The Soldier Son Trilogy Bundle Read online

  “I said blindly, not stupidly, Rory. I don’t think it’s stupid for us and for our fathers to give loyalty to a man who benefited us greatly. But we should not be blind to what he gains by it, nor to what it does to others. Did none of your fathers ever discuss politics with you? When we take our history lessons, do any of you listen? We are to be officers and gentlemen when our schooling is done. Loyalty is fine, but it is even better when it is backed up with intellect. My dog is loyal to me, and if I sicced him on a bear, he would go with no questioning of whether I knew what was best for him. But we are not dogs, and though I believe a soldier must go where he is ordered and do as he is told, I do not think he must march forth in ignorance of what propels his commander’s decisions.”

  Caleb had never been especially quick-witted, and that day he decided that Gord’s words had insulted him. He came to his feet and loomed over the table. His long, skinny frame made it difficult for him to look threatening, but he knotted his fist and said, “Are you saying my father is ignorant just because he didn’t talk politics at me? Take it back!”

  Gord did not stand up but he didn’t back down. He leaned back in his chair as if to disarm Caleb’s aggression, but spoke firmly. “I can’t take it back, Caleb, for that isn’t what I said! I was speaking in generalities. We all came here, I hope, knowing that our first year is a winnowing process. We expected to be hazed and to have strict teachers and boring food and a burden of assignments and marching and tasks that no sane man would ever make his daily regimen. Yet we undertake it, knowing full well, I trust, that they deliberately make it more difficult and stressful than it needs to be. They are hoping that the weak and even the not-very-determined will be dissuaded by the process and turn away. Better to cull them out now than to have a battle whittle them away, with other men losing their lives in the process! So we do obey, but we do not obey blindly. That is what I am saying. That we endure what we endure here because we know the reason for it. And when I am a cavalla officer in the field, I expect that I will do the same there. I will obey my commander’s orders, but I hope I will remain intelligent enough to discern the reasons behind my orders.”

  He looked round at us all. Despite ourselves, we were hanging on his words. He nodded, as if in appreciation of that, and went on, almost as if he were lecturing us, “And thus we come back to Oron’s question: what makes the old nobility first-years dislike us so much if we are all cadets here? And the answer is, they are taught to. Just as we are subtly schooled to resent them. It probably began as a way to wring the best out of us, just as they encourage each house and troop to compete against their fellows. But the politics of our fathers have infected it now, and made it something uglier.”

  “But why? Why does someone want us to hate each other?” Oron clasped his cheeks and practically wailed the words.

  Gord gritted his teeth for a moment and then sighed. “I didn’t say that anyone had deliberately set us against each other in a serious way. I am saying that what the Academy began as healthy competition between us has changed to something more ominous because of the political situation in the streets. That it may even be getting out of control within our walls, becoming something far more vicious than our superiors ever intended. It is in the king’s best interest to have his cavalla officers enjoy solid camaraderie. It is certainly in the cavalla’s best interest, and hence the Academy’s. But there will still be some, old nobles and new, who think we should despise each other because our fathers voted against each other in the Council of Lords. And if someone deliberately wanted to damage the power of the new nobles, if someone wanted to find a way to weaken our father’s alliance, they’d find a way to turn us against each other. That hasn’t happened yet, but it will be very interesting to see what pressures are applied to us. That is all I’m saying.”

  “Oh, that was so enlightening,” Trist said. He had been silent up until then, though I had twice seen him roll his eyes during Gord’s discourse. “Do you honestly think there’s a man in this room who hasn’t already seen what is going on and given thought to it?”

  Instantly it seemed that every cadet at the table was nodding, though I seriously doubted that any of us had pondered it through as Gord had.

  “Not all of us must take a beating before we understand what the currents are in the Academy,” Trist added, somehow making it seem Gord’s own fault that he had been attacked.

  I took a deep breath to say my piece on that, but closed my lips as I heard a too-familiar voice say, “Perhaps you shouldn’t blame a beating on politics. Some of your fellow cadets think having a pig in their midst is bad for the Academy.”

