Back Foundation
Chapters (24)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Chapter 1
  5. Chapter 2
  6. Chapter 3
  7. Chapter 4
  8. Chapter 5
  9. Chapter 6
  10. Chapter 7
  11. Chapter 8
  12. Chapter 9
  13. Chapter 10
  14. Chapter 11
  15. Chapter 12
  16. Chapter 13
  17. Chapter 14
  18. Chapter 15
  19. Chapter 16
  20. Chapter 17
  21. Chapter 18
  22. Chapter 19
  23. Chapter 20
  24. EPILOGUE

Well, that was convenient. It was the first time that Dallen had done anything of the sort like that, relaying a message, but Mags could see how useful it was. He borrowed one of the baskets that had held the bread, wrapped his luncheon in the napkin that was still in it, and went on up to Caelen’s office. Once again he was struck by how noisy the Collegium was, with the sounds of hammers and other tools echoing down the empty corridors.

“Mags!” the head of the Collegium greeted him, perhaps sensing his presence with some Gift or other, before he even came into view. “I told you I would sort something out about things to wear to Master Soren’s Midwinter festivities, and I have. Come along, I have a stack of things for you.”

Curious now, Mags hurried to do as he was requested. The office was a good bit cleaner; the number of books was at least halved. Evidently, the workmen had been putting in good progress on the Collegium library.

Herald Caelen indicated a pile of folded gray fabric on one of the chairs. “Some of our Heralds have been highborn or very wealthy, you know,” he said with a smile. “And even though they are supposed to wear the same uniforms as the rest of the Trainees, you can’t keep their parents from having nonregulation Grays made for them. I just canvassed the Heralds assigned to the City and those that were visiting their families here at Court until I found three sets of personally tailored Grays that I thought would fit you.”

Nonregulation Grays? Mags picked up the topmost garment from the pile and the soft fabric caught a little on his rough hand. A few moons ago he wouldn’t have known what these things were except soft. Now he had names for them; velvet and damask, doeskin leather, lambswool. No one looking at these Grays would mistake them for the sort worn for classes and more physical lessons; the cut was the same, and the design, but that was where the resemblance ended.

Mags had names for these fabrics, but he had never actually expected to touch any of them, much less wear them himself.