Page 2 of Apt to be Suspicious
From there, Edmund went off to the Bod, inhaling the smell of a properly ancient library with pleasure as always. He made a slight circuit, pausing to consult the lists of the additions since the end of Trinity term. It was also a chance to silently nod to a few others reading Greats. He’d have to keep an eye on his pidge at Exeter for notes. He was sure there would be a few coming now people knew he was back. They’d be a range of invitations, but also people wanting to pick his brain and borrow his notes. Both would need some delicate attention.
An hour later, he emerged to find several people walking towards him. “Bells!” That, rather predictably, had promptly turned into Edmund’s nickname among a certain set of men who’d gone to one of the better public schools. Carillon did rather strongly suggest it, and Bells was certainly a far better fate than some nicknames. “How was your long vac?”
“Plenty of reading.” Edmund came up to them. Three men, all his year. Two were enough younger they’d come straight up to Oxford from school. Only Tugs had served in the war. He’d done some sort of honourable and decidedly military service, which meant Edmund kept having to duck questions about his own war work. “You?”
“Grand trip to the Alps with a reading party. You really ought to come with us next vac. Nothing like Christmas in Switzerland.”
Edmund waved a hand. “You know how it is, family.” He wouldn’t miss another solstice at home if he could help it. He’d had to during the war, other than perhaps an afternoon or evening on leave. There’d been precious little of that on offer. He’d taken only what Major Manse had insisted on, because of worries about not being there for some critical moment. “Tell me about it, though, would you? Who’d you go with?” The four of them wandered off together amiably to find a drink and a place to chat. That served Edmund’s needs for the day very well indeed.
Chapter 2
Tuesday, October 14th
Edmund turned the corner into the Academy quad, not quite running, but certainly covering ground at his fastest loping walk. He was not late, but he was certainly behind when he’d wanted to be here. Uncle Alexander had said to expect him at four, and it was quarter to four now. They had two hours to work and begin to settle things for the term. Edmund wanted to make the most of the time.
As he turned into the quad, however, Edmund paused, because Uncle Alexander was deep in conversation with Uncle Giles. Uncle Giles had his guide dog Cassia at his feet. She was his second, now used to the routine of coming into the Academy. Cassia was so much at ease at the moment that she was a comfortable lump of brown and black fur on the ground.
Edmund knew Uncle Giles would sort out who he was by magical signature, but there was no reason to be rude and plenty of reason to make it easier. Once he got close enough that Uncle Alexander interrupted what he’d been saying, Edmund announced himself clearly, “Uncle Giles, it’s Edmund. Uncle Alexander, sorry to keep you waiting. Mister Balsdon caught me in the quad on my way over, with an idea for my essay this week.”
“Starting early, isn’t he?” Uncle Giles snorted. “He has a reputation as a demanding tutor.”
“Thorough, Uncle Giles, is the word I prefer to use.” To be fair to the man, Mister Balsdon was likely the best tutor Edmund could have had of the three at Exeter. Oh, he enjoyed conversations with the other two. Mister Balsdon preferred the Romans over the Greeks, and Edmund’s interest was the other way around. But he also had a reputation for kindness, for attention to students, and for being engaged in the larger world in a way Edmund appreciated.
Uncle Giles waved a hand, and Cassia rolled onto her stomach and then got to her feet. “I’ll leave you to your plans. Kate’s off tonight, so I’m going home at a reasonable hour.” His wife, as a Captain in Albion’s Guard, worked all sorts of odd times. Uncle Giles had his fair share of meals at high table at Oriel during term, but he made a point of going home to Trellech for supper with Aunt Kate on the nights she was free. Oxford was no longer the residence of unmarried dons, and people understood the variation.
“We have plenty to keep us busy. Have a grand evening, Giles.” Uncle Alexander certainly seemed to be in a buoyant mood.
Edmund murmured his goodbyes and then turned to Uncle Alexander. “Do you need me to bring anything up?”
