by Lucy Saxon
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About the author
Books by Lucy Saxon
1
Now: Rensav
Aleks was woken by a deafeningly loud klaxon, and jolted up out of his narrow cot bed, blue eyes wide in alarm. ‘Relax, new boy, it’s just the wake-up call,’ Jarek groaned from the bed beside his, plugging his ears with his fingers. The klaxon shut off, and Aleks relaxed even as he reddened in embarrassment, hearing a few men snigger at his overreaction. Not the best start for his first day as a cadet.
He moved to get back under the covers, but Jarek swung his long legs out of his own bed and reached over to swat him. ‘No point in that – you’re up now. The lieutenant will be here to get you soon, anyway. Better get dressed first,’ he suggested. Aleks frowned, glancing around as several other cadets reached into their trunks for clothes and shaving kits, before heading to the washroom.
‘Do I not get breakfast first?’ Apparently that was hilarious, as Jarek laughed outright, green eyes glinting with cold amusement.
‘Oh, you’ve got so much to learn, baby bird. They’ll feed you when they’re happy with you, no sooner.’ Aleks gritted his teeth. Jarek was probably just teasing him, trying to make him scared. He should’ve expected it as the new kid.
He was lacing his boots when the door slammed open, and those still in the room hurried to stand to attention at the ends of their beds. Aleks hastened to do the same, face burning as he tripped over his unlaced boot, simultaneously trying to smooth his jet black hair down from its messy bedhead. The man who had entered strode down the rows, sneering at them all. He was fair-haired and pale, with a very impressive moustache and lieutenant rank white stripes on his deep blue uniform. He stopped in front of Aleks, who almost forgot how to breathe.
‘You must be the fresh meat,’ the man who could only be Lieutenant Shulga drawled, mud-brown eyes roaming critically over Aleks’s form, taking in his untucked shirt and tangled bootlaces. ‘Come with me.’ Aleks bent to tie his laces, only to be dragged back upright by the collar of his shirt. ‘I said come with me!’ Shulga growled, spittle flying. Aleks nodded sharply, following the man out of the barracks and trying to ignore Jarek’s muffled snickers. He could handle a little hazing; he was stronger than that. And it was only his first day, after all, though it felt as though he’d been here far longer. His arrival in Rensav felt like aeons ago, and his stomach was already knotted with anxiety at the thought of what lay ahead of him.
The Previous Morning: Rensav
He still felt half asleep when he poured himself onto Quicksilver’s saddle, though after a good gallop with the wind in his face he felt far more alert, finally able to appreciate the view up ahead of him. With very little to worry about in the way of storms or attacks, due to being so well protected by the mountains, the buildings in the Southern city of Rensav were taller than he was used to out West. The occasional wrought-steel spire pointed up out of a sea of grey stone houses and shops, making it clear where the temples were. The sparkling jewel in the middle of all the monochrome was the palace, built from what seemed like an entire mountain’s worth of precious stones and metals, clearly visible even from so far away. Off to the West, he could just about see the Stormlands, a solid wall of raging black clouds; they looked angrier than usual, and he wondered if a big storm was going to hit soon. The Stormlands had been doing all sorts of strange things over the past year or so – he would miss the sight of them from his bedroom window.
Aleks stopped on the peak of a hill to take in the view, awed at the sheer size of the Rudavin palace, its rainbow of colours glittering in the morning light. The paintings and newscast pictures he’d seen of it did not do it justice. Who on Tellus needed a building that big? The king only had two children, but could probably fit three hundred in a palace like that. It was beautiful, but an incredible waste of space and resources.
Drawing closer to the city, Aleks was surprised by the quietness. The roads were wide and paved with dark stone, and several people were leading horses, pulling carts full of goods and going about their business. But no one waved to a friend across the street, or stopped to chat about the weather and other such trivialities. There were no street vendors loudly proclaiming their wares, no children laughing. It was a very sombre city, and it was eerie.
