The Cadet of Tildor (6 page)

Verin gave the boy a severe look. “So that he can sort out whatever mess his student and his brother got themselves into.”

CHAPTER 7

B
rother.
Savoy’s little brother had heard the exchange at Rock Lake and now held Alec’s secret in his eight-year-old hands. Her eyes flickered down to where her fingers wrapped around Diam’s, and she fought off an impulse to jerk away. As if reading her thoughts, the boy squeezed tighter and tugged her toward the instructors’ quarters.

The Savoy who opened the door to room fifteen scarcely resembled Renee’s training master. He panted, sweat dripping from his hair onto bare shoulders and sliding along muscle grooves. His worn-out breeches never belonged to a Servant’s uniform, and the blade resting in his hand voiced a threat so powerful that Renee took a step back before catching herself.

“Ah, M-M-Master Verin ordered us here,” she stammered, justifying their intrusion.

“I see.” Savoy swallowed, catching his breath. He rested his sword against the wall and reached for a discarded shirt. A tangle of long, thin scars crisscrossed his back. He dressed and stood aside, letting them in.

The room was larger than a cadet’s, and seemed even more so owing to the exile of all furniture into a single corner, leaving a clear space in the middle. There were no pictures or mementos. Weapons hung on otherwise bare walls, and smells of oil, leather, and flint filled the air. A travel pack stood beside the door, like a saddled horse awaiting departure.

Savoy cleared his throat, and the events of the past hour rushed back to Renee’s head. Her heart raced. She couldn’t tell Savoy anything, not without sacrificing Alec. What if Diam told? She needed a moment to think. “Did we interrupt your training, sir?” she asked. “Why don’t you practice in the salle?”

“Why don’t you two tell me why you’re dripping all over my floor.”

So much for time to think.

“’Cause we’re wet,” Diam said, and reached for his brother’s sword.

In one smooth motion, Savoy intercepted the intruder and sat him atop the bureau.

The boy muffled a cry of glee, but pleasure danced impishly in his eyes.

“Diam.” Savoy crossed his arms and scowled. Now face-to-face, the brothers startled Renee with their likeness. Although the solid, athletic Savoy dwarfed the skinny, squirmy Diam, the two had matching green eyes and identical stubborn expressions.

The boy fidgeted. “We helped the stable hands water the horses and got into a water fight, and got wet.”

Savoy raked his hand through his brother’s blond curls. “And the sand?”

“I fell on the practice courts when we walked back.”

“You fell. Did de Winter fall too?”

Diam glanced at her. “No, she didn’t fall, but she helped me stand up, so she got all sandy too.”

“Which is why she has sand all over her clothes?” Savoy turned to her before Diam could answer. “All right, de Winter, your turn. And before we continue down the same path, I remind you that I am your commanding officer.”

The warning eliminated the option of lying. “We took an unplanned swim in Rock Lake, sir.”

“Do I wish to know details?”

“Probably not, sir.”

He crossed his arms and stared at her, his green eyes penetrating yet revealing nothing of his thoughts. “Very well.”

She blinked. “That’s all?” The words left her mouth before she realized she was speaking.

“I will not punish you for playing rough or getting wet. Is there a reason why I should give you misery?”

Hearing no sarcasm in his voice, Renee swallowed and dropped her gaze, the deception gnawing at her.

Diam came to the rescue for a second time. “No, no reason. I’m cold!” he declared from his perch atop the bureau and scampered down using the drawers for footholds. Grabbing her hand, he towed her to the door. “Let’s go change!”

A voice stopped them as they headed out. “De Winter.”

She turned, met Savoy’s eyes once more, but said nothing.

He nodded. “See you in class.”

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled, bowing and turning away once more. Savoy’s unexpected laxity unsettled her.

A few hours later, everyone gathered in Sasha and Renee’s room. Khavi vaulted onto Renee’s bed, demanding attention. She ruffled the dog’s fur and found a thin, healing cut in place of what had seemed a vivid gash a few hours back. Alec had done an excellent job sewing the wound.

Sasha crossed her legs and swept the group with a glance. A magistrate to the core. “So, Tanil caught Diam watching a compromising situation and tried to scare him into keeping his mouth shut.” She said the words with small-talk ease that Renee didn’t mistake for nonchalance. “Then you two showed up and he turned to blackmail.”

“Exactly like Tanil to get brave when someone’s too small to fight back.” Renee stuck her hands into her pockets.

