The Cadet of Tildor

  Her face carefully void of her thoughts, Renee suggested they return to campus. Savoy’s company kindled too great a disgrace to bear.

  CHAPTER 19

  Two days after Renee’s night at Rock Lake, winter’s full force slammed into Atham. Renee hid her bruises under heavy woolen tunics while she marooned herself in her quarters, burying her face in books when friends approached, and staring at the wall when alone. The Seventh left within the week, hurrying to ride out before the snow. She didn’t come out to wish them farewell. When Savoy addressed her in class, she held his gaze but bowed in silence. On the heels of Alec’s secret and Savoy’s humiliating idea of discipline, Renee’s mind pleaded for respite. Instead, it had life-altering exams to look forward to.

  After a week of concerned glances and increasingly frustrated inquiries, Alec took action. “Renee,” he called, jogging down the barracks corridor to catch up. Uninvited, he followed her into her room and pulled the door closed.

  Renee tensed, then reached into her desk drawer for ink. Seaborn still wanted a paper. Twenty journal pages due a week post practical exams. She needed to find a topic. And materials. The library, she should go there. “I—”

  Taking the ink from her hand, Alec set it aside and took hold of her shoulders. He held on until Renee lifted her face to meet his gaze. “Whatever it is, I will not ask,” he said softly. “Neither will Sasha. All right?”

  Renee’s mouth went dry. She drew her breath for another denial, but Alec’s eyes said none was necessary.

  She pressed her forehead into his shoulder. It helped.

  * * *

  A few weeks later and with exams just six days away, the Board of Inquiry finally made its Queen’s Day rulings. Returning to their room that evening, Sasha sat herself in front of Renee, who looked up from her push-up set by way of greeting.

  “The board just issued Savoy a letter of censure.” Sasha crossed her arms. “I heard all the evidence. They should have cleared him weeks ago, but Fisker kept pressing.”

  Renee suppressed a twinge of perverted satisfaction. The letter would slap Savoy’s pride. It was unjust, of course, but in the colossal balance of pride infringement, it was somehow fair. If Fisker was hells bent on destroying Savoy’s career in vengeance for childhood pranks, it was the men’s problem. Her own career might face the gallows in a week. She had to focus on that.

  “I think there’s a history with those two.” Sasha tipped her face to the ceiling. “It doesn’t make sense otherwise. You’d think Savoy was a Viper or Family man, the way Fisker went after him.”

  Renee dusted her hands. They had a history all right, and Sasha knew it—she just didn’t know that she knew. “They don’t like each other.” Renee shrugged, trying to evict Savoy from her thoughts, and lowered herself for more push-ups. “The captain in the Palace Guard thought Savoy had something to do with Fisker losing his finger.”

  For a moment, Sasha seemed as if she’d press the question, but then her brows twitched and she did not.

  In the days to follow, exam anxiety loomed over all cadets—fighters and magistrates alike. For fighters, the midyear academic evaluation traditionally paled in comparison to the physical. That ratio would be reversed during end-of-year tests. At the moment, the end of year felt decades away, and so Renee disappeared into strength training. Only Diam and other young pages, who had taken to climbing the barracks’ rooftop to launch snowballs at passersby, seemed immune.

  “Get back to bed,” Sasha scolded, waking during Renee’s undesired vigil the night before judgment day. Fruitless advice. One student would be dismissed the next day, and Renee had more riding on the exam marks than did her classmates.

  At breakfast, Alec forced two rolls and a slice of cheese into her mouth. “You’ll see these again when I throw up,” she warned him.

  He only grinned. “I’d hate to see you forgo tradition,” he said, shouldering his bag as they started back to her room to collect her equipment. “I think you’ve threatened to sick-up before every exam. And then passed.”

  They found her door unlocked. Renee pushed the handle and felt her hand curl into a fist. “What are you doing in here?”

  Tanil jerked and turned toward her. “You startled me,” he said, color creeping back into his pale face.

  “How did you get in?”

  He squinted at her. “Turned the handle, same as you. Didn’t you leave the door open on purpose?” Digging into his coat, the boy pulled out a key and flicked it to her. “I found it on the ground and didn’t wish you in trouble. Sorry. My mistake.” Without waiting for a reply, Tanil turned on his heels and left the room. The door slammed in his wake.

  Renee compared the new key to the copy she and Alec made on the first day of classes. “Looks worn.” She surveyed the room for evidence of sabotage. “I think it really is the original. How long you think he’s had it?”

  “Long enough to do this.” Alec held up her dress coat, freshly decorated with mud smears. “Do you have another?”

  “No.” She ground her teeth. With no time for cleaning, a dress shirt alone would have to suffice. Cold but still proper. She rubbed her arms and regretted it. They were tender still. Shaking her head, she grabbed her equipment bag and hurried to the training hall.

  The salle had undergone its biannual morph. Several rows of benches appeared by the door at the west end of the room. A judges’ dais draped with black and blue covers dominated the east end. Renee’s gaze flowed over the ground, raked flat and neat. Several years ago a cadet ripped his knee after tripping on a clump of sand.

