Knights Magi (Book 4) by Terry Mancour Page B

I am not myself young enough to enjoy the changes.  I do not blame you for your enthusiasm and eagerness,” he said, amused, “I merely urge you to temper it with education, caution . . . and wisdom.”
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    “I bet you’re elated! ” Tyndal said accusingly as they left the Master’s Hall.  “Two more endless weeks of studying everything you want!”
    “Are you kidding?  You’re the one who should be thrilled,” Rondal said, angrily.  “You get to read in peace for four weeks!  I’ve got to go to bloody military school in a fortnight!”
    “How is that fair?” Tyndal agreed, disgusted.  “Why should you get to go first?”
    “ Get to go?” Rondal shrieked.  “I feel like I’ve been condemned . . . for being better than you!”
    “What?” Tyndal whirled around to face his fellow apprentice.  “ Better than me?”
    “You know what I mean!” Rondal said, sourly.  “I know more than you.  I’m a better wizard than you.  I—”
    Tyndal stared at him in disbelief.  “ Better wizard?  Just how do you figure that?   You know more than I do . . . on parchment .  Did you defeat two Censors on your own?”
    “If you remember correctly, Lady Pentandra and I were there to help out!”
    “I was doing fine without you!”
    “You were about to get blasted without us!”
    “Without her , maybe.  You were pretty much useless!” Tyndal snorted.
    “I was following her orders! ” Rondal said, his nostrils flaring.
    “ I was saving Master Min’s family!” Tyndal stated triumphantly.
    “And that makes you a better wizard?” Rondal asked in amazement?  “That speaks to your motivations, not to your skill.  Someday maybe we’ll settle who the better wizard is . . . but based on those marks you’d better hope it’s not any time soon!” his fellow apprentice nearly bellowed as he stomped away.
    Tyndal seethed as he watched him go, but he didn’t have a ready retort.  Mostly because he couldn’t really argue with Rondal’s reasoning.  Tyndal had outstanding motivations . . . but even in the scrap he’d just bragged about he hadn’t used anything much classier than a cantrip.
    Rondal was, Tyndal realized, the better wizard.  And for some reason that infuriated him.
    Tyndal considered heading to the library to study, as he had been bidden . . . but his mind was not on scholarship, after his argument.  Instead he sought out the gatehouse guards and managed to work out some of his emotions with wooden swords and padded armor.
    He’d been fortunate enough to arrive just as the duty shifts were changing, so he was able to spar with four guards each in turn.  One after the other they fell to his blade – or at least gave him a challenging fight.  Only Ancient Galdan had any success in keeping the lad’s swift strikes and well-delivered blows from bruising him.
    “What’s gotten into you today, boy?” the older man said, after their third pass with the wooden practice swords.  “You seem driven by demons!”
    “Just working out some tension,” Tyndal said, tight-lipped. 
    “That’s more than mere examination stress,” the old veteran said, quietly.  “I’ve seen enough students come through here to tell.  Nay, lad . . . someone’s gotten to you.”
    “I’m just not nearly as good a mage as I am a warmage,” snorted Tyndal as he strapped on the practice armor. 
    Galdan shrugged as he traded his steel sword for a wooden one.  “That’s to be expected.  Takes years to become a good mage.”
    “Well, I didn’t get years,” Tyndal complained, sourly as he came into guard.  “I got months .  And now everyone is expecting everything from me!”
    Galdan chuckled as he returned Tyndal’s off-handed salute.  “Lay on!  Welcome to manhood,