LITMIR.BIZ

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every week’s end with us. I shall die of ennui this Sevday if we do not have some company to amuse me. Please, Papa! Mama will not mind! She is gone to wait on the Queen, so she will not complain of too much company and noisy games giving her a headache. Please!’

      I had never heard a woman of her years whine and beg like a little child. I think I would have been more humiliated by Epiny’s wheedling if a flush of forlorn hope had not passed over Spink’s face. It was gone almost before I had seen it, but I knew my uncle had perceived it when he said gently, ‘Epiny, my dear, I would be glad to invite Nevare’s friend, but I fear we have left it too late for this visit. I would need to request permission of Colonel Stiet, and Cadet Kester would need time to pack a bag. Perhaps when the first-years are next given leave, we can invite him.’

      She gave a harrumph and then crossed her arms stubbornly. ‘Papa, it is not a problem, really. You can tell the colonel now that we are taking him, and while you are doing so, he could run back and quickly pack a few things. Men need very little in the way of clothing and such; I am sure he could be ready in no time at all. Couldn’t you, Spinrek?’ She smiled most charmingly as she unabashedly helped herself to his first name.

      He was like a bird paralysed by a snake. Epiny and Spink were of a height and she cocked her head and smiled as she awaited his response. He looked into her open gaze and knew he must offer a reply and that the only polite response would be to agree with her. ‘I suppose I could,’ he said, and then, as if suddenly aware that he had put my uncle in a difficult position, hastily added, ‘But I doubt that Colonel Stiet would give me permission on such short notice.’

      ‘Oh, Colonel Stiet? Don’t fret about him. My mother knows his wife, and the colonel’s lady would just die to do anything that might please her. I’ll go with Papa and say that my mother would take it as such a personal favour if you were allowed to visit. Run and get your things so you don’t keep us waiting when we come out. Come, Papa, let us go and see the colonel.’

      ‘Epiny, you are impossible!’ To my shock, my uncle was laughing at her deplorable behaviour.

      ‘No, Father, I am certainly not! What is impossible is trying to remain amused when the house is as still as a tomb. Just look at how Nevare is already frowning at me! I do not think he will be very amusing at all. Purissa is too little to be any use at all in serious games … unless you will take time to play with us? Oh, would you, Papa? I can never guess your finish card when I play Towsers with you. Will you play?’

      My uncle just looked weary at the question, and I found myself wondering how many hands of Towsers he’d had to play recently. I well recalled when my sisters had become infatuated with table marbles and made the game the focus of their lives for an entire summer. My father had tolerated it for a month, then exiled it to the schoolroom and finally banned it outright when my mother complained that chores and lessons were being shirked. Uncle Sefert seemed willing to try a different tactic. In a moment of decision, I saw both Spink and myself offered as sacrifice to Epiny’s caprice. ‘I’m sure I won’t have to mention your mother to get Colonel Stiet to release Cadet Kester to me for the free days.’ He paused to look at both of us severely and add, ‘I trust you young men will bring your study materials so as to be well prepared for Firstday. I do not want the colonel to think that my home is an undisciplined place of folly and leisure.’

      ‘No, sir. I shall not neglect my books.’ Spink’s pleasure at the thought of two days away from the routine of the Academy shone in his face. He beamed as I had never seen him smile before.

      I think that such an honest display of warm anticipation pleased my uncle, for he gruffly ordered us to ‘put my nephew’s bag in the boot, and then hurry off to fetch Kester’s pack. Epiny, wait in the carriage. I will not be long.’

      ‘But I want to go with them, to see Nevare’s dormitory, Papa!’

      For one horrifying moment, I thought my uncle would accede to this also. Instead, he held out his arm to her and patted it firmly with the fingers of his other hand. After a moment, she sighed in resignation, and obediently set her hand atop his arm. He escorted her back to the carriage, and then he himself went up the steps of the Administration Building. As the door closed behind him, she scowled at us from the window of the carriage and gestured imperiously that we should be on our way.

      I loaded my bag into the boot and then Spink and I risked a demerit by running full tilt back to Carneston House. As Epiny had predicted, it took very little time for him to stuff his necessities into a small bag, and then we were off, again at a run. Although we had hurried, my uncle and Epiny were both waiting beside the carriage when we returned. Caulder was there too and despite my uncle’s disapproving grimace, he seemed to be trying to strike up a conversation with Epiny. At that moment, it dawned on me that it was very likely that my cousin knew Caulder, if her mother and his mother were actually friends.

      We caught the end of some admonition that Epiny was delivering to him as we hurried up, out of breath. ‘… just tell him you won’t wear it, Caulder. Has your father no idea of how silly you look, all dressed up as a cadet when it will be years and years until you are really old enough to be one? It’s as if you are playing dress-up in your nursery! Look at me, now. I’m years older than you are, and yet you don’t see me all dressed up as if I were already a lady of the court or a married woman!’

      Caulder’s cheeks were very pink. He sucked in his lower lip, almost as if he feared it would tremble, and glared at Spink and me as if it were our fault we had overheard his friend’s remonstrance. He brought his heels together and bowed to Epiny, saying only, ‘I shall look forward to seeing you at Lake Foror for the spring holiday.’

      ‘Perhaps,’ she said vaguely, and then turning aside from him, she lifted her whistle to her lips and tweeted it at us inquiringly.

      ‘We’re ready,’ I told her, almost defensively. The way Caulder was staring at us promised trouble for Spink and me later. I felt it unwise to ignore the boy completely, so I bid him a stiff farewell, as did Spink. I suddenly wanted, more than ever, to be away from the Academy.

      On the long ride to my uncle’s home, he and I dominated the conversation. I do not think Spink had ever been in so fine a carriage. He touched the leather of the seat, fingered the tassel on the cushion and then abruptly folded his hands on his lap. He looked out the window for most of the journey and I did not blame him, for Epiny stared at him frankly, breathing lightly and speculatively through her whistle. I thought her behaviour quite childish for her years and wondered that her father tolerated it, but he seemed caught up in quizzing me about my studies, routine, classmates, and teachers, and ignored his wayward daughter.

      At one point, in the midst of my uncle telling me a story about his days at boarding school, she took the whistle out of her mouth, pointed it at Spink and said accusingly, ‘Kellon Spinrek Kester. Am I right?’

      Spink, startled, only replied with a sharp nod. When my uncle looked at me quizzically, I said, ‘Spink’s father was a war hero. He was tortured to death by plainsmen.’

      ‘He lasted over six hours,’ Epiny enlightened us, and then added for our benefit, ‘I adore history. I much prefer our family’s soldier son journals to the watered-down places-and-dates history in the schoolbooks. Your father’s journal mentions Spink’s father, Nevare. Did you know that?’

      ‘Not until now, Epiny,’ I said, deliberately using her first name, as she had made so free with Spink’s nickname. Then I inwardly winced, wondering if my uncle would think me ill-mannered, but in truth, I do not think he even noticed. I was shocked when Spink said, very quietly, ‘I should like to read those entries if I might, Lord Burvelle.’

      ‘Of course you may, Cadet Kester,’ my uncle replied warmly. ‘But I fear that we shall have to rely on Epiny to find them for us. My brother, Nevare’s father, sent us more than twenty-five volumes during the course of his service for the King. He was a very prolific writer in his soldier son days.’

      ‘I can find it easily enough,’ Epiny promised. ‘And if you wish, I can copy out those passages for you. They might make a lovely introduction to your own soldier son journals.’ She smiled

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