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if there has been any breach of religious covenant or
Academy regulations.”
    “Practicing wicke-craft is a breach of religious covenant,
is it not?”
    “There has been no proof that wicke-craft has been practiced
by either of these young people. Your son contests that there has been no wrong
done.”
    Moireach Arundel pointed at Meredydd. “She is a thief. She
steals my son’s life. That is the wrong she has done.”
    “No, mother! No. I. I have done wrong.” Wyth turned his face to the three Osraed behind their table. “I
have abused my position as an Aelder at this Academy and I have abused Prentice
Meredydd—humiliating her when I could, censuring her when I could not. I would
have been pleased if she had tried to seduce me, but she didn’t.”
    Meredydd gaped at him, not believing, for one moment, what she
was hearing. His mother made a strangled mewing sound and Ealad-hach cleared
his throat.
    “Then you do admit,” he said, “that she has distracted you
from your pursuit of the spiritual. That her presence has interfered with your
preparations for Pilgrimage.”
    “My passions have interfered with my pursuits, Osraed
Ealad-hach.” He glanced warily at Meredydd then. “She tried to warn me. I didn’t
want to hear it, so I ejected her from my Dream Tell class. She only told the
truth.”
    “Ah!” exclaimed Moireach Arundel. “But she spoke to him in
dreams. Surely that is wicke-craft.”
    “It is also a facet of the Divine Art, Moireach,” said
Calach mildly.
    “It was my dream,” said Wyth. “I gave it to her to
interpret. It was stupid of me, I realize. She could hardly interpret it any
other way but what she did. It wasn’t...flattering and I was angered and
ashamed. It was I who misbehaved, not Meredydd.”
    Meredydd glanced at the Osraed. Ealad-hach was frowning and
seemed uncertain, Calach was looking bemused and Bevol was smiling. Cheered,
Meredydd smiled, too.
    Moireach Arundel shrieked. “Smug, vile creature! My son is
ruined and she grins like a glutted cat!”
    “Your son is hardly ruined, Moireach,” said Bevol
reasonably. “In view of the circumstances, he has acted with honesty and
courage to admit so much. I think perhaps, he should apologize for abusing his
authority as an Aelder and apologize to Meredydd, as well, for whatever he
feels merits apology.”
    Moireach Arundel was livid. “Apologize? To her ?”
    Wyth ignored her. “I am sorry, Osraed. I accept your
punishment—whatever it might be.”
    “We will have to consult,” said Calach, glancing at his
fellows.
    “And what about her?” asked Moireach Arundel, waving a hand
at Meredydd. “She is not guiltless.”
    “Yes, she is,” said Wyth. “She has never encouraged me.”
    “Her very presence encourages you! It isn’t natural, Osraed,
for young men to hold such intimacy with the cailin. Especially not here, not
in such a holy place. Halig-liath is sacred ground, intended for sacred
pursuits, not earthly ones. Having her here encourages the pursuit of the
flesh. The boys strive to catch her wanton eye rather than the eye of God; they
seek her grace, not the grace of the Meri. She should be removed.”
    “That is for us to decide, Moireach Arundel,” said Calach. “But
we shall take your words under advisement.” He made a graceful gesture that
pointed her to the door and she left in a sweep of burgundy robes.
    “Aelder Prentice Wyth,” said Osraed Calach, “there have been
rumors of your behavior with regard to Prentice Meredydd. Not all of which have
reached your mother’s ears, I think. The rumors hint at a certain attachment to
her person. Perhaps you should contemplate whether the goal of this attachment
is an honorable one.”
    The red blaze down Wyth’s elongated face deepened to
crimson. “Yes, Osraed,” he mumbled.
    “We must consult,” said Ealad-hach. “You are both excused.”
    Meredydd fled the chamber as if a horde of snapping beasts
had risen out of the floor in pursuit. She