Reward or Punishment

Glunday, the third day in a row with heavy sparring and training. Martel disliked the day for that reason, though on the other hand, once sixth bell ended, he could look forward to the rest of the fiveday being a breeze in comparison. Arriving at the Circle of Fire, Martel took position some distance away from the other fire acolytes and waited for their teacher to arrive.

When she did, she seemed to be in a foul mood based on her expression, though it was hard to tell; she seemed to wear a permanent scowl regardless of the situation. "Yesterday, Master Reynard arranged the exercise for my benefit."

That explained why she had been present to observe them.

"Your performance was pitiful," she spat.

Definitely in a foul mood.

"Both of you folded like wet rags," she exclaimed at William and Edward. "You barely accomplished anything before you lay on the ground like the worms you are."

Keeping quiet, the two acolytes stared at the floor with downcast eyes.

"As for you," she continued, raising her head towards Martel, "I saw you hesitate!"

"I stopped two of them with one spell," Martel protested. By his estimate, he had done better than any of the acolytes present.

"Spare me," Moira sneered. "You get no rewards for doing one thing right! In battle, you do everything right every time, and your reward is survival. One mistake, one false move, one moment's hesitation because a pretty face distracts you, and your punishment is death."

Martel heard Harriet giggle, which she managed to make into a condescending sound.

Unfortunately, this also drew Moira's attention. She turned around to stare at the female acolyte. "Don't think you have anything to be proud of! I saw the way you crumbled at the end."

"They were two against one," Harriet objected.

Martel admitted a certain satisfaction at seeing her raked over the coals as well.

"Well, it's a good thing that wars are always just and fair," their teacher remarked with scorn. She let her eyes sweep over all of them. "Pathetic lot. All of you, practise your basic spells. Next time, I expect to see every single attack land without hesitation."

The acolytes grumbled, but did so quietly, and set to work.

***

At the meals, Martel collected as much food as he felt he could get away with and stashed it in his room. Most of it was bread, though he had also some strips of meat that he figured would be good for Julia. Along with an apple, he hoped that would sustain her for a few days. He could continue to scrounge food from the Lyceum, of course, but that would necessitate him visiting her constantly to deliver it, and the conversation yesterday had made him realise the danger if he led the inquisitors to her.

For that reason, he waited until it was dark before he left the castle; even if he had not agreed any specific hour with Julia, it seemed wise to only go outside after sunset, allowing him to lose any pursuers. Moving along dark alleys rather than the illuminated main streets for the same reason, Martel felt assured that nobody could follow him. Even so, he kept glancing over his shoulder the whole way, especially as he reached the insula.

Outside Julia's room, he gave a quiet knock. "It's me, Martel."

He heard the bolt move before the door opened. She took a step back to let him slip inside.

"I brought you this." For a moment, he looked around for a table to place the food upon until he remembered the lack of furnishings. Instead, he simply placed it in her arms.

She sat down on her mattress and began to eat.

Watching her slow, deliberate movements as she picked up pieces of the food to put in her mouth, Martel leaned against the wall and slowly sank down to sit on the floor. He was reminded of many years ago when he had found a wounded bird in the forest by his town and tried to care for it, nurturing it back to health. His father had eventually discovered it, and the bird had ended up as stew. Martel hoped Julia would fare better.

But in order to protect her, he needed to know more. "Julia, just so I can better look out for you, can you tell me what happened to you? Your family?"

She turned her big eyes towards him, still carefully placing bits of food into her mouth. "Do you really need to know?"

"It will help me protect you."

She took a deep breath. "My mama was an alchemist. My papa did apothecary work. The inquisitors came one day, destroyed everything. Smashed all my mama's bottles. Threw everything on a pile and burned it. Papa lowered me out the window on the upper floor. I waited for him to jump, but they took him. He told me to run, so I did." She finally exhaled, having spoken with barely a pause in between her sentences.

Martel felt his heart tear, and he wished that he could wrap the girl up in a tight hug, but he was unsure if she would let him. "How long ago was this?"

"I don't know. I found the sewers and stayed there mostly. You don't count the days underground."

Martel had not heard of anything like this happening recently; although the inquisitors did punish an alchemist a while back, he had been a man. It might have escaped Martel's notice, of course, but he considered it more likely that this had happened before he even came to Morcaster. He wondered if he might discern the identity of Julia's parents, assuming any such investigation would not bring the attention of the inquisitors upon him.

In any case, he could not imagine that they actively searched for Julia herself. She was still a child, she had shown no sign of magic from what Martel could tell, and there was no reason to suspect her of any wrongdoing. Hopefully this meant she was safe; the difficult part would be to convince her of that as well. But Martel had time. He had nearly a year left in Morcaster, and for now, she had food and a dry place to sleep.

"I'll be back on Solday with some coin, so you can buy other things you might need." Martel stood up.

Julia carefully placed her food on the mattress and got up as well before walking over to unbolt the door. "Thank you." She gave a cautious smile, the first he had ever seen from her, and he interpreted it as expressing her gratitude for everything he had done, not just this latest promise.

It made him feel warm despite the cold weather. "You're welcome."