  A cluster of junior students buzzed around a long wooden table, arranging mugs of water. Healer Grovener, immaculate as always, settled into his designated chair, drilling the examinees with a critical gaze. Tradition mandated disqualification to any student the Healer’s hand touched.

  “We have little time.” Alec steered Renee toward the far benches.

  She followed his lead, pulling pads from her bag and fitting them on. They looked odd. When she realized why, every muscle in her body tensed. The laces of her gear were all severed.

  CHAPTER 20

  Renee checked one useless piece of padded armor after another. Panic and disbelief made her hands tremble. Her gaze scoured the room for something she could use. Spare gear. The salle usually housed crates of old, but mostly serviceable, items.

  “Where did the common pads go?” she asked, unable to find the stash.

  “We moved everything out to the stable,” a junior cadet volunteered in a cheery tone. “To give you more room.”

  Alec shot her a questioning look. His eyes widened when he saw the damage. “We run to the stable,” he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her to the door.

  They made it halfway to the exit before the bell sounded, ordering everyone to their place. Verin entered the salle and strode to the dais like a king ascending his throne. An elaborate blue and black velvet cloak trailed behind him, basking in its own dignity. Savoy and another Servant whom Renee didn’t know followed at the headmaster’s heels.

  Renee lined up with the others in front of the judges and watched in fear while Verin took out a roster and began to call roll. No title but “Cadet” preceded the name of each student, noble or not—another reminder that Servants of the Crown made up a class of their own. When “Cadet Renee de Winter” sounded, she knelt on one knee.

  “Did you develop a craving for broken bones, de Winter?” Savoy’s voice cut through the room.

  “Equipment failure, sir. May I get spares?”

  “Inspecting gear is your responsibility. The battle started—make do with what you brought.”

  She met his cold eyes with ice of her own. Verin continued reading roll. Once the entire class knelt in front of the judges, he nodded to Savoy.

  “On your feet,” their instructor called, wasting no tim
e on speeches. He ordered two students to the front, and all scrambled to obey.

  Renee rubbed her arms for warmth and glared at Tanil.

  He smiled, bowing to her. He could not see Alec coming up behind him until the larger boy had his wrist folded in two.

  Tanil rose on his toes but wisely kept his mouth shut. A fight would disqualify him alongside Alec. Renee shook her head to prevent further damage for her friend’s sake and forced her balled-up hands to open. Most likely the cadets would be paired by size; she’d deal with the weasel in the ring.

  The first bout ended and Savoy called out new names. Renee’s muscles twitched expectantly each time he spoke. During her classmates’ fights, she shivered. Between them, she held her breath. At last Savoy cleared his throat and turned in her direction. Bile bit Renee and she rose to answer the call she knew was coming.

  “Cadet Alec Takay,” Savoy said, motioning him to take a spot in mid ring.

  Renee sank back down.

  She had just pulled herself together enough to congratulate Alec on a clean victory, when her own name sounded across the salle. Cold gripped her face. It was time.

  “Fighters enter the Service of the Crown by the sword,” Verin intoned the ritual words for the sixth time that day as Renee and Tanil faced each other across the sand. “The Crown seeks not good fighters; it seeks the best. May your skill prove your worth.”

  “Salute!” Savoy called on the heels of the declaration. His voice held the steel of war. “Ready blades!”

  Renee brought the practice blade forward, raising the tip to eye level and the bevel at the height of her navel. Across the sand, Tanil did the same.

  “Fight!”

  They moved, circling each other like hungry animals. He swung first, wild and hard. She blocked the blow before it could shatter her. In her side vision, she saw blue mage light dance around Grovener’s hand. The Healer’s certainty that his services would be needed did nothing to boost her confidence.

  Her attack thumped Tanil’s chest-pad but failed to wipe the grin off his face. She was stronger than before, yes—but still not strong enough to hurt him through the pads. Any points she scored would be irrelevant if he disqualified her. As if to underline the thought, a missed parry opened her ribs to a strike. Burning pain shot across her chest. Her breath faltered. Panic returned. She had no options. If she attacked, she left herself vulnerable to crippling strikes. If she stayed defensive and, by miracle, blocked every blow, she’d lose on points.

  His blade cracked against her sword arm. It went numb. The blade streaked toward her head next, a full swing of polished wood intent on cracking her skull. Tanil’s nostrils flared with heavy breaths. His fevered eyes glimmered with full intent to follow through with the blow. Her life rested on the parry. She locked weapons shaft to shaft with the boy’s. Her muscles cramped from the strain, and she was forced to kick his middle to win distance. He growled, but she couldn’t spare the energy for a reply.

  “How long do we let this continue?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

  “Until she gives up,” Verin answered, with no hint of emotion.

  Savoy said nothing.

  No, she wasn’t quitting. And she wasn’t dying. But what was she doing? Sweat dripped from her hair and stung her eyes. Blinded, she reached up to wipe them, and Tanil rapped her bruised triceps. She muffled a cry and sidestepped the next attack. She shook out her arm. It wasn’t broken, she realized. It wasn’t disabled. It stung. Nothing more, nothing less.

