Knights Magi (Book 4) Read Free

academies in the Kingdom, now, and they were in the process of kissing my arse devoutly.  I’d used their greed for irionite to get a few concessions, such as this special tutoring for my apprentices.  
    Tyndal wasn’t stupid, he was actually very bright.  But he lacked education.  Inarion should repair that, at least enough for the time being.  And Rondal, who was advanced even for a normal apprentice, would love the opportunity to dive into their libraries and learn from the very best academic magi.  
    “Then you’re both going to the War College at Relan Cor this spring,” I continued.  “Tyndal, you will improve your mastery of swordplay and take formal classes for warmagic.  You’ve mastered the basics of combat, but you need polishing to become a truly impressive warmage.  And Rondal, I’ve arranged for you to be initiated into the Mysteries of Duin.”
    I heard them both suck in their breath, again with good reason.  
    The Mysteries were legendary.  Legendary for their brutality and rigor.  Duin the Destroyer, war god of my ancestors, had stolen them from Gobarba, the old Imperial war god, and now all the gods seemed to prefer them.  I’d endured them myself, in abbreviated form, when I was drafted.  To my knowledge there was no better way to turn a man into a soldier than the Mysteries.  That didn’t make them comfortable or pleasant, however.
    But Rondal needed it.  Tyndal was a bit of a bully, I knew, and while Rondal was fairly good-natured, he needed to learn how to fight back.   Without involving me.  Rondal was smart, but he wasn’t strong.  Tyndal was strong but he wasn’t smart.  Rondal whined.  Tyndal bitched.
    “Aw!” complained Tyndal, looking at Rondal for the first time.  “You’re lucky!  Why him and not me?”
    “Because you’re going to be spending the first two weeks he’s there on additional study at Inarion,” I explained.  “And because you don’t really need them, not the way he does.”
    “ He gets advanced training?” protested Rondal.  “That’s unfair!  Master, of the two of us I am—”
    “—going to be enjoying a lovely spring in southern Castal, learning the ancient and honorable trade of the infantryman,” I said, dreamily.  “But that’s not all.  When your terms at Relan Cor are up, you will return here . . . and spend some time learning what it means to be a knight mage.”
    “What does it mean to be a knight mage?” asked Rondal.  As both the term and the institution were new, he had a fair point.
    “That’s what we’re going to find out,” I promised.  “I understand your confusion – I have no more idea how to be a . . . whatever it is I am than you do how to be a knight mage.  Fair enough.  But you’re going to figure it out.  You’re going to learn warcraft.  You’re going to learn spellcraft.  And you’re going to learn chivalry.”
    That earned a grin from Tyndal and a scowl from Rondal.  I ignored both.  
    “Master, whatever I did, I’m sorry—” Rondal began, sullenly.
    “I’m not doing this because I want to punish you, torture you or send you away.”
    “So why are you doing it, then?” Tyndal asked. I considered.  That was a fair question.
    “So that you will be more useful to me,” I explained.  “I have six jobs for every one of me in this clockwork of magic, military, and bureaucracy I’ve built, and I need men I can trust to keep it working right.  Whatever other problems you give me, I know I can trust you two.  
    “You need to learn chivalry because if we are going to see the profession of magic elevated to the nobility, we damn sure need to establish some boundaries for it.  Knights magi will someday, I hope, be the tool we need to strike back at the Dead God.  But without the structure and discipline implicit in chivalry, that tool may well turn back on the people who it is supposed to protect.”
    “I don’t much like jousting,” Rondal pointed out.
    “And I