A feral light glinted in Grimwinkle’s dark eyes. “With such a tarnished career as yours, Professor Webb, I am astonished by your boldness to suggest how we go about our business here today. I am the one who will decide what needs to be done, and that is immediate termination. All in agreement, say aye.”
“Termination! Don’t be absurd.” Bram paced in front of the long table, clasping his hands behind his back to keep from flailing them in the air. “Members of the board, I beg you to consider the consequences of Professor Grimwinkle’s harsh penalty. My uncle has dedicated his life to the pursuit of knowledge and has been a loyal Trinity servant for decades. To cast him aside now, with only two terms left before his retirement, would be a grave injustice. It would not only be a blot on his legacy but rob him of the pension he’s worked so hard for over the years.”
Bram paused, searching the faces of those who held his uncle’sfate in their hands. “And so I implore this venerated committee to carefully consider the weight of your decision. This is not simply about one man’s career. It’s about a lifetime of dedication to the pursuit of knowledge and a desire to pass that intellectual wealth on to the next generation. I ask that each of you let reason and fairness guide your judgment.”
His uncle dashed up beside him and slapped down a portfolio of papers in front of Grimwinkle. “Take a look at this. Are these documents the sign of a slipped mind? I dare you to find one fault—one—and if you do, I shall resign this instant.”
“Is that so?” Grimwinkle smiled as he picked up the packet. “I look forward to this. Take a seat, gentlemen, while my colleagues and I read over these papers.”
Bram’s shoulders sank as they returned to the smaller table—or the isle of indictment, as he often thought of it. He’d suffered here far too many times to count. Sitting on his hands was the only action that kept him from planting his face in his palms.
Oh,Uncle,what have you done?
After a few deep breaths, he whispered to his uncle, “What did you give him?”
Uncle Pendleton leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his potbelly. “The first part of myTreatiseof Caelum Academia. My finest piece of writing if I do say so myself.”
“Silence!” Grimwinkle glowered as he passed along one of the papers.
Bram folded his arms, working hard to contain a scowl. Here he was again, waiting for an execution, though this time it was his uncle who would swing. Seconds, minutes, what might very well be hours ticked by, though he couldn’t confirm it. In the mood Grimwinkle was in, sliding out his cherished pocket watch just might get him terminated as well.
So there was nothing to do but sit there and sweat as the men digested his uncle’s writings. Would to God it all madesense. But with every raised brow, each huff of astonishment, and not just a few murmurs of disbelief, Bram’s hope flagged.
An eternity later, Grimwinkle handed off the last page, then frowned at Uncle Pendleton. “Impressive work, Professor, yet incomplete. Is there more?”
Uncle met his gaze. “Not yet.”
“Then I’m afraid, sir, your theory of a refuge for Roman Christians is null and void until—as I said earlier—evidence is presented. I warned you before when you lost your lecture notes for the annual fall seminar that I would suffer no more negligent behaviour from you, and I meant it. I’m afraid in this instance there can be no other resolution besides immediate termination, and so, gentlemen, once again I ask for your vote. All in agreement say—”
No! This couldn’t be happening. Not to the man he owed everything. He’d always known there’d been rivalry between Grimwinkle and his uncle, but not to this degree. Bram shot to his feet. “You will have your evidence by the end of the term.”
Grimwinkle’s finely manicured eyebrows lifted to the ceiling. “You’re going to unearth the Holy Grail—something that’s been sought after for millennia—in a mere ten weeks? You’re as mad as your uncle.”
“Even so”—Bram jutted his jaw—“one way or another, my uncle and I will prove that Caelum Academia is real.”
Hushed voices droned so low that Bram couldn’t make out a word. But at least the board was talking amongst themselves instead of rendering an immediate decision. That had to be good, didn’t it? He closed his eyes.
Please,God,make it so.
After a lengthy round of ominous discussion, Grimwinkle folded his hands atop the table and gave them an evil eye only a demon could be proud of. “A decision has been reached.”
Tension hung thick as an October fog.
For a long moment, Grimwinkle said nothing, no doubtenjoying this cat-and-mouse game, then he opened his thin lips. “This board shall reconvene on December thirteenth, at which point irrefutable confirmation will be presented by Professors Webb and Pendleton authenticating the existence of Caelum Academia,the supposed refuge of Roman Christians and artisans. If no such evidence is provided, Professor Pendleton will be deemed unfit as an instructor of excellence in the classroom and immediately dismissed. Is that clear?”
Before Bram could say anything, Uncle Pendleton’s voice rang out loud and clear. “Not only do we understand but we heartily embrace the challenge.”
“Then this meeting is adjourned until the end of Michaelmas Term.” Grimwinkle banged the cursed gavel louder than ever.
Bram flinched, gut twisting. How in the world was he going to find the remains of a settlement that more than likely never existed ... all while keeping his uncle’s increasing bouts of senility a secret?
3
A lot could happen in three days. Or not. No golden-egg-laying goose had waddled through Eva’s front door, nor had some long-lost relative gone to glory and left her with a sizeable inheritance. Worse, the numbers in the ledger still refused to yield anything but a warning—and a dire one at that, with the added fifty pounds she must raise by mid-December. Hence, the sole reason she stood in the drawing room this morning with a sharp-nosed widow circling her mother’s beloved writing desk. Mrs. Muggins had been dissecting the antique bureau for the better part of half an hour now with nothing better to say about it than an occasional flat-lippedhumph.
Eva smoothed imaginary creases from her skirts, giving her something to do other than bite her nails while waiting. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed after such diligent examination, Mrs. Muggins, you’ll not find a writing desk of higher quality at such a fair price as this one.”
The woman humphed again while rubbing her thumb furiously on one corner. “I cannot abide blemishes.”
