older students seated at the tightly packed first year benches. The majority of second and third-year students filled the long tables ahead of Kiram. Those tables weren't any more attractive than the stained one Kiram sat at but service from the kitchen reached the other second-year students sooner and with better portions.
The tables at the far eastern end of the huge dining hall were a different matter altogether. They were draped with cloths and the benches were beautifully carved. Fresh air and bright light poured in through the windows just behind them.
One table was reserved for scholars, the war master, and the holy father. Kiram only saw all the instructors gathered together at the table on Sacreday when Holy Father Habalan read prayers over the evening meal. Otherwise, the scholar's table was generally only half full. The remaining ornate tables belonged to students whom Nestor told him were the angels and devils of the academy -the brightest and most dangerous young men. Many were third and fourth-year students, who would one day be the lords of Cadeleon. It didn't surprise Kiram to spot Javier there, attended by his gang of loud companions.
Nestor's older brother, Elezar, always sat at Javier's right. Like Nestor, Elezar possessed a hawk-like nose and bristling brown hair, but he stood even taller than Javier and was built like one of the rippling bulls emblazoned on his gloves. Nestor, by comparison, looked more like a fresh egg.
Already, several upperclassmen had coined the term, 'stick and ball' to refer to Kiram and Nestor.
Kiram frowned at his bowl of lumpy brown stew. Nestor had already finished off his serving. It was apparently the staple of first-year students' lunches at the academy.
Kiram took a listless mouthful and swallowed. It tasted nothing like the dishes his mother's cook would have served on a hot afternoon like this one. Briefly he reminisced over the cool cucumber slices, lemon wedges, and mint leaves that had flavored his last meal with his family. At that moment he missed the flavors of lamb and figs almost as much as he missed his parents. He couldn't believe how he had taken the thick yoghurt and honey for granted.
Kiram glanced to Fedeles, who grinned at him.
Despite being quite simple, Fedeles made better company than most of the other students of the academy. He never tried to tease either Kiram or Nestor. In fact, he seemed only half aware of their presence. For the most part, Fedeles drifted in a smiling fog. Occasionally, he would look at one of Nestor's sketches and name the man or animal pictured. He was particularly fond of horses.
"Lunaluz," Fedeles whispered dreamily.
Nestor nodded absently and continued to ink in the horse's braided mane. Kiram glanced at the picture. As a rule he couldn't tell one horse from another, a fact that had deeply disturbed Master Ignacio the first day of riding class, but even he knew this horse. It was Javier's white stallion.
Until two weeks ago, Kiram wouldn't have imagined that there could be much difference between horses. Though admittedly the only ones he'd been familiar with were the nags that hauled Cadeleonian wagons and carriages outside the Haldiim district. The huge, glossy warhorses that the academy required their students to ride seemed like an entirely different breed of creatures. Between calculating gazes, sarcastic snorts, and immovable obstinacy they seemed to possess personalities that were as individual as their riders.
Like Javier, Lunaluz was known for his pride and prowess.
Kiram scowled at Nestor's drawing. It seemed that everything around him today was set on making him think about Javier.
"Did it have to be Lunaluz?" Kiram asked Nestor.
"Lunaluz," Fedeles echoed the name.
"He's a beautiful animal. So is this big fellow." Nestor handed Kiram the inked page that lay beneath his present drawing.
"Firaj." Fedeles sighed happily.
"Really?" Kiram asked. In his mind his new horse, Firaj, was much more
The tables at the far eastern end of the huge dining hall were a different matter altogether. They were draped with cloths and the benches were beautifully carved. Fresh air and bright light poured in through the windows just behind them.
One table was reserved for scholars, the war master, and the holy father. Kiram only saw all the instructors gathered together at the table on Sacreday when Holy Father Habalan read prayers over the evening meal. Otherwise, the scholar's table was generally only half full. The remaining ornate tables belonged to students whom Nestor told him were the angels and devils of the academy -the brightest and most dangerous young men. Many were third and fourth-year students, who would one day be the lords of Cadeleon. It didn't surprise Kiram to spot Javier there, attended by his gang of loud companions.
Nestor's older brother, Elezar, always sat at Javier's right. Like Nestor, Elezar possessed a hawk-like nose and bristling brown hair, but he stood even taller than Javier and was built like one of the rippling bulls emblazoned on his gloves. Nestor, by comparison, looked more like a fresh egg.
Already, several upperclassmen had coined the term, 'stick and ball' to refer to Kiram and Nestor.
Kiram frowned at his bowl of lumpy brown stew. Nestor had already finished off his serving. It was apparently the staple of first-year students' lunches at the academy.
Kiram took a listless mouthful and swallowed. It tasted nothing like the dishes his mother's cook would have served on a hot afternoon like this one. Briefly he reminisced over the cool cucumber slices, lemon wedges, and mint leaves that had flavored his last meal with his family. At that moment he missed the flavors of lamb and figs almost as much as he missed his parents. He couldn't believe how he had taken the thick yoghurt and honey for granted.
Kiram glanced to Fedeles, who grinned at him.
Despite being quite simple, Fedeles made better company than most of the other students of the academy. He never tried to tease either Kiram or Nestor. In fact, he seemed only half aware of their presence. For the most part, Fedeles drifted in a smiling fog. Occasionally, he would look at one of Nestor's sketches and name the man or animal pictured. He was particularly fond of horses.
"Lunaluz," Fedeles whispered dreamily.
Nestor nodded absently and continued to ink in the horse's braided mane. Kiram glanced at the picture. As a rule he couldn't tell one horse from another, a fact that had deeply disturbed Master Ignacio the first day of riding class, but even he knew this horse. It was Javier's white stallion.
Until two weeks ago, Kiram wouldn't have imagined that there could be much difference between horses. Though admittedly the only ones he'd been familiar with were the nags that hauled Cadeleonian wagons and carriages outside the Haldiim district. The huge, glossy warhorses that the academy required their students to ride seemed like an entirely different breed of creatures. Between calculating gazes, sarcastic snorts, and immovable obstinacy they seemed to possess personalities that were as individual as their riders.
Like Javier, Lunaluz was known for his pride and prowess.
Kiram scowled at Nestor's drawing. It seemed that everything around him today was set on making him think about Javier.
"Did it have to be Lunaluz?" Kiram asked Nestor.
"Lunaluz," Fedeles echoed the name.
"He's a beautiful animal. So is this big fellow." Nestor handed Kiram the inked page that lay beneath his present drawing.
"Firaj." Fedeles sighed happily.
"Really?" Kiram asked. In his mind his new horse, Firaj, was much more
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