Some of my opponents were Zhid, and some were slaves. There was a third kind of servant in the fortress called Drudges. Drudges were stupid and dull and never spoke, even though they weren’t forbidden it like the slaves. Drudges never fought as practice partners. They weren’t allowed to touch weapons, because they didn’t know what to do with them.

“They’re not Dar’Nethi, thus have no true power,” Ziddari told me, “so we have no need to collar them. They breed, and so make more of themselves. That can be useful. If they don’t work, we kill them. They have so little intelligence that it’s better for all. A mercy, in fact. They are nothing.”

I’d never thought of killing people as being a mercy, but if the person was too stupid even to know what to do with a knife, it made more sense.

My training in sorcery continued, too. Notole taught me how to call my horse from anywhere within the training grounds, how to prevent my sword from getting dull, and how to make my knife cut into a rock. I asked her how I could get more power for sorcery, and if it could enable me to do bigger things. She said that someday I would be able to do anything I wanted.