A Call to Arms: Book One of the Chronicles of Arden by Shiriluna Nott, SaJa H Read Free Book Online

boy in his fine clothing and jewels that probably cost more than Gib’s entire farm.
    The boy named Joel was still staring at him, expecting a response no doubt. Gib parted his lips, meaning to say something— anything —but no words came forth. It was as if some invisible force had fluttered by and stolen his voice away. Joel’s smile was troubled as he turned to Marc for help and Gib let out a strangled noise, mortified. He was making himself appear an idiot!
    Marc stepped in to put an end to the awkward lull. “Sorry, Joel. I must have interrogated him in my office for so long earlier that his voice has gone hoarse.” The dean gave Gib a light tap on the back. “It’s my fault, really. You know how much I enjoy talking people to death.”
    Joel’s smile was wistful. “All too well, Marc Arrio. Your wife must have the heart of a saint to deal with such a scamp for a husband.”
    Gib was taken aback as he listened to their banter. Should a student be speaking so casually to a figure as important as the Dean of Academy? His head spun when Marc didn’t reprimand or scold Joel for talking in such a way. In fact, the dean was chuckling.
    “Your wit almost exceeds that of your father,” Marc replied, an amused grin playing on his lips. “And for the record, my wife happens to be quite the intellectualist herself. She can appreciate a man who likes to talk.”
    The older boy let out a snort and Gib felt as though he were witnessing a conversation between two lifelong friends rather than a teacher and his pupil. Joel turned his piercing eyes on Gib and gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for my behavior, Gibben. I don’t normally speak to Marc so informally while in the presence of other students as it tends to give them the impression that the dean isn’t worthy of respect. That, of course, is not the case. I’m allowed to make jokes with him only because Marc is a very close friend of my family.” Gib nodded, unsure of what else to do. Joel took a step back, white robes cascading around his feet. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten my manners. Please, come in.”
    Gib wasn’t sure whom the young noble was inviting inside—Marc, himself, or both of them together.
    Fortunately, the dean answered before Gib was forced to ask for clarification. “I’m afraid I have to take my leave now. I regrettably have a very temperamental Instructions Master awaiting my return.” His dark eyes measured Gib. “You’ll be all right. Joel will help you unpack your things and show you the grounds. Isn’t that right, Joel?”
    The older boy gave a stiff nod. “Of course. But Marc, before you leave, may I request a word with you outside the room?”
    The dean’s voice was hesitant. “Yes, all right. But just for a moment. I’m really running behind schedule.”
    Gib clenched his jaw as any hope that his highborn roommate might accept him came crashing down. Here it was. Seeing how lowly Gib was Joel was now going to beg Marc to reassign the vagrant boy somewhere else. Gib’s face burned with shame and he longed to be back on the farm, away from these city people who passed such harsh judgment. Where was he to go if no student would take him as a roommate?
    Marc and Joel were speaking in the hallway. Gib didn’t want to listen, but the door had been left open a crack and their hushed voices carried back into the room.
    “Are you sure this is a wise decision?” Joel asked. “I thought I wouldn’t be sharing a room with anyone again, given the circumstances, and especially after—what happened before. My family has already been put through so much for it.”
    Marc issued an imploring snort. “That wasn’t your fault. You know that. I know that. Anyone who matters knows that.” The dean’s voice had a sharp bite to it.
    “People will talk.”
    After a pause of terrible silence came Marc’s response. His voice had lost all of its rigidity. “I’m sorry for what you’ve endured, Joel. It’s not fair, I