  I wondered how long Caulder had been standing out of sight beside the door before he chose to enter.

  “What do you want here?” Spink asked him waspishly.

  Caulder smiled nastily. “You, actually. Not that I want you; quite the contrary! But for some reason my father wishes to see you. Immediately. You are to report to him at his office in the administration building.” His gaze slid from Spink to Trist. I thought I saw a shadow of pain in his eyes, and he sounded almost like a scorned lover as he said, “Still laughing over your fine jest on me, Trist? How stupid of me to trust someone like you and think you might want my friendship.”

  Trist should have been an actor, not a soldier. He looked puzzled. “A jest between us, Caulder? I don’t recall one.”

  “You poisoned me. With chewing tobacco. You knew very well how sick it would make me. Doubtless you all sat up here laughing about it afterward.”

  We had. I tried not to look guilty. Trist made it seem effortless. He opened his hands as if to show he had no weapons. “How could I, Caulder? You might recall that I was with you. I walked you home afterward.”

  “You made me puke on purpose. In front of everyone. To mock me.” Caulder’s voice was very tight, and I felt a small twinge of sympathy. He yearned so badly to be wrong about Trist.

  Trist looked mildly wounded. “Caulder, I’ve told you this already. I have never seen anyone get as sick as you did from a simple plug of tobacco. Where I come from, mere children are known to nibble a bit, and suffer no bad consequences. Truth to tell, it’s supposed to have medicinal values. I once saw my mother give some to my little sister. For colic.”

  Did some subtle cue pass between Trist and Oron? The redheaded cadet chimed in with, “I cannot understand it, either. I’ve chewed tobacco since I was eight, with no ill effects.”

  “Cadet Jaris told me that chewing tobacco makes nearly everyone sick the first time it is tried. He said you deliberately made me sick, and that it served me right for trusting a new noble’s son. He said you did it to mock me. And he, and the others with him, laughed at me.” Caulder fought to keep his voice steady as he spoke. In the silence that followed his words, he stood very still, obviously divided. I could see the boy wanting Trist to be upright and sincere in his offer of friendship. I felt sad for him, so young and so needy, and yet I also felt vindictively satisfied to see him mistreated. I was certain he had been involved in Tiber’s and Gord’s beatings. He was treacherous, and as the Writ says, the treacherous one earns only treachery from his fellows.

  Trust spread his hands helplessly. “What can I say to you, Caulder? I myself will not speak ill of a fellow cadet and cavalla man, so I cannot make you see that perhaps others would lie and slander to make you mistrust me. All I can say is, quite sincerely, I am sorry that something I gave you made you so ill. And here is my hand on that.” And the golden cadet stepped forward, hand outstretched to the lad.

  Caulder looked as if the sun had suddenly risen just for him. He stepped forward eagerly to clasp Trist’s hand, even as Spink muttered disgustedly, “May the good god witness all you do.” It’s a saying my father once called as much a curse as a blessing, for few of us would willingly call the good god to witness all we do every day. I wasn’t sure if Caulder even heard what Spink said, for he turned a quick snarl at him, saying, “My father does not like to be kept waiting!”


  I saw Spink struggle not to respond to that, and win. He stood, closing his books and tidying his space. “It seems odd for the commander to still be in his office at this hour,” I observed, and Caulder looked nearly triumphant as he said, “For matters of discipline, where else would he meet with the cadet in question?”

  “Discipline?” Spink looked alarmed, as well he might. To be called directly to the commander’s office for discipline, after class hours, bespoke an extreme violation of Academy rules, one that might well lead to suspension or dismissal.

  Caulder smiled sweetly. “Of course, I know nothing of what it is all about,” he said in a sugary voice that implied exactly the opposite. He glanced out the window. “I do suggest you hurry, however.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” I asked Spink. Curiosity and dread were devouring me.

  “He could hold your hand,” Caulder suggested slyly.

