The Complete Soldier Son Trilogy: Shaman’s Crossing, Forest Mage, Renegade’s Magic
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The Complete Soldier Son Trilogy: Shaman’s Crossing, Forest Mage, Renegade’s Magic
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Her tone was imperative and she didn’t wait to see if we would obey, but simply walked out of the room. Spink looked at me, and then followed her meekly. I trailed them with less grace. My cousin was embarrassing me. She was certainly old enough to behave as a lady. I wanted Spink to feel welcomed into my gracious and dignified ancestral home rather than assaulted by a spoiled little girl.
She somewhat atoned by leading us to a small room off the pantry where she had fashioned an indoor picnic for us. Dishes of cold food and napkins were set out on a bare kitchen worktable. She helped herself to a cold chicken wing with her fingers and then stood eating it, and we were only too happy to follow her example. There were also a pot of black tea, a loaf of bread, butter, jam, and little vanilla cakes. We ate without ceremony, catching the crumbs in napkins. After our months of Academy fare, the simple food was ambrosia. I had never seen a girl eat like a boy before, biting meat off bones and then wiping the grease from her lips. I had not realized how hungry I was until I started eating. Then I concentrated on it, and let Spink and Epiny do all the talking. She swiftly had the names and ages of all his siblings and a brief history of his life out of him; in short, she learned more about him in that hour than I had in all our months of Academy.
We helped her clear away the evidence of our furtive feast and then she took us out walking in the gardens. The stables were a short stroll from there and I was very pleased to have the chance to show Spink my horse. ‘That is the finest animal I’ve ever seen,’ he told me, his envy plain in his voice as he looked up at Sirlofty’s proud head.
‘And he has the temperament of a kitten,’ Epiny responded, as if my horse were hers. ‘Father told me that he would never go in a side-saddle, but I tried it, and he does. He was a bit surprised at first, but willing and now I’m sure I could ride him anywhere, but Father will not let me. He says I would first have to ask Nevare, and I told him, “How silly! Do you think Nevare will trust him to some stable boy to exercise, someone he has never even met, and then say ‘no’ to his cousin whom he knows, his own flesh and blood?” But Father insisted that I cannot take him out of the ring without your permission, and so I am asking. Nevare, may I ride your horse on the promenades in the park?’
All the while Epiny spoke, Sirlofty was whuffling her shoulder and nudging her to be stroked. She petted him with familiarity and that firm competence that marks a good horseman. Or horsewoman, I thought sourly. She could not have manoeuvred me better and I was certain she had engineered it so. I wanted to forbid her to ride him, but could not say so in front of Spink without appearing selfish and unreasonable. The best I could hedge my permission was by saying, ‘I think we shall leave it up to your father. Sirlofty is a lot of horse for someone your size.’
‘My Celeste actually tops him by a hand, but he is smoother-gaited than my mare. Would you like to see her?’ And with that she left Sirlofty’s stall and took us two doors down to a grey mare with a silky black mane. As Epiny had said, she was taller than Sirlofty, but far more docile. I knew instantly that Sirlofty’s fire was what attracted her, not his smooth gait, but held my tongue as she and Spink were chatting away. Spink had never owned a horse all to himself and had been relieved to know that he would not need to furnish his own mount until the third year. But he did find our little cavalla mounts insipid and his descriptions of the spiritless beast that was his daily mount soon had Epiny choking with laughter.
We left the stables and followed an ornamental walk through a landscaped orchard of miniature trees. It was late in the year and the trees were long bare of fruit or leaves, but Epiny insisted that we see it all. The wind was rising and I could not understand Spink’s enthusiasm for the stroll. Even the statuary looked cold to me, and the ornamental pond was mossy and depressing; the fish hid under a layer of floating weeds and fallen leaves. As we tried in vain to see the ornamental fish in its murky depths, a light rain began to fall. Just as we were abandoning the pond, and I hoped, bound for the house, we were accosted by a small girl in a pinafore and black pigtails. She marched up to Epiny, pointed a skinny finger at her, and admonished her, ‘You are not supposed to be walking around alone with young gentlemen. Mother said so.’
