay took an experimental couple of swings and thrusts with the practice spear. It was a lot lighter than his boar spear; he’d have to be careful of that. The shortsword meant to stand in for his knife wasn’t as heavy as the real thing, either. “Seems like it would be more fun that way.”

The soldiers exchanged a look amongst each other, and stood up a little straighter. Syr Katherine glanced at them and cleared her throat. “Sir Clay, I know you are at a higher level than most initiates, but—”

“I know, six opponents are a lot. They’re not giant spiders, though, so I think I’ll mange.” He put the practice knife into the sheath at his side and set the butt of the practice spear in the dirt. “By the way, are [Chants] safe to use? I heard that other magic was reduced in strength, but I didn’t know if it worked for all magic or just [Charms] and [Sigils].”

Now clearly off balance, Katherine shook her head. “The protection [Chant] only lessens the effect of magic that isn’t produced by another [Chant].”

“Well, that sounds useful! I’ll have to see if I can learn it later.” Unfortunately, it would mean his best [Chants] would be too lethal to use, but he was still confident. He had both [Paragon] and [Valiant] giving him bonuses, after all. Clay turned back to the soldiers. “You guys are trained to fight together, right? That was how Baron Pellsglade’s [Guards] fought when they helped him against the Undead back home. Did you learn the same way here?”

The soldiers exchanged another look. Then the most grizzled of the six stepped forward. “That’s right, Sir Clay. We try to fight in formation when we can.”

“Good. Let’s give everyone a good show, then.” Clay gave them a smile, and a couple of them smiled back. At least one of them grimaced and muttered something under her breath, but at least she looked more angry than miserable. They all followed him out into the middle of the courtyard, falling into a loose formation as they moved.

Clay turned to face them, and for a moment he regretted deciding to face all six enemies at once. The soldiers spread out in front of him, each with a spear and shield. They were moving in pairs, edging around to try to surround him from all sides. He imagined they were thinking to hedge him in and attack from behind, like he was some kind of dangerous wild animal they had cornered.

The problem with that idea, of course, was the fact that he simply outmatched them on a purely physical level. Given the bonuses from his [Experiences] and his natural [Stats], Clay was out of their league. Fighting them was going to be similar to a well-exercised [Youth] fighting [Children]. All he had to do was spot an opening.

He watched as they moved, mentally comparing how they stepped to the undead levies and sergeants that he’d fought in the Sarlwood. These soldiers obviously didn’t project the same kind of fear through their gaze, but they did have shields and moved a bit easier. They were moving too slowly; if he’d had access to his most powerful [Chants], half of them would have been speared by ice or lit on fire by now. Then again, he wasn’t exactly forcing their hand.

It was time to change that fact.

Clay waited for them to separate just a little more, allowing them to put a bit more distance between the pairs. He heard a few of the adventurers muttering to each other on the edges of the courtyard. Syr Katherine was watching with an evaluating look. It took a bit of an effort to block out all of those distractions and to focus on the way the soldiers moved. One of the pairs, the one on the left, was a bit more hesitant and worried than the others; the two [Guards] were both younger, and one of them looked like she hadn’t slept well. They’d probably move slower than their friends.

So he waited for them to take another few hesitant steps out to the side, and then charged the soldiers on the right, sprinting at full speed.

He heard the soldiers yelp and shout in surprise, but Clay knew that the sudden change would only give him a handful of moments. The soldiers ahead of him were already crouching down behind their shields, as if bracing for impact. They held their spears out in an attempt to impale him as he came in.

Clay swept their spears aside with his own. It was easy. His [Might] was half again higher than theirs, and they only had one hand on the weapon compared to his two. As they staggered a bit, their spears nearly knocked out of their grip, he let go of his own spear and drew the short sword he wore in place of his knife. He also began his first [Chant] in far too long, the Cycle of Return.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Syr Katherine flinch and take a half step forward. He ignored her and kicked the shield of the soldier in front of him, knocking them back and down from the hit. The other one tried to smash him with their spear, but he caught the haft with his offhand and yanked, pulling the man off balance. Before they could bring the shield up, Clay twisted and sent them staggering past him. Then he gave them a smack on the back with the flat of his short sword, knocking them into the path of the next two, who were charging in with their spears leveled.

While they shouted and cursed, Clay darted forward and caught the first [Guard] still rising. Another smack on the helmet knocked him down, and Clay sprinted past him to freedom.

When he turned back around, the remaining four [Guards] had lined up together, and were advancing as one. He saw them step past his fallen spear and forced himself not to grin. A couple of steps to the right put him in a better position as they continued forward, their shields locked and their spears ready to stab. They seemed a little confused when he sheathed his sword and spread his arms.

Then his [Chant] completed, and he heard a few surprised mutters as his practice spear abruptly jerked into motion, flying sideways towards him at an impressive clip. It caught three of the soldiers at around knee height, and they went down. The fourth soldier actually took a step back in surprise as the spear completed its journey and landed in Clay’s hand.