“No, nothing for today. I’ll likely have at least a case next time. Show me our space, will you?” Uncle Alexander was absolutely in a mood, yes. Edmund made a slight bow, mostly for their mutual amusement, and then led the way toward the central stair, and into his workroom.
At the door, he whispered the chant that would let Uncle Alexander attune himself to the warding, and opened the door once that was done. He immediately moved down toward the desk, so Uncle Alexander had elbow room to explore the space and decide what he thought.
“Oh, this is particularly well designed. And that view.” Uncle Alexander nudged the door closed, locked it with a charm, and then opened a cabinet or two, considering the shelving. He then nodded at the small shrine Edmund had set up on the shelves to the right of the desk. “And your Mercury shrine. Suitable for your work here, of course.”
That was not large, but it had the essentials. He had a larger one in his rooms, especially since his degree of devotion was not entirely common these days. Here, there was a small bowl for offerings, an incense burner, and an oil lamp. Behind them sat a small marble statuette of Mercury, in the Romano-British form. There was a decorous cloak draped over his body, his hand holding a bag filled with goods. A rooster lurked at his feet, the feathers mirroring the wings on Mercury’s ankles and hat. Decorously suitable for a space others might see, unlike some of the perhaps excessively ithyphallic Mercuries Edmund had seen over the years.
That noted, Uncle Alexander prowled off to look in the ritual room. “Nearly as nicely made as Ytene’s. Honestly, better than mine, it’s settled well with age, hasn’t it?” Two heartbeats later, there was another, even more pleased hum. “And you’ve done all the preparatory work and done it well. I am not surprised, but I am pleased.”
Edmund was grinning now, but he didn’t say anything.
“Do you know how you ended up with this one? I didn’t expect it this year.” The thing was, they rarely changed the assignments for the better workrooms once someone settled into them. There were many reasons for that. Part of it had to do with the necessity of cleaning it out thoroughly for different magical uses.
“I didn’t either. Harris said the Dean made a point of it, and I heard a few tidbits in the Junior Common Room about it.” Uncle Alexander was not an Oxford man, but he’d certainly picked up a fair bit from Papa and Uncle Giles by now. “Here at the Academy, of course.”
“Your college’s JCR would not be talking about magical workrooms, no.” Uncle Alexander agreed. “It seems a room particularly well tuned to words. Was that Wilton, do you think? You were at his viva, I remember.”
“It would be unlike you to forget.” Uncle Alexander hadn’t been able to make it, but Edmund had taken detailed notes. “The world has not yet presented me with an opportunity to ask probing questions of Dean Boyer. Also you are far more likely to get actual information out of her.” Uncle Alexander had all sorts of both leverage and lures that Edmund did not. “But I think it’s either about the Naming work, or about the philology work. Possibly both.” The Dean didn’t know precisely that Edmund was studying Naming, but he was sure she was keeping Uncle Alexander’s skills firmly in mind in the assignment.
“Hm.” Uncle Alexander put his head back out of the door. “Come along, then, let’s talk about that. Wash up. We can use the table. I’ve the tools we’ll want.”
“Coming.” Edmund gave the verbal acknowledgement that had been trained into him in London and went to wash up properly. He left his gown on the hook on the wall and traded his jacket for a sleeveless over robe of black silk from the wardrobe. Next, he scrubbed up his hands thoroughly with the soap he’d set out. That was to Uncle Alexander’s specifications, from a purveyor he preferred in Trellech. That done, Edmund came back to the workroom, closing the door behind him, bowing slightly, and waiting by the door.
Uncle Alexander waved him in. “I appreciate the attention to detail, but we needn’t bother too much with formality in private, mmm?”
“As you prefer.” Edmund considered, then decided that was more than enough to ask. “You seem in a particularly good mood?”
Uncle Alexander turned around, beaming. “Oh, yes. I am looking forward to this year with you. I was working through my plans last night. I believe you’ll approve. We have made it through the more necessarily tedious parts, despite the limitations of war, your first year up at Oxford, my abominable schedule, several significant changes on the Council, and the fact your sister is somehow old enough to be apprenticing herself.”
