The Testing Read Online Free Page B

sword, bringing the bloodied blade up.
    The surviving Jurgurs had seen enough. They flung down their clubs and sprinted, vanishing into the maze of dockside alleys behind the Inn’s warehouses. Running boots caught Corthain's attention, and he turned to see three men in the black armor of the Swords of Araspan running towards him.
    “What’s this?” said the lead Sword. “We heard the sound of fighting. I’ll not have scum like you brawling on my streets.” He took in Corthain’s sword and fine clothes, and his attitude changed. “Er…are you wounded, my lord?” 
    “Hardly,” said Corthain, cleaning his sword on a dead Jurgur’s ragged shirt. Perhaps the Swords had mistaken his blade for a cortana. “Four men with clubs against an experienced swordsman is hardly a fair fight.”
    “Indeed not,” said the Sword. He looked at the bodies and scowled. “More of these Jurgur scoundrels. Ever since the battle, they’ve infested the city, robbing honest folk. The Lord Governor ought to put the lot of them in orange and sell them on the block.”
    Corthain sighed. “See to the bodies. I suspect you don’t want ghouls rising to terrorize the streets.”
    “Of course,” said the Sword. “I’ll have them sent to the crematorium at once.”
    Corthain nodded, slid his sword into its scabbard, and walked back to the Inn. Araspan had not changed, he saw. Still choked with slaves and fear and violence. 
    He wished he had not come home.
    Home...
    Home wasn’t Araspan any more, was it?   Home was Moiria, his domnium, with its hills and vineyards and streams, its tough and independent people, so different from the slaves of Araspan. 
    Once his business was finished, Corthain could leave Araspan and go home.
    The thought cheered him as he walked back to the Inn. 

Chapter 3 - The Conclave

    The astraljump ended, and it took Rachaelis a moment to regain her balance. Astraljumps always left her dizzy and disoriented, and the terror clawing at her stomach hardly helped. After a moment her head stopped spinning, and she looked around. 
    She stood next to Thalia in a large stone hall, gloomy shadows pooling in the vaulted roof. The only light came from spelllamps on iron stands. Clammy, cold air washed over Rachaelis, and she realized that they were in the vaults beneath the Ring. 
    Men and women in red robes and black stoles waited on the far end of the hall. 
    The Magisters of the Conclave. 
    “Come with me,” said Thalia in High Imperial, and then she switched to Callian. “And…good luck, Rachaelis. You can do this. I know you can do this.”
    Rachaelis took a deep breath and followed Thalia to the Magisters.
    One Magister stepped towards them, a tall man with close-cropped gray hair, bright blue eyes, and an aquiline face. Unlike the other Magisters, he carried a black staff of office in his left hand. He was Talvin, First Magister of the Conclave, leader of the Adepts and ruler of Araspan. 
    “Who comes before the Magisters of the Conclave of Adepts?” said Talvin in High Imperial, his stentorian voice booming off the walls.
    Thalia bowed and answered in the same tongue. “I am Thalia of House Kalarien, an Adept by the Conclave by right of the Testing, daughter of Arthain of House Kalarien, a Magister of the Conclave.”
    Thalia’s father stood to Talvin's right. Arthain Kalarien had the same bright green eyes as Thalia, but his grim face held not a hint of cheer or mercy. The Magisters tended towards plumpness as they aged, since they used astraljump spells to travel from place to place, but Arthain Kalarien, like Talvin himself, remained fit and lean. 
    “And who do you bring before us?” said Talvin.
    “Rachaelis, of House Morulan, daughter of Aramane of House Morulan, a Magister of the Conclave,” said Thalia. “Before the Magisters of the Conclave, I declare that I have found her of worthy mind and skill, and do sponsor her for entry into the Conclave.” 
    “An Adept has sponsored for the