Epiny pointed a finger right back at her and bending slightly at the waist informed her, ‘These are not young gentlemen, Purissa. This one, as you know, is your cousin. You didn’t even say “how do you do” to our cousin Nevare! And this one is a cadet from the Academy. Curtsey to Cadet Kester.’
The little girl obeyed each of Epiny’s commands in turn, quite charmingly and with more maturity than Epiny had shown. ‘It’s a pleasure to see you again, Purissa,’ I told her, and her smile crinkled her nose when I bowed to her.
Epiny was not charmed. ‘Now run along, Purissa. I’m showing them around until dinnertime.’
‘I want to go with you.’
‘No. Run along.’
‘Then I shall tell Mother when she gets back.’
‘And I shall have to tell her that you were trotting about in the gardens alone during the hour when you are supposed to be studying Holy Writ with Bessom Jamis.’
The child did not look the least bit daunted. ‘He fell asleep. He’s snoring and his breath smells like garlic. I had to run away.’
‘And now you have to run right back. If you are wise, you will be there, head bent over your books when he awakes.’
‘His breath makes the whole school room stink!’
I was horrified at both my cousins’ blunt discussion of their tutor. I had never imagined that girls had such discussions among themselves. But despite myself, I was grinning. I tried to smother my smile. Spink had laughed openly and even Epiny looked moved by the child’s plight. She pulled a tiny handkerchief out of her pocket and gave it to her, instructing her, ‘Go to the lavender beds and fill this with leaves. Then sit at your school table and hold it before your nose while you read. It will fend off the garlic.’
‘The lesson today is boring. It is the second chapter of the Dutiful Wife.’
Epiny looked dismayed. ‘That is boring. It is beyond boring. Put your finger in at that spot, but read the Book of Punishment instead. It is all about what happens to people for various sins in the afterlife. It’s very gory and quite amusing, in a horrid sort of way. When Bessom awakes, just flip the book open to where you should be.’ She leaned closer and added in a whisper, ‘You should see what it says will befall wayward and harlotrous daughters.’
Purissa’s face lit up as if she had been promised candy. I felt slightly scandalized, but when I looked at Spink to see how he had reacted to my unruly cousin, he was grinning. He winked at Purissa, adding, ‘I remember that book. The retribution for sons who did not respect their elder brothers as they ought gave me several sleepless nights.’
‘You can watch us play Towsers after dinner if you run off and behave yourself now,’ Epiny offered.
‘No. I want to play, too. Or I won’t leave now.’
Epiny sighed. ‘Perhaps. But only a few games!’
That bribe was enough to tip the balance. Purissa snatched the handkerchief and trotted off toward the lavender beds. As soon as she was out of sight, Epiny turned back to Spink. ‘Shall we continue our tour, Cadet Kester?’ she asked him, sweetly formal.
‘If the lady pleases, then we shall!’ he replied with mock gravity, and bowed. As he straightened, he offered his arm, and she took it, laughing. They walked off down the path together. As I followed, I was beginning to feel a bit annoyed with both of them. Evening was rapidly darkening the sky and the rain was growing stronger. I suddenly recognized what was annoying me. Epiny dressed like a little girl and behaved like one in her lack of restraint and deportment. But there she was, her hand on Spink’s arm as if she were a young woman, taking advantage of Spink’s manners. Perhaps it was harsh of me, but I decided to force her to declare herself one way or the other. I caught up to them and said coolly, ‘Epiny, a young girl like you should really not be accepting escort from a man you’ve only met today. Give me your hand.’
I reached to move her hand from Spink’s arm to mine. I saw her bridle and thought she would resist. Then everything went strange. The moment I touched her arm, skin to skin, my vision doubled. In the most peculiar moment I’d ever experienced in my life, I saw everything around me as foreign. Epiny was not my cousin, but a young woman, unknown to me in every way. Her clothing, her stance, the way she wore her hair, the scent she wore, even her silly hat seemed outlandish and vaguely threatening. I smelled the familiar scents of the rainy garden as exotic perfumes, and Spink looked menacing to me, as if I faced a warrior of unknown skills and customs, who might attack me with no provocation at all. Nothing had changed, and yet everything that was around me had lost every trace of familiarity. I was abruptly a stranger, standing in cold rain, gripping hard the forearm of an unknown and dangerous rival.