Dropping to the ground with near silent feet, Aleks kept a tight hand on Quicksilver’s reins as he led the dappled grey gelding through the city. Even his horse noticed the strange atmosphere, his pale ears flat to his head and his movements jerky. Aleks followed the wide street that seemed to be heading in the direction of the palace, ducking out of other people’s way and hoping he didn’t draw attention to himself. The walk felt endless; he could have walked from one end of his village to the other and back about nine times and gone the same distance. His pulse thudded in his ears and his palms grew damp inside his gloves, but he kept his stride as confident as he could, trying to channel Maxim. His eldest brother wouldn’t let anyone intimidate him.
The closer he got to the palace, Aleks began to notice blue-uniformed guards marching in pairs through the streets, guns clearly displayed at their hips. They didn’t seem to be doing anything but patrolling, but their mere presence was daunting. Aleks tried to imagine himself in the stiff cobalt uniform, his messy black hair cropped short, back straight and marching in time with someone else’s stride. It was a strange mental image, and it would take him a little while to grow accustomed to the real thing, should he get that far.
Walking past what seemed to be a large hospital with yet more guards surrounding it, Aleks found himself in the huge stretch of empty cobbled courtyard in front of the palace gates. Tugging Quicksilver to a halt, he eyed the gleaming multi-coloured panels of the palace walls in amazement. He couldn’t imagine even beginning to build such a structure, and that it had been conceived three and a half centuries ago and still stood strong made it all the more incredible.
The palace probably covered more ground than the entire forest back home, going up at least seven storeys by his count, with neat square windows dotting the colourful façade. The boundary fence was over twice his height and crowned by painful-looking steel spikes. Wrought into the main gate was the Rudavin family crest, jewels embedded into the eyes of the eagle about to take flight, the dark metal feathers of its wings so realistic it took Aleks’s breath away. The inner courtyard was full of soldiers running drills, the wooden practice rifles clutched as carefully as if they were the real thing, every single person completely in time with the others. It was like watching a machine of flesh and blood, each person one part of a whole, and the thought turned his stomach a little as he was reminded of the Anglyan newscasts of only a few years ago. That fateful day when images of massacre and destruction appeared on their screens with no warning, narrated by the voice of a young girl who would go on to become the queen. Aleks was twelve, but he’d been glued to the screen in horror even then.
He noticed
several guards staring at him. He steeled himself and headed for the nearest one with the stripes of a commander. The man was standing to attention, though still managed to give him a dirty look with his otherwise impassive face. ‘I want to enlist,’ Aleks declared, wishing his voice would stop shaking. He heard a brief laugh before the culprit was silenced. One of the commander’s pale blond eyebrows rose.
‘What makes you think I can help you with that, boy?’ he asked. Aleks shrugged.
‘You’re a commander. You have the rank to sign me up,’ he explained simply. ‘I wish to enlist in the military. Am I speaking to the right person, or do I need to go elsewhere?’
‘Where are you from?’ the commander asked, ignoring his question. ‘And how old are you, brat?’
‘I’m seventeen,’ Aleks told him, bristling slightly at the condescending tone. ‘And I’m from Baysar, out West.’ The commander’s other eyebrow rose to join the first, and he folded his arms over his chest, tilting his chin to look down at Aleks.
‘Never heard of it. A Western lad? I should’ve known, with that horse. Why would a kid like you come all the way out here to enlist? You should be on a farm.’ Another laugh broke out, and Aleks flushed angrily.
‘Does it matter? I want to join the military – my motivations are my own. Now can you help me, or do I need to go elsewhere?’ he repeated, holding his ground. He didn’t want to look weak before he’d even started.
‘No, I can help you,’ the commander informed him, glancing to his side. ‘Private Yanev, watch my position. You, boy, come with me.’ One of the younger soldiers jumped to take up the commander’s position as he left his post, catching Aleks by the scruff of the neck and pushing him towards one of the guard buildings set into the perimeter fence. ‘A fine stallion you have there, brat. Did you steal him?’
