“And in a battle or patrol situation, you would have been right. You’ve a good instinct for command, Nevare.”

“Thank you,” I said awkwardly. And then, even more awkwardly, I asked him, “Is that why you suggested me for leader today?”

He met my eyes and his face was full of guilt. He blushed suddenly, his cheeks turning a hot red and then said, “No. I’d no idea that you could pull it off. I… was following an order, Nevare. From Maw. I had no idea what was coming today, but last week, as we were leaving the classroom, he pulled me aside and said, ‘A time will come when I tell you to divide in groups and choose a leader. When that time comes, you are to suggest Cadet Nevare Burvelle. Do that, and I’ll overlook the hash you made of today’s assignment. Fail to do that, and take a failing mark for today.’ I, well, I didn’t know what else to say except, ‘yes, sir’. And today, when he told the patrols to select leaders, he looked right at me. So I suggested you.”

“I don’t get it,” I said quietly. What Gord had told me was terribly upsetting but I couldn’t quite understand why. “I don’t know why he wanted you to do that. Did he think I’d be a failure, as I was, and that he could cull us all? Don’t look so horrified, Gord. You had to do it. He gave you an order. But, I wish…” I halted my own words, not sure what I wished. I was suddenly certain that neither Trist nor Spink would have seen the answer to Maw’s riddle. If, indeed, it had been a riddle. I shook my head. “I was so certain that I’d deduced what today’s test was all about. That the objective was to get the patrol across the ditch, not to build a bridge.”

“I think you were right. As soon as you said it. I was sure you were right. It made so much sense to me; if we had come across an obstacle like that on a real patrol, would we stop and build a bridge or just find a way across it?”

“We’d just cross,” I said absently. I suddenly knew what was upsetting me. I’d wanted at least one of my friends to see me as a true leader. Even Gord. I wondered suddenly if Trist had also received an order from Maw. Was that why he had given way to me so easily? I felt as if my guts had fallen to the bottom of my belly. Heavy-hearted. Was that what those words had always meant? None of my friends had ever looked at me and seen the potential for command. Because they all knew it just wasn’t there.

We walked the rest of the way in silence. I changed into my spare uniform, and decided to accept Gord’s offer of taking my other one home to have it cleaned. My bleakness was at odds with the rest of my fellows. Despite the culling still hanging over us, they seemed to have set aside their uncertainties. They were dressing for an evening out in Old Thares and excitedly discussing their plans for Dark Evening. There was to be a night market in the Grand Square, with all sorts of things for sale, at the very best prices. On the adjacent green, a circus with a sideshow had set up its tents and booths. There were acrobats and tumblers, jugglers, and wild animal tamers, and all manner of freaks in the sideshow. Everyone was putting on his best clothing and counting up his spending money. I felt a stranger like among them as I left Carneston House and started back toward Maw’s office. No one seemed to notice me leaving or wonder why I’d been summoned.

The sun had gone down behind the distant hills, its meagre warmth fleeing with the night’s arrival. The campus was a landscape of grey snow and black trees. The irregularly spaced pole lanterns made pools of feeble light; I felt I travelled from island to island, and suddenly it reminded me of my journey from column top to column top in the dream where I had first met the Tree Woman. Such a thought on Dark Evening was enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, and I shivered.

Maw was in his office adjacent to the classroom, waiting for me. The door stood ajar. I tapped and waited until he told me to come in. I entered, saluted, and remained standing and silent until he waved me into a seat. The office was as chill as the rest of the building, but Maw appeared comfortable. He set aside some papers stacked on his desk and looked up with both a sigh and a smile. “Well. Cadet Burvelle, you look a bit cleaner than when I last saw you.”

I couldn’t find a smile to match his. I felt a sense of foreboding.

“Yes, sir,” was all I said. He glanced at me, and then looked back at the papers on his desk. He tapped them a bit more into alignment and then said, “Do you remember our little talk earlier this year?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Has the idea gained any appeal for you?”

“I can’t say that is has, sir.”

He wet his lips and sighed yet again. Suddenly he leaned back in his chair and met my gaze squarely. I felt as if he had dropped a curtain between us as he said, “A man faces many difficult tasks in his life, Burvelle. And when he is given charge of promising young men, and he knows the decisions and choices he makes can affect their futures, their entire lives, well, those are the hardest choices of all. I’m sure you know from rumour that a culling is on the horizon. The cadets always know these things. I don’t know why we pretend they are secret or a surprise.”

I made no response, and after a moment he went on. “The military has changed, Burvelle. It had to. Your own father was instrumental in the first part of the change, when he supported the founding of this Academy. An Academy such as this, as a foundation for becoming an officer, says that education may be more important than bloodlines. That was a very unpopular idea, you must know. We were badly beaten in our war with Landsing. Badly. We had clung to our traditions too firmly; we deployed our men, ships, and cavalla as if we were still fighting with swords and spears and catapults. Soldier-sons were born-soldiers, we said; we thought the idea that they must be taught to fight a foolish one. And of course the soldier sons of nobles were born officers, with no need of instruction in that task. In those days, all commissions were bought or inherited. The education we gave our officers was intended more to form an attitude than to instruct in strategy. Six months of polishing and off we sent our young lieutenants. The War College! Was ever an institution so poorly named? It should have been called the Gentleman’s Club. Knowing how to critique a wine or play a good hand of cards were considered more important than knowing how to deploy a regiment across different types of terrain. So we educate you now, and we send you forth. And we see the sons of new nobles promoted over their better-bred cousins. We see common soldiers rising up through the ranks, and assuming command over nobly born soldier sons. General Brodg, named commander in the east, is the son of a common soldier. It goes against the grain, Burvelle. It rasps the sensibilities.”

I was shocked at what he was saying to me. Nevertheless, I nodded once, wondering where this was leading.

“So, we have changed,” he said, and sat back in his chair with a sigh. “And it has brought us success, at least against the plainsmen. It remains to be seen how well we would do against the Landsingers, if we were ever allowed to try. Some think we should. Some think the king wastes his time in looking east at the barren lands, and building a road that leads only to impassable mountains. Some think we should turn around and bring our forces against the Landsingers, and take back our coastal regions and our seaports.”

I was silent. He prodded me. “What do you think, Cadet Burvelle?”

“I don’t think it is my place to disagree with my king, sir. The road will go to the mountains, and eventually through them to the sea beyond.”

He nodded slowly, his mouth pursed in a sour smile. “Spoken like a true new noble’s son, Cadet. That road, that possible port, that theoretical trade, all taken together, could well enrich your family beyond your father’s wildest dreams. But what of the old nobles, who lost important holdings when King Troven’s father surrendered and ceded their coastal holdings to the Landsingers? What of the old nobles who live in genteel poverty now, deprived of the taxes that used to fund their families? Do you ever think of them?”