Death & Magic (The Barefoot Healer, volume I)

Death & Magic chapter 21

Trying to keep her voice calm, she said, “You’re pathetic.”

Grenur raised his eyebrows, but before he could respond any further, Degoran’s voice came from the doorway. “Apprentice Adramal, please don’t insult or belittle Apprentice Grenur.” Grenur grinned. Adramal wanted to sink beneath the flagstones.

Degoran entered the room. He gazed at Grenur and said, “That’s my job.” Grenur’s face fell, and the other apprentices laughed.

After the lesson, Adramal wandered around the middle ward looking for Perinar. He might be able to show her a hiding place to spy on the teachers during dinner, if only she could think of a plausible reason to want him to do that. Behind her, someone called her name. Tensing, she turned to see the servant she’d sent to Darund-Kerak that morning.

“I brought your book, Mistress,” he said. He took it out of a bulky leather satchel he had slung over his shoulder.

“Oh! Thank you. I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

“I took the grey mare, Mistress. Hispar asked me to send you her good wishes. Chavaen says he misses you.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to make of that. “I should pay you for fetching this, shouldn’t I?”

“It’s not my place to say, Mistress.”

She doubted he would refuse money if she offered, though. “Come with me. My money is in my room.” He followed her to the senior apprentices’ quarters and upstairs to her room. She gave him a silver for fetching the book and a couple of coppers for doing it faster than she expected.

“So tell me,” she said, “supposing I had to go to Darund-Kerak myself, could I take one of the horses?”

“I’m afraid not, mistress. Only the teachers and those of us who work in the stables are allowed to ride them.”

She tried not to smile at the thought of Lorgrim on a horse. “There’s a carriage at the side of the stables, isn’t there?” Maybe Lorgrim used that instead.

“The chaise is the same, Mistress. Apprentices can ride in it with a teacher’s permission, but they’re not allowed to drive it themselves.”

“Supposing I got permission to ride in the chaise, then,” she said, “would you drive me there?”

“Yes, Mistress, if the stable master will excuse me from my duties.”

“What’s your name?”

He blinked. After a moment, he replied, “Dalbren, Mistress.” Perhaps she was the first apprentice to ask him that.

“Well, Dalbren, could you take me this Mathran’s Day?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“What about All Gods?”

Dalbren rubbed his chin. “The chaise is usually out the whole of that day, Mistress.”

“Doing what?”

“Someone takes it out the night before.”

She hesitated. This might be exactly what she needed to find the murderer. “Who is it? I’ll ask him if I can go with him, if he happens to be going in the right direction.”

“I don’t know who it is, Mistress,” he said, shaking his head.

She tutted. He might be lying, but she couldn’t risk pressing him. “Well, never mind.” She fished another silver out of her purse. “Here’s something for your trouble.”

Dalbren smiled broadly. “Thank you, Mistress. Much obliged.”

He stood there, looking to one side of her, and she remembered she had to tell him he could go. She swallowed and said, “You’re dismissed.”