Robin Hobb - Renegade's Magic

“I wish I could go back to a life where a bird was just a bird, always,” Spink observed quietly. The baby began to cry and Epiny took the basket onto her lap and held it close.

“Oh, worst luck,” Spink said quietly.

I turned my head, baffled as to what he meant. Coming from a side street was a cavalla scout mounted on the finest horse I’d seen since I reached Gettys. It was a bay with a glossy black mane and tail and white stockings on its ramrod legs. I stared at the animal in admiration, feeling a pang for the loss of not only Sirlofty but even stolid Clove. When I glanced up at the rider, our eyes met. Scout Tiber stared at me for a moment; then his lips parted in a spare smile.

“Burvelle!” he called out in a friendly way. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” As he spoke, the bird on the rafter cawed again, a mocking shadow of his words.

I lifted my hand in faint greeting. Tiber had a moustache now. Like every scout I’d ever known, he was both in and out of uniform. He wore his hat at a rakish angle and his jacket was open at the throat, showing a bright yellow scarf. A silver earring dangled from one ear. He was fit and clear of eye and I suddenly knew that being a scout did not much disagree with him. I could have been glad for him, if only he hadn’t recognized me.

“The only man in town who’d recognize you on sight,” Spink whispered with a groan.

“You know him?” Epiny demanded.

“Only from the Academy. I never spoke to him here,” I said as quietly.

Tiber had stirred his mount to a trot and brought him alongside our rattling cart. “Good afternoon, Lieutenant Kester. Ma’am.” He greeted them both respectfully. When he doffed his hat to Epiny, I saw that his hair was nearly as long as mine. My tongue clove to the top of my dry mouth.

“Lieutenant Tiber. Lovely day.” Spink’s response was noncommittal.

“Isn’t it?” Tiber swung his glance to me. He smiled. “So, Cadet Burvelle, you’ve come east to see Gettys, have you? Only, surely it’s not ‘cadet’ anymore?”

I found my tongue. “No, sir. I’m afraid not.”

Epiny suddenly spoke for both of us. “My cousin unfortunately had to leave the Academy. For health reasons, after the plague outbreak. He’s come to stay with us for a time, to see if we can’t mend his constitution enough to allow him to enlist.”

“Enlist?” Tiber shot me a puzzled glance.

“Purchase a commission, dear,” Spink corrected her desperately in a strangled but fond voice. “Enlisting would mean that your cousin sought to be a common soldier. As a new noble’s soldier son, he would purchase a commission and enter as a lieutenant, as I did.”

“Oh, yes, I’m so bad with words!” Epiny gave a false giggle so unlike her that I expected the sky to crack.

“Ah, yes. I heard that the plague had done in many of the fellows at the Academy. Glad to see you survived. But you do look a bit pale, Burvelle,” Tiber observed socially. “When you feel up to it, look me up. I’ll be glad to show you a bit of the countryside. You were earmarked to be a scout, once, weren’t you?”

“It was suggested to me,” I said faintly, wondering how he knew.

“Well, you might come to like it. And I’m confident that some of Lieutenant Kester’s Bitter Springs water will put you right. Seems to revive plague survivors in an amazing fashion.”

“Oh, it’s worse than just lingering plague symptoms,” Epiny suddenly declared. “On his way here to visit us, he was attacked. Evil road robbers hit him on the head and stole everything he had with him. Luckily one of our troopers found him and helped us reunite with him today.”

“That so, ma’am? Well, I’d heard we’d had a few bad sorts working the road west. I’ll have to keep an eye open for them. Hope you recover quickly, Burvelle, and I hope you find Gettys to your liking. I’ll look forward to chatting with you. Pleasant day to you all.”

“Pleasant day,” I replied numbly.

And Tiber stirred his horse to a faster trot and passed us.

“Why did you say all that?” I demanded of Epiny.

“Because it was perfect! It explains why you’re poorly dressed. And it makes it seem more feasible that you’ve just arrived from the west. And thus you cannot possibly be the convicted Nevare Burv whose name so unfortunately resembles your own.” She looked to me, her face alight with hope. “Nevare, the scout is the key. Lieutenant Tiber is the door back into resuming your own life. The letters from Yaril say that your father has forgotten his quarrel with you. Go back to him, as you are now, and say you’ve found a regiment you wish to join. He’ll buy you a commission, or Yaril will find a way to do so. You could be here, living near us, rising through the ranks with Spink. Oh, Nevare, it would be a whole different life for us if you could be part of it!”

I was silent for a time, marveling at her. Then, “Do you think it would work?” I asked Spink.

“It will either work or trip us up completely.”

I thought for a moment. “I won’t give up Amzil,” I said flatly.

“Of course not!” Epiny immediately replied. “Nor will we.”

I was silent the brief distance to their home. When Spink drew the cart to a halt, I was almost disbelieving. The row of houses reminded me of the cottages my father had set up in his vain attempt to settle the Bejawi. I could see that when the row of houses had been built, they’d been well designed. But in the years since, under the onslaught of the Speck magic, they’d deteriorated. Recent work could not erase the years of neglect. Porches sagged, paint was peeling off every structure, chimney stones had tumbled off a few, and without exception the little yards in front of each house were patches of weed, rock, and dust. Two wooden boxes full of earth flanked the entry to Spink’s home, with some sort of plant pushing its way up through the soil. It was the only promise of change. Epiny flushed a bit as I stared and she said inanely, “Amzil and I have been discussing making new curtains, when the dry-goods store gets new stock.” She leaned closer to me and said, smiling, “Your sister actually sent us some lovely fabric, along with the food supplies. But we used it for dresses for the little girls.”

Then the door was flung open and the three children boiled out. “Missus, missus!” Kara shouted frantically. “Mum is very late! She still isn’t back from the market! We should go look for her.”

“Oh, my darlings, I know, I know. She’s been delayed. I’ve come home to take care of you until she gets here. Everything will be all right!”

Kara looked half a head taller than when I’d last seen her. Her dress astonished me. It was blue with a pattern of flowers, and she had a tidy little pinafore over it. Sem was dressed, as Epiny had warned me, in a suit made from cast-off uniforms. Dia, scarcely more than a baby when last I saw her, was dressed as primly as her older sister. Her blue pinafore with white ruffles matched Kara’s. Their faces were washed, their hair combed, and my heart broke when Sem looked up at Spink and said soulfully, “Thank the good god you’ve come home now, sir! I tole the girls you and the missus would come back and find out why Mum’s so late.”

“Epiny, Spink, may the good god bless you forever for what you’ve done for them,” I said quietly, and it was perhaps the most fervent prayer I’d said in my life. To see the children groomed and healthy, to see Sem standing tall like a brave little man, concerned about his sisters: could I have asked anything more of them? Tears stung my eyes. I found myself wishing that I presented a better aspect to the children as I climbed from the back of the cart. They stared at me as they would at a stranger, and quickly dismissed my presence as they clustered around Epiny, clutching at her skirts and asking, “Where’s Mummy? Will she be home soon?”