Knights Magi (Book 4) Read Online Free PDF Page A

of examinations in Magical Philosophy and History.  The old wizard was almost apologetic about his findings.
    “Lad, I cannot fault your master for his instruction.  The education an apprentice undertakes is by its nature a different experience than Imperial Academy training,” he explained, sympathetically.  “ Far more emphasis on practical magic, far less on theory – it’s to be expected.  But,” he added, with a kind twinkle in his eye, “it does help if the student is willing to remember the boring parts, not just the parts he’s interested in.  Your friend Rondal seems to have more of a knack for that,” he added.  That didn’t help matters.
    “Rondal is my junior apprentice, not my friend,” Tyndal snapped back automatically.  That was about all he could correct of the man’s assessment, however.  He couldn’t argue with the rest.  Rondal seemed to have a facility for remembering the most obscure and occult aspects of magic, and had a genuine understanding of its workings. 
    Tyndal guessed a lot.
    That put the two boys at odds frequently in matters arcane.  They had different Talents, in addition to different magical educations, so there were often gaps in their spellcasting abilities, gaps Master Min had tried to repair, but . . . he had been busy of late.  But Rondal’s superior, smug attitude about his abilities and knowledge had made an already tense situation almost unbearable.
    It had been hard, living with Rondal.  Since they had embarked together downriver from Sevendor a few days after Yule, they traveled in stony silence or conducted gruff arguments of mutual antipathy, each finding fault in everything the other did.  Rondal was a devious know-it-all, in Tyndal’s opinion, always ready to kiss an arse or cite a rule.  He never wanted to actually do anything.
    Tyndal, on the other hand, considered himself a man of action.  He loved magic, of course, but he loved it for its power and utility, not for its subtlety.  The difference in approach infected their styles.  It also fueled their rivalry.  Rondal had a nasty habit of adhering to the letter of the rules, even when it was clear a little improvisation was called for.  Tyndal could only imagine how far advanced he might be if he didn’t have Rondal’s cautious nature constantly slowing things down.
    As fervently as he felt that, Master Secul had not thought it legitimate to blame his fellow for his own failures.
    “Junior or not, academically speaking he’s about three years ahead of you,” Master Secul said, frankly.  “He’s nearly ready to take his journeyman exams.  You, on the other hand . . .”
    “I know,” Tyndal sighed, defeated.  “I’m still . . . learning. ”
    The old wizard laughed.  “Oh, we’re all still learning, lad.  Myself more than anyone.  But there is a definite need for some remedial work on your part.  And it’s not a lack of intelligence.  I think it’s more a lack of exposure.  Do you know how many books Rondal has read?” he asked, his voice challenging him a little.
    “Thousands?” Tyndal asked, sarcastically.
    “Closer to two hundred,” Master Secul smiled.  “His first master apparently had a decent library, and your current master has made a point of giving him more of the basic texts to read.  And he’s made a point of borrowing books or reading them when they are available.  From what I’ve seen you . . . haven’t.”
    “What?  He’s been reading books he didn’t have to read?” he asked in disbelief.  That sounded like signing up for extra bonus torture.  Just like a miserable little snot like Rondal to kiss ass at that level.
    “Oh, my, yes.  He’s made a point of it.  He’s read some rather obscure works in the libraries of Castabriel, for instance.  Weren’t you there, for King Rard’s coronation?” the wizard prompted.
    Tyndal suppressed a frustrated sigh.  Yes, he had been there when Duke Rard had become King Rard, but he had been