bowed to him, and then as I advanced, he said, quite loudly, ‘Good god’s breath, Burvelle! Is that Nevare?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ my father said levelly. His look told me I was a fool for having called attention to myself. He forced a grin to his face. ‘I think the Academy doctor went too far in putting flesh back on him after the plague. He’ll soon have it off, if I have anything to say about it.’
And what could I do, save grin shamefacedly and agree? ‘Very soon, sir,’ I assured him. And then, lying through my teeth, I added, ‘The doctor told me that a temporary weight gain like this is not unknown among plague survivors. He told me that I should be grateful to have gone this way, rather than lost flesh and stamina.’
‘Well … I’m sure the doctor would know what he is talking about. Still. It is a startling change, Nevare, as I’m sure you know.’ Lord Grenalter seemed determined to make me admit that the transformation was horrifying.
‘Yes, sir, it is that. Thankfully, as I’ve said, it is temporary.’
‘Well. I suppose we should thank the good god for your health, and never mind the rest for now.’
‘Yes, sir. I do that every morning when I awaken alive. It’s not a thing a man takes for granted, once he has experienced the plague.’
‘Was it very bad, then, in the city?’
And I was pathetically grateful to horrify the poor man with a lurid telling of just how bad it had been. When I spoke of the dead stacked like cord wood on the snowy grounds, I realized that even my father was listening to me. So I deliberately told, with genuine sorrow, of my fellows whose health had broken so badly that they would never soldier at all, let alone continue a career at the Academy. I finished with, ‘And so, of course, ungainly as I find myself at present, you can understand why I am grateful to have come through the experience with my future intact. And with Colonel Rebin in charge of the Academy once more, I anticipate continuing my studies with more pleasure than ever.’
‘A remarkable tale! And did they ever find what wayward son of a dog brought plague to Old Thares?’ Carsina’s father was completely in thrall to my tale now.
I shook my head. ‘It is suspected that it came to the city with some Specks who were being displayed at a Dark Evening carnival.’
‘What?’ Horrified, he turned to my father. ‘Had you heard of Specks being allowed to travel to the west?’
‘It was inevitable that someone would try to smuggle some to the city eventually,’ my father said with great resignation. ‘The greatest folly was that one of them was a female. From correspondence I’ve had with authorities at the Academy, she was the likely source of the plague.’
‘No!’ Carsina’s father was aghast. He turned to me, and suddenly a new light kindled in his eyes, as if he had suddenly worked an equation and was appalled at the answer. His eyes appraised me warily. How had I contracted the dread disease? The question was in his gaze if not on his lips and I answered it directly.
‘There are other ways of transmission besides sexual contact,’ I hastily insisted. ‘I’ve been working with Dr Amicas at the Academy, simply because of the unique aspects of my case. Some of my fellows, I will admit, fell to the plague after having congress with a Speck whore. I, sir, was not one of them. Nor, for example, was the young son of the former Academy commander. And of course, my own girl-cousin Epiny was also a victim of the plague.’
‘And did she die?’ I suddenly realized that the circle of my audience had grown. This query came from another listener, a middle-aged woman unwisely dressed in a virulent pink gown.
‘No, ma’am, I’m happy to say she did not. Her case was very mild and she recovered with no side-effects. Unfortunately, that was not true for the young new noble cadet she married. Cadet Kester was forced to withdraw from the Academy. He is determined that he will recover his health sufficiently to return, but many feel that his military career is over.’
Several of my listeners now spoke at once.
‘I served with Kester! It must be his son. That’s a damnable shame! Who else fell to the plague, from the new noble ranks?’
‘What saved your cousin from the plague? What herbs did she take? My Dorota is with her husband at Gettys. She and her two little ones. They haven’t had it in the household yet, but she fears it’s just a matter of time!’ There was great worry in that matron’s voice as she pushed closer to me.
But the voice I heard most clearly was that of Carsina’s father. Grenalter said slowly to my father, ‘Epiny Burvelle – that would be your brother’s elder daughter. She married a new noble soldier son who’ll have no career? Surely you told me that your brother planned to marry her to an old noble heir son?’
My father attempted a tolerant laugh. That was when I knew I’d said too much. ‘Well, you know young people today, Grenalter, especially the city-bred ones. They have small respect for the plans of their parents. And in a time of plague, permissions are given that ordinarily would be refused. Just as soldiers facing battle will sometimes commit acts that they would otherwise recognize as foolhardy.’
‘Foolhardy. Indeed. I’ve witnessed a few acts like that,’ Grenalter conceded heavily. I could tell he was distracted, and I could almost see him totting up and subtracting the advantages and disadvantages of his marital agreement with our family as if he were an accountant. Suddenly Epiny’s words about being sold as a bride to the highest bidder didn’t seem so melodramatic. Obviously, my weight gain was a debit to the transaction, but an even larger one was that the branch of the Burvelle family in Old Thares had not sold off their daughter to an old nobility family. Did connections and marriages actually carry that much political and social weight, I wondered, and then instantly knew that they did.
‘Well?’ demanded the woman anxiously, and my mind leapt back to her question.
‘Lots of water and rest were the chief treatment, I’m afraid. I wish I could tell you something more specific. Dr Amicas is making the prevention of the plague his specific area of study. He’s a very dedicated man. If anyone can come up with solid recommendations to protect families from transmission, it will be him.’
‘And which other new nobles perished?’ the other man demanded. I recognized him but could not call up his name. He was not a new noble, but was a very successful ranker who had followed Grenalter into retirement much as my father’s men had congregated around him. I suddenly realized that men like him would be pinning their hopes on the rise of the new noble class. Old nobles and heir sons would have little respect for a ranker like him. The new nobles who had directly commanded him recognized his worth. And if they came to power, that recognition might extend to his own soldier sons.
So I recited reluctantly the names of those new noble sons who had died from the plague, and those whose health had been badly compromised. When I mentioned that Trist Wissom had lost his health, I was surprised at the collective sigh of sympathy. And I was shocked when I recounted the names of those who had recovered well, and people exchanged glad glances when they heard that Rory and Gord were unscathed. They did not know my fellow cadets, but they knew or had known of their fathers. There was a sense of connection there. The old nobles were right to fear our rise to influence. The real power lay not in the new nobles and their sons who would follow wherever the King led, but in the ranks of the military that felt loyalty and alliance to the new nobles.
‘Damn shame what’s happened to our Academy.
