The Outcast (Summoner #4)

He turned to Harold and cocked his head.

“Happy?” he asked. Harold nodded curtly, and Alfric strode away, heading for a door behind the thrones. The nobles trailed after him, and a moment later the door slammed, leaving the room in silence.

Only a servant remained, his back straight, eyes staring straight ahead.

“Kercher, find those guards and stop them from beating that dwarf, on my orders. Hurry,” Harold commanded, pointing at the double doors. The servant scurried off, and a few moments later the doors slammed shut.

Harold sighed and walked over to the throne Alfric had been sitting in. He sat down heavily, and pressed his fingers against his eyelids.

“I didn’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

Arcturus walked over to him and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. For that was what he was … a boy. It was easy to forget sometimes.

“Things can be better now,” Arcturus said, though he himself struggled to believe his own words. “You have some power. You can make a difference.”

“With those lackeys on the council?” Harold said, gesturing over his shoulder. “They’re the worst of the worst. I’ll never make things better for anyone.”

“You made some promises in your speech that they will be forced to keep, if they want to avoid another uprising,” Arcturus said firmly, “and if you bide your time, you will be able to change things. Don’t despair.”

Harold looked up and smiled at Arcturus, and Arcturus saw the new king’s eyes were filled with tears.

“You’re a braver man than I, Arcturus. I am glad to have you on my side.”

“Always, my king,” Arcturus said.

Harold wiped the tears from his face and stood.

“Sergeant Caulder, Sergeant Percival, Sergeant Daniels. Kneel,” Harold commanded.

The three men knelt before their king, while their soldiers looked on, bemused.

Harold drew his sword, and for a brief moment of madness, they looked at him with fear in their eyes. Was he killing them, to keep this silent?

“My king, we would never tell anyone about…,” Sergeant Caulder began.

“Quiet, you idiot,” Harold said affectionately. “I may be powerless, but I can still do this.”

He laid his sword on the sergeant’s shoulder and spoke three words.

“Rise … Sir Caulder.”





CHAPTER

61

“ARCTURUS, PROVOST FORSYTH WANTS to see you,” Elizabeth said, knocking on Arcturus’s door and poking her head in.

It had been two weeks since the battle, and Arcturus was finally getting used to being back at Vocans. He had hoped it might be Ulfr knocking on his door, but he had not seen the dwarf since their return.

Harold assured him that the dwarf was unharmed, even if he now hated humans more than ever.

“Do you know why?” Arcturus asked, looking up from his desk.

“He didn’t say,” Elizabeth replied, biting her lip. “But he seemed in a good mood.”

“That could mean anything.” Arcturus sighed, putting aside his quill and blowing on the scroll he had been writing on. It was a treatise on the anatomy of the Nandi, and it was due to be handed in to Scipio within the hour. Now it would be late.

It was strange to be back in class. He had thought that the memories of their escape from Vocans would tarnish the place, make it seem darker.

Yet somehow, the old castle seemed even happier than it had been before. No more Crawley, no more doubts about his place in the world. Sure, Zacharias was still there and hated Arcturus with the same passion as before. But he had friends now, and not just Elaine and Elizabeth.

“Mind if I walk with you?” Elizabeth asked.

“Sure,” Arcturus said.

Arcturus had finally been moved from his cold little space in the tower. Not because of special treatment, but because it was being renovated to accommodate the common students, who would be arriving any day now.

Of course, there was plenty of room for them elsewhere in the castle, but Provost Forsyth had decided they should not be treated the same as nobles. He didn’t want them getting any ideas above their station.

What that meant was, Arcturus was now temporarily in the east wing, so the walk to the provost’s office was not a long one, just a single flight of stairs and a walk down the central corridor of the top floor.

“So … we haven’t had a chance to talk,” Elizabeth said as he joined her out in the passageway. “Are you okay?”

Arcturus shrugged and looked at his feet.

“Edmund is fully recovered, and none of my friends died,” he said, thinking of Rotter. The soldier had come by to pay his respects a few days before, but since then, nobody seemed to know where he had gone. He would miss the rascal.

“Is Sacharissa recovering well?” Elizabeth asked.

Arcturus smiled, and felt Sacharissa twitch with recognition at her name within his consciousness.

“As well as can be expected,” he replied. “She hates being infused, but I need to keep her that way so she heals faster. I’m told she’ll make a full recovery.”

They turned onto the balcony, and far below, Arcturus saw Elaine and Scipio. She was clapping her hands with delight, and above her, a ball of opaque energy floated. Her first shield.

“She’s coming along well,” Elizabeth said approvingly, mounting the stairs.

They walked on, and Arcturus sensed Elizabeth wasn’t just there to keep him company.

“Arcturus, you should know,” Elizabeth began, hesitating. “Rook and Charles … well … they’re being privately tutored by their parents, away from the academy. But you’ll likely see them again. There’s a tournament before students graduate, in a few years’ time. You’ll have to duel them—it’s a competition for commissions in the army. The whole thing will be under supervision but students get injured every time. I just wanted to tell you.”

Arcturus turned to her and grinned.

“This is great news,” he said as they turned onto the corridor. “I’ll be ready for them then.”

“You’re happy?” Elizabeth said, smiling back. “Oh thank heavens, I thought you’d be upset—they’ll try to hurt you, you know. And they won’t fight fair.”

“I’m more than happy,” Arcturus said. “Let them try—I’d relish the chance to face them in battle. Now you’ve given me something to work toward. They’ll regret ever coming back here.”

Elizabeth stopped him and gave him a quick hug.

“You’re a brave lad, Arcturus,” she said. “But … if you need private lessons, just ask.”

“Count on it,” Arcturus said.

He watched her as she walked away. The woman had saved him several times over. He would never be able to repay her. But perhaps he could look out for her unborn child some day.

Still, there was always a wall between them, for the teacher-student divide was too great. And he felt the same way with the others, even Elaine. They were nobles, and he was a commoner. They would never be truly on equal footing—they led such different lives. Even in these past few weeks, as they laughed and ate together in the warmth of the dining hall, Arcturus felt out of place.

He was not like them, and never would be. And there were others like him, out in the far reaches of Hominum. Yet there he sat, eating and laughing with the rich, while they starved and shivered in their orphanages.

“Well, let’s get this over with,” Arcturus muttered, continuing down the corridor.

As he walked, he tried not to think of what had happened here, not two weeks before. How he had killed a man, snapped his neck with the flick of a finger.

Sometimes he would return to that spot, alone in the night, and consider the consequences of what he had done. He would remember the power he held was not to be taken lightly, and that if he had known more, he might have not been forced to kill.

In the early hours, when he lay awake in bed, he would wonder if the world would be a different place had he not taken that man’s life. Could you regret something if you’d been given no other choice? Arcturus thought so.

The provost’s office door loomed, and Arcturus steeled himself and knocked on the door.

“Come!” called a voice.