The Soldier Son Trilogy Bundle

by Robin Hobb

  My uncle countered with one of the “noble savage” sentiments that had been so popular of late, more, I slowly realized, to nettle my father than because he believed such nonsense. I think he was surprised when my father expressed an affection for natural people, such as the Plainsmen and even the Specks, but pointed out that unless civilization reached out to embrace and uplift them, they would likely be trampled beneath its ongoing eastward march. My father’s view was that it was better we reach and change them sooner rather than later so that they might have a chance to emulate us rather than fall victim, in ignorance, to the civilized vices that natural people were so vulnerable to.

  It was late, and despite my interest in the conversation, I was battling my heavy eyelids before my father and uncle had finished catching up with one another. My uncle did not summon his man, but himself carried a branch of candles and showed us up to our adjoining bedchambers, where he bid us good night. Our trunks were already there, and in my chamber my nightshirt was already set out across the opened bed. I was glad to disrobe and hang my garments on a chair, pull on my nightshirt, and then burrow into the soft bed. The linens smelled of sweet washing herbs, and I settled into them, certain of a deep and restful sleep.

  I was leaning over to blow out my candle when there was a soft tap-tap, simultaneous with my bedchamber door opening. I expected perhaps a servant, but certainly not a maid in her night robe and mobcap peeking in at me. “Are you awake?” she asked me eagerly.

  “So it would appear!” I replied uncomfortably.

  A smile spread over her face. “Oh, good! They kept you so long, I thought you would never get to your bed.” With that she bounced into my bedchamber, shut the door behind her, and sat down on the foot of my bed. She curled her legs up under her and then demanded, “Did you bring me anything?”

  “Should I have?” I was completely taken aback by her peculiar behavior and had no idea what to expect next from her. I had heard tales of how forward maidservants were in a big city, but I had never expected to encounter such brazen behavior in my uncle’s house. She looked young to be a maidservant, but in her night robe and with her hair bundled up in a cap, it was difficult to guess her age. I wasn’t accustomed to seeing women in such garb.

  She gave a small sigh of disappointment and shook her head at me. “Probably not. Aunt Selethe sends us little presents from time to time, so I hoped perhaps you had brought one with you. But if you haven’t, I shan’t be offended.”

  “Oh. Are you Epiny Burvelle, my cousin?” Suddenly this midnight encounter had become even stranger.

  She looked at me for a moment in shock. “Well, who else did you think I might be?”

  “I’m sure I had no idea!”

  She stared at me a moment longer, perplexed, and then her mouth formed a scandalized O. She leaned closer to me and spoke in a whisper, as if she feared to be overheard. “You thought I was a wanton maid, come to warm your bed, and demanding your largesse in advance. Oh, Nevare, how depraved young men from the east must be to expect such things.”

  “I did not!” I denied hotly.

  She sat back. “Oh, don’t lie. You did so. But forget that. Now that you know that I’m your Cousin Epiny, answer my first question. Did you bring me a present?” She was eager and tactless as a child.

  “No. Well, not exactly. My mother sent presents for you and your mother and sister. But I don’t have them. My father does.”

  “Oh.” She sighed. “Then I suppose I shall have to wait until morning before I get it. So, tell me. Did you have a good journey coming here?”

  “It was good, but wearying.” I tried not to say the words too pointedly. I was very tired and this bizarre reintroduction to my cousin was straining my courtesy. She didn’t notice.

  “Did you get to ride on a jankship?”

  “Yes. Yes, we did.”

  “Oh!” She all but collapsed with jealousy. “I never have. My father says they are frivolous and dangerous and a hazard to sane navigation on the river. Last week one collided with a coal barge. Six people were lost and all the coal was spilled in the river. He says they should be outlawed, and their reckless captains clapped in irons.”

  “Really.” I made my voice flat with disinterest. I felt that her comment criticized my father and me for arriving by jankship. “I am really very tired, Cousin Epiny.”