‘Gelding,’ Aleks corrected sharply, blue eyes flashing. ‘And no. I raised and broke him myself. I shan’t part with him.’
The commander looked amused at his answer. ‘Mounted infantry, then?’ Aleks’s step faltered for a moment; he hadn’t thought past getting enlisted. ‘Mounted will be the only way you’ll get to keep your horse.’
‘Then yes,’ Aleks agreed instantly. ‘What does that entail?’
‘Basic training with the rest of the cadets, with separate training in horseback combat and the appropriate care of a military horse. He’ll need to be vetted too to make sure he’s up to scratch. But if you rode him all the way from the West, I can’t see that being a problem. Good thing he’s already gelded; makes them easier to control.’ Aleks reluctantly handed Quicksilver’s reins to the guard posted outside the building, following the commander inside.
The man gestured to the seat opposite the desk. ‘Why are you here, lad? Not every day we have them as young as you, or from so far away. Usually the only Westerners signing up are the court-assigned enlistments,’ he added with a vicious smirk beneath his neat moustache. Aleks grimaced; everyone knew that felons were given the choice between punishment or forced conscription, depending on their crime.
‘I want to serve my king,’ he said, making the commander laugh sharply.
‘Try the other leg,’ he retorted, perching on the edge of the desk rather than taking a seat himself. Reaching into a drawer, he pulled out a sheaf of papers.
‘I also want to get out of the shadow of my older brothers,’ said Aleks, bringing a satisfied look to the man’s face.
‘Much better,’ he murmured. Aleks expected a further remark, but the commander merely thrust the papers at him, offering a pen from his uniform pocket. ‘Fill those out. We’ll put you and your horse up for the night and start on induction tomorrow.’
Aleks glanced down at the papers. It was all standard information: name, date of birth, place of birth, parents’ names. It went on to ask about previous experience with firearms, blades and heavy machinery, as well as family medical history, school grades and then what seemed like a hundred other questions Aleks didn’t know the relevance of but answered anyway.
When he was sure he had answered everything, he passed the papers back to the commander, who skimmed over the first page, then nodded in approval. ‘Last chance to back out, lad,’ he declared, reaching for his stamp. Aleks only flinched a fraction when the stamp was slammed against his forms, officially accepting him into the Siberene military. No going back now.
Now: Rensav
Aleks snapped to attention as the lieutenant marched him through the lines of squat concrete barracks towards an imposing stone building with a large blue four-point star over the door: the hospital. Not breakfast, then.
Nearly tripping over his loose laces on his way upstairs, Aleks tried to keep up the best he could, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass himself on the first day. Or worse, fail his induction. Shulga rapped sharply on a door bearing the nameplate Dr Anrep in brass. It opened to reveal a weedy little man with a narrow face and high cheekbones, his expression like he’d smelled something particularly foul. He looked past the lieutenant to Aleks, who tried to stare back nonchalantly. ‘Is this him?’ the doctor asked. Shulga nodded. ‘Young, isn’t he? Bring him in, then.’
Shulga’s large hand shoved Aleks’s shoulder, pushing him through the door, then cuffed him round the ear. ‘Do as you’re told and you’ll get fed after your physical. If we feel gracious enough,’ he taunted, turning on his heel and walking away before Aleks could respond. Left alone with the unpleasant-looking doctor, Aleks felt his stomach turn to stone.
The medical exam was, in one word, traumatising. After making him strip to his undershorts, the doctor had examined every inch of Aleks’s body, making snide remarks about his lithe frame. Aleks merely closed his eyes, praying desperately for it to end soon.
Finally, Anrep told him to put his clothes back on. Only then was Aleks allowed to eat, a tray having been brought up by an errand boy. It was just oatcakes and fish stew, but to his painfully empty stomach it may as well have been nectar of the gods.
