Alex Lidell - The Cadet of Tildor

Yus nodded. “The Vipers learned our route, my lord. I have redirected the remaining veesi to other networks.”

Tanil’s stomach churned. Who knew the man would obsess over losses so petty? Plus, it was Palan’s own greed at fault—if he’d granted his nephew a sustainable allowance, Tanil would not have been forced into alternatives.

The fat man frowned. “Keep at it, Yus.”

Tanil ground his teeth. This obsession was breaching all bounds. Good gods, Palan likely expended more coin on the search than he had lost in product. Uncle needed something else to worry about.

“What else?” Palan asked Yus.

“More Vipers are slithering into Atham. I have men in place to thin their numbers.”

Palan drank more water and pursed his lips. “No. They target the Crown, as the attack last week proved. So long as they stay off our assets, let them shake Lysian. They push hard enough and he shall welcome us with open arms and closed eyes. Or better yet, he’ll send troops against the Madam’s stronghold in Catar and it will cost us nothing.” Palan smiled again. “The young king does not yet realize his error in so antagonizing the Madam. Once he does, he will be desperate.”

Yus bowed low. “Yes, my lord. Might other matters impose on my lord’s attention?” His eyes shifted between Tanil and his uncle, and Tanil relished the man’s discomfort. The lieutenant was, after all, interrupting the dinner of two very important people.

“Excuse yourself.” Palan’s words singed the air.

Tanil began to smile before realizing that the order concerned him. Anger and embarrassment heated his blood. Him, the head’s next of kin, discarded like a lackey! He glared at both men, but suppressed a futile protest. Watch your step, Uncle, he thought before pulling the heavy door closed behind him.

The serving girl appeared a half hour later to tell him that his uncle wished the pleasure of his company. Tanil’s stomach growled. The steak would be cold by now. Forcing an appropriately humble expression onto his face, he reentered the dining hall. The cause of his recent exile had departed. “I wish you would permit me to remain and learn from you, Uncle.”

“You have other duties, my boy. What of your classes?”

Tanil wanted to roll his eyes. The Academy was another of the coward’s roundabout schemes. Servants of the Crown traditionally rose to prestigious posts, and Lord Palan wished to have his man fill such a role. “Savoy is a brainless sadist.”

“Who won’t flinch to fail you.” The words carried no sympathy. The cowardly lord wasn’t the one spending his evenings sore and bruised. “Do not trifle with the man.”

You want a Servant on the Family books, not me. You deal with it. “He is a risk to our work, Uncle. I want to dispense with him.”

“Out of the question.”

“I didn’t know the Family now fears Servants.” Let his uncle explain his way out of that one.

Palan tented his fingertips and laid them atop the tablecloth. “Permit me to clear your misconceptions, boy. Your task, your only task, is to enter the Service of the Crown. Should you fail in that, I will no longer have need of your . . . labors.”

Ice gripped the lining of Tanil’s stomach. “But Savoy—”

“I don’t care whether you polish the man’s boots or train until the Seven Hells freeze over. Either way, you will pass and you will graduate. And, for once in your existence, you will fulfill this task independently. The Family needs leaders, not cripples who use my influence as a crutch.” He rang for the servant girl. “Mari, pack Master Tanil’s gear. He will be returning to the Academy early.”

Tanil stared in a combination of disbelief and humiliation. Blood raced through his heart, heating and speeding. So, dear Uncle liked Savoy, did he? And to dare imply that Tanil did not work independently? That hunk of lard, chasing his tail about a sorry bushel of corn, didn’t begin to know the connections Tanil maintained.

He fingered a key in his pocket, a gift from the gods found on the opening day of school. The key would ensure his success at practical exams, but that, Tanil knew now, would not be enough to regain peace in his life. He had no intention of spending the rest of the year suffering indignities from Palan or Savoy. Those two needed to occupy themselves—and each other—elsewhere. Yes, that was it . . . Let Savoy shift his sights to the dear lord coward. Tanil just needed to figure out a way of handling the bloody dog. One bite at Rock Lake had been quite enough.

He found a smile for his uncle and pushed back the chair.

In the month following the Queen’s Day fiasco, Renee’s life reclaimed its old pattern, despite an increase in guards now patrolling the Academy grounds. She returned to the palace once to debrief with Fisker, who, as one of the first responders on the Queen’s Day scene, was charged with overseeing the investigation into the attack. The man had opened the interview with a threat—no, a promise—to see her hanged for treason for colluding with the Vipers and kept her five hours while she first disproved the accusation and then described details of the attack. Despite knowing he used the same tactic with everyone, Renee had come out trembling.

Meanwhile, more children and young men disappeared from Atham’s streets, likely snatched by Viper hands—Madam, it was said, had a taste for harvesting people and breaking them. Sasha confessed that King Lysian had now retreated a step in his aggression against the wanted Viper lords, deescalating death warrants to imprisonment.

“He bought time, but to what end?” Sasha said into the doom of unfinished homework that hung over the barracks. “Now Lord Palan is trying to take advantage of the Crown’s troubles and dwindling treasury. Yesterday he offered Lys a purse to help address ‘the Viper threat to the Crown.’ ”

Renee jerked up. “Palan runs the Family. Proof or not, you know he does. The coin is tainted.”

“Of course it’s tainted.” Sasha waved her hand. “And Lys refused it, for now. You must admit, though, it was a wise move on Palan’s part. The Crown could never accept a bribe from a crime group, but funds from a wealthy noble to help protect the Crown from Vipers, well . . . The residual benefits for the Family can almost be overlooked.”

Renee sighed. The Madam tried to bend the king to her will while Lord Palan was luring him to his. At the end, it was the same thing. She glanced at the door. Alec should have been in by now. They had homework to start on. He appeared as if summoned by the thought, his cheeks the apple-red of outside chill.

“Where were you?” she asked.

He dropped his books to feed a log into the fire. “Library.” Ignoring her frown, he found a chair and opened his journal to read Seaborn’s latest assignment, their major one of the half year. “ Analyze the facts of the case assigned and discuss whether a thief’s intentions should be taken into account before passing judgment. Twenty journal pages due in six weeks. Have you started?” he asked her.

Twenty pages. Renee winced and shot a look at Sasha. As a magistrate cadet, she would have had this course a year earlier; the archives of her mind could save them hours of work.

“All right, all right. Hold on.” Sasha pulled an old journal from her drawer and rustled through pages of her neat writing. “Here. In essence, two boys took a pair of the Crown’s prized horses for a night ride. Bandits attacked, killing one horse and severely wounding one of the riders. The surviving boy took the blame, but swore that he intended to bring the horses back. Claimed he wasn’t a thief.”

Renee snorted. “Thieves always claim they had meant to give the loot back.”