  “Are you? Then I suppose I should let you go to sleep. You’re a bit disappointing, Cousin Nevare. I thought a boy cousin would have far more endurance than you seem to. And I thought someone from the east would have interesting things to tell.” She clambered off my bed.

  “Perhaps I do, when I’m not so tired,” I said sharply.

  “I doubt it,” she said sincerely. “You look very ordinary. And you sound as dull as my brother Hotorn. He is very concerned with his dignity, and I think that prevents him from having an interesting life. If I were a boy, and permitted to have an interesting life, I would have no dignity at all.”

  “You don’t seem to be overly burdened with it as a girl,” I pointed out to her.

  “Well, yes, I’ve discarded it as being useless to me as a girl also. But that doesn’t mean I can have an interesting life. Although I do aspire to one. I do. Good night, Nevare.” She leaned closer as if she would kiss me on the cheek, but stopped short, staring at the side of my head. “Whatever did you do to your ear?”

  “A Plains warrior cut it with his swanneck. A swanneck is a long, curving blade.” I was glad to say it. Her remark that I was ordinary had stung me sharply.

  “I know what a swanneck is, cousin.” She sounded very patronizing as she paused with her hand on the doorknob. “And you are, my cousin dear, and I will love you no matter how boring you are. So you needn’t make up wild tales about savage Plainsmen. You probably think you can easily deceive a city girl like me, but I know such stories are rubbish. I have read a great deal about the Plainsmen, and I know they are a natural and gentle folk who live in complete harmony with nature. Unlike us.” She gave yet another sigh. “Don’t tell lies to make yourself seem important, Nevare. That is such a wearying trait in a man. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “He cut my ear twice. I had to have it stitched!” I tried to tell her, but she shushed me furiously as the door closed behind her. Before her visit, I had been wearily relaxed and ready for sleep. Now, despite my fatigue, I could not drift off, even after I blew out my candle. I lay in the big soft bed and listened to the rain hitting the window glass and wondered if I was ordinary and boring. Eventually I decided that Epiny was too eccentric to even know what “ordinary” was, and thus I was able to fall asleep.

  Only my youth, I am sure, made me jolt awake at the chambermaid’s timid tap at my door early the next morning. Unthinking, I bade her come in, and then stayed where I was, blushing beneath my covers, as she fetched warm wash water and then bundled away my traveling clothes for freshening and brushing. I was greatly unaccustomed to being cared for in such a way, and even after she had left, it took me some little time before I dared venture from my bed, lest she return unannounced. When I did, I washed and dressed hastily. Habit made me tidy my room, and then I wondered if the maid would think me odd and rustic that I had spread up my bedding myself. Then I became irritated with myself that I would worry so much about what a maid might think of me. Having pushed that concern from my mind, I began to consider nervously all that my uncle had said of the Academy the night before. Had I had any more time by myself, it is likely I would have worked myself into a fine lather, but luckily for me, another knock at my door summoned me to an early breakfast with my uncle and father.

  Both were up, shaved, and neatly attired for the day despite our late night. I had expected to see my aunt and cousins at table, but there were no extra settings and my uncle made no mention of them. The help served us a hearty breakfast of kippers and a mixed grill with tea and toast. Sleep had revived my appetite, until my uncle observed, “Eat well, Nevare, for I’ve heard that a young man’s first meal
at the Academy is a hurried one. I doubt that your noon meal will please you as well as this breakfast does.”

  At his words, my appetite fled, and I asked my father, “Am I to go directly to the Academy today then, Father?”

  “We think it best that you do. Your uncle has agreed to keep Sirlofty here until such time as you are allowed to have your own mount. We’ll make one stop for a boot fitting with a cobbler Sefert recommends, and then I’ll escort you to the Academy. You’ll be a day ahead of most of the others. Perhaps it will give you a chance to settle in before your classmates arrive.”

