Shaman's Crossing (The Soldier Son Trilogy #1)

Instead, brow knit, he began to question us about the distinctions made between old and new nobility soldier sons, and how Colonel Stiet ran the Academy and even about his son Caulder. The more we told him, the graver he looked. I had not realized what a relief it would be to unburden myself about the inequities at the school. I had believed the Academy would be a place of high honor and lofty values. Not only had I discovered that was not so, I had besmirched my own honor in my very first year there. I had not realized how troubled I was nor how disappointed until we were given the opportunity to talk freely.

Small things bothered me almost as much as the larger injustices. When I told him that in all likelihood we had brought Sirlofty all the way to Old Thares for nothing, for I would be forced to use an Academy mount, he did not smile, but nodded solemnly and commented, “Giving you that horse was a very significant act for your father. He believes that a worthy mount is a cavalla man’s first line of defense. He will not approve of this new regulation.” I felt a great relief to know that he, a first son and never a soldier, could grasp the depth of my disappointment.

When both Spink and I had talked our way to silence, he leaned back and sighed heavily. For a brief time he stared into the shadowy corners of the room as if seeing something there that was invisible to us. Then he looked back at us and smiled sadly.

“Doings at the Academy only reflect what goes on in the wider world of the court,” he told us. “When King Troven created a second rank of nobility and gave it equal status to the first, he well knew what he was doing. When he elevated those soldier sons to lords, he won their hearts and their loyalty. The old nobility families could find no grounds to refuse them admittance to the Council of Lords. In ancient days, we of the old families had won our nobility on the battlefields, just as the new lords had. And Troven did not elevate anyone who was not the second son of an old lord. No one could say that the men he raised were of inferior blood without leveling the same accusation against their brother nobles. It divided many a family, as Spink here knows too well. In other families”-he shifted uncomfortably in his seat-“well, it is not coincidence that I have chosen to invite you to my home when my lady wife is away. She is one of those who feels that her own status was diminished when others were elevated to share it.”

He sighed again and looked down at his hands folded between his knees. Spink and I exchanged glances. He looked more bewildered than I felt. From my father’s conversation with my uncle when we first arrived in Old Thares, I’d had an inkling that the schoolboy politics at the Academy were connected to the larger unrest among the nobles. I still had not expected my uncle to take our account so seriously. And I was surprised that my uncle reacted as if our breaking of the honor code were of little importance. I wondered if he really understood the honor code, if a man not born a soldier son could grasp how important it was. I was tempted to let sleeping dogs lie, but my father’s instruction had ground honor into me. I suddenly knew that I could not carry that guilt for the next two years. I lifted my head and met his eyes squarely. “What about the fight in our dormitory?” I asked. “Neither Spink nor I reported it.”

He almost smiled. He shook his head fondly at me and shocked me by saying, “Let it go, Nevare. Among any group of men there will always be those tussles, the shouldering and jockeying for power. Spink here had the common sense to keep it within bounds. It might surprise you to know that I’ve seen a few fistfights in my time, and most of them were a lot bloodier and dirtier than what you described to me. I don’t think anyone’s honor is broken or even tarnished by it. No. What the honor code tries to prevent is the sort of thing that happened to your friend Gord or the young lieutenant. From what you say, they took serious beatings, and not from some individual whom they clashed with, but from a group of cadets that singled them out. What happened to your friend Gord might have been the impulse of the moment, but it sounds as if Tiber encountered a plot against him. That should have been reported; I am still shocked that the doctor didn’t take it upon himself to question you more thoroughly. I fear that the third-years that you spoke of may have been more forthcoming as witnesses. That you did not speak differently from what they might have said…well. I think I will have a word with him, when I return you two to the Academy.”

I was struck dumb for an instant and looked at the floor. I desperately did not want him to do any such thing, but could not think of any reason I could give to dissuade him from it. An instant later, to my shame, I realized I was afraid that if he confronted the doctor and forced him to investigate it, the third-years would know I was the source of the conflict, and that retaliation might befall me.