  “I’ll be back soon enough,” Spink said with a venomous glance at the boy. He went for his greatcoat, and moments later disappeared down the stairs.

  “Did he finish his math before he went?” Gord asked me quietly. Spink’s understanding of the theory was as good as any cadet’s, but his weakness in calculations still undermined his marks.

  “I don’t know,” I replied.

  “We’ve section tests next Fiveday,” Gord commented, and I groaned, for I had pushed that dread to the back of my mind. Section tests meant that we’d be tested in every one of our subjects, and our marks posted to our records. We’d weathered one section test so far that year. I had not done as well as I had expected, but then, no one had. This time I intended to be better prepared.

  “Well, all we can do is the best we can do,” I muttered philosophically. I opened my math book again.

  “And you new noble sons had best do well at your sections!” Caulder interjected. I hadn’t even been aware he was still there.

  “We expect to,” Gord returned mildly.

  “Why must we do well?” Trist asked suddenly.

  The boy smiled at Trist. “No one is supposed to know,” he said. He glanced around the room, pleased with our suddenly rapt attention. Even Caleb looked up from his latest Dreadful Crimes folio. Caulder licked his narrow lips and added almost in a whisper, “But you could say a lot of futures may depend on the posting of the final grades for the half year.”

  “Will the commander do a culling?” Rory asked bluntly.

  Caulder raised one eyebrow. “Perhaps. But you didn’t hear it from me.” And with that chill remark, he turned to leave the room. Both Oron and Rory shot desperate looks at Trist.

  “Hold up, Caulder!” Trist jumped to his feet. “I was just going out for a bit of air. Perhaps I’ll walk a ways with you.”

  “If you wish,” the boy acceded smugly, and waited for Trist to join him. After we had heard their boots descend the stairs, Rory spoke. “I don’t like the sound of that. I warned you fellers about cullings before, just like my cousin warned me. They had an exceptionally large class the year he came into the Academy. The commander that year did three cullings. He’d choose a test or an exercise of some kind, without any advance notice to the cadets, and those who fell below a certain score were simply dismissed.”

  “That’s brutal,” gasped Oron, and the rest of us nodded grimly.

  “It is. But the commander then said that it was as fair as an ambush; that those who were always ready and alert survived, and those who were lax did not.”

  I was suddenly reminded of Sergeant Duril’s rocks. I didn’t like the idea of a sudden culling, but the commander was right. It was fair in the same way that battle odds were fair. I scowled. I still hadn’t found the rock I’d kept on my shelf. It was a minor thing, but it irritated me.

  I shook it from my thoughts and opened my math book again. I had been solid on the lesson; now I resolved to be absolutely in command of it. At the table, other cadets were doing the same. Gord sat silent, staring straight ahead. When he noticed me looking at him, he said quietly, “I hope Spink gets back soon.”

  I nodded. Spink had passed his last section test, but not by much. I breathed a silent prayer to the good god that Spink’s efforts at study would be rewarded, and then hastily added myself to that petition as well. I bent my head over my books and tried to concentrate.

  I looked up immediately when I heard boot steps on the stairs. Trist came in. His cheeks and forehead were red with cold from the outside, but his mouth was pinched white with fury. He looked round at us and seemed to be strangling on his news.

  “So? What did you find out? Did he tell you anything?” Oron demanded of him.

  “It’s not fair! It’s not fair at all, and there’s no reason for it!” Trist spoke through gritted teeth. He walked over to our hearth and stood with his back to us, warming his hands.

  “What is it?” Rory demanded.

  “It’s not just an individual culling!” Trist turned back to face us. “It’s going to be based on averaged patrol scores. Lowest patrol is out. One man with a bad test score could lose the Academy for his entire patrol.

  “But why?” The cry burst from several of us.

  Trist tore off his gloves and slapped them down on the table. “Because the Academy overspent on horses and costs must be cut. So the colonel is looking for a way to get rid of some of our class. That’s what I think. Caulder gave me some lofty speech about how each patrol should lift individuals to a higher standard, and if we haven’t done that by now with our weaker members, then we never will as troopers.”