And Epiny? Epiny looked at me with eyes that went wide and then wider still. She leaned closer to me, a pin drawn by a magnet, her eyes locked to mine. ‘Who are you?’ she panted as if the words took great effort. I felt something flow between us, as if she tried to force a response from me. I gasped.
‘Nevare. Nevare! Let her go, her hand is turning red! What ails you?’ My friend had raised his voice and was shouting at me, I recognized dimly. Then Spink parted us, not roughly, but not gently either. He knocked my hand from Epiny’s arm, and both of us sprang back from one another, as if we had been straining to break free but only his touch had parted the cord. I let out a shuddering breath and looked aside from them, embarrassed by whatever had just happened.
‘What was that?’ I exclaimed, and did not know whom I asked.
But Epiny answered. ‘That was strange. And more than strange.’ She leaned closer to me, turning her head to gaze up into my averted face. ‘Who are you?’ she repeated her earlier question earnestly and with great passion, as if she did not recognize me at all.
At that moment, a freak bolt of lightning cut across the stormy sky overhead. The brightness flashed the world to white and black, and when it was gone, my eyes held the after-image of Epiny’s stark face staring at me. The thunder that boomed came almost immediately and rattled my bones to the marrow. For an instant, I could neither hear nor see. Then the heavens opened, letting loose a drenching cold downpour and all three of us ran for the shelter of the house.
FIFTEEN (#ulink_d9ed34ed-9902-586c-9cab-664ccf264731)
Séance (#ulink_d9ed34ed-9902-586c-9cab-664ccf264731)
As soon as we reached the house, Epiny excused herself to go change for dinner. Spink and I retired to our rooms. I hung up my damp jacket, cleaned my shoes of garden mud, and used a brush to freshen the cuffs of my trousers. Then, lacking anything else to do until dinner, I decided to explore the schoolroom. I wandered about the space where my father and uncle had taken their lessons, and wondered what it must have been like to grow up in so grand a house. I discovered my father’s initials carved into the edge of one table. Well-worn books shared shelf space with several models of siege engines and a stuffed owl. A rack held fencing foils and sabres. I was sitting at the table, examining one of the siege engines when Spink entered. He looked around the room and crossing to the window, stared out over the grounds of my uncle’s estates. He quietly asked me, ‘Did you think I was being too forward with your cousin, Nevare? If so, I wish to apologize, to you and to her. I did not mean to take advantage of her.’
‘Advantage of her?’ I laughed aloud. ‘Spink, man, if I were trying to protect anyone, it was you! My cousin is taking advantage of your good nature with her outrageous manners. One minute she is tooting a whistle at us like a street performer, and the next she’s claiming your arm to escort her as if she were the Queen herself. No. You’ve given no offence. She is just so odd. Truth to say, she embarrasses me.’
‘Embarrasses you! Nevare, there’s no need for that. I find her oddness, well, charming. I’ve never before met a girl who is so direct, so honest. She puts me at my ease. And so, I thought, perhaps I had become too relaxed with her, to offer to escort her down the path without first asking your permission. I do beg pardon if I presumed too much familiarity.’
‘There is no need, Spink. If anything, she is the one who presumes too much familiarity. She started calling you by your first name almost the moment she met you. I just thought to put Epiny in her place, and show her that if she behaves like a spoiled child, I intend to treat her as one. And now I will offer to beg your pardon, if I offended you with what I said to her.’
‘Me, offended? No, not at all. It was just, well, you acted so strangely for a time. You gripped her arm as if you intended to hurt her, and the way she looked at you, as if she’d never seen you before – I was quite frightened, to tell you the truth. I feared you’d do an injury to one another.’
I was aghast. ‘Spink! You know me well enough, I think, to know that I’d never harm a girl, let alone my own cousin!’
