Page 31 of The Cadet of Tildor


  Renee frowned at the word choice. “He closed the games?”

  Sasha bit her lip. “No . . . It’s not so simple. Those games—”

  “Hold up Catar’s economy. I know. If they dissolve, economic chaos will rein until the Vipers think up something equally vile to fill the void.”

  Sasha’s eyes widened. “I see my Lys is not the only one who moved beyond seeing the world in white and black. Your thinking is right. The games will go on, but under the Crown’s management.”

  “The fighters?”

  “Volunteers and convicts.”

  Renee nodded. As good a solution as could be made.

  Sasha went on, “Of course, Lord Palan tried to use his presence in Catar to leverage a larger portion of the veesi market for himself, but that’s hardly news. And I understand there is a newly registered boy mage who has provided vital insight into the operation.”

  “Jasper.” Renee made a note to find the boy upon her release. She owed him that much. “What of Commander Savoy and the others?”

  “They trickle back. Savoy and Diam should arrive by morning.” Sasha played with the bedspread and spoke to the floor. “Your lord father is here. He has been waiting to see you.”

  A jolt ran down Renee’s back. She wished to believe that concern brought her father to her bedside, but the conversation with Lord Palan echoed in her head. He had claimed the Family’s innocence in her mother’s death. He even dared imply that her father stood to benefit from the accident. It was ludicrous to weigh the word of a criminal against that of her father, but she was yet to catch Lord Palan in a lie. She scrubbed her hand over her face. “Sasha, do you have a ring I could borrow? The bigger the better.”

  Her face still, Sasha slid a ruby off her finger and laid it on the table beside the bed before leaving. She didn’t ask questions.

  There was little one could do to make an infirmary look dignified, but Renee tried. She pulled the blanket taut over her cot—a tough trick with one arm in a sling—and changed into a pressed set of shirt and britches that Sasha had tossed through the window. The ruby ring and a folded piece of blank parchment lay on the small bedside table. She hoped to need neither.

  Her head throbbed. She leaned against the wall and massaged her temple until a knock brought her to her feet.

  Lord Tamath de Winter wore beaten britches and shirtsleeves instead of his typical formal attire. “The Healer permitted no visitors before today.” He shuffled his feet. “Are you . . . Good gods, Renee, how do you feel?” Crossing the room in a rush, he touched his fingers under her chin. His mustache twitched.

  Renee tensed but stayed still. “I recover well, my lord.”

  He let his hand fall to his side. “I hear the king himself now calls you friend and shares wine?”

  She blushed. “A one-time audience.”

  “Or the first.” He cleared his throat. “I wished to apologize for hasty words spoken without thought. Your home is yours as it has been always.”

  Renee bowed, but the stone in her stomach remained in place. Lord Tamath did not keep the habit of apologizing. “How fare the estates, my lord?”

  He shrugged. “All well. I secured a new contract for wool and goat cheese that will serve us fine.”

  You have not secured it yet, Father. She smiled. “I’m pleased to hear it.”

  He waved his hand in dismissal. “I would not trouble you over it, but my colleague may have forwarded the documents to you by error.”

  And thus the dice settled. Renee was prepared for the wave of disappointment, but was surprised to find it tempered with relief. At least now she understood the game. “If you speak of Lord Palan, there was no error. He gave me the contract for review.” She let her gaze slide to the objects on the table. “Are you aware of his Family ties?”

  Lord Tamath stiffened. “I am. I am also aware that should I fail to honor his demands, I will see grave ills befall the estate.” He reached out toward her. “The last time I refused the Family, your mother and brother paid the price. I fear losing you to the same fate.”

  Renee’s head thumped with each heartbeat. Her father’s words directly contradicted Palan’s. “You do this deal only for protection?”

  “Why else would I deal with a monster who killed my wife and my child?”