Wolfing the food down, he gratefully accepted the chipped mug of water offered to him by the doctor, nearly choking on it when the door swung open. Trying to both swallow his mouthful and stand to attention, he succeeded in neither, doubling over as he coughed and spilled water all down his front. When he straightened up, still coughing, Shulga was eyeing him disparagingly. ‘Gods, we’ve got another imbecile,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Come, boy.’ Aleks followed obediently, cheeks red.
The next stop on their apparently busy schedule was to get his hair cut short, then off to the training ground, where Aleks could see the day had already started for his fellow cadets. Shulga took him towards what seemed to be an obstacle course, and Aleks’s stomach churned with nerves. The course spanned the entire field, full of mud pits and high walls and climbing ropes, as well as plenty of things Aleks didn’t recognise. He could see a small group of cadets who looked like they had just finished, covered in mud and practically crawling they were so exhausted. How well he performed would likely decide his fate.
Moustache twitching, the lieutenant patted him hard on the shoulder, forcing his knees to buckle slightly. ‘Time to put you through your paces, brat,’ he declared with a slimy chuckle. ‘Let’s see what you’re made of.’
2
The Previous Day: Rensav
Enlistment forms filed, the commander led Aleks back outside, where the private was still standing with Quicksilver, back straight.
‘Take the brat’s horse to the mounted infantry cadets’ stables, then put his saddlebag in barracks twelve.’ The Private saluted, hurrying off to do as he was bid, and Aleks felt a stab of panic as he watched his horse being led away from him.
‘We’ll get you a physical and a fitness test tomorrow,’ said the commander. ‘Curfew is at nine, lights out and in bed at ten, no exceptions. You’ll eat, sleep, train, shower, spend every waking moment with the men in your unit, and you’ll like it.’ He reached out, pulling Aleks’s hat off his head, and frowned. ‘You’ll need a haircut too. No unifo
rm until you’ve completed basic training, but I’ll have one of the privates bring you some training clothes.’ Aleks smiled at that, pleased with the prospect of wearing clothes that hadn’t spent the past four days screwed up in his bag. ‘And, of course, you won’t earn a wage until you get your rank,’ the commander told him, holding open the door to a large concrete building with a sign declaring it the Siberene Military Headquarters.
Everywhere around the building was fenced off, and Aleks assumed he was stepping into the army training ground. It surprised him how much of the city was taken up by military buildings; he’d seen the perimeter fence when he’d walked in, and it practically bisected the city. He couldn’t help but wonder if that would change once the tunnel trains were up and running through the mountains; people from all over would head South to see the palace, and they’d definitely get a surprise once they reached the city.
His footsteps echoed in the narrow hallways of the building as he followed the commander, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting around in interest. The walls were covered with portraits of men in uniform and paintings of battle scenes, interspersed with large portraits of King Andrei looking proud and regal. Medals in cases sat on shelves and, as they entered a large room, Aleks saw a Rudavin flag spanning most of the back wall. ‘This way, brat.’ The commander led him back outside through a side door, and suddenly the world was a very different place.
Squat grey barracks lined the muddy road ahead, set in neat rows like the benches in a temple. Beyond that, Aleks could see some bigger, nicer-looking buildings that were probably for the higher-ranked officers, and then there was nothing but stretches of white snowgrass, turned brown in places with churned mud. The commander made a beeline for a barracks building set three rows from the front, knocking twice before opening the door. He led Aleks inside, the boy’s heart racing as he saw all the men lined up at the ends of their beds, clearly having just jumped to attention at the commander’s entrance. They all looked remarkably similar, dressed in their training clothes with identical haircuts and clean-shaven faces. The age range surprised him; some looked even younger than he was, despite the age limit supposedly being seventeen, and others looked almost forty. Aleks wondered if they were felons who had chosen conscription.
