Chapter Four – The Golden Circle

Lawrence was barely back in his room when another knock interrupted his sketching work. Choosing for now to hide it under a few empty sheets of paper, he called for the intruder to come in.

He managed to hide his surprise with some difficulty when he came face to face with Herr Becker again. Maybe the housemaster was there to talk about the matter of the heater. For all he could brave the cold if need be, Lawrence preferred to enjoy basic comfort when possible.

The housemaster stopped before taking one step more than necessary inside the room. But his eyes were already observing, taking in everything, searching – without a doubt – for all the signs that the new transfer student was putting his mark on the place more than allowed.

Lawrence always kept his things in order. However, he waited patiently for Herr Becker’s perfunctory appraisal to be over.

“The Rector will see you now,” the housemaster said, already turning on his heel without waiting to see if Lawrence was following him.

***

The Rector’s office was located in the old keep, above the administrative offices where all the paperwork was handled, along with other chores, and underneath the belfry. Lawrence couldn’t shake off the thought that this part of the castle had to be the oldest and also the least to have suffered extensive renovation. Modern-life amenities must have been installed, he concluded, because it seemed counter-intuitive to house the most important man in the entire academy in a place that didn’t come with all the things that made life comfortable.

It didn’t appear that way as he climbed a narrow staircase, right behind Herr Becker. Even the air was staler here, making Lawrence’s nostrils flare unpleasantly. He wasn’t the kind to be easily put off by bad smells, but he could hardly keep his face schooled in a neutral expression.

When they reached the landing, it got better, and he inhaled slowly. Strange, he thought, how warm the air seemed to be here. The cause of it was quickly identified: concealed heaters kept the corridor at the ideal temperature. What Ali had told him before about the common spaces not getting the benefit of heating didn’t apply to the top floor occupied by the Rector’s office, it seemed.

The brass plate on the door proclaimed only a single word – RECTOR, written in bold italicized black letters against golden metal.

“He is expecting you. Go right in,” Herr Becker instructed him, already on his way. The housemaster was a busy man. Without a doubt, he must’ve cut a piece out of his valuable time to fetch the new transfer.

Lawrence knocked and waited. It felt ridiculous to go right in, as had been indicated by Herr Becker, but waiting for too long would make him appear unused to the rules of the place. With a shrug, he put his hand on the handle, opened the door and walked in.

The room had a ceiling so tall that Lawrence had to tip his head back to take it all in. The only outside light came through a narrow window and fell on an old, massive desk. Because of the office’s strange layout, Lawrence had to walk in a semicircle to position himself in front of the desk – and the man behind it.

Guarded from behind by stacks of shelves that rose close to the ceiling, in which tomes of wisdom jostled against each other so closely there was no room for a single pin, the Rector waited. His body posture suggested that he’d waited long enough. With eyes like steel and iron-gray hair, he appeared at first as immobile as a statue. He sat with his hands steepled in front of him and watched Lawrence over them. The conservative cut of his dark suit, like Herr Becker’s, suggested that the Rector wasn’t the kind of man to change his clothes according to fashion trends.

“Mr. Garth,” he said in a voice that sounded as grave as a whisper in a cathedral, “welcome to Veridien. I’m Helmut Reichenau.”

“Herr Rector,” Lawrence said politely, inclining his head a smidge.

The Rector didn’t invite him to sit, which meant that the meeting would be short.

“Is everything satisfactory so far? Should you encounter any difficulty, remember that your housemaster is your first point of contact. Despite what the title might suggest, there are no masters here. Our noble duty is to facilitate your success. Please, take a seat.” A hand, dry as paper, gestured for him to obey the spoken invitation.

So much for getting out of this quickly. Lawrence sat gingerly on one of the two lavish armchairs facing the Rector’s desk obliquely. Since it would cause too much trouble to adjust the armchair, he chose to sit at an uncomfortable angle so he could continue to face Reichenau.

The Rector moved slowly, with precision, and for now ignored Lawrence in favor of the folder open in front of him.

“Your file makes an interesting read, Mr. Garth. An inclination toward languages, history, and archeology. And then, one year at the police academy. Quaint, I’d say.” The sharp eyes raised from the papers documenting a half-true, half-fabricated educational background for Lawrence.

“Useful,” Lawrence countered. He had expected this interrogation. “For what I’m training for.”

“Training,” Reichenau commented, his lips twitching in amusement for one moment. “We educate here, Mr. Garth. We do not train.”

“An unfortunate choice of words,” Lawrence hurried to cover his mistake. Three years at the police academy and the earlier four at the specialized high school had bent him a certain way. He needed to be more careful from now on.

The Rector stood and walked slowly toward the wall with the window. Lawrence noticed that Reichenau was staring intently at a framed quote. “Do me a favor, Mr. Garth. Translate this for me.”

Lawrence had no choice but to follow him. He stopped by the Rector’s side and read carefully.

Monstra sunt quae nos admonent

His pulse quickened slightly. Of course, he was being tested.

“Well, Mr. Garth?” the Rector pressed on.

Lawrence took a moment. He wasn’t eager to become the teacher’s pet, but he needed to provide the proper answer to achieve the desired result. Impressing the Rector, at this point, was essential for his success at Veridien, and he wasn’t thinking about academic success.

“Omens exist to warn us,” he said slowly, as if he needed some deliberation to come up with the translation.

“Oh,” Reichenau commented, “omens. Are you sure?”

“Yes, Herr Rector. We must understand language beyond seeing a string of letters and words. Its spirit lives in the correct interpretation.”

His answer appeared to please Reichenau. Lawrence would be lying if he didn’t admit that he felt relief when he was invited to return to his seat.

“No room for vagueness. That is what ancient languages teach us. We are wrong to consider ourselves mere interpreters. You will receive the necessary education to succeed in your pursuits. Herr Becker will see to all your needs.”

Lawrence understood when he was being dismissed. With a short bow – which he hoped didn’t seem too military-like for the Rector’s taste, he got up to take his leave.

“One more thing, Mr. Garth,” the Rector called after him, just as he was about to turn on his heel and escape the oppressive room. “Since you’re interested in studying Classical Greek, you’d do well to remember that Ancient Greece will always remain in history as the birthplace of exile.”

“Of course,” Lawrence said. He understood a veiled threat when he heard one. Ostracism could be his lot if he made mistakes. These people definitely weren’t receiving him with open arms. Like Herr Becker, Herr Reichenau intended to make it clear to him that he was and would remain a stranger, only temporarily accepted among his betters.

He’d do well, indeed, to remember this odd meeting. Ali had offered his friendship, but Lawrence was well aware that the student’s quirky, easygoing façade could very well be hiding someone with a mission, one that involved learning Lawrence’s secrets, should they exist or have the potential to become dangerous for the academy.

Only one single person appeared keen on getting to know Lawrence without ulterior motives. Bastien. But was he truly as disinterested as he appeared? People like him made redoubtable enemies because their appearance and the effect they had on others seemed so benign.

Being summoned by the Rector meant he’d have less time to prepare to meet the Golden Circle. But he would be ready for them and their questions, without a doubt.

***