And we did, panting and bedraggled. “We’re the only ones,” Nate whispered. I moved only my eyes to confirm that what he said was so. We were the only patrol to have reached the opposite bank. The remains of our bridge hung in woeful tatters, but I had gotten my patrol across. I waited to hear what Maw would say to us. I needed to hear that we had done well.
“Cadets. Gather up your gear and tools, and return them to the supply room. Put the lumber near the kindling supply for the sciences building. After that, you are dismissed for the day. I hope you enjoy your Dark Evening holiday.”
We looked at one another, trying to decide what his words meant. The patrol of Skeltzin Hall first-years looked devastated. The two old noble patrols looked apprehensive. Had they failed? As he walked away, Maw called over his shoulder, “Marks for this exercise will be posted on my door in three days. Cadet Burvelle, see me in my office. After you have cleaned yourself up, of course.”
And so my triumph was very brief. The other patrols had an easier time of gathering up their materials than we did. The bridge that had proven so frail for crossing was quite tenacious when we tried to take it down. I said little as I did most of the work of dismantling it. It was cold and dirty work, and a thankless task. I had to climb down into the ravine to get the stepping boards that had fallen. When I climbed back up, I found that only Gord was waiting for me, a coil of muddy rope slung over his shoulder. The others had already taken their share of the mess and carried it off. I pushed down a rueful smile; my “command” had not even waited to be dismissed by me.
Gord and I spoke little as we walked back to Carneston House. As we drew closer to the steps, he said, “I’m going home for the Dark Evening holiday. My uncle’s family is going out to our hunting lodge near Lake Foror. It’s frozen by now, and there will be skating.”
“I hope you have a good time,” I said without interest. I wondered if I should have accepted my uncle’s invitation, then decided that a holiday with Epiny and my wrathful aunt might be more stressful than one spent alone. I now felt little inclination to go into town with the other cadets. I felt I’d failed them.
“I could take your uniform with me. We have servants, you know. They do quite a good job at cleaning things.”
He didn’t look at me as he made this offer, and for a moment I didn’t know what to reply. He took my silence for surliness, I think, for he then said, “I want to apologize, Nevare. I broke the bridge with my damnable weight. But for me, we would have crossed in good order.”
My jaw dropped and I stared at him. It had never occurred to me to blame anyone but myself for what had happened. I said so. “I thought the bridge would work for us. After most of the patrol was across, I realized I should have sent you first, when it was most intact. But at the time, it seemed more important to me to get the most men across first.”
“And in a battle or patrol situation, you would have been right. You’ve a good instinct for command, Nevare.”
“Thank you,” I said awkwardly. And then, even more awkwardly, I asked him, “Is that why you suggested me for leader today?”
He met my eyes and his face was full of guilt. He blushed suddenly, his cheeks turning a hot red, and then said, “No. I’d no idea that you could pull it off. I…was following an order, Nevare. From Maw. I had no idea what was coming today, but last week, as we were leaving the classroom, he pulled me aside and said, ‘A time will come when I tell you to divide in groups and choose a leader. When that time comes, you are to suggest Cadet Nevare Burvelle. Do that, and I’ll overlook the hash you made of today’s assignment. Fail to do that, and take a failing mark for today.’ I, well, I didn’t know what else to say except, ‘Yes, sir.’ And today, when he told the patrols to select leaders, he looked right at me. So I suggested you.”
“I don’t get it,” I said quietly. What Gord had told me was terribly upsetting but I couldn’t quite understand why. “I don’t know why he wanted you to do that. Did he think I’d be a failure, as I was, and that he could cull us all? Don’t look so horrified, Gord. You had to do it. He gave you an order. But I wish…” I halted my own words, not sure what I wished. I was suddenly certain that neither Trist nor Spink would have seen the answer to Maw’s riddle. If, indeed, it had been a riddle. I shook my head. “I was so certain that I’d deduced what today’s test was all about. That the objective was to get the patrol across the ditch, not to build a bridge.”
