"That's all right, Doorkeeper; I am sure that you will look after him well. What I would like to know is why you thought it necessary to disturb me over the arrival of some bedraggled indigent, especially at such an early hour. Such matters are scarcely my concern."

Doorkeeper wrung his hands in discomfort. "Ah, he, er, he wants to become a Mage, Lord Thorn. He's very keen to talk to you."

Thorn sighed. "The more proper channel for such an application is through the Magemaster on night duty in the Scholasticate, as you well know. What is so urgent that you must disturb me at this hour?"

"Lord Thorn, he gave me a package with a Guild ring in it. I was half ready for bed myself when he came, but, of course, I ran to the hall as soon as the portal opened. I have to, you see…"

Thorn raised a dismissive hand again, and sighed even more theatrically than before. "Go on, then."

Doorkeeper hesitated and then held out the waxed package in a timid manner, with an expression like that on the face of a stranded seal pup, an expression which had never failed to irritate Thorn. How the quivering old fool before him had ever managed to become a mage was quite beyond the Prelate's comprehension, and he was far from alone in this view. As Thorn took the package, he sensed the unmistakable presence of a Guild Ring.

The old fool had spoken the truth, but, then again, even that senile dullard wore a similar ring, so that meant little. The boy's father might be some superannuated Reader, or even a Doorkeeper from another House; scarcely a cause for such great excitement. Thorn thought of saying so, but he summoned the self-control expected of a Mage of the Seventh Rank, drew a sharp breath and forced himself to be calm. Sarcasm might have an even more negative effect than ire on the hapless major-domo.

With some effort, Thorn managed a passable simulacrum of a seraphic smile and said in a falsely honeyed voice, "Thank you, Doorkeeper, that will be all for now. Well done. You may go."