  She licked her lips and smiled. “Then I have fortunate news. The contract is here.” She raised her finger to stay his reaching hand. “But Lord Palan needs a great service from me. In return, he is prepared to guarantee that no Family tentacle will ever touch the de Winter estates. They will collect no tribute and offer no menace. Lord Palan offers his ring as a token of guarantee. You can display it to any Family servant and he or she will let you be.”

  Her father’s mustache twitched again.

  Renee gestured to the table. “Which will you take?” She held her breath.

  He reached out and snatched the parchment. “You will understand when you are older,” he said, and started to the door. Then he stopped, one hand on the doorknob. “What is the meaning of this?” Lord Tamath spun, his eyes flashing darkness as he waved the blank parchment in the air. “What did you do with my contract?”

  “What did you do with my mother?”

  His jaw shut with a click.

  Heat gripped her face. She advanced on him. “The Family did not kill her or Riley.”

  He bowed lightly as if conceding a match. “No. The coach crashed in a meaningless accident. I thought having a culprit to blame would ease both our souls.”

  It was plausible. Or maybe Palan’s supposition was right, and Lord Tamath had rigged the accident to gain ownership of his wife’s lands. Renee was beyond taking her father’s words at face value. Fatigue erupted from nowhere and washed over her. She gripped the edge of the table for balance, refusing to sit while her father remained in the room. “I don’t believe I will be returning to your estates, my lord.”

  “My labors on the contract will not be annulled. Where is it?”

  “Destroyed.” The steadiness of Renee’s voice surprised her.

  Lord Tamath turned and left without another word, slamming the door in his wake.

  CHAPTER 46

  Sleep claimed Renee after her father’s visit, eating up the rest of the day and the night. The following morning, she awoke to an argument on the other side of the infirmary wall. She rubbed her face and sat upright, recognizing the voices.

  “I came for Renee,” said Savoy.

  “I little care why you came, boy. Your ribs are broken,” said Grovener.

  A crash of furniture clattering to the floor echoed through the room, and a door banged closed. Renee scrambled from her bed and into her clothes, adjusting her shirt collar just in time to answer a knock.

  Savoy strode in, pulling disheveled hair back into a ponytail. “Still Grovener’s prisoner?”

  She left her sling on the table and wrapped her arms around him.

  “I don’t do hugs.”

  “You need the practice.”

  Chuckling, he laid his hands on her shoulders and pushed away, his body oddly rigid.

  Renee ran the back of her hand down his side, pressing hard against his ribs.

  He tensed and caught her wrist. “Don’t do that.”

  Lifting a brow, Renee twisted free from his grip but said nothing. Her point was made.

  “Unrest brews on the western border.” He moved across the room. “The soldiers the Crown pulled away to attend to Catar return to their posts but their numbers will not suffice. The Devmani Emperor is looking a little too covetously at Tildor’s commerce.”

  Renee perched on the edge of the bed and looked out the window, as if troop movement leagues away could be made out. “War?”

  Savoy shrugged. “Perhaps. The temptation to test a neighboring new king is
hard to resist.”

  Renee rubbed her arms. Fighters moved from post to post, campaign to campaign, greeting and taking leave of friends as often as the wind changed. Even if the gods rooted Savoy to Atham, Renee herself would be gone on her field trial before much longer. “When do you leave?”

  “One week.”

  She hesitated, the words balancing on her tongue. “I’m . . . I’m sorry about your parents.”

  Savoy nodded. “We had little time for each other.” His voice asked her not to press and they shared a silence. He looked up after a few moments, catching her eye. “My family is here,” he said quietly, “as is yours.” He stretched his shoulders. “You’ll have the summer cycle to fulfill your missed schoolwork. Connor volunteered to oversee it.”

  Schoolwork. She wanted to chuckle at the circle life had formed. She cleared her throat instead. “I, ah, I should write to Alec. Did you see him before you left?”

