Lord Dorias said, his head in his hands. “It can’t be!” “I’m sorry, Magister,” Valin said, eyes downcast. “I had not intended my words—” “Anrel,” Dorias interrupted, ignoring Valin, “didn’t I ask you to keep Valin away from Lord Allutar?” Anrel saw the look of stunned dismay that flickered across Valin’s face, and considered lying—Valin might believe old Dorias was even more confused than usual—but decided there was no point in deception. “I said I would keep him occupied elsewhere this evening, yes, but evening had not come, and I had not anticipated Lord Allutar’s presence in the town square.” “Do you know how long it has been since there has been a formal challenge in Aulix?” “Thirty-eight years,” Anrel replied immediately. “Lord Nerval Cherneth challenged the sitting burgrave of Paldis, a Lord Kordomir, and defeated him easily.” “How do you . . . oh, never mind. It doesn’t matter.” Dorias sighed. “Even if Lord Allutar chooses not to do you any permanent physical harm, Valin, and I doubt you will be so fortunate as that, do you know what this will do to your reputation?
What do You think about A Young Man Without Magic?