Sasha bit her lip. “Lord Palan is of the Family. High up too. What’s his nephew doing talking to Vipers?”

“Gambling.” Alec shook his head and glared at Diam. “You never said you were Savoy’s brother.” The anger in his voice startled Renee. All heads turned to him.

“I didn’t tell on you,” Diam shot back.

“And you, Alec, promised to dump the veesi,” Renee stepped in. “So, worry about yourself right now.”

“If Tanil knew about Savoy, he’d never have started with Diam,” said Alec. “None of this would have happened.”

“And if you’d dumped the veesi like you promised, we could have . . . ” She rubbed her forehead. What was done was done. “You need to get rid of it.”

Silence loomed until Alec lowered his face and swallowed. When he spoke, the words barely broke a whisper. “I can’t.”

“Like hell you can’t. The stuff makes people stop caring. Idiots destroy their lives because nothing concerns them.” She ignored his flinch. “And they destroy other people’s lives in the process.”

He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “You see me stop caring about anything or destroying my life?”

Renee paused. He didn’t show the lethargy and nonchalance of a veesi user. “I see you destroying your career this minute. Correction, I see
it
destroying your career.”

Several moments passed before Alec spoke again. “It has no agenda. You make veesi sound evil.”

“It is.”

“It’s not,” said Sasha, drawing startled looks from both of them.

Renee glared at her roommate. “Taking his side?”

“Taking the facts’ side. Veesi masks pain,” she said simply. “That makes it dangerous, not evil.”

Renee rolled her eyes. Sasha would assign degrees to evilness next, and write an opinion essay on it. “I’m not talking Healers’ salve. Dolts chew the leaves, get high, and dance off to do stupid feats while the Family or Viper coffers gain. It—”

“Veesi doesn’t give you a high,” Alec cut in, the voice of experience. “It relieves emotional pain the same way its salve takes pain from a cut.”

“And your life is oh so painful, right?”

“I heard the guard talkin’ about using it,” said Diam.

Sasha nodded. “The guard uses it to control mages in custody. It inhibits their ability to Control.”

“Does it make them happy?”

“No, it makes them nauseous,” said Alec. “Like chewing something that makes you blind, only worse.”

Diam crinkled his nose. “Mean.”

“How about a guardsman binding a prisoner’s hands?” Sasha said without missing a beat. “You can’t use rawhide strips to bind a mage’s Control, only veesi. It works as punishment too.”

Renee frowned, caught off guard by the turn in the discussion. The last bit of information surprised her. “That’s not right,” she said after mulling it over. “Forcing someone to chew veesi isn’t right.”

Alec ran a hand through his hair and shrugged.

Sasha smiled. “Was it right for Savoy to hit you? That arm looked awful.”

“That’s different!” Renee rubbed her forearm, which tingled on contact. “He was demonstrating a point.”

“Your career relies on your arm. A mage’s career relies on his Control. Doesn’t sound too different to me.”

Renee found no reply.

CHAPTER 8

S
avoy sat on a practice court fence and, seeing Lord Palan waddle toward him, braced himself for a headache. The sight of Diam trotting along the fat man’s side turned annoyance to caution. The lord often appeared like this during Savoy’s own time as a cadet and, despite Palan’s unfailingly courteous manner, the encounters had always left Savoy feeling unsettled, as if he were a pawn in an unknown game.

“Korish!” Diam sprinted forward. “Look what Lord Palan gave me!” Bouncing on his toes, the boy produced a spyglass from his pocket and presented the treasure to Savoy. Sparks of excitement in Diam’s large green eyes threatened to set the wooden fence aflame.

Savoy’s stomach churned. Shooting Lord Palan an angry glare, he squatted to his brother’s eye level. Diam stopped bouncing and tensed.

“You must give it back.”

“No! Why?” The boy’s face grew dark. “It’s a present, isn’t it, Uncle Palan?”

The old sense of a game returned. Savoy’s jaw tightened. “
Lord
Palan, that’s first. Second, Servants don’t take gifts from nobles. Otherwise, we’d be Lord Palan’s Servants and not the Crown’s.” He reached toward his brother, but the boy pulled back. Refusing to look away, Savoy turned up his palm, demanding the sacred object. He received it via projectile. Diam shot him a hate-filled look and stalked off.

Watching the boy’s receding back, Savoy took several breaths before standing up and glowering at Lord Palan.

The older man sighed and patted a handkerchief over his sweaty brow. “He’s eight, Commander. It’s a present, not a bribe. Next time, he simply won’t tell you.”

