Doorkeeper led Grimm through an iron gate, and the colourful opulence of the Great Hall was replaced by a dull green and grey; a musty smell filled the air.
"This is the Charity Wing of the Scholasticate, Grimm," intoned the major-domo. "You may stay here for a long time, but the years will soon fly, believe you me! Sometimes, I wish I was back here as a Student. It would free me from all my obligations; they seem so hard at times. So hard…"
He sighed mournfully in self-pity and assumed his official manner once more. "The normal term doesn't begin for another two weeks, and so there will be very few Students here for a while, just other charity boys. The paying Students are allowed home at the end of term, although you, as a charity boy, will not be allowed leave unless granted special permission by your Magemaster or by Lord Thorn.
"I think there are a few other charity Students within the House at this time, so there should be a few other boys of your own age for you to make friends with. Here, this is your cell."
They had stopped in an ill-lit corridor outside a door bearing the number 17. "This will be your number as long as you are a Student here. Your clothes will bear this number, and the Magemasters who teach you may address you as number 17. Some of the Magemasters don't have such a good memory for names as I do."
Doorkeeper opened the door to show a clean but dismal room. The walls were painted in cabbage-green with off-white tiles up to knee height. The small room's accoutrements were few: a brass bed with a thin mattress and a neatly-folded but threadbare bedroll; an off-white, crazed ceramic washbowl; a rickety chair set beside a small, round, wooden table; and a warped bookshelf bearing a single volume.
The major-domo moved to the shelf and handed its sole occupant to Grimm: a weighty tome bearing the title Rules and Regulations of the Scholasticate in black on a battered brown leather cover. "Read this book carefully, Grimm. It's very important, yes, very important, and you may be tested on it.
"It contains all the rules and regulations for charity Students, for the Guild in general, and for this House in particular. The Magemasters and seniors may ask you questions about it at any time, and you'd better be able to answer them without a moment's thought, or you may be punished. We don't want that, now, do we?"
Grimm shook his head, mute in his encroaching misery.
"There's a similar book for the paying Students," continued Doorkeeper, "but the rules aren't as strict. The House needs money, and most of it comes from the parents of the rich boys. Make sure that you know all the Rules by heart, and be sure to obey them all."
Grimm nodded wordlessly, his heart too full to speak. "I will be back to take you to luncheon in a few hours," said Doorkeeper. "Don't try to get back into the Hall; you won't be able to. But I think the Scholasticate will be a large enough world for you, even over the long time to come.
"Be strong, Grimm; the loneliness will pass soon enough once your studies have begun, and you will find your days full to bursting with new knowledge, new friends and new experiences. Be strong for me."
Doorkeeper left, closing the door of the cell with a thump that sounded to Grimm like a knell announcing the death of his old, familiar, life in Granfer's smithy.
Cell! The word echoed and rebounded through the boy's head; it sounded as if he were a criminal to be locked up.
Although the door was unlocked, the green walls of the cell seemed to close in on Grimm. He felt a swift, cold shiver of fear run through him. His lungs seemed to have turned to stone, and he felt unable to breathe properly.
With a mighty effort, he forced himself to draw a few, deep breaths, and he tried to take stock of the situation, but he felt hot tears begin to well from his eyes, unbidden. A jagging sob racked him, as a heavy wave of desperate homesickness washed over him.
He lay face down on the bed and wept with bitter anguish for a few minutes until it seemed he would break in two. With one last shuddering sob, he forced himself to sit up. For a few moments, he gasped like a beached whale until his breathing normalised. With stolid determination, he planted himself in the chair and picked up the book that Doorkeeper had said was so important.
The pages were yellowed and obviously well-thumbed. How many boys had read this before him? The number 17, which was stamped on the flyleaf, told him that the book belonged in this very cell, and Grimm felt a kind of communion with the previous incumbents of the cell. He hoped they had all become mages rather than scullery servants.
The first part of the book was interesting enough, detailing the history of the Guild and the House. Apparently, Arnor House was actually a hundred and fifty years older than the Guild itself. The Guild had been inaugurated four hundred years before by common consent between several feuding groups of magic-users, the Arnor Institute for the Arcane Arts among them.
The founding of High Lodge gave the squabbling organisations guidance and a common purpose. Eventually, more and more Houses joined the new Guild of Magic-users, Sorcerers and Thaumaturges until it became the premier organisation for magic throughout the land.
Each House paid a certain amount to High Lodge every year, based on its ability to pay. High Lodge had the right to request temporary or permanent secondment of magic-users or scholars to the governing Lodge for the fulfilment of certain spells, or to ensure that there was always a full complement of mages at High Lodge. In return, the House was assured non-aggression from all other Guild Houses, financial aid in times of crisis and exclusive authority for all matters magical in its locality.
The highest honour for any Guild Mage was to be elected to the post of Lord Dominie of the Guild, who could only be selected from among the ranks of High Lodge every year.
A few brief paragraphs gave sketchy details of former Guild notables, and then the main part of the book began.
Student!
You have been granted the honour of induction into the Guild of Magic-users, Sorcerers and Thaumaturges. This is an august and venerable establishment, and you are privileged to have become a part of it.
