to his dormitory for him?’
‘You may.’ My father was clearly impressed with the boy’s manners and self-possession, as was I. He held the door for us to pass before him, and then quickly came to show us the way to the colonel’s office. The vestibule of the building was panelled in dark wood, its floor covered with thick grey Antoleran tiles. Our boots rang on their gleaming surface. The boy led us through an arch to an adjutant at a desk in the colonel’s anteroom. He nodded us through at the sight of the boy. The lad paused at his desk and asked, ‘Please look up “Burvelle, Nevare” and arrange to have his trunk taken to his dormitory. His carriage is outside.’ Then the lad advanced to the next door, knocked firmly on the mahogany panel, waited for a response, and then entered to announce us. When the colonel replied that he would see us immediately, the boy came back to usher us into the room, bowed again, and told my father that with his leave he would now go to ascertain that the young man’s trunk was correctly delivered.
‘You may, and my thanks to you,’ my father told him gravely. As he hurried out of the door, Colonel Stiet rose to come around his desk and greet us. His family resemblance to the lad was unmistakable, and my father marked it as well. ‘There goes a youngster that any father could be proud of,’ my father observed.
Stiet replied coolly, ‘He does well enough. Time will be the proof. Good blood and early training; those are my criteria for choosing young men of potential. I’m very pleased to meet you, Lord Keft Burvelle.’
‘And I to meet you, Colonel Stiet. May I introduce my son, Nevare Burvelle?’
I stepped forward and gravely shook hands with the colonel, meeting his gaze as I had been taught. His grasp was warm and dry, but somehow unwelcoming. ‘How do you do, sir?’ I said. He made no reply. I released his hand, bowed slightly and stepped back, feeling uncertain. He spoke to my father.
‘When young Caulder returns, I’ll have him show your son to his dormitory. Sometimes I offer a brief tour of our Academy to the parents of new students, but surely with your history of association with our institution, that would be redundant.’
Something in his tone made me wary. I could not be sure if he was rendering my father an insult or a compliment. I was sure my father was aware of it as well, but he smiled affably and said firmly, ‘Redundant or not, Colonel Stiet, I am sure I would enjoy a tour, if only to see how our Academy prospers under your hand. Lord Sefert Burvelle, my brother, has spoken to me of some of the changes you’ve wrought. I’m sure I’d enjoy seeing them for myself.’
‘Has he?’ Colonel Stiet cocked his head. ‘How strange that he would take an interest in my institution, when he has no soldier son of his own. Still. If you are sure you have the time …?’
‘I will always have the time when our cavalla is concerned.’
‘And where your son is concerned, I suppose.’ Colonel Stiet smiled narrowly.
My father’s expression was calmly affable. ‘As from today my son is a member of the King’s Cavalla, I trust that if I concern myself with the best interest of the cavalla, the cavalla will, as it always has, look after its own.’
There was a moment of silence. ‘Indeed,’ said Colonel Stiet, and that was not the affirmation of fellowship that I had hoped for, nor did I think his lukewarm response pleased my father.
Caulder Stiet re-entered the room quietly, to stand at parade rest behind his father’s shoulder. He had not made a sound, and yet Colonel Stiet seemed immediately aware of him. He spoke to his son without looking toward him. ‘Show Cadet Burvelle to his quarters. Let my secretary know that I will be occupied for a short time, showing Lord Burvelle about the Academy grounds.’
‘Sir,’ the boy agreed, and then turned to me and with a gesture invited me to precede him from the room. Outside Colonel Stiet’s office, we paused while Caulder passed on the colonel’s message to the young lieutenant there. The young man acknowledged it with a brusque nod and continued opening and sorting a large stack of envelopes on his desk. I wondered briefly if it bothered him that his commands were passed on to him by a mere boy.
I followed young Caulder as he led me out of the Administration Building and across the grounds of the Academy. We kept meticulously to the well-groomed footpaths. The boy was silent and walked swiftly, but my longer legs easily kept up with his. He glanced back at me once, but the sunny friendliness had left his face. He was all business now.
He marched us swiftly to cadet housing. There were several dormitory houses, all fronting on a central parade ground. Two were of new red brick with many windows. The other three were older buildings of grey stone, and had obviously been adapted to function as dormitories. Caulder led me to one of the older structures. Noting the davits and freight hooks still attached to the upper storey, I guessed that they had begun their existence as warehouses. I followed him up the worn steps.
A wide door admitted us into the foyer. Battle trophies and war flags decorated the panelled walls. In the centre of the room, a grey-haired sergeant in cavalla uniform sat behind a polished desk. Before him was a spotless blotter, inkpot and pen stand, and a sheaf of paper. Behind him, a wide staircase led to the upper reaches of the building. The sergeant regarded us steadily as Caulder approached him. There was no warmth in his grey eyes; rather he reminded me of a weary shepherd dog given yet another task.
‘Cadet Nevare Burvelle for you, Sergeant Rufet. He’s a New Noble’s soldier son. He is to be billeted on the fourth floor.’
Sergeant Rufet’s gaze slid past the boy to meet my eyes. ‘Are you a mute, Cadet?’ he asked me in a falsely kind voice.
I stood straighter. ‘No, Sergeant, I am not.’
‘Then I suggest that you report in for yourself, Cadet. Unless you plan to keep your little friend at your side for your entire Academy career.’
A flush heated my cheeks. ‘Cadet Nevare Burvelle reporting, Sergeant Rufet.’
‘Very good. Now, let me see where I’ve got you bedding down.’ His blunt fingers travelled down the list before him. I noticed then that his right hand had only half a thumb. ‘Ah. Yes. I believe your trunk was already delivered.’ He lifted his eyes from his sheaf of paper. ‘And it’s taking up more than your share of space in the quarters you’ll be sharing. Fourth floor. First door to the left. Your trunk is at the foot of the bed assigned to you. See that you move your necessary possessions to your allocated space, and then place the trunk and all unnecessary items in the lowerground storage area. Pick up your bedding from the quartermaster after that, and make your space tidy. Meals commence five minutes after the bell sounds and are served in the mess. You will march there with your patrol. Be on time, attired properly and in your place, or go without a meal. Any questions?’
‘Where do I find the quartermaster, Sergeant Rufet?’
‘Down that hall, second door on the right.’
At my side, young Caulder fidgeted restlessly, impatient at being ignored. I wondered if the sergeant disliked the boy or if his rudeness was simply part of his nature. ‘Any other questions?’ the sergeant barked at me, and I realized I had not responded to him.
‘No, Sergeant. Thank you.’
‘You’re dismissed then.’ He lowered his eyes back to his papers.
‘Am I dismissed, also?’ Caulder asked. His tone was snide, as if he wished to provoke a response from the sergeant.
‘As