“Next time, he’ll face Verin.”

“Then don’t tell Verin.” Lord Palan’s tone took on the note of frustration. “Though you never could learn than one.”

“I’m daft. Now, my lord, did your visit have a purpose beyond giving me a headache? If not, I assure you that you’ve accomplished your task.”

Something akin to disappointment flickered across Palan’s face, but a fake smile rushed in to conceal it. “Of course. I only came to check on my nephew. The day seemed right.”

“Tanil is cowardly, but works hard when cornered like a rat in a cage. Anything else?”

There wasn’t, although the encounter left a sour taste in Savoy’s mouth that clung for the rest of the day.

In the evening, after the last of the classes let out and with two hours of daylight left to spare, Savoy retreated into the back woods. The dense forest concealed many trails, clearings, and caves, luring cadets into exploratory voyages. The more courageous trekked farther than they should. At one time, Savoy and Seaborn knew the woods better than its resident squirrels did.

Those were deceiving years, his junior ones at the Academy. With both parents mercenaries, Savoy had spent little time in one place—much less a place with children—before getting bundled off to the Academy. He’d seen more battles by age eight than most cadets did by graduation and, having survived those experiences, knew himself to be both invincible and, despite his smaller size, talented. The only uncertainty was in deducing how to extract the most amusement from his new school while suffering the least punishment and workload. Friends were never intended to be part of the equation. Seaborn just happened.

And he paid for it. They both did.

The grassy alcove where Savoy stopped saw little traffic. The surrounding evergreens, soft ground, and converging trails showed few signs of human intrusion. Kye cantered around the clearing, bucking the air to work off his pent-up energy while Savoy leaned against a tree. The second horse he’d brought, a bay gelding named Lava, showed more interest in grass-chewing than bucking, which was why Savoy chose him.

A birdcall disturbed the silence an hour past the appointed time. Savoy cupped his hands and responded with an identical tune. The poison of last-minute doubt crept through him, questioning the wisdom of opening old wounds. He shook it off. “You’re late.”

“My apologies.” Seaborn entered the clearing. “A conversation detained me. It seems the City Guard found another corn merchant’s body not far from Atham.”

Savoy shrugged. Such things happened, and Seaborn somehow always knew of them.

“The attackers took his corn and left his purse, Korish. The two puncture wounds on his neck are a Viper signature, except I can make little sense of what Vipers may wish with corn.” Seaborn scrubbed his face and leaned against a tree trunk. He was strong and athletic, like the fighter he should have been. “I’m here now, however. Why the secrecy? Please tell me you did not steal that horse.”

“No, I learned that lesson quite well, I believe.” Savoy hesitated. “An idea struck me.”

Seaborn chuckled. “Good gods help me.”

“I brought the gelding for you to ride.”

The mirth faded from Seaborn’s face. “I don’t ride.”

“You did. We did. I’ll teach you. ”

“I’ve seen you teach, Korish. I think I’ll pass on the experience.”

“When did you become the fragile butterfly?” The words escaped before Savoy could stop them. The day two boys learned the limits of their invincibility remained imprinted in his mind, but this was the first time he challenged aloud Connor’s choice to abandon the fighter track.

Seaborn’s look could freeze flame, and Savoy felt a void spreading between them. He’d been a fool to try this. And he’d be a fool to stop. When Connor started to walk away, Savoy blocked the path.

“Move, Korish.” Connor’s voice was dangerously quiet.

Savoy crossed his arms.

“You wish to fight?” Connor met him stare for stare. “You think us fifteen?”

“Think you can take me?”

“No, Korish, I don’t. And I’m all right with that. I have responsibilities that don’t include one-upping you, stealing dessert from the mess hall, or going along with whatever suicidal idea enters your skull.”

“Too busy reading?”

“Grow up, Korish.” He paused. “I did.” Saying nothing further, Seaborn walked around Savoy and left.

Savoy watched his friend disappear down the path, then twisted around and slammed his fist into the nearest tree. He struck again and again, seeing different faces appear in the trunk. Connor’s. Lord Palan’s. His own. That of the idiotic, unknown official who hauled him back to this cursed place.

A snort from behind got his attention. Kye had stopped frolicking and now pawed the ground, ready for battle. Savoy knotted Lava’s reins and sent the gelding toward the stable before vaulting into Kye’s saddle and, heedless of the setting sun, kicked him into a gallop.