  Savoy’s face was still. “Alec left Catar with some other young mages. Too many Crown’s eyes there now. Zev sent Connor a note.”

  “That can’t be right.” Renee frowned. “No, he would’ve told me. Was there a letter for me with Zev’s . . . ” Seeing Savoy shake his head, Renee focused her gaze at the budding tree branch that swayed outside and pressed her teeth together.

  “Renee!” A human arrow shot through the door. “You’re awake! Wanna see something? Healer Grovener taught me to glow just one finger!” Diam hurried to demonstrate this feat before throwing his arms around her neck.

  “The imp, on the other hand, does do hugs.” Savoy backed away to give his brother room. “She’s all yours.”

  Hugging Diam, Renee watched the closing door and shuffled through her memory. Was it her imagination or had Savoy flinched when his brother approached? She glanced at Diam and knew he’d seen it too. Rubbing her nose, Renee began composing a plea for release from the Healer’s lair. She had things to do.

  Talking her way to freedom took until the following morning. After taking a moment to greet Sasha, her once-again roommate, Renee searched out Savoy. Finding both his quarters and the salle empty, she tried Rock Lake. Spring rains had softened the down-sloped path, making the mud splotch and stick to her shoes. She cleared the trail and squinted from the blinding sun reflecting off the lake.

  “Savoy?” Her voice bounced from the rocks.

  “Yes?”

  She followed his call to a wide alcove, where he lay reclining against a gently sloping stone. Renee lowered herself beside him. “How fair the ribs?”

  “Healing.”

  Healing, not healed. “A sword may find its way into you in the west.”

  He turned his head, his eyes shut against the sun. “You lecture me on the dangers of warfare?”

  “You avoid mages. One of whom is your brother.”

  Savoy rose on his elbows and opened his eyes, his voice low. “This conversation is over.”

  “I was there.” She made herself lie relaxed against the stone but knew the nonchalance fooled neither of them. Her heart raced, threatening to trip her words. “I saw. I know. And I’ll make this easy for you. You go see Grovener, or I will, and I’ll tell him everything. You have until the noon bell two days hence.” With that, Renee swallowed and closed her eyes, unable to meet the fury raging in his.

  When she opened them, Savoy was gone.

  * * *

  “All packed?” Connor asked, trotting Lava beside Kye. They rode down a wide stretch of dirt road, cooling the horses after a run. Back in the Academy, the Seventh took on supplies and readied to ride out.

  Savoy shifted in his saddle. His side ached. “I’m always packed.”

  “And Diam? If you still seek a guardian . . . ” Connor shrugged, silently extending the offer without insisting.

  Savoy stared at the tree line. The decision had to be made, but the right answer continued to elude him. Each melting hour made it more urgent but no clearer. “Be his friend, Connor. He needs one as good as you.”

  Connor nodded. “Of course. Do you plan to ask Verin? I know he’ll agree.”

  “No.” The answer came out sharper than Savoy intended. “I don’t believe Diam’s heart would fit a military life.” Dropping the topic, he navigated Kye into the stable and stiffened at the sight of a velvet-clad fat man who awaited him there. “Lord Palan.”

  “Will you not call me Uncle?”

  “No.”

  “Very well, Lord Korish—stop wincing at the name, it’s yours by birth—will you walk with me?”

  The news of his father’s past still spun Savoy’s head, although it explained some of Lord Palan’s earlier behavior. Now an odd mix of distaste and curiosity made Savoy leave Kye in Connor’s care and fall in step with the man. Lord Palan remained silent until Savoy finally spoke.

  “You’re a criminal,” Savoy said. If the lord expected pleasantries, he was mistaken.

  “The Family traffics contraband, yes,” Palan answered without hesitation. “Master Verin knew as much when he took you on as a foster. He wanted a swordsman and I wanted to secure your future. We struck a bargain.”

