The Spellbinder (Tom & Laura Series) (10 page)

Chapter 12
   
No License

Laura was very concerned when she examined Tom. Someone had kicked him in the head and there was a large and nasty gash on his forehead, surrounded by a large swollen area. The head wound appeared to be the source of all the blood. She dabbed at it with her handkerchief and was astonished to see the wound decrease in size. Tom was beginning to get some color back in his cheeks.

His breathing had been labored when she first arrived, but that was also becoming more normal. Though it was against all the laws of magic it looked as though Tom was healing himself.

Tom returned to consciousness and felt dizzy. There was a red haze in front of his eyes and he couldn’t see a thing. His head throbbed in time to the beat of his heart and he could hear blood hissing in his ears. The world swam back into focus. He looked up to see Laura staring down at him.

“Are we there yet?” he asked, thinking for a second that he was back on the train.

Laura gave him a severe look. “We are at Hobsgate. We were just about to go to our class when I found you on the floor. What happened?”

“Someone called to me,” Tom said tentatively, struggling to remember what had happened as he spoke. “I went to see what they wanted and walked straight into someone’s fist. Do you think it was Snood?”

Laura shook her head. “No he’s not due here till next week, or so
Cam
says.” She saw Tom look puzzled and explained. “Camilla Burns, that’s her full name. Can you stand?”

Tom staggered to his feet and ran his hands over his torso. He bent over with his hands gripping tightly to his knees as a wave of dizziness ran through him. “I was sure I heard a rib crack, but it’s all right now. That bind of yours must be doing something extra special. I felt awful a few moments ago, but now I think I’m going to be fine.”

Cam
and two elderly men appeared at the end of the corridor. The men were puffing heavily as they approached them at a run.

Cam
looked surprised to see Tom on his feet. “I thought you were dead, for sure. This is the Doctor and the Headmaster.”

Tom concluded that the man with the black case must be the doctor and sure enough, this was the man who examined him. The doctor looked into his eyes and asking him how he felt, prodding his ribs and chest feeling for broken bones.

The Headmaster paced behind the doctor. He was clearly upset, mumbling under his breath something about ‘inauspicious starts’ and ‘damn Trelawney’.

“Well, Mister Carter. Someone seems to have given you a kicking, but their heart was not in it or we’d be taking you down to the infirmary. I’m Dr Grout, the school’s physician. I understand you’re a Healer?”

“Grade 2, I think. But I haven’t done the formal tests yet.”

The doctor looked suitably impressed. “I’m a Grade 4 myself, and have to rely more on my potions and training than talent. Lack of talent spared me the front lines though.”

“Just let me put something on that wound and you’ll be fine. Don’t do anything strenuous for a week and come back to me if you experience any nausea. I’ll give you tincture of opium to take for the pain.”

When the doctor finished, the Headmaster moved forward to question Tom, “Carter, eh. Well, what happened, young fellow? Can’t have accidents happening in the school. It was an accident wasn’t it?”

It was obvious what answer the Headmaster desired and Tom was happy to oblige. It was traditional boarding school rules: Whatever happens, never involve the teachers or any outsider.

“Yes sir, I was late for my next class and slipped while running along the corridor and banged my head on the wall. I’m sorry for causing so much fuss, sir. I’ll be more careful in future.”

Laura flushed with anger at Tom’s lies before she realized why he was doing it. He was right; there was no other course they could take. It made her blood boil to let someone get away with it though.

“I take it you are Miss Young,” the Headmaster said turning his attention to Laura, “The Class A. Not that such things mean anything here, young lady. You’ll be treated exactly as the others,” he said while implying the exact opposite, “No favoritism and no slackers. Hobsgate motto, you know, created it myself.”

For a few seconds it appeared the conversation had come to an end. Then the Headmaster started talking again.

“The train you were on last night. Did you see anybody?”

“I’m sorry, sir?” said Laura, “You mean, did we see the stationmaster at the station?”

“No girl, another man, a gentleman. He fell out of the train last night, breaking a leg and his shoulder, poor fellow. Terrible injury to his right hand. Poor man had to have two of his fingers amputated and was lucky to keep his index finger. Did you see him?”

“No” Laura said quickly. “Poor man, lost two fingers did you say? But then, I expect he will soon get used to not having them.”

“That’s a rather flippant comment, young lady.” The Headmaster sounded surprised. “Compassion was considered a noble quality in a woman, back in my youth.”

“Is he in hospital?” Tom enquired, wondering if they were going to be attacked by Bruno again in the near future. It was beginning to feel as if grouse season had started and Laura and he were the grouse.

“No, he was taken back to
London
. Nevertheless, the police are most unhappy. There was a gun involved and the police mistrust guns, even when they are in the hands of a gentleman.” The headmaster seemed to relax now he knew his students were not involved with the man. “Go on then, get back to your lessons. Very important, your education. You must not neglect it.”

They had already missed the lesson according to
Cam
. She kept up a non-stop monologue as she guided them through the school. She decided they should go straight on to next lesson and led them up several flights of spiral stairs.

The classroom was empty when they got there.

“Back or front?”
Cam
enquired. “I usually sit at the back.”

“Front,” Laura said decisively, settling the matter for all of them. They took up seats on the front row. “What is this lesson?”

