Cold Magics by Erik Buchanan

smile at him, just gave him a glare before turning her attention back to her food. It was the largest breakfast Thomas had seen in his life. The others had already dug into the food and Thomas, guessing that little conversation was going to occur until everyone was finished eating, did likewise. He was well stuffed before he’d tried even half the dishes. Eileen spent more time playing with her food than eating it.
    “The chancellor is speaking to the king this morning,” said Henry around a mouthful of sausage. “Hopefully that will get us in to the king this afternoon or tomorrow. Once that audience is over, we leave.” He swallowed. “I’m speaking to the principal of the Academy this morning, and hope to address the students this afternoon or tomorrow.”
    “How many of them will come?” asked Cavish.
    “Not many,” said Henry. “We’ll get maybe a hundred interested, and of those only half will know how to use their swords properly. Of those, only half will be able to get permission to leave.”
    “So maybe twenty-five men?”
    “Barely men,” said Baron Meekin. “They start the Academy at fourteen, don’t they?”
    “We won’t take any younger than sixteen,” said Henry. “And all that come will have fencing experience.”
    “But not battle experience,” said Cavish.
    “None of the men we find will have battle experience,” said a burly fellow with a greying beard—Sir Patrick, Thomas remembered. “The South has been peaceful for a long time. The best we can hope for is some weapons training among the students, and some battle discipline from the soldiers.”
    “And what will you two be doing this day?” asked Henry, looking at Thomas and Eileen.
    “Making arrangements,” said Thomas. “If Eileen is staying here until her father comes for her, I need to leave a note at the apartment. Also, I should collect some things,” he added, thinking of the spell books secured inside the wall of his room.
    “Eileen?” repeated Sir Patrick.
    “Me,” snapped Eileen. “I’m a girl.”
    “A girl?” Patrick’s eyes went wide. “Dressed as a boy and carrying a sword? If my daughter did that, I’d…” He shook his head. “I can’t even think of what I’d do.”
    “Well, you’d better think fast, Patrick,” said the man across from him. “She’s getting of an age.”
    “The Father save us, I hope not!” said Patrick, fervently.
    A chuckle made its way around the table.
    “You’ll need winter clothes,” Henry said to Thomas. “Frostmire is unfortunately prone to living up to its name.” Another round of chuckles circled the table. “There was snow on the ground when we left.”
    “Wonderful,” said Thomas.
    “Sir Michael,” Henry gestured to the man who had joked with Sir Patrick moments before. “Would you take Thomas shopping?”
    “In a few hours, if I may, Lord Henry,” said Michael. “I still have some matters to square away with the shipmasters who are bringing supplies north for us.”
    “Afternoon is fine,” said Thomas. “It will give me time to get organized.”
    “Here,” Henry tossed a purse on the table in front of Thomas. “For the winter gear you’ll need, as well as a horse and tack once we land in Weaversland. And this,” Henry slid a letter across the table, “is for your father.”
    Thomas looked at the letter in surprise, then at Henry. The young lord smiled. “I didn’t think that a letter from you saying that you’ve left school would endear you to him. That one has the seal of Frostmire on it, and a very well-written apology for requiring your services.”
    “Thank you, Henry,” said Thomas. “I’ll still need to write my own, but this will help.”
    “You’re welcome,” said Henry. “And now, we should all be about our business.” He stood, and the rest of his company rose to its feet. Thomas and Eileen followed suit a moment later. “We’ll meet back here by end of day, gentlemen. With luck, we will have the answer we want