Jolm’s class was boring, but it gave Orn time to grade papers. The professor and the other students gave him a wide berth. Or at least they had for the first week.

“How dare you go to the headmaster,” Jolm growled at Orn, holding a crumpled paper in his hand. “You want to participate in the class that badly? So be it.”

The man had then stormed off leaving Orn completely confused, as to what just happened. The class then proceeded as it always had, with Orn being ignored in the corner. When he asked Kao, she only shrugged being as confused as he was. Two days later Orn understood what the large man meant.

...

“No, you barbarian!” Jolm yelled at him again, from the other side of a large banquet table. “That is a salad fork. I asked you to show me the fish fork.”

Jolm then asked the boy several empty seats down from Orn to show the fish fork. The boy lifted a fork, and showed it to the approving teacher.

“That is the same fork,” Orn objected noticing the boy had lifted the same far left fork that he had.

That earned Orn another lecture for failing to recognize the subtle difference, and being unable to tell that his table setting was wrong. His punishment was to collect the utensils as the other students finished the imaginary course.

One of the other students dropped his fork when Orn reached for it, to the laughter of others. Only Kao’s support kept him from storming out, or responding as the teacher clearly wanted.

“Keep them separate,” Jolm yelled at him, when he saw Orn had been collecting the utensils in one hand. “They are for different nobles, they should not touch like those of commoners. I expect you to clean them all for this oversight. Ensure they are stored in the proper tray before you leave.”

“That is perfect,” Kao giggled clapping her hands and distracting Orn from the retort forming on his lips.

Orn realized at once that his response would have gotten him in more trouble, with no way to end the escalation. He bit his tongue and picked up the dropped fork, and did his best to keep his expression flat as he heard the sound of laughter and more forks dropping.

“It is amazing what can be done to a fork, and it still seem clean,” Kao whispered in his ear.

Orn was once again thankful for her presence. She helped him keep his temper, and her ideas for revenge were always better than his.

…

A week later Orn walked out of his dance lessons to see Jolm storming over to him. Jolm had another paper in hand. Jolm accused him of going to the headmaster again, made vague threats before storming off. Jolm changed the class topic to something different again, and began with a new way to insult and demean Orn.

The process repeated itself again and again over the following weeks. Orn would be accused of going to the headmaster. Jolm would change the class activity, and Orn would get insulted over something else.

Kao continued to save him from his own temper, and get revenge, where possible, on the classmates that seemed to enjoy mocking him. They were actually easy targets, as his punishments often involved maintaining the supplies they used. Orn remembered how more than half the class ended up sick after they used the forks he “cleaned.” Shockingly the illness spared only the students too kind or shy to mock him.

That was a fun day, Orn thought to himself remembering when Jolm marched him into the headmaster’s office. Jolm quickly found himself on the defensive as the headmaster yelled at him for making a nobleman do dishes. The headmaster continued to tear into the teacher for effectively poisoning half the class by not having them cleaned by someone who had an actual cleaning skill. To be fair I did clean them well. It was what I did with them afterwards that caused the issue. I still cannot believe they put them in their mouths. They probably thought licking them would bother me since I had to clean them.

Unlike his peers, getting even with the professor was harder. The professor hated that Orn was in the academy and, worse yet, in his class. So his continued presence was technically a win against the man, but not the kind he wanted. Orn really wanted to get under the man’s skin.

When Jolm swapped to academic hobbies, Orn found his opportunity. How anyone though solving math problems was fun, was beyond Orn. But the shocked look on Jolm’s face when Orn correctly answered the question the teacher asked, was priceless. Orn was eventually sent back to the card table when he started not only answering the questions directed at him, but giving the answers to the noble students who did not answer fast enough. Jolm had fumed for the rest of the week as he continued the lessons despite Orn’s interruptions form the back of the room.

That quickly ended the so called “academic” noble pursuits, and began the outdoor activities. Jolm was clearly running out of things to throw at Orn as every knight had at least some skill in horse ridding. Every knight except Orn.

The first day was the worst, with Orn doing his best to stay in the saddle of the eager horse. The short amount of time Orn had spent riding the carriage horses had not prepared him for what was coming. They had been powerful, but calm and slow moving. The Academy’s horses were meant to run and were much more energetic.

Seeing his discomfort, Jolm decided this activity would continue for as long as possible. Over the following weeks Orn struggled to improve, but even with Kao’s coaching it was a slow process that left him sore.

I hate horses, Orn thought as he massaged the pain in his legs that never seemed to leave. He quickly did his best to wash off the smell of the horse, and headed for his bunk. Jolm did not even mock me today. He just encouraged me to spur the horse to go faster. I am barely managing at the slow trot I am going, anything more is not going to happen. He was probably hoping I would do it, fall off, and break my neck. Stupid horses...

{At a certain desk}

Seeing the note on his desk the headmaster groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was not sure which of the teachers he was more mad at, but this had to stop. He planned to keep his post until he was no longer physically able. But taking a small stipend and retiring to the countryside seemed more appealing every day. He broke the wax seal and began to read the flowing script:

Headmaster

I find myself appalled to have to keep writing you about this matter. I continue to hear that Jolm is systematically belittling Orn Vorn Blackthorn. I have repeatedly heard your promises that the issue will be dealt with only for superficial changes to occur.

Today I watched the young man stagger, STAGGER toward his barracks. Several of his classmates are also starting to show the effects of riding for hours every day. Jolm has clearly lost all control of his senses and needs to be separated from the students for their own protection, not just Mr. Blacktorn’s.

You have repeatedly failed to take my warnings seriously, and this is the result. My polite entities continue to fail to elicit any meaningful change, so I will be direct.

This will stop.

You will stop it now.

I have drafted a letter to his family explaining exactly what you have allowed to occur. If you do not put a stop to this now, I will have the letter delivered to his parents. I will also personally take another copy directly to his Majesty myself.

Respectfully Sincerely,

Dame Bode

He sighed and tossed the letter onto his desk. Jolm has been heavy handed, but is keeping to the letter of the Academy’s policy. He has become so used to working on the edge of the rules, that he knows exactly how far he can push without violating them, he thought shaking his head. I have tried to get him to stop, but the backlash I got for banning the class at the start of the year was absurd. He knows I cannot ban it or remove him, without angering the nobles who back him.

He had limited recourse against Jolm now, without going to the king. That would lead to the nobles backing Jolm going after him. I have more pull with the king, but I do not want to wear on his patience with such issues. If he does not agree I loose the protections I need for when I retire.

Dame Bode, he groaned as he recalled the way she signed her name. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Previously they had been signed “respectfully,” and “Madam Bode.” She usually preferred the informal title afforded to her as a teacher, but this letter she used her actual title. Her patience has ended. I have to do something directly or will have to explain to his majesty why my staff is complaining to him about what is happening here.

“You seem to be stuck between the millstones as it were,” the voice came from the other side of the table. He opened his eyes to see Tetric was reading the letter.

“Tetric, what are you doing in my office?” the words came out as a growl. “I have had quite enough of your games.”

“I actually came to check on you,” the thin man replied tossing the letter back on the desk. “I have seen what is happening and I want it stopped as well. My master does not like the path this is heading down, and sent me to help. This matter cannot be allowed to come before the king.”

“How do you propose to stop it? I either drag Jolm before the king, or we are both dragged there by Bode,” he glared at the man across from him. “That is unless you believe Jolm will suddenly see reason. I believe your words were apt ‘between the mill stones’ indeed.”

“They were,” the man said with a smile, “but that does not mean that you have to wait to be crushed by them. I suggest you...”