“Ethics with Snow White,”
Cam
said and grinned. “I’ll bet that’s a surprise.”

“Snow White?” Tom asked. It seemed like a strange name to him.

“After the Prussian folk tale, we learn about things like that in History. You need to know about folklore if you want to fit in with the natives. His real name in Dr Snow, but you’ll see why we call him Snow White when he turns up.”

“Strategy
and
ethics lessons?” Laura said. “This is a very strange school.”

“I could not possibly disagree with you,”
Cam
replied airily.

Dr Snow arrived a few minutes later and if the presence of three students surprised him, he was determined not to let them know. His long hair and beard were pure white and Tom had to suppress a giggle as he saw how apt the nickname was.

Dr Snow ignored them as he shuffled papers on his desk. Finally, he looked up at them. “You must be the puppies the Headmaster has been in so much of a dither about. I gather one of you is a Spellbinder?”

“Me, sir.”

“Well, Miss Young. I do not take well to Spellbinder’s who disrupt my lessons, so do not try it or you will find you will have good reason to regret it.” His eyes moved briefly to the instruments of chastisement
 
hanging on the wall. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Laura said quickly. She felt it was rather unfair to treat her as though she was a criminal before she had done anything. Still, Spellbinders were notorious for playing tricks on others, so perhaps he had suffered from Spellbinders in the past.

Nobody spoke as they waited for the rest of the students to arrive. Laura, in particular, wanted to watch each of their faces as they saw Tom at his desk. With any luck his attacker would betray some emotion, as they would undoubtedly be expecting him to be badly hurt.

The students rushed into the room with Tompkins in the lead. He carried a girl’s hair ribbon triumphantly in the air before him. The girl he had stolen it from chased behind him, her long hair waving luxuriantly over her shoulders. Tompkins ran around Laura’s desk as the girl snatched at her ribbon. The two students blocked Laura’s view for the critical seconds as the rest of the students entered the room.

Laura contemplated what Tompkins might look like as a toad. She was angry enough to bind him for his stupidity. The girl snatched her ribbon back as Dr Snow coughed and Tompkins froze. She tied her hair as quickly as she could and went to sit down.

Tom considered ethics to be an extraordinary subject to find its way onto the curriculum in a school for spies. Surely spying was as far from ethical as you could possibly get?

To his surprise, much of the lesson was taken up describing the philosophers of ancient
Greece
. However, a set of off-the-cuff remarks that started when someone began talking at the back grabbed Tom’s attention.

“You boy, what did you just whisper?” Dr. Snow asked, instantly identifying the culprit.

“He said, ‘Get a royal warrant and do what you want’,”
Cam
piped up. Tom thought she must have excellent hearing as he hadn’t caught any words of the whisper.

Dr. Snow paced up and down and looked angry.

“You think spies are above the law? That we can be licensed by Royal Warrant to murder citizens of the Empire? That the Empress of a Quarter of-the-World will sanction you to kill anybody you disagree with?” Dr Snow paused, shaking with fury, and he took a deep breath.

“Citizens of the Empire are protected by the law. If there are any assassins in the Empire’s pay, you will not find them in MM3 and never will. You may defend yourself if threatened, and if you have cause to kill another to save lives, you will most probably be pardoned, but you do not have a license to kill. And pray God that nobody in the Empire is ever given that right. That way lies tyranny.”

That was the kind of Empire Tom wanted to serve. It felt good to hear a teacher in a school for spies say it out loud. He had begun to suspect the worse since he became involved with MM3.

There was no break at noon, the lessons carried on relentlessly, teaching normal subjects along with those related to spying. The last two hours of the working day were physical exercises, which Tom was excused, but Laura took part in and found exhausting.

After getting hot and sweaty, she was expected to use the communal showers and have ice-cold water poured over her. Everyone showered naked, split up only by sex, which Laura found slightly disturbing. She also discovered that ice cold water made her nipples stand up, but that it was not at all a pleasurable experience.

Late in the day, the final bell sounded and everybody headed for the dining room. Dining was more civilized than breakfast, the benches had tablecloths and the staff ate with the students, sitting at a table at the front of the room.

Tom and Laura sat with Tompkins as
Cam
had disappeared after showering. The Headmaster stood up and said grace. No sooner had he finished than
Cam
entered the room with blood dripping from a horrible wound at her throat before sliding dramatically to the floor. Tom and Laura looked to Tomkins in horror, but his grinning face reassured them. A girl screamed, much to everybody’s amusement.

Cam
got up from the floor and took a long low bow to appreciative laughter and the odd jeer. Even some of the teachers applauded her performance. Once again, her makeup had proved a resounding success. She jostled Tom and Laura to make a space between them where she could sit down.

“I think that may have been my finest moment,” she told them breathlessly.

“How did you get the blood to look so blood-like?” Laura asked. She was only slightly put off from her question by the gaping wound around her friend’s neck.

“Trade secret, I’m afraid,”
Cam
said. She laughed, “Oh, but we are in the same trade aren’t we. I shall tell you when there are no boys around.”

Laura suddenly had a horrible thought and was almost sick as a possibility occurred to her. ‘Surely not even
Cam
would have used… no, it was unthinkable’. At the very least, Laura was not going to think it, and she decided to avoid being in
Cam
’s company when there were no boys around. Just in case her suspicions were right.