As a Student at Arnor Guild House, you have the responsibility to heed and obey the rules of the Guild and of the House. Read these well. The House Magemasters will accept no ignorance of the regulations as an excuse for failing to observe them, and punishments will be assessed against each transgression, up to and excluding dismissal from the Scholasticate and the Guild.
Section 1-Comportment and Bearing
Subsection 1-Conduct
Rule 1.1.1: A Student shall, at all times, maintain a deferent and respectful manner towards all Mages, Neophytes, Adepts and Scholars.
Grimm thought that seemed easy enough. He had been brought up to be respectful to his elders. He could only guess at what the word 'deferent' might mean, but he guessed it meant 'polite'.
Rule 1.1.2: A Student shall obey diligently all orders and instructions given him by all Mages, Neophytes, Acolytes, Adepts and Scholars, excepting where such orders conflict with prior or subsequent countermanding orders given by the Prelate or the Student's class Magemaster, or except where such orders conflict with any other Guild Rule, or a Guild-approved House Rule. It shall at all times be considered that any orders given by the Prelate or Magemaster may be considered as licit, without reference to other rules and strictures.
Grimm could barely understand the ramifications of this Rule. He read through it carefully three times and it made little more sense to him. Deciding to return to this complicated rule later, he read on.
Rule 1.1.3: Except where explicitly permitted by the Student's Magemaster, or other licit authority, a Student shall at all times maintain a high standard of decorum and comportment…
The list went on and on in the same dry, impenetrable, prolix style. Grimm's eyes grew larger as the pages began to detail former freedoms now denied him. He would not be allowed to leave the Scholasticate for as long as his training lasted, a period of many years, or until he was dismissed to serve in the bowels of the House.
Although three meals were provided each day, woe betide the Student who was not in the Refectory by the time the tolling of the bell ended, for he would lose this meal and the next, in penance for the waste of food.
The requirements for cleanliness and neatness were rigorous. Rules were detailed for the laying out of dirty clothes for washing and for taking a bath. Each of these rituals was to be performed once a week at a specified time, and missing the narrow period allowed for these would result in the Student going dirty for the next week, and a 'Schedule D, paragraph 1 punishment' for poor hygiene if the Student could not otherwise keep himself clean. Grimm had no idea what a 'Schedule D punishment' was, but he guessed it would be severe.
The only alternative Grimm could see was to wash himself and his clothes with plain cold water in the small washbasin, an unappealing prospect, although the hygiene facilities, in truth, were little worse than those in his home smithy.
Hair was to be no longer than would fall to the bottom of the shoulder-blades, and it was to be kept clean and tied back.
Rules for the wearing of beards and whiskers were also specified, which gave Grimm a new reminder of how long he might need to stay in the Scholasticate.
Poor Students were expected to keep their robes in good condition and a needle and thread was provided for the repair of minor damage, but he who entered the Refectory or a schoolroom with torn or shoddily repaired robes would again be punished. Fortunately, Grimm had been used to darning and sewing for almost as long as he could walk. The smithy produced enough wealth for food and shelter but little else, and Gramma Drima's arthritic fingers rarely had been equal to the task.
Grimm read on for an hour, rule after rule and restriction after restriction. It seemed that the House consisted of nothing but constraints and strictures, and he began to despair of ever keeping track of the rules, let alone being able to quote them on demand. Even the sole movable objects in his cell, the chair, the table and the bed, had to be kept in precise, fixed locations and orientations.
He did not even understand many of the rules; whatever 'unnatural practices' were, he had no idea, and Grimm wondered if they involved play-acting. He was extremely well read for a boy of his age, but words like 'narcotics', 'impropriety' and 'insubordination' were beyond him. How could he obey the rules if he didn't know what they meant? He was in trouble before he had even begun as a Student.
An unbearable weight of despair began once more to descend onto the boy's narrow shoulders, and another sob escaped his lips. Why had Granfer sent him to this place, so heavy with pomp, ceremony and regulations, where most of the boys came from families rich beyond Grimm's wildest dreams?
At least, if he had been sent to the local school, he could have mixed with other boys like himself, boys from working families like his own. He knew how his grandfather loved him, but the idea that the kindly, grizzled old smith could willingly send his grandson to be immured in such a stark, lonely prison for many years was beyond Grimm, and tears of self-pity began to well unbidden from his eyes.
Lost in misery, with endless unanswerable questions flying endlessly around his mind like balls in a frenetic billiards game, Grimm started at the sound of a knock at the cell door. He did not expect Doorkeeper back for some time yet. He composed himself, managing to utter a faint and tremulous "Come in".
The door opened with a weary-sounding creak, to reveal a tall man of maybe twenty-five years. Long, dark hair tumbled down over the visitor's shoulders, and his calm face was framed with a neatly-trimmed, brown beard.
He wore simple, brown, homespun robes like Grimm's, but he bore an ornate, blue metal ring on his marriage finger and a six-foot, brass-shod staff, which the boy now recognised as the outward marks of a mage. Grimm expected a thundering bass voice to issue from the man's lips, but he was pleasantly surprised by the gentle tones he heard.
"Doorkeeper told me there was a new charity boy; we're few and far between in this august establishment, so I thought I would take the opportunity to introduce myself: I am Questor Dalquist Rufior."