The Magicians and Mrs. Quent Read Online Free PDF Page B

back endless hordes of Murghs who wished to overrun our fair island, thus preserving the sovereignty of our nation and the identity of the Altanian people forevermore. I agree,
that’s
hardly worth commemorating.”
    Earnsley glowered but said nothing more on the topic, and after that the conversation turned to a proposal put forth by Lord Farrolbrook, which, if passed by both halls of Assembly, would require the king to seek approval before commissioning new ships for the royal navy. At present, the king could order new ships at his whim. As the government must pay its debts, Assembly was forced to levy new taxes to pay for the ships whether it approved of their being built or not. This, it was agreed, offered another example of the monarchy’s unwarranted powers and habitual irresponsibility.
    “Your father sits in the Hall of Magnates, Mr. Rafferdy, does he not?” Mr. Harclint asked.
    Rafferdy set down his empty brandy glass. “Yes, Lord Rafferdy holds a seat in the Upper Hall, though circumstances have not allowed him to attend Assembly of late.”
    “Tell us, then, what is Lord Rafferdy’s opinion on the New Act for Rationality in the Commission of Naval Vessels?”
    “I have no idea. You’ll have to ask him when you see him next.”
    This resulted in a moment of blinking on the part of the questioner. “Well, what about you, Mr. Rafferdy? What is
your
opinion?”
    “How can that be of any relevance? I neither sit in the Hall of Magnates nor have a vote on such proposals.”
    “Yes, but we would know what you
think
about it.”
    “Even when it can have no significance?”
    “Of course it has significance,” interjected Sir Earnsley. “A man’s opinions are everything. They tell you what he stands for, why he acts as he does, and who he is.”
    “I don’t have opinions,” Rafferdy said pleasantly.
    Mr. Harclint let out a high-pitched laugh. “Now you’re being willfully perverse, Mr. Rafferdy.
Everybody
has opinions.”
    “I don’t. Or if I find I’m developing one, I remove it from my mind as quickly as possible, as one might have a surgeon draw a bad tooth.”
    “What sort of nonsense is that?” Sir Earnsley said with a bristling of brows. “It sounds like the sort of prattle a philosopher would spout. You’re not at university, are you, Mr. Rafferdy?”
    “Not anymore. It made my clothes smell of books.”
    “Good. I don’t approve of this current custom of young gentlemen attending university and getting their heads filled with outlandish notions. The universities are nothing but breeding grounds for agitators and anarchists—that is to say, men who lack proper opinions. In my day, once a man knew how to read and cipher, the only things he needed to learn were what his own common sense taught him.”
    Which meant he learned nothing at all,
Rafferdy was going to add cheerfully. Before he could, another spoke instead.
    “And how should a young gentleman learn about magick, Sir Earnsley, if he does not attend university?”
    At first Rafferdy could not locate the speaker. Only when the other moved did he become aware of a gentleman whose name he did not know sitting in the corner of the study. The lamplight ventured into that area of the room only reluctantly, and Rafferdy could discern little more than the sharp lines of a sallow face and the glint of dark eyes.
    “How should they learn about magick?” the old baronet answered, scowling. “I’d rather they teach young men philosophy or foster them in the courts of Murgh princes for their education, than instruct them in such foolishness.”
    “But it isn’t foolishness, sir,” Mr. Harclint protested, making what seemed a great effort to raise his voice in passion. “Surely Lord Farrolbrook is no fool. Everyone expects him to sit on the front benches in the Hall of Magnates one day soon, and it’s said he’s a magician of superior ability.”
    “More likely he is a superior charlatan,” Earnsley replied. “You’ll more