“I think you were right. As soon as you said it, I was sure you were right. It made so much sense to me; if we had come across an obstacle like that on a real patrol, would we stop and build a bridge or just find a way across it?”
“We’d just cross,” I said absently. I suddenly knew what was upsetting me. I’d wanted at least one of my friends to see me as a true leader. Even Gord. I wondered suddenly if Trist had also received an order from Maw. Was that why he had given way to me so easily? I felt as if my guts had fallen to the bottom of my belly. Heavyhearted. Was that what that word had always meant? None of my friends had ever looked at me and seen the potential for command. Because they all knew it just wasn’t there.
We walked the rest of the way in silence. I changed into my spare uniform and decided to accept Gord’s offer of taking my other one home to have it cleaned. My bleakness was at odds with the rest of my fellows. Despite the culling still hanging over us, they seemed to have set aside their uncertainties. They were dressing for an evening out in Old Thares and excitedly discussing their plans for Dark Evening. There was to be a night market in the Grand Square, with all sorts of things for sale, at the very best prices. On the adjacent green, a circus with a sideshow had set up its tents and booths. There were acrobats and tumblers, jugglers, wild animal tamers, and all manner of freaks in the sideshow. Everyone was putting on his best clothing and counting up his spending money. I felt like a stranger among them as I left Carneston House and started back toward Maw’s office. No one seemed to notice me leaving or wonder why I’d been summoned.
The sun had gone down behind the distant hills, its meager warmth fleeing with the night’s arrival. The campus was a landscape of gray snow and black trees. The irregularly spaced pole lanterns made pools of feeble light; I felt I was traveling from island to island, and suddenly it reminded me of my journey from column top to column top in the dream where I had first met the tree woman. Such a thought on Dark Evening was enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, and I shivered.
Maw was in his office adjacent to the classroom, waiting for me. The door stood ajar. I tapped and waited until he told me to come in. I entered, saluted, and remained standing and silent until he waved me into a seat. The office was as chill as the rest of the building, but Maw appeared comfortable. He set aside some papers stacked on his desk and looked up with both a sigh and a smile. “Well. Cadet Burvelle, you look a bit cleaner than when I last saw you.”
I couldn’t find a smile to match his. I felt a sense of foreboding. “Yes, sir,” was all I said. He glanced at me, and then looked back at the papers on his desk. He tapped them a bit more into alignment and then said, “Do you remember our little talk earlier this year?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Has the idea gained any appeal for you?”
“I can’t say that it has, sir.”
He wet his lips and sighed yet again. Suddenly he leaned back in his chair and met my gaze squarely. I felt as if he had dropped a curtain between us as he said, “A man faces many difficult tasks in his life, Burvelle. And when he is given charge of promising young men, and he knows that the decisions and choices he makes can affect their futures, their entire lives, well, those are the hardest choices of all. I’m sure you know from rumor that a culling is on the horizon. The cadets always know these things. I don’t know why we pretend they are secret or a surprise.”
I made no response, and after a moment he went on. “The military has changed, Burvelle. It had to. Your own father was instrumental in the first part of the change, when he supported the founding of this Academy. An academy such as this, as a foundation for becoming an officer, says that education may be more important than bloodlines. That was a very unpopular idea, you must know. We were badly beaten in our war with Landsing. Badly. We had clung to our traditions too firmly; we deployed our men, ships, and cavalla as if we were still fighting with swords and spears and catapults. Soldier sons were born soldiers, we said; we thought the idea that they must betaught to fight a foolish one. And, of course, the soldier sons of nobles were born officers, with no need of instruction in that task. In those days, all commissions were bought or inherited. The education we gave our officers was intended more to form an attitude than to instruct in strategy. Six months of polishing and off we sent our young lieutenants. The War College! Was ever an institution so poorly named? It should have been called the Gentlemen’s Club. Knowing how to critique a wine or play a good hand of cards was considered more important