  And so it was done. Breakfast was scarcely finished before a footman came to announce that my trunks had been loaded onto my uncle’s carriage. My uncle bade me farewell at the door and advised my father that there was to be an excellent venison roast with wild plum sauce for dinner.

  We were walking to the carriage when Epiny suddenly hastened down the steps after us. She was still in a nightgown with a robe flung over it, but now her curling brown hair was loose about her shoulders. By daylight, I estimated her to be only a few years younger than me. Yet she seemed childish when she cried out, “Nevare, Nevare, you cannot leave when you have not even said farewell!”

  “Epiny! You are much too old to be running about in your nightclothes!” my uncle rebuked her, but there was suppressed mirth in his voice, and from it I suspected that she was her father’s favorite.

  “But I must bid my cousin good luck, Father! Oh, I told you I should have stayed up last night. I knew it! Now we’ve had no time at all to talk, and I had so looked forward to doing a reading for him, to foretell his success or failure at the Academy.” She stepped back from me, lifting her hands to frame my face as if she were planning to paint my portrait. She narrowed her eyes to slits and said in a hushed voice, “Perhaps I misjudged you? How could I have thought you ordinary? Such an aura. Such a magnificent aura, twice what I’ve seen on any other man. It burns red with a man’s vigor close to your skin, but a second corona of green says you are nature’s child, and a loving son to her—”

  “And that sort of nonsense is exactly why you were not allowed to stay up to greet him! Bid him the good god’s blessing, Epiny, and then he must be on his way. Nevare cannot let a silly little girl and her play-pretend nattering delay him on an important day like this.” True impatience and perhaps a bit of embarrassment had crept into her father’s voice. I stood still as she pattered up to me, her little slippers peeping from beneath her robe. She stood on tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek and bid me godspeed. “Come to dinner soon! I regularly die of boredom here!” she whispered hastily, and then she let me go.

  “Blessings of the good god be on you, cousin,” I managed to say, and bowed again to my uncle before climbing into the carriage. Epiny stood on the steps holding her father’s hand and waving to us as the footman held the carriage door open for us. I scarcely knew what to think of her, but decided my uncle was correct to be concerned. No wonder the young woman on the jankboat had seemed so amused to find Epiny was my cousin. I felt a belated blush over that.

  My uncle’s carriage was a much grander transport than the wagon that had carried us the night before. His crest, the “old crest” of my family, gleamed on the polished wood door. There was a driver, attired in my uncle’s colors of maroon and gray, and a fine team of gray geldings with maroon touches on their harness and headstalls. My father and I climbed in and took our seats on the plush gray upholstery. There were little burgundy cushions with soft charcoal tassels in each corner of the seat and window curtains to match. I had never been inside a conveyance so fine, and despite the fact that only my father accompanied me, I sat up very straight.

  The driver cracked his whip to start the team, which made me leap in my seat. My father allowed himself a small smile and I found myself grinning back. “Don’t be so tense, son,” he counseled me gently as we set off. “Show the alertness of a fine spirit, but do not make Colonel Stiet think the Burvelle family has sent him a nervous Nellie.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied, and forced myself to sit back on the seat. The carriage rolled thunderously over the cobbled streets of Old Thares. At any other time I would have been fascinated by the sights outside the window, but today they could scarcely hold my attention. We first passed other fine houses with manicured grounds, not very different from my uncle’s domain. Beyond the well-kept walls and gates, I had glimpses of tall oaks and fine lawns, pathways and statuary. Then we wound down into the merchants’ districts, and trees and open space were left behind. Commercial establishments stood wall to wall, with residential quarters above them. We stopped at the cobbler my uncle had recommended. He made swift work of measuring my feet and promised my new boots would be delivered to my rooms at the Academy within a fortnight.

