Read A Call to Arms: Book One of the Chronicles of Arden for Free Online

“I asked for his name, Marc, not to be introduced.”
    Gib blurted without thinking, “Pleasure to meet you, Master Lyle. I’m Gibben Nemesio.”
    The Instructions Master reacted as though someone had just slapped him across the face. He floundered, clearly offended by something, and Gib was sure he shouldn’t have spoken directly to someone so lofty. He knew better. His father would have scolded him for such “sass” but in the moment it had seemed like the best thing to say. What right did this Diedrick Lyle have to talk down to someone he didn’t know? The right of privilege, idiot, something you don’t have , Gib thought to himself with a grimace.
    Liza’s eyes were wide and Marc coughed so as not to laugh. The dean drew enough attention away from the offence that Diedrick lost some of his rigidity and opted to slink back into his chair, glaring at the lot of them. He said not another word, only scratching his quill against the parchment in front of him.
    Marc cleared his throat to ground their conversation. “All right, Gibben, did you say you were a volunteer or drafted?”
    Gib instinctively reached for his rucksack and the conscription notice within. “Uh, I got this—I’m drafted? I guess?” He was blushing again. Every word from his lips seemed to land without grace. Why did he have to sound so dimwitted? He found the scroll at last and offered it with a shaking hand. Marc accepted and his smile felt warm and reassuring.
    The dean read over the scroll once and nodded. He asked if Gib’s name was spelled correctly on the scroll and then relayed the letters to Diedrick. “You’ve seen thirteen summers then?”
    “Thirteen wheelturns. Yeah.” Gib fidgeted with his hands, unsure if he should offer more.
    Marc graciously didn’t wait. “Just old enough then. You’ll need to be trained in basic hand to hand combat as well as Ardenian law and policies.”
    Gib nodded, head swimming again. Laws? Policies? I hope this will all be explained . He tapped his fingers on his knees and tried to focus.
    Diedrick spoke again, addressing only Marc. “That’s all the recruited need. Anything further would be a waste of funds. He’ll pay back his debt to Arden by having extra time for chores.”
    Gib winced but kept his treacherous mouth closed.
    It was Marc who came to his defense, as Liza seemed to know when to keep quiet and had offered to say nothing since they’d first arrived. The dean held up a hand, signaling for Diedrick to pause. “Can you read, Gibben? Or write? Calculate?”
    Gib swallowed, but his mouth felt bone dry. “I, uh—I can read some. And write my name, some small words. There’s a bit of calculating to be used for farm work but nothing grand.”
    Diedrick snorted again as he continued to scribble.
    Without any trace of scorn or pity, Marc came to a quick decision. He glanced over at Diedrick again. “Add him for basic literacy skills and arithmetic.”
    The Instructions Master looked up, his face drawn and eyes fierce. “Literacy and arithmetic? What exactly do you think he’ll be reading and calculating on the battlefront?”
    “I said to add him to the roster. Do it,” Marc reiterated.
    Diedrick Lyle set his quill down and gave the dean a withering glare. “This will be considered a waste of funds and will have to be approved by the council—”
    “I’ll speak to King Rishi. Don’t concern yourself.”
    The argument ceased there and the only sound in the room was the rapid scratching of quill on parchment, along with muttered curses and various inquiries as to what a common peasant could possibly learn from further classes. Gib tried his best to ignore the ranting.
    Marc clapped his hands together. “All right, Gibben. Let’s take you to your room, shall we?”
    Diedrick Lyle may have had something venomous to say about that as well, but Gib leapt from his seat and was out the door so quickly that if any words were spoken, they were lost in the bustle of movement. Liza