The Rage Eater

Chapter 13: Augustus

The next morning, Sadie sat at the front of a narrow classroom in an old, uncomfortable wooden desk, watching Master Sanders intently. He was far younger than most of the professors, with a head of tightly coiled black hair, and dark brown eyes, which gleamed with intensity.

"Traditionally, the study of history has been the specialty of a single great Clan," Master Sanders said, pacing as he spoke. "Which is?"

Sadie's hand shot up. So did Tim's.

"Yes, I know you know, Tim," said Master Sanders. "Sadie?"

"Clan Terrin, sir."

"Their words?"

"Wisdom follows knowledge."

"Good," Master Sanders said, turning and pacing again. "Now, for much of our history, we have meticulous records, from gory details of battles to poetic descriptions of nobles' chamber pots."

At least half of the students chuckled.

"But," Master Sanders said seriously, "go any further than the Age of the King—beyond 800, 900 years—and there's nothing. No books, no letters, no scraps of parchment. It's as if a piece of history has been ripped from time."

Aubrey's hand shot up, which Master Sanders acknowledged with a nod.

"Do you think that was purposeful?" Aubrey asked. "That some group, or someone, was trying to hide something?"

Master Sanders scratched his cheek as he considered the question. "I do, yes. But we can only speculate. Now, I ask you this: Why would anyone try to erase our past?"

The room slipped into silence.

Then, Tim slowly raised his hand. "H-h-hiding the past is a way of c-c-controlling the future."

From the back, Nicolas let out a loud, prolonged yawn as he reclined in his chair.

"Are we not entertaining enough for you, Nicolas?" said Master Sanders.

"Positively riveting, sir. I'm just unsure how history will help me bloody an orc or Sadie mop up the vomit in mommy's tavern."

A few of the students laughed, but Sadie forced herself to look ahead. She wouldn't give Nicolas the satisfaction of seeing her react. And she knew that the sight of his smug face would only infuriate her further.

Master Sanders stood still, drawing a deep breath as the class settled. "Would anyone other than me care to defend the study of history?"

"Yes, Sadie."

"Because history is a teacher," Sadie said. "It helps us learn from our mistakes. Even military ones. The best Warriors know how each great battle was lost. That way they don't do the same thing again and get themselves killed." Sadie turned, flashing Nicolas a wicked grin.

He looked stunned, but quickly regained his composure. "But haven't all those lessons already been integrated into our various military strategies? Or are you saying that Master Dao's teaching is somehow lacking?"

Master Sanders sighed. "Sadie is right. History is a great tutor to every Warrior, as even Master Dao would admit. But history's lessons extend far beyond the battlefield." Master Sanders trained his dark eyes on Nicolas, who seemed to shrink under the intensity of his gaze.

"Long before you were born, in the Age of the King, Augustus Bilton led your Clan. He was a man of great pride and ostentatious tastes. Every surface in his chambers was gilded, every piece of armour forged from the finest steel and adorned with the finest jewels. But his greed, as all things do, came at a cost. His advisers warned him of this, begged him to read the histories of great men and women undone by their love of gold, rulers unable to fund their armies and feed their people. But Augustus ignored their pleas. Instead, he raised the taxes. The rich grew poorer, and the poor hungrier. And when that wasn't enough to pay for all his extravagances, Augustus raised the taxes again.

"After he had raised the taxes a fourth and fifth time, Augustus rode his bull into the capital, eager to check on the progress of a marble statue of his likeness in the city square. Upon his arrival, he came across a group of peasants, sickly thin and dressed in tattered rags. One of the peasants hurled a rotten apple at his head. Another threw a rotten cabbage. Augustus unsheathed his sword, ready to have their heads. Then came the rocks. The first one spun him sideways. The next one knocked him down. The final one crushed his skull."

The class was silent. Sadie turned around. Nicolas' mouth was agape, his eyes bulging with horror.

"We can choose to ignore the lessons of history, Nicolas. But we do so at our own peril."