  “You don’t hit hard,” she said, surprising herself with the sincerity of the statement. She survived Savoy’s blows. Tanil’s were unworthy of the comparison. All she really needed to do was protect her head and move. What did it matter that the boys preferred to break bones and sever heads, when a nick of the artery like Savoy had taught her killed just as well? The realization rushed through her like a sharp wave clearing debris from a dammed stream. She didn’t need to prove herself as good as the boys. She needed to prove she could kill them.

  Renee relaxed her muscles. Tanil thought he’d beat her into submission? Well, he was welcome to his delusions. Exhaling, Renee switched her grip to that of her morning exercises. Her sword flowed around the boy’s blade, carving soft lines across his wrists and chest. Tanil’s increasingly frantic movements voiced his bewilderment. She fed off his desperation and grew calmer, surer with each of his wild strikes. It’s a sword, not a tree trunk, oaf. Her tip gently sliced his neck.

  “Gods,” someone muttered. “She’s killed him five times over.”

  “No,” Savoy replied, and raised his voice. “Quit fooling around and finish it, de Winter.”

  What more did he want? Renee swallowed. In front of her, Tanil cocked his sword and swung. She pivoted from his blade’s grandiose arc and waited, letting him lose his own balance. Now she danced inside. With another pivot she circled to his back and, from behind, laid her sword across his windpipe. She felt her blade press into the delicate cartilage and knew with sickening certainty that should she pull, her dull wood would crush it forever, like an egg.

  “Stop.” His whisper came fast and desperate. “I yield.”

  She lowered her blade and shoved him away to face the judges, to whom he had to declare his intention.

  “Sirs.” He took a breath, his blade lowering to the ground. “I—” He spun, bringing his blade around to crack Renee’s unprotected head.

  The sounds of the world dimmed and returned. She swayed on her feet. Something wet trickled down into her collar.

  “Sirs, I claim victory,” said Tanil’s voice.

  “No yield.” Renee heard her own voice reply. Her arms brought up her sword and she hoped they knew what to do with it.

  “The cadet may not continue,” said Healer Grovener.

  Blue mage flame touched her shoulder and Cadet Renee de Winter was disqualified.

  CHAPTER 21

  The salle’s sand saw more bouts. Renee watched them through a blur of shock and ache. She was done. Finished. Disqualified. One cadet had to be cut and it would be her. The Academy, Alec, Sasha—they were her home, and in a day’s time she’d be alone. She had been granted a chance, a second family in place of the one that had been taken. Now it was over.

  The last fight ended. The cadets dropped to their knees once more. Renee was grateful Healer Grovener permitted her to do as much, although her stomach fell as she knelt beside Alec for the last time. He reached out to grip her hand, offering a silent comfort.

  Verin picked up a folded sheet of paper and showed it to his table mates. The knot of Savoy’s brow suggested the news was neither pleasant nor expected.

  “An anonymous member of this gathering brings allegations of misconduct to the judges’ attention,” Verin announced, pitching his voice over the salle. “This party contends that one or more of today’s examinees appeared here under the influence of the leaf of veesi.” His eyes swept the cadets. “The cowardliness of an anonymous report speaks of the author. It does not, however, discount the message. Before sunset today, all senior cadets will report to Healer Grovener. The judges will withhold the results of today’s examination until appraising the Healer’s report. Dismissed.”

  Disbelief paralyzed her. Renee didn’t even feel Alec’s hand slip out of hers. When her senses returned, he was gone. A herd of students made their way to the exit, and she was the only one left kneeling on the now scuffed and bloodied sand of the salle. At last Renee stood and walked to the door in a daze, but a hand seized her collar before she made it out.

  “We can start with you. Come along,” Grovener said, leaving her no choice but to follow.

  * * *

  Renee managed to find Alec two hours later, sitting atop a boulder on Rock Lake’s shore. She pulled her coat tighter and climbed next to him. The breath misting from his nose curled to the heavy gray sky.

/>   “Just because veesi affects me differently, doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” Alec said without turning. “I took some this morning—I can’t submit to Grovener’s exam.”

  “I’ll kill Tanil.” Renee’s fists tightened. “This reeks of him.”

  Alec nodded, then offered a wan smile, a mix of deep sadness and deeper determination. “At least you will continue. One student gone. It will be me.”

  A shiver ran through her. Alec was right. If he was dismissed, she would remain.

  No. She refused to accept it. The Academy was Alec’s family as much as it was hers. “They’ve caught you before. You got through it.”

  He shook his head. “I was twelve, Renee, and Verin thought he got me before I actually tried any. If Grovener tests me now . . . I have a history and enough of that sewage in my body and in my room that the guard will hold me. Then, well, without the leaf it won’t be long until I slip and the bigger truth comes out and I wind up at the gallows.” He sighed and allowed silence to finish the story.

  A lump formed in Renee’s throat. It wasn’t fair. Alec, who never asked for, never wanted Control, deserved the same rights as everyone else to determine the course of his life. She found no words to say, and no time to search for them either, as desperate barking sounded from below. Peering down, she spotted Khavi clawing at the rock.