  Then we were on our way again. It was now full morning and more people were astir. Wagons of merchandise and hurrying apprentices crowded the streets, slowing the passage of our carriage. In one busy street, a clanging bell warned us of a streetcar drawn by a stout team of horses. Women in hats with extravagant feathers and men in their morning coats gazed from its open windows as they enjoyed the leisurely ride to their day’s errands. Prosperity ruled in this part of town, and I suspected that many of the folk I saw strolling the street did so only to show they had fine clothes and the leisure to display them.

  Gradually we left the heart of the town behind. The streets grew narrower and the shops smaller. Slowly the houses changed, becoming first unkempt and then decrepit. The coachman shook the reins and we went more swiftly through noisome streets past cheap taverns and houses where painted sluts lounged in the open windows. I saw a blind boy singing loudly on a corner, his begging pan at his feet. On another corner, an itinerant priest preached loudly, exhorting the straying souls of these slums to turn their minds and hearts to the next world. The coach passed them and his voice faded behind us. Somewhere a bell tolled, and then another took up the solemn telling of the morning prayer hour. My father and I bowed our heads silently.

  Finally we turned onto the river road. It was wider and better kept, and yet there again we were forced to go more slowly, for traffic of every kind flowed into it. I saw wagons full of logs freshly unloaded from the waterfront and loads of newly cut lumber. A Traveler’s wagon and his string of nags for sale fell in behind our carriage. In our turn, we followed a coal-man’s cart.

  “Have we far to go, Father?” I asked when it seemed that several days had passed in the space of one morning.

  “It’s a good drive. When they decided to build a separate school for the Academy of Cavalla, they looked for a location that offered space for horsemanship drills, as well as ready access to pasturage and water. That placed the Academy somewhat outside of Old Thares. But that, too, we considered an advantage. You young men will focus more on your studies if you are well away from the distractions and vices of the city.”

  It seemed a rebuke that he felt I must be kept away from such temptations in order to stand strong against them, and I said as much.

  My father smiled gently and shook his head. “I fear more for your companions than I do for you, Nevare. For I do not know what strength of character they bring with them, nor how they have been taught at home. But this I do know of men, both young and old. When they are in groups, they are likelier to sink to the lowest acceptable behavior rather than rise to the highest possible standards. And this is especially true if there is no strong leader holding his men firmly accountable for their behavior. You will be living among your peers, and it will become easy for you to believe that your ethics are, perhaps, provincial or outdated if the young men around you are dissolute or self-indulgent. So I caution you, beware of those who mock goodness and self-discipline. Be wise in choosing your friends. Above all, be true to what you have been taught and to the honor of your family.”

  And those were the words on his lips as our carriage left the main road and turned up the long tree-lined drive that led to the arched entry of the King�
��s Cavalla Academy.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE ACADEMY

  My father left me too soon in that place.

  The memories of that first day whirl and mingle in my mind now, for so many things happened so quickly. At the end of the long graveled drive, we passed under a stone arch that bore the inscription KING’S CAVALLA ACADEMY. Marble sculptures of mounted knights flanked the entrance. A tall wall of worked stone surrounded the property, and within it groundskeepers were at work everywhere with rakes and barrows and pruning hooks to prepare for the new term. Lush green lawns were studded with old oaks and bounded by tall laurel hedges. We stopped before the administration building, which was made of red brick and was several stories high with a white portico. Well-tended footpaths led away from it across grassy swards to classroom buildings and dormitories. To the east of the residence halls, I saw a stable and several paddocks, and beyond that, an exercise arena.

  I had only a moment to look about and get my bearings, for our driver had climbed down and opened the door for us. I followed my father out of the carriage and he instructed the driver to wait, and then led me up the steps of the imposing brick structure. Before we even reached the top of the stairs, the door swung open and a lad emerged smiling, to greet us. He could not have been more than ten years old, yet his head was cropped in a military style and he was attired in clothing that mimicked a cavalla uniform. He bowed to my father and asked in a clear voice if he could be of service.

  “Perhaps you can, young man. I have brought my son, Nevare Burvelle, to enter him into the Academy.”