“Go for it, Nevare. Take a chance,” Trist urged me in a whisper. “If no one else crosses and we do, it may be a clear enough victory to save us all from culling.”

I tried to look as if I hadn’t heard him. I made my voice as strong as I could and announced, “Sir, we are ready to cross!”

“Are you?” He looked at me oddly, and again I had that impression that he wanted to laugh out loud. “Well, I’ve been waiting for this. Nevare’s patrol, cross!” He barked it out as an order.

Spink, Oron, and I waded across the creek one final time. We did not want to stress our creation any more than we must. I suspected we would only be able to use it once before it gave way. I only hoped the good god would favour us enough to make it last that long. To that end, I lined up my men by size. Spink would go first and Gord last. I saw the decision register in Gord’s eyes, but as always, he said nothing about it.

Spink went across lightly, almost dancing from board to board. When he reached the opposite side, he sent the balance pole back to us as if it were a javelin. Oron crossed next. He was less graceful and slower. As Caleb crossed, one of our crosspieces came lose and fell to the muck below. We lost two more when Nate went across. Kort crossed without incident. When it came my turn, I waved the others to go ahead. I had decided that I would go last. My father had often told me that an officer can delegate authority but not responsibility. If I my bridge gave way, this might be my only experience of being an officer. I’d do it right.

And thus I stood on the home bank, my feet planted on top of the ropes to give them extra anchorage and told Gord, “Go ahead. It’s held so far. We have to trust our work.”

He nodded gravely to me. Beads of sweat already stood out on his brow. He took the balancing pole and stepped out onto the bridge.

I should have sent him across first, I thought to myself, when our construction was strongest and all the steps were in place. The other patrols had given up any effort to finish their constructions and had come to gape at Gord’s crossing. There were muffled snickers as he started out, for the ropes creaked and stretched under his feet. The bridge sagged sharply as he ventured further from the bank, and two of the cross pieces snapped off and flew as if flung from a slingshot.

“Nothing improves pork like hanging it for a few days!” someone gibed and I saw Gord’s ears go scarlet.

“Keep your mind on your task!” I barked at him. He gave a slight nod. He went three more steps, four, five… On the opposite bank, our entire patrol was trying to stand on the end lines to help anchor them. I could feel the lines straining under my feet. Gord stepped wide over one gap in the footboards, made it to the next one, and then suddenly, it turned under his weight. He fell badly, sprawling across the ropes and then tipping off to land face first in the muck. He gave a muffled cry as he hit, and I knew a sudden jolt of fear that he had broken his back. That pang was as sharp as my knowledge that we had failed. Failed. We’d be culled. I suddenly knew it as clearly as I knew my own name. And so I fulfilled my final task in my very brief career as an officer. I scrabbled down the muddy bank again and waded out into the slime to see if my trooper was injured.

When I reached Gord’s side, he had already managed to sit up. Mud and frost were sliding down his face. He tried to wipe it off but only smeared it more. He was groaning, but in response to my query, said he didn’t think anything was broken. I helped him stand and glanced up at Captain Maw. The man was still standing on the bank, looking down at us. As I watched him, he again glanced at the pocket watch he held flat in his palm. And suddenly I grasped it.

“Get up the bank!” I shouted at him. Gord looked at me as if I were mad. He tried to turn around and go back to our home bank. I grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled at him. “No. Get up there. We have to cross. We have to get our patrol across the creek. That was the objective. Not to build a bridge. To cross the creek!”

I’d spoken my revelation aloud. Suddenly, all the other patrols saw it as clearly as I had. They hesitated, still, for the filthy and cold water was a daunting barrier. As they did, Gord started his heavy scramble up the bank. Clumps of grass came loose in his hands, and he pulled out the roots that he grabbed. He slid back toward me. Then Spink and Rory reached their hands down to clutch at his wrists. I planted my shoulder in his ample backside and shoved as they heaved at him. His feet slid in the mud, but he moved up and then as the other cadets in my patrol seized his arms and pulled, he moved up the bank. I heard one of the shoulder seams of his uniform give and the pop of a button. Then my other troops had him. I stopped my shoving and scrabbled up beside him. We both reached the top of the opposite bank just as Maw held up his watch and called out, “Time! Stand where you are, Cadets.”

And we did, panting and bedraggled. “We’re the only ones,” Nate whispered. I moved only my eyes to confirm that what he said was so. We were the only patrol to have reached the opposite bank. The remains of our bridge hung in woeful tatters, but I had got my patrol across. I waited to hear what Maw would say to us. I needed to hear that we had done well.

“Cadets. Gather up your gear and tools, and return them to the supply room. Put the lumber near the kindling supply for the Sciences building. After that, you are dismissed for the day. I hope you enjoy your Dark Evening holiday.”

We looked at one another, trying to decide what his words meant. The patrol of Skeltzin Hall first-years looked devastated. The two old noble patrols looked apprehensive. Had they failed? As he walked away, Maw called over his shoulder, “Marks for this exercise will be posted on my door in three days. Cadet Burvelle, see me in my office. After you have cleaned yourself up, of course.”

And so my triumph was very brief. The other patrols had an easier time of gathering up their materials than we did. The bridge that had proven so frail for crossing was quite tenacious when we tried to take it down. I said little as I did most of the work of dismantling it. It was cold and dirty work, and a thankless task. I had to climb down into the ravine to get the stepping boards that had fallen. When I climbed back up, I found that only Gord was waiting for me, a coil of muddy rope slung over his shoulder. The others had already taken their share of the mess and carried it off. I pushed down a rueful smile; my ‘command’ had not even waited to be dismissed by me.

Gord and I spoke little as we walked back to Carneston House. As we drew closer to the steps, he said, “I’m going home for the Dark Evening holiday. My uncle’s family is going out to our hunting lodge near Lake Foror. It’s frozen by now, and there will be skating.”

“I hope you have a good time,” I said without interest. I wondered if I should have accepted my uncle’s invitation, then decided that a holiday with Epiny and my wrathful aunt might be more stressful than one spent alone. I now felt little inclination to go into town with the other cadets. I felt I’d failed them.

“I could take your uniform with me. We have servants, you know. They do quite a good job at cleaning things.”

He didn’t look at me as he made this offer, and for a moment I didn’t know what to reply. He took my silence for surliness, I think, for he then said, “I want to apologize, Nevare. I broke the bridge with my damnable weight. But for me, we would have crossed in good order.”

My jaw dropped and I stared at him. It had never occurred to me to blame anyone but myself for what had happened. I said so. “I thought the bridge would work for us. After most of the patrol was across, I realized I should have sent you first, when it was most intact. But at the time, it seemed more important to me to get the most men across first.”