LITMIR.BIZ

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alongside us was our first reminder that the cavalla flourished only when the needs of every rider were given equal consideration. Dent’s eyes seemed to linger on Gord as he spoke.

      It seemed a completely unnecessary lecture to me, for I had always been taught that basic dining manners demanded that one wait until the entire party had arrived and been seated but I held my tongue and stood in place behind my chair until we were given permission to sit. And again, I found myself surprised that our shepherd seemed to think we needed instruction in basic manners. Speaking simply, as if we might not understand, he informed us gravely that each dish of food would be passed around the table, allowing each man an opportunity to serve himself, but that we were to refrain from eating until every man had his rations. He cautioned us also that there was enough food for each of us to have generous servings, but that we should serve ourselves in moderation until we had seen that each man had a fair portion of every dish. I exchanged a glance with Kort and Natred. Kort rolled his eyes toward Gord, as if to indicate he was the intended recipient of Corporal Dent’s words. Gord’s eyes were downcast, but I could not tell if he stared at the food or avoided Dent’s gaze.

      Later, as we sat around the study tables in the relative peace of our dormitory, Natred grinned and said, ‘I half-expected him to be shocked that we used cutlery instead of eating with our hands!’

      Spink shrugged. ‘He probably thinks that those of us from the frontier were raised rough and crude. I suppose I have been, in many ways. Many’s the night when I’ve shared a common pot of food with our hired men when we’re camping with the flocks to keep the wild dogs off the new lambs. It doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to behave when there’s a cloth on the table, but perhaps he thought it better to tell us ahead of time, and keep some poor sap from embarrassing himself by having to be corrected.’

      Our conversation was interrupted when Caleb and Rory commandeered our table for an arm-wrestling match. Very soon we were all involved in trying our strength against our fellows. The contest between Rory and Natred quickly escalated into a wrestling match on the floor. We had not realized how rowdy we had become until the study table overturned with a crash. That sobered us, and we had righted it and resumed our seats when we heard hurried footsteps on the stairs. Seconds later our red-sashed shepherd thrust himself into our room. ‘What’s going on up here?’ Corporal Dent demanded as we came to our feet. His freckles had nearly vanished in the angry flush on his face.

      ‘Just some horseplay, sir,’ Natred replied after a few moments of silence. ‘Good-natured. Not a fight.’

      Corporal Dent scowled. ‘I might have known,’ he muttered, as if he had been foolish to expect civilized behaviour from us. ‘Well, settle down and stop romping like boys. The men on the floors below you are trying to enjoy some peace. The lot of you had best get yourselves ready for lights-out. When the horns blow at sunrise, you’ll be expected to assemble – washed, shaved and in uniform – on the central parade ground. Don’t make me come and roust you out. You won’t be pleased by how I’ll do it.’

      With that, he turned himself about smartly and marched out of our common room. As he went down the steps, over the angry clacking of his boots, we heard him fume, ‘Just my luck. Saddled with a bunch of New Noble oafs!’

      We exchanged glances, some of us shocked, others puzzled as we slowly resumed our seats. Natred seemed amused, Kort offended.

      ‘It’s how they’ll do us,’ Rory informed us lazily. He stood, scratched his chest, and then stretched. ‘My cousin’s an Old Noble’s son. Made no difference. He said the corporals will find a reason to pick on us all, as a group. He says it’s supposed to teach us group loyalty and make us hang together, to improve as a patrol. Next couple of weeks, no matter how hard we try, they’ll ride us hard, find little things to fault us on, and hand out extra duties or make us march demerits or roust us out of our bunks in the middle of the night for nothin’. And Dent won’t be the only one. Expect some harassment from every cadet with a second-year stripe on his sleeve. In fact, tonight will probably be the last good night’s sleep we’ll get for a time. So I’m going to take advantage of it.’ He yawned hugely and then grinned at us sheepishly. ‘Country boy, me. I go to bed when the birds stop singin’.’

      His yawn had set me to yawning, also. I nodded at him. ‘Me, too. It’s been a long day.’

      ‘No one wants to stay up for a game of dice with me?’ Trist asked invitingly. He alone seemed undaunted at Corporal Dent’s rebuke. He leaned his chair back on two legs, his arms crossed on his chest as he grinned his broad, white grin. Trist was the handsomest of us, with his hazel eyes and short thatch of curly, sandy hair. He exuded charm like a flower gives off scent. I surmised that he’d quickly become our leader, and eventually a charismatic officer. His invitation was tempting.

      ‘I’m in,’ Gord announced eagerly. His fat cheeks wobbled with enthusiasm.

      I steeled my will and spoke into the quiet room. ‘Not me. I don’t play dice.’

      I turned to go to my bed as Spink reminded Trist seriously, ‘Dice are against the rules. No cards, no dice, no games of chance allowed in the dormitories, on pain of expulsion. Didn’t you read the rule book?’

      Trist nodded lazily. ‘I did. But who’s going to tell?’

      I turned back slowly to the group, knowing that my honour would require me to report any breaking of the rules. I suddenly liked Trist a lot less than I had a few moments ago. I tried to find the courage to say that I would report it, that I’d have to. My mouth was dry.

      Spink shook his head. He crossed his arms on his chest but it didn’t help much. He still looked small, almost childish compared to the lanky, lounging Trist. ‘You shouldn’t be putting us on the spot like this, Trist. You know we’ll be held accountable for your behaviour, even if we’re not part of it. You know that the honour code would require us to report it.’

      Trist brought his chair back flat on the floor with a thump, and then stood slowly. The blond cadet towered over small, dark Spink. ‘I was just joking with you, Spink. Are you always this serious? God’s breath, what a stiff neck you are!’

      Spink stood his ground, his feet slightly apart as if setting his weight for a fight. ‘And that’s blasphemy, to speak the good god’s name other than in prayer. And also against Academy rules.’

      ‘Your pardon, O saintly one. I’ll go to my room and make reparations now.’ Trist rolled his eyes and sauntered from the room. Spink refused to notice it or to look after him. After a moment, Oron and Gord followed him, closing the door behind them.

      I felt sad at that first little crack in our unity, even though a part of me recognized it as inevitable. Sergeant Duril had spoken to me of such things, though he had been speaking from his experience in the field rather than at an Academy. Despite the differences, I recognized that his words would hold true here as well. ‘Whenever a new group forms, or an old group takes in new members … don’t matter if it’s a regiment or a patrol, nor even if it’s troopies or officers … there’ll be some shoving to see who’s first to the trough. They’ll try each other’s strength, and it’s rare that there’s not a fistfight or three before the dust finally settles. Just keep your cool and remember it’s got to be, and do your best to stay clear of it. Don’t back down, lad, that’s not what I’m saying. But hang back, calm like, and make them shove the challenge at you before you take it up. So no one ever doubts that it wasn’t you that started it. You just be the one that finishes it.’

      ‘Nevare?’ Kort nudged me, and I jumped. I realized I’d been staring at the closed door. ‘Forget about it,’ he advised me quietly.

      I nodded. ‘I think I’m ready for bed, too,’ I excused myself. But that was sooner said than done. There was only one washstand in our room, and I had to wait my turn for it. Rory wandered into our room in a homespun nightshirt. He perched on the foot of my bed beside me and spoke quietly. ‘Think there’ll be trouble ’tween Trist and Spink?’

      ‘Spink won’t start it,’ I said after a moment of pondering.

      ‘I guess that’s

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