Robin Hobb - The Complete Soldier Son Trilogy - Shaman’s Crossing, Forest Mage, Renegade’s Magic

Our conversation was interrupted when Caleb and Rory commandeered our table for an arm-wrestling match. Very soon we were all involved in trying our strength against our fellows. The contest between Rory and Natred quickly escalated into a wrestling match on the floor. We had not realized how rowdy we had become until the study table overturned with a crash. That sobered us, and we had righted it and resumed our seats when we heard hurried footsteps on the stairs. Seconds later our red-sashed shepherd thrust himself into our room. ‘What’s going on up here?’ Corporal Dent demanded as we came to our feet. His freckles had nearly vanished in the angry flush on his face.

‘Just some horseplay, sir,’ Natred replied after a few moments of silence. ‘Good-natured. Not a fight.’

Corporal Dent scowled. ‘I might have known,’ he muttered, as if he had been foolish to expect civilized behaviour from us. ‘Well, settle down and stop romping like boys. The men on the floors below you are trying to enjoy some peace. The lot of you had best get yourselves ready for lights-out. When the horns blow at sunrise, you’ll be expected to assemble – washed, shaved and in uniform – on the central parade ground. Don’t make me come and roust you out. You won’t be pleased by how I’ll do it.’

With that, he turned himself about smartly and marched out of our common room. As he went down the steps, over the angry clacking of his boots, we heard him fume, ‘Just my luck. Saddled with a bunch of New Noble oafs!’

We exchanged glances, some of us shocked, others puzzled as we slowly resumed our seats. Natred seemed amused, Kort offended.

‘It’s how they’ll do us,’ Rory informed us lazily. He stood, scratched his chest, and then stretched. ‘My cousin’s an Old Noble’s son. Made no difference. He said the corporals will find a reason to pick on us all, as a group. He says it’s supposed to teach us group loyalty and make us hang together, to improve as a patrol. Next couple of weeks, no matter how hard we try, they’ll ride us hard, find little things to fault us on, and hand out extra duties or make us march demerits or roust us out of our bunks in the middle of the night for nothin’. And Dent won’t be the only one. Expect some harassment from every cadet with a second-year stripe on his sleeve. In fact, tonight will probably be the last good night’s sleep we’ll get for a time. So I’m going to take advantage of it.’ He yawned hugely and then grinned at us sheepishly. ‘Country boy, me. I go to bed when the birds stop singin’.’

His yawn had set me to yawning, also. I nodded at him. ‘Me, too. It’s been a long day.’

‘No one wants to stay up for a game of dice with me?’ Trist asked invitingly. He alone seemed undaunted at Corporal Dent’s rebuke. He leaned his chair back on two legs, his arms crossed on his chest as he grinned his broad, white grin. Trist was the handsomest of us, with his hazel eyes and short thatch of curly, sandy hair. He exuded charm like a flower gives off scent. I surmised that he’d quickly become our leader, and eventually a charismatic officer. His invitation was tempting.

‘I’m in,’ Gord announced eagerly. His fat cheeks wobbled with enthusiasm.

I steeled my will and spoke into the quiet room. ‘Not me. I don’t play dice.’

I turned to go to my bed as Spink reminded Trist seriously, ‘Dice are against the rules. No cards, no dice, no games of chance allowed in the dormitories, on pain of expulsion. Didn’t you read the rule book?’

Trist nodded lazily. ‘I did. But who’s going to tell?’

I turned back slowly to the group, knowing that my honour would require me to report any breaking of the rules. I suddenly liked Trist a lot less than I had a few moments ago. I tried to find the courage to say that I would report it, that I’d have to. My mouth was dry.

Spink shook his head. He crossed his arms on his chest but it didn’t help much. He still looked small, almost childish compared to the lanky, lounging Trist. ‘You shouldn’t be putting us on the spot like this, Trist. You know we’ll be held accountable for your behaviour, even if we’re not part of it. You know that the honour code would require us to report it.’

Trist brought his chair back flat on the floor with a thump, and then stood slowly. The blond cadet towered over small, dark Spink. ‘I was just joking with you, Spink. Are you always this serious? God’s breath, what a stiff neck you are!’

Spink stood his ground, his feet slightly apart as if setting his weight for a fight. ‘And that’s blasphemy, to speak the good god’s name other than in prayer. And also against Academy rules.’

‘Your pardon, O saintly one. I’ll go to my room and make reparations now.’ Trist rolled his eyes and sauntered from the room. Spink refused to notice it or to look after him. After a moment, Oron and Gord followed him, closing the door behind them.

I felt sad at that first little crack in our unity, even though a part of me recognized it as inevitable. Sergeant Duril had spoken to me of such things, though he had been speaking from his experience in the field rather than at an Academy. Despite the differences, I recognized that his words would hold true here as well. ‘Whenever a new group forms, or an old group takes in new members … don’t matter if it’s a regiment or a patrol, nor even if it’s troopies or officers … there’ll be some shoving to see who’s first to the trough. They’ll try each other’s strength, and it’s rare that there’s not a fistfight or three before the dust finally settles. Just keep your cool and remember it’s got to be, and do your best to stay clear of it. Don’t back down, lad, that’s not what I’m saying. But hang back, calm like, and make them shove the challenge at you before you take it up. So no one ever doubts that it wasn’t you that started it. You just be the one that finishes it.’

‘Nevare?’ Kort nudged me, and I jumped. I realized I’d been staring at the closed door. ‘Forget about it,’ he advised me quietly.

I nodded. ‘I think I’m ready for bed, too,’ I excused myself. But that was sooner said than done. There was only one washstand in our room, and I had to wait my turn for it. Rory wandered into our room in a homespun nightshirt. He perched on the foot of my bed beside me and spoke quietly. ‘Think there’ll be trouble ’tween Trist and Spink?’

‘Spink won’t start it,’ I said after a moment of pondering.

‘I guess that’s right. But I’m thinking that if there’s a fight, we’ll all have to pay for it. That’s how they do things here. One screws up, we all pay the toll.’

It was my turn for the washstand, and as I stood, Rory said quietly, ‘Maybe you could talk to Spink. Tell him to take it easy until we all settle in. It’s goin’ to be bad enough with Corporal Dent chewing on us without us bitin’ each other.’

‘Maybe Trist is the one we should talk to,’ I offered.

Rory’s dark eyes met mine and he gave his bullet head a shake. ‘Na. Trist isn’t one to listen. Well. I’d best get back to my room.’

I wanted to ask him if Trist had sent him to talk to me, and wondered, too, if they were playing dice in there. Then I decided I didn’t want to know.

Shortly after that, Kort blew out the lamp and we all knelt by our beds to say our prayers. I prayed longer and more earnestly than I usually did, asking the good god to show me the middle path through strife. Then I got into my narrow bed in the darkness and tried to fall asleep listening to the breathing of the others in the room.

In the dead of night, someone was drumming. I rolled over and fell out of my bed. It was much narrower than my one at home, and this was the third time I’d fallen out of it. I groaned as I sprawled on the cold floor. I heard a door open and close and someone came into the room carrying a candle. In that instant, I was awake. I sat up wearily. ‘That can’t be the drums for dawn. It’s black as pitch out there.’