They hadn’t quite recovered before Clay charged, again sprinting across the courtyard. He ignored the one still standing and instead caught two of the downed [Guards] while they were still sprawled in the dirt. A tap on each of their helmets ended them; the third one managed to get his shield up just in time, and a desperate lunge from his partner made Clay dance back to avoid her spearpoint.

He circled as the two remaining soldiers faced him, their nervousness clear. Clay gave them a grin, which seemed to frustrate them a bit.

Their expressions didn’t get any better when he threw his sword at them.

It was a pathetic throw, one that clattered to the ground well before it reached the pair. They still shouted and darted forward, with one of them stomping down on the practice blade. Clay felt his smile grow. The move wouldn’t have stopped him from recalling it, but at least it would keep him from using it to trip them.

Not that he was planning on repeating such an obvious move.

He started a new [Chant]—or rather, the same [Chant], just reversed. Back in Pellsglade he’d called it Pursuing Leap; he idly wondered if the Academy had an actual name for it. As he circled, he caught sight of Syr Katherine staring at him with a blank expression, still tense. Clay refocused on the soldiers again, who were watching him warily as he spoke the [Chant] into the air.

As he reached the end of the spell, Clay launched himself forward. He took three strong strides and jumped almost straight up into the air. Below him, he heard the soldiers shout in alarm, shifting their feet.

Then the [Chant] activated, and suddenly Clay was hurtling towards the sword beneath the pair, at a speed that no normal [Commoner] could have expected. Clay slammed into the pair of shields feet first, and the soldiers went down immediately. He struck twice, quick darts of the spear that hit shoulder and helmet, and then jumped back.

Around him, the courtyard had gone silent. He looked back to Syr Katherine, who was looking at him with an inscrutable expression. Clay bowed to her, and then turned back to the soldiers, who were now starting to pick themselves up off the ground. The first of them looked a bit surprised, and then resentful, when he offered her a hand. “Easy to… beat on… [Commoners], huh? Does that give you adventurers a thrill?”

The venom in her voice almost made Clay laugh, but he could sympathize. It would never feel good for someone to waltz in and beat on them every so often. So instead, he simply nodded his head. “It must feel like that, huh? One thing, though. I’m a [Commoner] too.”

Her face went abruptly blank. Then she laughed. “Oh really? What’s next? You can fly?”

This time he did laugh, even while he helped pull her partner to his feet. “Kind of? Here, watch.”

The [Chant] for Floating Step didn’t take long, and the way the soldiers’ eyes widened when he suddenly started hovering above the courtyard floor was more than worth it. Clay skated around for a bit, helping another of the soldiers to their feet, and then let the [Chant] die.

When his feet were firmly on the ground again, Clay gave her a smile. “You might actually be able to learn that one yourself, you know. How high is your [Memory]?”

The soldier gave him a disbelieving look. “Uh, ten. Never been much for reading.”

“Well, if you can get it up to sixteen at some point, there’s plenty of stuff you could learn.” Clay looked around and saw the entire cluster of [Guards] looking at him with clear skepticism. He laughed again. “Yeah, I know. I didn’t think it was possible either. Still, what’s the harm?”

“Sir Clay.” Syr Katherine’s cool voice carried clearly over the courtyard, and he looked over to see the adventurer staring at him. “If I could have a moment of your time?”

The sarcasm in her voice was clear, and Clay winced. He still took a moment to shake the soldiers’ hands and thank them and then hurried over to where she was waiting. Her impatience was practically palpable, but he caught sight of the soldiers leaving the courtyard with baffled smiles on their faces. It made the delay well worth it.

Katherine took a moment to breathe before she spoke. “Needless to say, you’ve passed the initiate’s trial. Your use of [Chants] during the trial was irresponsible, however. Use of such spells is restricted to those who have more experience with them.”

He gave her a crooked grin, trying to restrain his immediate flare of resentment and anger. “Does killing a Guardian or two with them count as experience, Syr Katherine?”

She blinked. Then she started to recite a [Chant] that he instantly recognized. It was the Orison of Soul, the [Chant] used to check another hero’s [Gift], revealing their level and some of their abilities. Olivia had found it for him in the library of Pellsglade’s Shrine.

Olivia had also told him that using the Orison without permission was considered rude.

Without any hesitation, Clay started his own [Chant]. It wasn’t an offensive spell; it was just the reversed form of the Orison. He called it the Shroud of the Soul, though he wasn’t entirely sure what it would do. If anything, he guessed it was going to hide his [Gift]. He’d never actually used the Shroud before; he’d been happy to allow Syr Eliza to see his [Class] back in Pellsglade, and none of the other adventurers that he’d met had tried it since then.

Syr Katherine’s eyes widened slightly as she recognized what he was doing. Her own pronunciation of the words didn’t change, but she did seem to speed up slightly. Clay fought a grin and kept his own pace. Between [Warsinger] and [Banisher], he was relatively confident in his ability to block her in time.

