Exile

Sword clashed on sword.

Lenardo parried and stepped back, deliberately open as he feinted, came in under his opponent's guard, and pulled his stroke before the blade touched the boy's throat.

"Decius, you were not Reading!" he scolded.

The boy flushed. He would have lost the fight and probably his life. "I didn't want you Reading me, Magister."

Lenardo shook his head. "I am not your teacher today. I am your enemy, non-Reader, open for you to Read and combat."

"Yes, Magister," Decius said contritely-for the dozenth time.

"Let me try him," said a voice from the sidelines.

"That's not fair!" protested Decius, and Lenardo smiled. Where else would a student of swordsmanship consider his opponent to have an unfair advantage because he was blind from birth?

Torio, who was lounging gracefully on the bench where Lenardo and Decius had laid'their cloaks, now rose, doffing his own cloak and striding easily forward, Reading his way.

Lenardo had taught Torio swordsmanship-but the student was now more skilled than the teacher. At seventeen, Torio was tall, with a long reach, but his real advantage was his disconcerting eyes. Years ago, he had not been able to concentrate on swordplay and the social amenity of making his eyes appear to focus at the same time. Then he discovered that others were put off stride by a swordsman who was obviously blind.

By now, Torio needed no advantage but the skill he had developed with long practice. He had long since stopped showing off; Lenardo Read clearly Torio's eagerness to teach Decius-the sincere desire of a true teacher to share the process of discovery.

Decius was only thirteen, his body just beginning its adolescent growth spurt. Torio adjusted his own skill to the younger boy's as Lenardo watched approvingly.

Decius, however, was watching Torio, becoming fascinated by the milky eyes that drifted, unfocused. A yelp and a clang-Torio disarmed him, then pinned him against the wall. "Don't watch me-Read me! By the gods, Decius, you waste your talent! Magister, will you lend me your kerchief?"

"No!" cried Decius.

"You are a Reader," Torio told him. "You have as much talent as I, but you lean on your five senses. Block out the most important of them, and you will have to Read." He tied the fine linen kerchief over Decius' eyes. "There. Now, let us fight as equals."

Lenardo could Read Decius' tight throat and sweaty palms. Now the boy had to Read Torio, their surroundings, and himself, all at once. He fumbled, could not even parry at first, backed against the bench and almost fell. Then, by degrees, he found his way. Within half an hour he had made more progress than Lenardo had got from him in a month.

Torio allowed Decius a touch, saying, "Now you're doing it, Decius. Good work. By the time you've reached your full stature, you'll be a better swordsman than I am."

Blushing at such praise from an acknowledged sword-master, Decius pulled off the blindfold, blinking hi the bright sunlight. Torio smiled and answered his half-formed thought, "Yes, it is as bright for me." //I am still Reading, Decius. I cannot not Read, or the darkness enfolds me.”

"Will you work with me again tomorrow, Torio? Oh! Pardon, Magister Lenardo-I didn't mean-"

Lenardo smiled at the boy's confusion. "For this particular skill, Torio is the better teacher. I shall assign you to him."

"Oh-thank you, Magister!" Decius had stopped Reading again-a pity, Lenardo thought, for he missed the warm anticipation from Torio. "Tomorrow! I'll be ready- I promise!"

As Decius hurried off, he also missed the cold apprehension that went through Lenardo at his words. The teacher cut it off, lest Torio Read him. He knew, Read, that tomorrow Torio would not teach Decius. That was all, except for an attending bleak sorrow.

But the blind boy was too enthralled to notice that Lenardo had stopped Reading. "My own student! My very first!"

"Yes, Torio," Lenardo agreed. "You are certainly qualified to teach swordsmanship, even if your methods are… unorthodox."

Torio laughed. "But they should not be. Boys come here at eight or nine, completely reliant on their five wits. I' came at seven, and within a year I was a proficient Reader -simply because I could not rely on my eyes. New boys would learn much faster if for a portion of each day we blindfolded them-aye, and stopped their ears, too. Then. they'd have to learn to Read."

For a moment, Torio's enthusiasm woke in Lenardo the delight he had felt whenever Galen had proposed a new idea-but Galen was gone now. Lenardo's fault for not teaching him to master his enthusiasm. He must not make the same mistake with this boy, who shone above the other boys just as Galen had.

"When you are Master here, Torio, then you may institute your own techniques."

"But you will be Master long before that, Magister. And even now you might try my suggestions."

Witt I ever be worthy to be a Master? Lenardo blocked the thought, then covered his discomfiture with a laugh. 'Torio, Torio, just appointed tutor today and already trying to run the academy!"

As he had hoped, the boy was distracted. "Tutor! Yes- if I have a student, then I am officially a tutor! Oh, thank you, Magister Lenardo!".

"You deserve the post. I shall consult with Master Clement about your tutoring one or two beginning Readers. If you don't frighten them to death, you will have the chance to demonstrate whether your method produces good Readers in less time."

"Frighten them?… Oh, yes-I understand. I must Read the new boys to comprehend the fear of the dark, for I have never feared it. Dark was all I knew until I was seven years old-and you showed me light."

"It was you who Read me, Torio," said Lenardo, recalling the surge of joy ten years before, when he found in the little blind boy the talent that would release him from his dark and circumscribed world. In those days he had never questioned his calling to teach. Now he was no longer certain-no longer trusted his judgment to guide the young Readers. How well had he guided Galen, that the boy had come to question the law-and.been branded a criminal, thrust beyond the pale, where he would have to cease Reading-or die?

Surely he is dead by now, Lenardo thought. And yet.., I would know. I loved that boy. I cannot Read for him into the savage lands-but surely I would perceive if he were dead.

"Magister?"

"What? Oh, I'm sorry, Torio. It's nearly midday. Come -let's see what the refectory has to offer."

As they began to unstrap their swords, however, Torio stiffened. "Magister-Read!" His delicate, skilled hands reversed their actions as the alarm bell clanged, rousing all Readers to open their minds to the message.

//Attack! Adigia is under attack! Battle positions!//

Three years ago, Lenardo would have dashed with Torio to defend the gates. Fifteen years before, he would have run, as Decius should be doing, to hide with the children. Now, however, his place was in the center tower of the keep, deep within the stone walls where the most skilled Readers would direct the battle while remaining safe from the attackers. For Readers were the only defense of civilization against the encroachment of the savages.

Lenardo was well into the passage before it occurred to him that Torio, despite his youth, was an increasingly skilled Reader who should be protected. /'// put it to Master Clement at the first opportunity.

The unlit passage twisted and turned, winding stairs deliberately impeding progress. In utter blackness, it was negotiable only by a Reader. A torch would throw hundreds of flickering shadows to fool the eye. For a Reader, though, the passage might as well be open to the sunlight.