  A bargain. With himself as commodity. Savoy ran a hand through his hair. Verin had always been up front about taking Savoy in for his sword arm. Did it matter that there was more to the arrangement? Of course it bloody well mattered. It saved him from becoming Tanil. Savoy looked back at Palan. “You orchestrated the fire in Catar.”

  “Yes.”

  “That was no contraband trafficking, my lord. That was murder. Dozens died.”

  “You, however, escaped.” Lord Palan’s voice flowed honey-smooth, without a hint of agitation or doubt. It was also the controlled, professional tone of a man who stood by his decisions. “But yes, others died. Others who were less important to me. Tell me, have you not killed dozens of enemies? If a man of the Seventh was captured, would you not kill dozens to free him?”

  The man twisted words. “You didn’t attack an enemy; you killed Tildor’s own people.”

  “Ah, but you define enemies by the Crown’s priorities, which, mind you, tend to shift. I define the enemy by my own values. Those people were enemies because their existence threatened you. They were also enemies because they were Vipers, whose business threatens ours.”

  “I serve the Crown. Do you expect me to endorse your views?”

  “Of course not.” Palan held up a hand. “But, despite our disagreement on goals, do consider our similarity in tactics. After all, can you not respect a swordsman who fights for the other side? Can you not learn from each other when you step foot on neutral ground?” He twisted a ring. “Speaking of learning, I hope that when you return to Atham next, you will find time for your cousin.”

  Savoy blinked. “Tanil? I will find a blade for him, my lord.”

  “The flat of one, if you wish. The boy’s discipline does lack.” Palan caught Savoy’s eyes. “But he is your family and he is young. He will not find a path in the Crown’s Service nor in the Family’s leadership, but I hope you will help him find his honor in as much as it is possible.”

  Savoy glared and was still contemplating the words when Lord Palan spoke again.

  “Diam—”

  “You will not have him.”

  “Of course. I only meant to tell you he is heading this way. Ride safely to the west.” The older man smiled, bowed, and walked away.

  Savoy glanced behind him. The boy really was coming. Shaking his head, Savoy started back toward the stable. He’d check on Diam after seeing to Kye. The promise made it to the tip of his tongue when he realized the footsteps had stopped. He turned to find Diam standing several yards away.

  “You saw me and walked the other way.” The boy narrowed his eyes.

  “I was going to brush down Kye. Do you wish to help?”

  “No, you we
ren’t. You were walking away from me. You’ve done it all week.”

  “Diam—” he started to say, but his brother turned and ran. The receding footsteps remained imprinted in the soggy ground, and for many hours, in Savoy’s mind.

  * * *

  The Academy bell tolled noon when Renee approached the Healer’s office to exchange Savoy’s friendship for his well-being. Her feet dragged in the mud. She watched her toes and stumbled when another pair of boots cut across her path.

  “You still intend to carry out your threat?” Savoy crossed his arms over his chest. His voice was cool.

  “Yes.” She pushed around him and walked on.

  “Wait.” Light footsteps caught up to her and a hand touched her shoulder. “We go together.”

  “Have you come to your senses or to destroy more of my furniture?” Healer Grovener peered at Savoy over his glasses. It was the dry, unamused look he granted everyone, but Renee sensed an understanding lurking behind his eyes. He was no fool and, Renee realized, had known Savoy a great deal longer than she.

  “Neither. But I did come to you.” Savoy drew himself up. “For two separate matters, sir.”

  “One is your ribs. What’s the other?”

  “My brother. Would you consider an apprentice?”

  Renee drew a breath and held it as long seconds stretched on before the man replied.

  “What of his page and cadet studies?” Grovener removed his glasses and cleaned them with the hem of his shirt. “A boy cannot answer to two masters.”

  “I will withdraw him from the Academy rolls. He’s years away from registration, and even then your tutelage would fulfill the mandate.”

  Grovener steeped his hands in front of his chest. “You are a fighter, Commander. I will neither teach the boy combat nor arrange for such lessons.”