‘I do! Yes, I do, Nevare. It was just that, for a time there, you did not seem like the Nevare I know.’
‘Well … It was odd. For an instant, I didn’t feel like myself at all, either, in all honesty.’
And my admission of that stunned us both into an awkward silence. Spink moved away, looking everywhere except at me. He touched the books on the shelves, the much used school table, and then wandered to the windows. He rested his hands on the sill and looking out into the night asked me, ‘Do you ever wish that you could own a home such as this? With rooms like this for your sons to learn in?’
I was a bit shocked at his words. ‘I never thought of it. I’m a soldier, Spink. All my sons will be soldiers. I’ll teach them what I know, as they grow, and I hope they’ll be bright enough to rise quickly through the ranks. Maybe, if one of them excels, I’ll ask my brother to speak for him and try to have him admitted to the Academy or purchase a commission for him. But, no, I don’t ever expect to own a home like this. When I’m old and can no longer serve my king, I know my brother will make me welcome on his holdings, and he’ll help arrange solid marriages for my daughters. What more could a soldier son ask?’
He turned from his contemplation of the darkening grounds and gave me a rueful smile. ‘You have deeper roots than I, I think. This beautiful home is your ancestral estate and you are still welcomed here. And the way you speak of Widevale makes me think that in a generation or two the house and grounds there will rival this place. But for me, the only home I recall is Bitter Springs.’ He smiled wryly. ‘I love the land there. It’s home. But when your father was given his lordship, he chose lands that bordered the river, arable land and pasture land. Land that could generate the monies to enable him to live like a noble. My mother chose with a different purpose. She chose the land that surrounded the area where my father was killed. His burial site was lost; his troops covered him hastily, for they still feared they might be over-run by the plainsmen and did not want them to have his bones as trophies. So they buried him and hid the grave and we have never been able to discover it. But she knows it is somewhere on the land that she claimed, and says that all we build or do there is memorial to him. But the problem is, the land is not good for much else. You can’t shove a spade into it without hitting a stone, and when you remove that, you find two more stacked under it. You can hunt and you can forage there, but you can’t till a field or even graze sheep. My brother is trying hogs and goats, but they swiftly strip the land and leave only stirred rocks behind them. I do not think they are a good idea; but he is the heir, not I.’
He said this so wistfully that I had to ask, ‘And if the land were yours, to develop as you chose?’ I felt I was tempting him to the sin of ingratitude for order, and yet I could not forbear to pose the question.
He gave a brief, bitter laugh. ‘Stone, Nevare. Stone is what we have. The idea first came to me when one of my father’s soldiers came to retire with us. He looked over our land and asked another fellow if we were growing rocks as a crop or for pleasure. And it came to me then, if stone is what we have, then stone is what we should prosper on. Our house, small and humble as it is, is built all of stone, and the walls between our so-called fields are of stone. I’ve heard that the King’s Road building goes slowly for lack of proper stone. Well, we’ve stone in plenty.’
‘Exporting stone sounds difficult. Are there roads in your region?’
He shrugged. ‘There could be. You asked me for my pipe dream, Nevare, not for the reality. It would take years to bring it to fruition. But my family will be there for generations so why not begin the task now?’
I had made myself uncomfortable with the discussion. All knew that a man’s career was determined by his birth order. To question it was to question the will of the good god himself. All knew the tales of what came of trying to quarrel with your fate. A son must be what he was born to be. My family was strict in the matter. It was true that some of the other noble families were less observant of the law. In one notorious case, when the House Offeri heir son died, Lord Offeri had moved each of his sons up a notch, so that the soldier became the heir, the priest the soldier, and so on. All were failures in their careers. The new ‘heir’ was too militant with the estate serfs, and many of them fled the land, leaving crops to rot in the fields. The priest son did not have the constitution to endure the arduous life of a soldier, and died before he had even faced a battle. The artist forced to become a priest was too creative in his copying of scripture and nearly faced charges of heresy from the archor of his order. And so it went. The story was often told as a warning to any families considering such an extreme measure. I should not be tempting Spink or myself to pretend we would ever be anything but soldiers. I changed the subject.