Well, I can only hope you weren't using the phrase literally! ;-)
Speak of the devil Fabian considered putting the books back on the shelves and then decided that the visitor's chair probably needed them more. He knew where they were if he needed to reference them, and at least one of them, a directory from five years ago, probably was more useful as a chair-prop than taking up space on his shelves anyway. He looked at the bookcases thoughtfully, noting where the gaps where, and his eyes fell on a shelf on the right-hand side which was Museum publications on the various artefacts that they held. Without really thinking about it he walked over, and pulled one out. Naturally the Maestro had several articles in it, along with typically one artefact from any other researcher and Fabian permitted himself a thin lipped smile. Someone knocked on his door, and his smile vanished. "Who is it?" He'd given up on "Come in" years ago, when he realised that most people would take any noise from the other side as an invitation. As he expected the door opened, and as he definitely hadn't expected, the Maestro shuffled in. He was carrying his habitual cup of coffee in one hand and a small paperback book in the other. "Speak of the devil!" said Fabian, slightly startled that the Maestro would appear just as he was looking at his work. "What?" The Maestro glared at him. "I saw Cass Treblinka haunting the corridor here before I arrived; you'd better not have been discussing me with her! I've told you before, all you need to know is in my HR file and anything that isn't there isn't as important as you seem to think it is!" "No," said Fabian feeling slightly bemused. Hadn't Cass left well before the Maestro had knocked? He held up the journal. "I was actually just counting the number of articles you had in this issue of Museum Annals and you knocked." "More than you, that's for sure," said the Maestro. He looked around and espied the visitor's chair, and without waiting for an invitation sat down. Fabian's heart sank just a little. "I was writing papers when you were still learning how to... when you were finishing getting hangovers."
"I think I still get hangovers," said Fabian. "Or at least, I don't feel like I've stopped getting them exactly." He frowned, wondering how to encourage the Maestro to leave. "Do you know how many people apply to join the Assessors each year?" The Maestro's face crinkled a little around the eyes and his lips pressed together. After a long moment, he said, "No. And that's a curious question. There used to be applications for the role of Assessor, but I haven't heard anyone talk about it in years now. You might ask Oswald of course, he's a funny chap with funny ideas. Did you know he wanted to alphabetise the ossuary? I threatened to put him in there himself, under B for Berk if he did." Fabian recognised the potential start of a rant and broke in. "Well, Oswald can only make suggestions," he said. "I'd be mad not to consult with you before making changes like that." "Damn right you would be! I'd put you in there as well, next to bloody Oswald." Fabian's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. "Does that mean you'd beat Oswald up? Or that you think he'd struggle to avoid going in there and then you'd have to hurt him?" The Maestro hesitated, and looked down at his hands. He sipped his coffee, bright eyes meeting Fabian's over the rim of his cup, and then he forced a smile onto his face and held out the book. "I came to give you this," he said. "Well, loan you that. Strictly a loan as well, as it's not actually mine anymore." "What?" Fabian looked at the book; the cover was plain blue with black lettering reading Umber Hulk: a study. "I wrote it," said the Maestro sounding as though his patience was wearing thin with a particularly dull student, "but it was year-- months ago. Several months ago, admittedly. Jointly actually, with Sebastian Framer. He deposited a copy in the Mages College Library, which is useful as I seem to have given all my copies away to colleagues. So I wrote the book -- mostly --- and it's my book, in a manner of speaking, but if you don't return it in good condition by Monday the Mages College will come and ask you questions about it." He stood up. "Be a good boy and don't damage it, because I'm not taking the fall for you."
Greg - yes, well, that would have been rather unfortunate if I had been...
The Maestro is a fun addition to this story, in case I haven't mentioned that already. I am curious to learn more of his background, but prudent enough to know better than to actually start digging. I don't want to end up in that ossuary either.
3 comments:
Well, I can only hope you weren't using the phrase literally! ;-)
Speak of the devil
Fabian considered putting the books back on the shelves and then decided that the visitor's chair probably needed them more. He knew where they were if he needed to reference them, and at least one of them, a directory from five years ago, probably was more useful as a chair-prop than taking up space on his shelves anyway. He looked at the bookcases thoughtfully, noting where the gaps where, and his eyes fell on a shelf on the right-hand side which was Museum publications on the various artefacts that they held. Without really thinking about it he walked over, and pulled one out. Naturally the Maestro had several articles in it, along with typically one artefact from any other researcher and Fabian permitted himself a thin lipped smile.
Someone knocked on his door, and his smile vanished.
"Who is it?" He'd given up on "Come in" years ago, when he realised that most people would take any noise from the other side as an invitation. As he expected the door opened, and as he definitely hadn't expected, the Maestro shuffled in. He was carrying his habitual cup of coffee in one hand and a small paperback book in the other.
"Speak of the devil!" said Fabian, slightly startled that the Maestro would appear just as he was looking at his work.
"What?" The Maestro glared at him. "I saw Cass Treblinka haunting the corridor here before I arrived; you'd better not have been discussing me with her! I've told you before, all you need to know is in my HR file and anything that isn't there isn't as important as you seem to think it is!"
"No," said Fabian feeling slightly bemused. Hadn't Cass left well before the Maestro had knocked? He held up the journal. "I was actually just counting the number of articles you had in this issue of Museum Annals and you knocked."
"More than you, that's for sure," said the Maestro. He looked around and espied the visitor's chair, and without waiting for an invitation sat down. Fabian's heart sank just a little. "I was writing papers when you were still learning how to... when you were finishing getting hangovers."
"I think I still get hangovers," said Fabian. "Or at least, I don't feel like I've stopped getting them exactly." He frowned, wondering how to encourage the Maestro to leave. "Do you know how many people apply to join the Assessors each year?"
The Maestro's face crinkled a little around the eyes and his lips pressed together. After a long moment, he said, "No. And that's a curious question. There used to be applications for the role of Assessor, but I haven't heard anyone talk about it in years now. You might ask Oswald of course, he's a funny chap with funny ideas. Did you know he wanted to alphabetise the ossuary? I threatened to put him in there himself, under B for Berk if he did."
Fabian recognised the potential start of a rant and broke in.
"Well, Oswald can only make suggestions," he said. "I'd be mad not to consult with you before making changes like that."
"Damn right you would be! I'd put you in there as well, next to bloody Oswald."
Fabian's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. "Does that mean you'd beat Oswald up? Or that you think he'd struggle to avoid going in there and then you'd have to hurt him?"
The Maestro hesitated, and looked down at his hands. He sipped his coffee, bright eyes meeting Fabian's over the rim of his cup, and then he forced a smile onto his face and held out the book.
"I came to give you this," he said. "Well, loan you that. Strictly a loan as well, as it's not actually mine anymore."
"What?" Fabian looked at the book; the cover was plain blue with black lettering reading Umber Hulk: a study.
"I wrote it," said the Maestro sounding as though his patience was wearing thin with a particularly dull student, "but it was year-- months ago. Several months ago, admittedly. Jointly actually, with Sebastian Framer. He deposited a copy in the Mages College Library, which is useful as I seem to have given all my copies away to colleagues. So I wrote the book -- mostly --- and it's my book, in a manner of speaking, but if you don't return it in good condition by Monday the Mages College will come and ask you questions about it." He stood up. "Be a good boy and don't damage it, because I'm not taking the fall for you."
Greg - yes, well, that would have been rather unfortunate if I had been...
The Maestro is a fun addition to this story, in case I haven't mentioned that already. I am curious to learn more of his background, but prudent enough to know better than to actually start digging. I don't want to end up in that ossuary either.
Post a Comment