Pozella and Quint perused the magic section of the library, and Quint came to a section he had ignored before. All the books had blue dots.
“Is there anything worthwhile in these?” He showed Pozella the spine of a book written in a different language. “I don’t know the willot language,” Quint said.
“There are. Why would you want to learn the language of your kind’s enemies?” Pozella said.
“I don’t care about the political aspects of willot writings, but I want to learn useful strings. Are these secret?”
Pozella smiled. “Not secret, but generally set aside for willot use.”
“So, I’m forbidden to read these? I ignored them when I looked through the magic books.”
“Let’s say the language is a barrier to entry into the mind and culture of willots,” Pozella said.
Quint was disappointed by Pozella’s verbal jousting. “If I learned to read these, would my knowledge grow, or can I get the same information in other books written in common language?”
“You might not appreciate all that you read. That is a warning, not a prohibition.”
“I think I already know how willots regard hubites. I’m willing to be exposed to willot ideas.”
Pozella smiled. “Then I will give you a dictionary and a phrasebook. There won’t be one in here.” He looked at the bookshelves. “You learn on your own and read on your own. I won’t help you with magic usually reserved for willots.”
“It is dangerous for you?” Quint asked.
Pozella nodded. “And dangerous for you, too. But you are in enough peril that I don’t think there will be a difference.”
“Should I kill myself now, or should I wait for a few days or a week?” Quint said sarcastically. “I don’t know what else to do. I get the sense that if I leave the wizard corps, I won’t last long on the outside.”
“A fair assumption. However, if you leave now, your mastery will not be complete, and any escape from the wizard corps will have to be more carefully planned,” Pozella said.
Quint looked at his instructor. What he had just suggested could be regarded as a crime. “I assume you don’t want me to mention this to anyone?”
“I don’t have to answer that question,” Pozella said.
No, he didn’t, Quint thought. “I’ll regard it as a challenge. You can help me with how to speak in willot?”
“In very protected spaces,” Pozella said.
Quint stared at the shelves of books with willot titles. “Maybe I can learn independently and not involve you in any way.”
“You won’t be able to get to the books that will help you learn the language without me. I’ll supply that and step away,” Pozella said, looking relieved.
“We can talk later. I suppose there is enough to keep me busy learning strings in the common tongue.”
Pozella nodded. “Let’s find some of those,” Pozella left Quint to stare at the titles.
That night, Quint thought long and hard about the bookshelf conversation as he thought of the willot language discussion. There had to be some very uncomfortable things mentioned in those books. With the hate he’d seen on display by many willots, he didn’t expect any praise for the hubite contribution to Racellian culture.
Over the next few weeks, Quint had learned a string from the list that Pozella and he had devised about every three or four days. The weaves were more complicated than most of the other strings that Quint had learned.
Quint collapsed on his desk after a long meeting with the team about convincing the Racellian army to improve its supply tactics. The army colonel who had joined his strategic group was not open to new ideas, and he clearly didn’t like Quint’s participation.
“A letter from Colonel Sarrefo,” a female sergeant said, putting the letter on Quint’s desk rather than giving it to him. It was just another slight out of a day full of them.
Quint opened the letter and sighed. No wonder the colonel didn’t call him into his office. Quint was assigned to support another incursion; this time, he was to travel to Gussellia and observe wizard corps troops in action. He was to leave tomorrow.
At lunch, Quint was visited by the colonel.
“I’m sorry about the orders. One of my orderlies removed your orders from my desk and gave them to you. She told me the assignment sounded too important to wait on my schedule.”
“You didn’t know they were delivered?”
Sarrefo nodded. “My calendar is full this afternoon and this is the only time I must discuss your orders. It came from the corps headquarters. You are one of two members of our division to go. The other is Lieutenant Baltacco.”
“Am I being singled out? I don’t count the lieutenant as a friend.”
Sarrefo nodded. “You are, and I wanted to warn you that you’ll have to be alert. I’ll be expecting you to return. If your assignment becomes too dangerous, then you have my permission to leave the assignment and make your way back to the division on your own.”
“I have friends here?” Quint asked.
“A few. Pozella, myself, and most of those who you work with. You are a promising young man, and I’d like to see you survive,” Sarrefo said.
Quint almost remarked on his being a hubite but recognized an outstretched hand when he saw it.
“Make sure you contact Pozella before you leave. I asked him to give you a few maps and suggest you take more money than you need. I’ll expect you back in a reasonable timeframe. The operation lasts three weeks, but in an emergency, it might take you longer to return.”
Quint’s eyes grew. “You expect something to happen?”
