Reign of Shadows - Deborah Chester [21]
Crushed in among other bodies, with someone’s elbow in his ribs and another student almost standing on his heels, Agel sought the calming refuge of severance within himself. But his heart was beating too fast and his breath came short.
For the first time in months, he could not find his concentration, now when he needed it most of all.
The bell rang like a dirge. He wanted to weep with anger and humiliation. How could Caelan have done such a risky, foolhardy thing? How could he have let his stupid temper get the better of his good sense? Agel could not forgive him for it. He felt betrayed by his cousin, betrayed and bereft. Agel had thought they would spend their lifetime together, working for a common good, sharing the same occupation and interests, but now there would be no more friendship, no more companionship.
Caelan had thrown his opportunities away. Whispered rumors said he had refused the Elder’s generous offer of forgiveness.
The fool. Agel’s hands clenched into fists inside his wide sleeves. What would become of Caelan now? No one had been disrobed at Rieschelhold for at least two decades. And now, for it to be the son of Beva E’non was incredible, unbelievable.
Agel’s throat stung with embarrassment.
He saved you from a demerit, a small voice reminded him, but Agel brushed it angrily away. So he still had his perfect record thanks to Caelan. Did that excuse Caelan’s own behavior?
A stir made everyone crane to look. Agel saw his cousin coming, flanked by an escort of six hooded proctors walking three on each side. The proctors in front and the proctors at the rear held their staffs crossed, thus creating a cage around Caelan.
The boy walked tall, with his shoulders straight and his chin high. He was a strapping lad, taller than nearly anyone else, still growing out of his clothes. His hair blew back from his forehead like ripe wheat tossed by the wind. There was no shame in his face, no regret. His blue eyes were eagle-keen, almost happy.
Agel felt his eyes sting, and he could have kicked Caelan then and there.
Didn’t the idiot understand what disrobing meant? Once expelled by the masters, there was no coming back.
Agel watched his cousin stride through the parted center of the assembly, the bell tolling over him as though he had died in the ditch. Maybe it would have been better if he had. He had apparently learned nothing from his near fatal adventure.
Agel’s vision blurred, and he struggled to hold back tears. It was not manly to weep, nor was it in accordance with severance. Besides, Agel knew the proctors were watching him. They would always watch him now, seeking any evidence of the taint that Caelan had shown, nay, flung in their faces. The masters would drive Agel harder, for he was now the sole heir to Beva E’non’s great legacy.
Secret pride touched Agel, and unconsciously he straightened his own slim shoulders. As upset as he was over Caelan’s failure, Agel could not help but see this as his chance to shine. The masters’ attention would now center on him. And Agel wanted that challenge. He wanted to excel, to show everyone how good he could be.
Caelan was past Agel now, his gaze straight ahead, looking neither left nor right across the faces that stared at him. Agel swallowed hard. He did not think he would ever see Caelan again. Certainly it could never again be as it was, or with welcome and a glad heart.
Their fates, always entwined, were now separating into two different roads of life. Agel saw his as a path to accomplishment and success. His talent would support his ambitions. One day his fame would surpass that of Uncle Beva’s.
As for Caelan, his path had already grown stony and broken, heading for a life of disappointment and hard times.
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