The Winter Knights Read Online Free PDF Page A

guard and raised his sword.
    ‘Academics of Sanctaphrax,’ he bellowed. ‘You shall all be heard tomorrow when the announcement of who is to succeed the late Linius Pallitax as I Most High Academe is formally made …’
    ‘But we know who's succeeded him!’ pro- I tested the under-professor from the Institute of Ice and Snow, ‘and I must see them this instant, Captain Sigbord, or …’ ‘Or what, Palvius Quale?’ Sigbord bared his teeth in a grim smile and grasped the under-professor's white hood in one massive fist. In the other, he raised his curved sword.
    ‘You … you … wouldn't dare,’ trembled the under-professor.
    ‘Just you try me,’ snarled the captain as, behind him, the guards took a step forward and began slowly beating their shields with their swords.
    With mutters and curses, the crowd began to disperse. Pushing through them, Wind Jackal and Quint approached the entrance to the School of Light and Darkness where Sigbord was standing, still clutching the under-professor by the throat.
    ‘Haven't lost your touch, I see, Sigbord, you old hive-hut skulker!’ laughed Wind Jackal, sticking out his hand.
    The goblin let go of the under-professor, who quickly scurried off after his companions, and shook Wind Jackal's hand warmly.
    ‘Captain Wind Jackal, you old sky fox. It's good to see you. The professors … or should I say, Most High Academes are expecting you. Please, follow me.’
    He turned, raised his fist and hammered at the heavy leadwood door. It swung open at once, and Quint and his father followed the brawny flat-head inside. The three of them strode across the echoing hallway of black and white marble flags, past a vast curved staircase and on towards the tall, pointed archway at the far end.
    On many occasions, Quint had peered into the venerable school from the doorway, but never before had he actually set foot inside. This was the grandest and most prestigious Sanctaphrax institution of them all, and there were few academics who did not wear the sombre grey robes of the School of Light and Darkness who had ever managed to get past the Treasury Guard; and fewer still who had been allowed to proceed beyond this entrance hall.
    Quint gasped as he followed the others through the pointed archway and found himself in a cavernous atrium, so vast that a whole flotilla of sky ships could have comfortably moored there. Gallery after ascending gallery ringed the atrium, each one supported upon a forest of slender, fluted pillars. They rose up as far the eye could see, a broad, encircling staircase linking one with the other, and were crowned at the top by a vast dome, painted on its concave face with intricate scenes of light and darkness.
    This same theme – light and darkness – was repeated throughout the great school. There were chambers so brightly lit that they were blinding, with marble walls and crystal chandeliers; there were also dark rooms, lined with black leadwood and wreathed in sombre shadows. And everywhere, like grey wraiths, the academics of the School of Light and Darkness moved about on soundless feet, absorbed in their various tasks, calculations or hushed discussions.
    They went from chamber to chamber, muttering under their breath, or clustered together in twos, threes or small whispering groups. Some would hurry off in this direction, that direction, as if engaged in the most pressing work; while others sauntered – even stopped completely – their eyes staring and brows furrowed.
    Apart from the grey robes they wore, they could be identified by the distinctive carved staffs they clutched, each one with a lens or spyglass attachment set into its ornate hilt. Those, and the spectacles they wore. All but a few wore several pairs at the same time – on their noses, on the tops of their heads, with more of different strengths hanging from chains and thongs around their necks, so that, with the minimum of fuss, they could easily replace those they were wearing with ones