Read Hilfords Chronicles: The Black Powder Incident Page 8


  Birchill’s office was usually a quiet place. Ezren had sat in there many times to talk with the Master about direction—as in, what direction was his life heading. Other times it was about applying himself to this or that. When properly motivated, Ezren could do just about anything. Birchill had said as much, on several occasions. It wasn’t often that he and Van were seated in Birchill’s office together. Once it was because they were snooping around Master Hall. Another time it was because they’d been jousting in the tiltyard, injuring a first-year scholar. Sometimes it was just to check in with the old man and see how he was doing.

  This time it was because Captain Torvik was livid at the aftermath of their involvement with the opium den case.

  “The good news,” Birchill began, “is that Torvik agreed not to mention your involvement in the black powder incident. I’m hoping you’ll only be mentioned positively, in regards to finding the missing girls from Overhill, and not in the same sentence as the word ‘explosion’.” Birchill paused to sip from small glass of whisky. “The bad news is, Torvik is angry. I’d steer clear if I were you.”

  Van and Ezren shared a look.

  “Blew up a house!” Birchill exclaimed. In spite of his serious tone, the old Master laughed heartily. “Can’t say I’ve heard of anything exploding around here before now.”

  Ezren sighed. “We didn’t blow anything up,” he said, tipping his head back against the chair.

  “That’s right,” Van said. “It was all Ezren. Not ‘we’.”

  “Someone was trying to kill me,” Ezren explained. “The fire just started. There was no way for me to stop any of that from happening.”

  Birchill waved a hand, the sleeve of his brown robe flapping around like a flag. “I’m not blaming you. You were asked to do something you, honestly, had no business doing. I think you did a fine job getting those girls out of the house.”

  Van shook his head and smirked. “That’s not fair, Martin. We put ourselves in danger.”

  Birchill laughed. “I know, I know. I’m just having some fun with you two.” The old Master leaned on his elbows.

  “You’re not angry?” Ezren asked.

  Birchill shook his head. “But if I can get to my point, Torvik is pretty upset. He actually thinks you two should be on the clean-up crew. Not only that. He wants you to go with him to the royal house and explain what happened.”

  Ezren and Van leaned back in their chairs and sighed.

  The old Master chuckled. “Don’t worry, I told him that no such thing would happen. You two deserve a break after yesterday. I told him you wouldn’t be available for anything for a while. Hopefully, the summer will be a quiet, peaceful one. You two can relax and think about the direction of your research for your post-scholar studies.”

  There wasn’t anything Ezren wanted to think about less than his post-scholar studies. He’d finished his basic studies in history. Now he was working with the vintner year-round. They qualified it as research, somehow. He thought Birchill was just being nice. He got the distinct feeling the Master didn’t want him to leave Hilfords.

  “I’m doing the archival, uh, whatever. You know. The library stuff,” Van explained.

  “Yes,” Birchill agreed. “You are. And a good job. But let’s try to find some real direction, if we can. You two are smarter than all that.”

  The scholars said nothing.

  “I won’t bother you about it again. Not until Harvest, anyway.”

  Ezren and Van breathed sighs of relief.

  “You’re the best, Martin,” Van said, standing up.

  “Can we go?” Ezren asked.

  Birchill nodded, smiling. The old Master leaned back in his chair and watched them go.

  …

  Ezren and Van walked the corridors.

  “Fox for lunch?”

  Van nodded. “Fox for lunch. Gotta get off this campus for a couple of hours, at least.”

  If there was anywhere they could go to get away for a while, without having to trek to the west side of town, The Dapper Fox was the place. In the middle of the day it’d be quiet and they could relax in the corner without any scholars or Masters to hassle them.

  “Well, that was fun,” Ezren said, scoffing at his own words.

  “I could hit you,” said Van. “I really could.”

  They passed through to Telroc Hall, making for the rear door to the campus.

  Ezren ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I just hope we don’t run into Torvik anytime soon.”

  Van pushed the creaky door open and stepped into the sun-drenched world outside.

  “There you are,” came a familiar voice.

  Ezren stepped into the doorframe, about to exit when he looked up and saw Torvik standing in the grass. “He’s going to kills us,” he whispered.

  Van turned and rolled his eyes. “Captain,” he said, turning back to the big man.

  Torvik looked serious but relaxed. “I know things didn’t go perfectly, and I’m sorry for my reaction yesterday. Truth is, it’s quite a mess. But that’s not all your fault.”

  Ezren stepped outside and pushed the door closed behind him. “It’s not?”

  Torvik half-smiled and shook his head. “No. And I just got a look at the books you grabbed on your way out. We’ve got more information than we could have hoped for. We know where the stuff is coming from and who set it all up. All the contacts and locations are listed.”

  Ezren wondered if Torvik was about to send them to Skazia on a mission. “That’s good,” he said. “Right?”

  The Captain gave a curt nod. “Very good,” he said. “Just thought you should know. A lot of good came out of all this. And those girls are on their way home to Overhill.”

  “Thanks,” said Van. “We were starting to feel like complete screw-ups.”

  Torvik nodded, again. “Well,” he said. “Gotta go. See you boys around.” The Captain strode off toward the street, through the gardens.

  “You think we’ll see him again anytime soon?” Ezren asked.

  “I hope not,” said Van.

  Ezren started walking toward the garden path with Van. They stepped onto the flagstone path that led through the gardens. Ezren hoped there’d be no more serious talk of what happened the day before. The best way to do that was to avoid everyone at Hilfords. He stepped left and right, walking between the hedges, crossing the center circle to the other side. Something small darted from hedge to hedge in front of him. He looked at Van, who shot him a side-eye glance that said, ‘yeah, I saw that, too’. The little ruddy-orange fox zipped back and forth, popping out on the path, finally, right in front of them. The little guy looked up at the scholars.

  “Sup guys?” said the fox.

  “Hey,” said Ezren.

  Van nodded.

  The fox ran off through the bushes and out onto the lawns that stretched back to Greyelm. Ezren and Van watched the bush tail bounce and wave in the spring breeze as the fox disappeared around the back of Hilfords.

 
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