"Lord Umurhan has the reputation of being a jealous man, Gubadan had told him. He doesn't like students or priests who show off their intelligence or powers. So beware, my lad. Every teacher doesn't receive his reward from guiding a young man to heights they could never achieve themselves. Go carefully in Lord Umurhan's presence, is my best advice to you. And never, never show him up."
Safar took Gubadan's advice to heart. As he progressed through his classes and spell-casting sessions he was always careful not to outshine Umurhanalthough it soon became apparent to him that he could, especially as he learned more and delved on his own into the arcane arts of sorcery. He occasionally made purposeful mistakes when he thought Umurhan was becoming suspicious. Umurhan always took particular pleasure when Safar pretended to bumble, chastising him loudly, calling him a mountain bumpkin and other names intended to humiliate.
Umurhan loved to lord his mastery over the acolytes. He also held back his knowledge. When the classes became more advanced and the students were closing the ground on Umurhan, he protected his self esteem by teaching only so much and no more. When a spell was particularly powerful Umurhan tended to make his explanations so obscure no one could follow them, much less duplicate the spell. He also had a way of excusing himself when a thorny question was asked. He'd nervously plead other business, disappear for a short time, then return and answer the question with a confidence his previous demeanor hadn't shown.
Where he went during that time was no mystery to any of the students. They were at a cynical age, an age when details older people might overlook were easily apparent to them. It was an open secret Umurhan retired to his private library during those moments, cribbing from ancient masters to shore up his own facade. No one but Umurhan was allowed to peruse the books in that library. The excuse given was that there were forbidden books and scrolls on the black arts stored there that were so deadly, so evil, that no one but the High Priest of Walaria should read themand then only in an emergency and only to ward off black spells cast against the city.
Safar's intense curiosity had led him to investigate the library. The library did contain material on black magic. But it was mainly a massive and confused collection of knowledge gathered by Umurhan's predecessorsrare scrolls, books by forgotten masters, volumes in strange languages and hand-written dictionaries of those languages, with magical symbols added by later men as marginalia. Using the books at Foolsmire, Safar had gradually deciphered the languages. His late night studies and secret visits put him on the trail of Asper, the ancient master of all master wizards, who also happenedSafar suspectedto have been a demon. One of the bits of marginalia even gave him strong reason to believe Asper's work was hidden somewhere in the chaos that was Umurhan's private library.
He'd been searching for it when he was discovered.
Safar crouched in the darkest of the library, a candle stub his only aid, as he hurriedly combed through cob-webbed scrolls and books with cracked bindingsearching for the strange, four-headed snake symbol he knew to be Asper's seal.
Then an oil lamp had flared into life behind him and he whirled to find Umurhan hovering over himeyes blazing like spear points fresh from the forge.
"What are you doing here, acolyte? he thundered.
Safar fumbled excuses"Forgive me, Master. I was worried about the exam and, I, uh… uh… I thought I, uh…"
"Are you claiming to be a cheat, Safar Timura? Umurhan roared. Is that your puny reason for violating my privacy?"
"Ye-es, Mas-ttter, ye-ye-yes, Safar stuttered.
"Then why are you among the forbidden books, acolyte? Umurhan shouted. He pointed down the narrow aisle to the front of the library. Why didn't I find your filthy, cheating personage up there? Why weren't you stealing your answers from writings that have not been condemned?"
Safar wanted to shout that no knowledge should be forbidden. And that, as a matter of fact, even the supposed innocent works in this library were denied to all but Umurhan. Instead, Safar pretended to panicwith Umurhan looming over him it wasn't hardbabbling that he was only trying to hide from the light and had come here by accident. He streamed forth such a mad babble of half-confessions and false apologies and pleas for mercy that Umurhan's suspicions were quieted.
"Silence, Umurhan shouted, cutting Safar off in mid babble. You do understand I could have you seized this moment and charged with heresy?"
"Yes, Master, Safar answered, humble as he could.
"The only reason I'm not going to do so is that I believe you are nothing more than a low cheat."
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master. I'm sorry, Master. It won't happen again, Master."
"Oh, I know you won't do it again, Acolyte Timura. I will see to that. I will withhold my punishment just now. I want you to contemplate your sins while I consider your fate."
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master."
"The only reason I'm not immediately expelling you… or worse, by the gods, because I could do much worse! You understand that, don't you acolyte."
"Yes, Master. I understand."
"The sole reason I don't condemn you on the spot is because of the respect I have for your mentor, Lord Muzine. For some reason I shall never fathom he has a certain regard for your future and well being."
"Yes, Master, Safar mumbled, knocking his head on the ground. But he knew that what Umurhan was really remembering was the lioness and her ghost.
Although Safar had never been called into Muzine's company, his allowance had been increased after the incident. It had been coldly announced by Muzine's major domo, who harshly cautioned him about ever mentioning the ceremony or the event. It was plain to him now Umurhan feared the incident would get out if Safar's crime became a public matter. Questions would be raised about the sin Muzine wanted expunged. And even greater questions would be asked about the quality of Umurhan's magic. How could such a great wizard allow something like that to happen? And worst of allperhaps Umurhan wasn't as powerful as he claimed.
Safar had been granted a reprieve, but he knew now it was a short reprieveand getting shorter every moment.
"Hsst! came Gundara's warning. Danger ahead!"
Safar stopped. Below him was the final bend in the stairwell. It spilled out into the deepest and least glamorous level of the university. It was a place of boiling kitchen pots, foul garbage bins and huge clay pipes running overhead that carried water in and sewage out. Safar listened closely and after a moment made out the sound of a cleaning brush being rubbed against stone.
He resumed his journey, but at a slower pace. When he rounded the bend he saw a young acolyte kneeling on the steps. There was a bucket of water beside him and a brush in his hands. He was making lazy, half-hearted swipes at the steps with the brushdoing little more than dribbling water on the begrimed stone. But soon as he sensed Safar's presence the lazy swipes were replaced with vigorous scrubbing. The young man looked up, brow furrowed deeply as if the job required great concentration. But when he saw Safar he relaxed. He sat back on his heels, a wide, insolent grin splitting his face.
"Oh, it's only you, Timura. Gave me a start there for a minute. Thought you might be that whoreson, Hunker. Sneaking down here to catch me taking a little break."
Hunker was the priest in charge of punishment details. Any student in trouble learned to hate him on sight. He assigned the filthiest jobs and drove the workers like the spavined ox of the meanest miller.
Safar snorted. That's me, Hunker, in the flesh. And I'm down here to set all you sinful bastards a good example. That's why I'm going to spend my entire day crouched over a shithole and setting it on fire. Love the smell of that stuff burning. Love to show all you lazy swine how a real wizard works."