The next morning, the boys served breakfast, but the Preceptor wasn’t there. Sir Berne and the other knights had drilled them hard all the previous afternoon and into the evening, until the light failed, to try and keep their minds off the death of Ragni. Rosa had said almost nothing to Bria and Adelyn but had given them a tearful hug when they came to settle down for the night.

For the next two days Sir Berne didn’t slacken the pace. They trained with quarterstaffs and wooden bladed halberds until they were practically falling over with exhaustion.

Bria, Adelyn and Jemryn were setting the table for the evening meal on the second day when the Preceptor returned.

He plumped down onto one of the benches. ‘Are Nia and Lars back yet?’

‘No Preceptor’ said Bria as she put a jug of chilled ale and a leather jack down in front of him. ‘They were heading for the north-eastern coast because there’s usually an offshore breeze. They won’t be back until tomorrow evening at the earliest.’ She hesitated for a second.

The Preceptor divined her unspoken question ‘Ragni’s funeral was a simple ceremony. His parents were distraught, as you might expect. He had been sending most of his wages home to cover his sister’s dowry as his father is too old to work the smithy now. I came from the king just now and he will give them a pension.’

‘And the dowry?’ Bria wanted to know.

‘I didn’t ask. I thought perhaps the knights and recruits might cover that.’ the Preceptor replied. ‘How is Camryn?’

‘The duchess sent a message this afternoon’ Said Bria. ’She’s awake but very weak. We can go and visit her tomorrow for a few minutes. The duchess sent a message for you, too! Sir Henrik has it.”

The Preceptor sighed. ‘As good as we could hope then. The duchess is … formidable, and I don’t think she will be entirely happy, possibly with reason. Jemryn, do you have any secrets to tell me?’

Jemryn looked startled. ‘Um no, I mean yes or maybe. When I talked to the armourer, my eyes started to itch and water. He said it was a dragon using my eyes but that it might be a folk tale. If a dragon can use other people’s eyes, how can anyone fight them or even keep a secret from them?’

The Preceptor frowned ‘Dragons may indeed do such things, but there are other creatures that can do the same, including some humans and this is an old palace with hidden secrets, as we have found to our cost. What were you looking at?’

Stolen novel; please report.

‘Your letter, sir’ replied Jemryn. ‘The armourer can’t read.’

‘Not many commoners can.’ Replied the Preceptor. ‘We’ve tried several times to start schools in the city, but they’ve never really taken hold. The other islands have had better success. In answer to your question, the Southern Hall and the garden are warded against interference, as are our helms. It’s difficult enough to fight dragons without them meddling in your thoughts whilst you do it. The Lore master is a gifted mage and may know more of shields and scrying.’

‘He’s a real mage!’ breathed Jemryn.

‘Oh yes’ The Preceptor smiled. ‘Good luck getting a spell out of him though.’

At that point the boys trooped in, so the conversation stopped, and the usual bustle of the evening meal began.

As they were about to sit down, a tiny glowing dragon flitted through the door, carrying a scrap of paper. All the recruits watched it in astonishment as it zoomed down the centre of the table and dropped the scrap in front of the Preceptor before vanishing.

‘Jemryn, I take it back about getting a spell out of the Lore Master.’ The Preceptor picked up the scrap of paper and read it. ‘There is food out so he may not enter. Please do not stand upon ceremony. Begin eating and I will be back shortly’

The recruits had barely filled their plates before the Preceptor was back with a face like thunder.

‘Sir Henrik, do you organise tonight’s duties? Include one recruit in each watch. I must go and see the King. Bria, walk with me and finish eating when you may. All of you stay here in the refectory until we return.’

Bria stood up and looked regretfully at her barely started plate of food before turning and following the Preceptor into the garden.

‘Why the garden Preceptor? I thought we were going to the king.’

‘The garden is shielded against scrying, as is the Southern Hall. None can enter the garden without getting past all the knights and the candidates, not to mention Jemryn, who is turning into a one-man spy service. The Southern Hall may not be quite so secure against listeners from the shadows. And I have cause to be wary. Vann’ sudden urge to rush out to Jemryn’s rescue the other day was … odd. The Southern Hall should be safe. Jemryn’s dragon-eye itch was not unheard of but an unusual coincidence. My own sudden impetuous request women to join the guard. Something or somethings are perhaps taking an interest. And now the LoreMaster’

‘The Loremaster?’ queried Bria.

The Preceptor’s scowl deepened. ‘The Lore Master said that he had found no mention of how the poison was made but suggested that fitting Camryn with armour might hasten her recovery. It’s possible but I think it would be a disaster. The armour is steeped in dragon’s blood and the poison was intended to combat dragons.’

Bria blinked as she absorbed the information. ‘Why would the Lore Master suggest such a thing then?’

The Preceptor looked over to the closed door to the archives. ‘It may be a simple mistake or perhaps something has subtly tampered with his mind. The suggestion has a beguiling logic to it and I have no proofs, only suspicions. Do you go and check the suggestion with Rosa? If she tells you no, then you and Adelyn take turns at staying with Camryn until Nia’s armour is safely back in the ladies’ barracks.’

He looked at her. ‘Can you also ask her about old spells and whether they might recently have failed?’