He was congratulating himself as the effects of the [Chant] settled over him, just before Syr Katherine completed the Orison.

Clay had about two seconds to celebrate before the adventurer completed her own [Chant], and the force of her magic slammed into him with all the force of a battering ram.

The sheer mental impact of her power nearly took his breath away, and the Shroud came close to buckling under the pressure of her Orison. He saw Katherine’s eyes go abruptly wide and saw her take a half-step forward. Anger flared in her expression as well, but Clay simply met her gaze and grit his teeth. If he lost the fight, that was fine. She wasn’t going to get what she wanted without effort, though.

Katherine’s eyes flickered a little as he bore down in his efforts to resist her. She stepped back and crossed her arms, the pressure smashing down into him not diminishing at all. “Surprising. Do you have something to hide, Initiate?”

“It’s…polite…to ask…Syr.”

The words, ground out between gritted teeth, seemed to knock her off balance. The pressure bearing down on him abruptly vanished, and Clay felt himself abruptly sag in relief. He wasn’t sure that he’d have been able to keep up the effort for much longer. As it was, if she tried it again, she was getting through no matter what he tried.

{Will increased by 1!}

“So be it.” He looked up to see her studying him coolly, as if they hadn’t just engaged in a magical arm-wrestling contest. “May I use the Orison to assess you, Initiate?”

Clay considered the question. It wasn’t like he actually had anything to hide, after all. Still, he was tired of being patient. “Turnabout is fair play. Can I use it on you as well?”

Her lips quirked in what might have been an amused smile. It was gone in a heartbeat. “I see nothing wrong with it.”

Without waiting, she started the Orison again, and Clay followed suit. His head ached a little as he spoke the words of the [Chant]; previous experience told him he’d have a headache if he kept this up for much longer. Luckily, the pain in his skull hadn’t built to unmanageable levels before he completed the [Chant].

[Katherine Demills]

[Class: Calculator] {Level 16} Insight and Memory have a maximum of 40. Other Stats have a maximum of 21.)

[Subclass: Analyst (Gain 20% bonus against familiar opponents.)]

[Stats] {Might: 20} {Fortitude: 20} {Insight: 40} {Memory: 40} {Valor: 21} {Will: 21}

[Monsters Slain: 739]

His eyes widened for a moment as he considered her [Stats]. No wonder she’d been able to more or less crush him in their contest! Even with all his bonuses, she had a massive advantage over him. He was lucky that she’d decided that humbling him wasn’t worth the effort at the moment.

Katherine seemed to take a while studying the information the Orison had given her. Clay wondered, suddenly, if her greater ability meant that the [Chant] would offer her more information about his [Gift] and his history. She eventually shook her head. “It appears I underestimated the amount of experience you have, Sir Clay. I apologize.”

He nodded, trying not to feel off balance at the change in her attitude. Then she continued in an even voice. “We will have to give you additional training in how to use the [Chants] you’ve already discovered. A part of that training will be the use of oppositional [Chants]. Were you aware of what happens when someone else’s magic breaks through your own?”

Clay felt a bit of a chill run through him. He remembered the power straining against his own. “No. I’ve never had to deal with it before.”

“You will find out, then.” Katherine nodded. “Once you are a cadet, I will also give you certain books you will need to research within our library. That should allow you to begin uncovering new [Chants] as you train.”

He nodded again, feeling a sudden rush of excitement. Olivia had been careful to emphasize how important finding more [Chants] would be. Given how much his current magic had already helped him, it could only make him better at fighting the monsters he really wanted to fight.

“Thank you, Syr Katherine.” Then he paused, a thought occurring to him. “When can I take the next trial?”

Katherine raised an eyebrow, a rare smile crossing her face. “Are you so eager to advance in the Guild, Sir Clay?”

Clay shrugged and smiled. After all, the quicker he rose, the sooner he could head back home. The [Calculator] sighed. “We can organize a test for you within the next week. I don’t believe it would be wise to allow you to face it now, though I do admit you could do fairly well.”

He grimaced. A full week at the lowest rank in the Guild? “Are you sure, Syr? I am sure that I could pass the trial now.”

“You would need to be.” Katherine’s voice grew grim. “If you fail the trial, you will not be allowed to retake it for another three months. Many of our current initiates are here because they made an… error in judgment when attempting their own trial. Are you so confident that you don’t want to at least find out more about what is required?”

Clay blinked. He pictured remaining in the Academy until mid-winter as an initiate. “Waiting one week seems wise, Syr Katherine.”

“I’m glad you agree, Initiate.” Katherine glanced to the side, where some of the onlookers were still watching. “Please go visit Armsmaster Orn. He will speak with you about your equipment and arrange your physical training. Once you have spoken with him, you have an appointment with Master Taylor to discuss your other training. Be sure to bring the notes that your escorts mentioned you carried from Pellsglade.”

He nodded, and she made a dismissive gesture. Clay took that as a signal to bow and retreat. Michael the page was already waiting for him to show him the way.