  Rory knit his brow. “That’s something like what Colonel Stiet said in that first speech he gave us at the beginning of the year. But I thought it was just inspirational, not that he’d actually hold us to it.”

  Oron looked around wildly. “This means that no matter how well I do, no matter how hard I’ve studied, any one of you could bring me down tomorrow. I could be dismissed from the King’s Academy for something I had absolutely no control over.”

  “Spink.” Caleb spoke the name like a curse. “Spink could do us all in. Where is he, anyway? Why isn’t he here and studying, like he should be? Doesn’t he care at all?”

  “He was summoned to the colonel’s office. Don’t you remember?” I spoke the words dully. It came to me that alone of us all, Gord had acted on the colonel’s words from our welcoming speech. He had tried to lift Spink’s mathematical capabilities up to match his own. And then, in a wash of near despair, I thought of what else Gord had just said: that if anyone truly conspired to weaken the new nobles in the King’s Council of Lords, he would find a way to turn us against each other. If Spink’s failure sent all of us home, with the only future option of enlisting as common soldiers, how would our fathers feel about one another? Whom would they blame?

  “Well, he’d best get back soon! I don’t want my career ended because some frontier lad didn’t know what eight times six was. You’d best drill him well, Gord, or it’s the end for all of us!” This was Rory.

  “We’re counting on you. Make sure he passes,” Trist added in a tone I didn’t like.

  Gord lifted his head and looked at him steadily. “I’ll do all I can, in that I’ll offer him as much help studying as we both have time for.”

  He lowered his eyes to his books again. After a moment the silence in the room passed back to the normal shuffling of papers and scrubbing out of mistakes. Trist went to his room and came back with his own books. We made room for him at the table. He asked to borrow Oron’s grammar book to look up a Varnian verb. He did so, and jotted it down. Trist didn’t look up from his own work as he quietly observed to Gord, “You always sit next to Spink in math class. And he’s left-handed.”

  Every head at the table lifted. I looked at Trist in disbelief. “Are you suggesting they should cheat? That Gord should let Spink copy off his test?”

  Trist didn’t look up at any of us. “Gord corrects all his work every night before Spink turns it in the next day. How is that so different?”

/>   Gord strangled for a moment, then said tightly, “I’m not a cheater and neither is Spink. I tell him when he has the answer wrong, and show him what he did wrong. He still has to rework all the calculations himself.”

  Trist’s voice was very calm. “So if he could see your answers, and if he had time, he might be able to go back to the ones that didn’t match his and rework them for the correct answer. That’s not cheating. It’s just, well, checking facts. Confirming calculations.”

  “I won’t. I won’t suggest it to Spink and I won’t enable him to do it. I won’t break the Academy honor vow.” Gord’s voice grated low and furious.

  “The Academy honor vow also says that every cadet will do all he can to help every other cadet succeed. And your little quibble about letting Spink check his answers off your paper might end the career of everyone in this room. I’d say that’s breaking the honor vow in a major way.”

  “You’re twisting things,” Gord replied, but he did not seem as certain as he had with his earlier responses.

  “No. I think this is a test they’re giving us. To see how well we hang together and protect our own. I think Caulder knowing about the culling is a fair sign that others will know, too. I think it’s a rumor that was meant to get out. To see how resourceful we’ll be about protecting our fellows.”

  Trist made it seem so plausible. I glanced around at the others, and found in their eyes mostly acceptance of Trist’s reasoning. Natred seemed to share my doubt and there were furrows between Rory’s eyes, but the rest of them were nodding. I looked at Gord. He was not meeting anyone’s eyes. Instead, he began to stack his books. He gathered them in his arms without a word and rose to leave the table.

  “We’re counting on you, Gord. Everyone’s career is at stake here!” Oron called after him. His tone was the friendliest I’d ever heard him use to the fat cadet. Gord made no response.