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‘Mistress Ader,’ whispered Valannie, very softly.

‘What did you say? Adder?’ Clariel whispered back. ‘Like a snake?’

‘No, no, “ay-der”,’ whispered Valannie. ‘Now we must be quiet, and give her a low bow.’

The name still sounded like ‘adder’ to Clariel. Mistress Ader didn’t look much like an adder, she thought. Clariel quite liked adders. They left you alone if you left them alone. In fact, she quite liked snakes in general. They had their place in the woods and among the rocky hills. Also you could eat them; they were quite tasty cooked on hot stones in the corner of a campfire.

Up close, Mistress Ader was a lot older than Clariel had thought she was. Her face was so heavily caked with the white, claylike stuff Valannie called ‘astur’ and in Estwael was called ‘esture’ that from a distance she looked about thirty-five. Up close, the wrinkles under the white were visible, so Clariel upped her age estimate by at least thirty years. If she had a Charter mark, it was invisible under the clay.

‘Lady Clariel,’ said Ader, making a low bow herself. ‘Welcome to the Belisaere Select Academy.’

‘Thank you, Mistress … uh … Ader,’ said Clariel, hoping that she’d said it right.

‘We are delighted you could attend,’ said Ader. ‘Valannie, you have done well. Lady Clariel is presented adequately. You may join the other maids in the Panelled Chamber, until you are summoned.’

Valannie, for once, didn’t say anything, but simply bowed and retreated.

‘Now, stand straight, Lady Clariel, and we shall talk,’ said Ader.

Clariel thought she was standing up straight, but she pushed her shoulder blades back a little and moved her feet apart a few inches. Ader sat down in her chair, though her back remained completely straight and she did not relax at all.

‘This Academy prepares the young of the notable families of the Kingdom to move in polite society,’ she said. ‘Before a student takes their place in it, Lady Clariel, I like to discuss with them the path they intend to take, for this may shape some elements of our teaching.’

‘The path?’ asked Clariel.

‘Your plans for the future,’ said Ader. ‘Do you wish to be married soon? No? Many of the young ladies here do, and if that is so, then they have more lessons concerned with the supervision of a household, selection of a doctor, on childbirth, on setting up a nursery and so forth.’

‘I have no desire to be married,’ said Clariel firmly. ‘Or to have children.’

‘You do not?’ asked Mistress Ader. ‘You prefer some more unconventional arrangements?’

‘No,’ said Clariel. Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to think of the best way to explain. ‘I … I like to go my own way, without needing anyone else.’

‘Very few people need no one else,’ said Ader.

‘I mean I don’t need to be with someone, married or tied down,’ said Clariel.

‘Marriage need not be a shackling together of the unwilling,’ said Mistress Ader. ‘But it is not impossible that you are a natural singleton. You are not apprenticed, I believe? You do not wish to follow in your parents’ footsteps? Or is it that you have no ability?’

There appeared to be no insult in Ader’s voice. Just calm curiosity. Clariel felt as if she were an object, being weighed up and examined, and, once identified, to be put in the appropriate place, just as she herself had often sorted coins by type and weight and mint, and placed them in the correct niche within the great chest in her father’s office.

‘I have done some work with my mother, but not to her satisfaction, so it seems that I lack the native talent to be a goldsmith,’ said Clariel, not bothering to mention that she had deliberately sabotaged her own work, because she did not want to be like her mother, did not want to be trapped inside by forge and workbench. ‘Though I do assist my father in the exchange of monies, lending, the keeping of accounts and so forth.’

‘That is good,’ said Ader. ‘If you did not already know how to read a book of accounts, we would have to teach you. But tell me, is there no other craft you wish to follow? Your parents could surely have you indentured wherever you would choose.’

‘No trade,’ muttered Clariel.

‘Please, you must open your mouth and speak clearly,’ said Ader. ‘At all times. This is a rule of the Academy, but also a good guide in life. Speak clearly and you will never be misunderstood.’

‘I do not wish to be apprenticed to any trade,’ said Clariel, quite loudly. ‘I do not want to belong to any Guild.’

‘You are fortunate to be of the Goldsmiths’ Guild, by blood,’ said Ader. ‘Much more fortunate than you seem to be aware. I shall ensure that you are taken on a tour of th

e Flat, where the day labourers live. But the question remains, if we are to teach you most effectively, we need to know your intentions for the future. Do you, for example, wish to become a guard?’

‘No,’ said Clariel. ‘I can fight, if need be, with sword and dagger and I am considered an able archer. But I have no desire to march about, and bellow orders, or take them for that matter. Or live among many, in a barracks.’

‘You would, of course, be an officer, and not live in barracks,’ said Ader. ‘The Goldsmiths maintain a large company, and there would be a place for you. But if that was your intention, then I would send you there at once, for soldiering is a trade best learned young. So tell me, is there some path that you do wish to follow?’

‘Yes,’ said Clariel reluctantly. She hesitated, sure that she was about to invite the scorn of this elegant, poised woman, then said, ‘I want to join the Borderers, and live in the Great Forest.’

One painted eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch, but there was no other obvious reaction and no immediate outpouring of derision.

‘Curious,’ said Ader, at last. ‘Perhaps I begin to understand more of your desire to be solitary.’

‘In the right place,’ said Clariel. ‘The Forest.’

‘Your parents, I presume, do not support you in this ambition?’

‘No.’

‘I am not overly familiar with the organisation of the Borderers,’ said Ader. ‘Their chief house is near Hafmet, is it not?’

‘Yes,’ said Clariel, surprised that Ader knew even that. The Forest fort called Greenstilts was only a few leagues from the town of Hafmet, and it was there that the Borderers’ senior officers dwelled, the stores and records were kept, a hospital maintained and, most importantly as far as Clariel was concerned, recruits were trained.

‘But they do not take in anyone who has not already been a forester, wood-warden or suchlike for some years,’ said Ader. ‘Five years, if I remember aright.’


Tags: Garth Nix Abhorsen Fantasy