Shaman's Crossing
Silently I blessed Natred. He had so quickly and clearly seen how best to sway Spink to courage. What he would not do for himself, he would do for his father’s honor and Epiny’s good name. I could almost hear him thinking. He walked to his bed and I heard him undress in the dark. Just as I was giving up on him and sliding off into sleep, Spink spoke again. “I’ll try,” he said. “I’ll try.”
CHAPTER 19
Intervention
All of us studied harder, but some of us had our own particular demons to wrestle. Rory’s was Varnian grammar. Natred and Kort worked endlessly on drafting. Mine was Captain Infal’s military history class. He’d spent the last two weeks on sea battles from King Jurew’s War. I failed to see how sea tactics and strategy applied to cavalry officers, and had a hard time keeping the names of the various captains and the military capabilities of their various ships fixed in my head. Now I reread my notes, desperately trying to memorize every stage of each battle. I was furious with the instructor, certain that I’d never use any of this knowledge that I so painfully pounded into my memory.
And Spink struggled with his math. It was awful to watch him. There was a safety lamp that was kept burning in the stairwell at all times, even after lights-out. In the ferocity of his drive to find more hours to study, Spink would furtively creep out on the landing with a chair and stand on top of it to bring his book close enough to the dim lantern to continue studying the equations and how they were manipulated. In the mornings he rose with bloodshot eyes and a sagging face to begin the day.
Spink lifted his head to stare at Trist and said quietly, “I don’t cheat. Not for anyone.” Then he had turned his gaze back to his books. He had not looked up again after that, not even when Trist shoved his chair back from the table and stamped out of the room.
If the culling had been all we had to worry about, that would have been enough. But for Spink and me, there were other concerns. The day after Spink was put on probation, there was no letter from my uncle. I had written to him of Spink’s situation, and posted the letter that same day. The first missed letter worried me, but I persuaded myself that he just needed time to think. The second day with no response conveyed a chill message to me: he blamed me for bringing Spink into his home. What would he write to my father about it? I tried to put a brave face on it for Spink, saying that perhaps his letter to me was delayed, or that he had not yet received mine that explained everything. Spink didn’t believe it any more than I did. It was not reassuring when that evening, just when I most wanted to study for the exams I’d face the next day, I was summoned to the commander’s office.
Caulder admitted me and walked me silently to the door of his father’s office. He met my gaze with a smirk I hated. I did not thank him for opening the door for me. I did notice that when it closed it did not latch behind me. I walked forward, saluted, and then waited, ever mindful that Caulder’s ear was most likely pressed to the door crack.
Colonel Stiet sat behind his desk. My Uncle Sefert sat in a comfortable chair to one side of it, looking anything but comfortable. Colonel Stiet spoke to me. “Your uncle is concerned that you have not written to him lately. Have you anything to say for yourself, Cadet Burvelle?” Clearly Colonel Stiet regarded this as a trivial and annoying complaint. I could almost hear him thinking of his home and lady waiting for him. I kept my eyes on him as I replied.