A Dream of the Heaven

Chapter 10 (Part 1 of 2)

Chapter 10

Isendrin

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Early the next morning, Isendrin left his manor and rode to House Exodus.  He had slept well, awakening fresh and alert without any ill effects from the previous night’s wine.  The day was ordered: he would visit Imlon and then he would practice.  He had not trained since leaving Temenesta for Crown’s, nearly a month ago, but before that he had been fencing every day as he had done for years.  Aventine had a fearsome reputation.  It did not trouble Isendrin.

House Exodus was hardly ten minutes from the northern end of Jewelcutters and he soon arrived at the gatehouse, where the porter admitted him to the quadrangle.  It was a peaceful place, with a chapel across the lawn on the opposite side, a hall adjacent and rooms for a great many students in the rest of the stern grey building, shrouded in a little veil of summer morning mist.  It was deserted, but the faint chanting coming from the chapel indicated that the morning service was being sung.

“First Office will conclude in five minutes, sir,” said the porter as Isendrin dismounted.  “Do you wish to see anyone in particular?”

“Imlonavar Held.  He has just taken up rooms.”

“Ah, the former Astronomer Royal?  His acceptance has caused quite a stir here.  I shall bring him as soon as the office is done.  Whom shall I say is inquiring?”

“His brother.”

The porter’s eyes widened.  “Very good, my lord.” 

He scampered away.

A few minutes later, following a last, low chant that drifted out from the chapel, many men in black gowns began to emerge onto the quadrangle.  There were about a hundred of them, some of them young students with no ornament on their dress, others older fellows and masters of the House with blue lining on their gowns and caps.  As they made their way to the college hall for breakfast, Isendrin saw one of them leave the main group and walk towards him around the lawn.  Imlon already wore the garb of a fellow of the House.

“Good morning,” said the astronomer.

“Likewise,” replied Isendrin, “I need to speak to you, in private.”

Imlon glanced back at the hall – the smell of fresh bread wafted from the kitchens nearby – before turning back with a face of resignation.  “Of course.  We’ll go to my room.”

They walked into the building opposite the hall, climbing the winding stone steps until they arrived at a long, low corridor.  Isendrin kept ducking under the stone arches and had to watch his tread on the uneven flagged floor, but when Imlon opened the door to his lodgings he was pleasantly surprised.  His brother’s room was more like two: a small space through a low archway, filled by a bed, some shelves and a sturdy chest, adjoined a larger area with a broad table, chairs, a homely fireplace and other simple furniture.  Thin, shapely windows looked down on the quadrangle, affording Imlon a good view of the comings and goings at the House.  The table was already covered with papers and books.

“You did well to get this room,” said Isendrin.

His brother looked around with a wistful look on his face.  “Yes.  They’ve been very welcoming.  But I suspect they’ll be keeping an eye on what I get up to in here.  Please, sit.”

“No, I shouldn’t stay long.”

“Good.  I could do with some breakfast.”

“It’s tomorrow’s breakfast you should worry about,” said Isendrin.  For all his forethought about the day ahead, he had not worked out how to tell his brother what had happened.  Imlon’s features stayed upright and alert, but a visible worry had entered his eyes.  Best to get it done with, thought Isendrin.