Shaman's Crossing (The Soldier Son Trilogy #1)

Shaman's Crossing (The Soldier Son Trilogy #1) Page 142

“I can find it easily enough,” Epiny promised. “And if you wish, I can copy out those passages for you. They might make a lovely introduction to your own soldier son journals.” She smiled at him warmly as she said this, and Spink returned her a tentative smile of his own.

When we arrived, Epiny scrambled out of the carriage ahead of even my uncle, saying over her shoulder, “I’ll see that they set an extra place for Spink at the table. I am famished, for all I ate this morning was an apple and a rasher of bacon, I was so excited to be going to pick you up.”

My uncle descended more sedately and we followed him in. A servant came to take my bag and took Spink’s worn leather case as well. My uncle directed that we should be put in adjoining rooms. He added to us, “You’ll be in the room that I had as a boy, Nevare. And your friend will be in your father’s old room. The rooms share a sitting room that used to be our schoolroom. I think a lot of our old things are still in there; you may find them amusing. I think I’ll leave you both in Epiny’s capable hands and see you at dinner. Is that agreeable?”

Of course it was, and I thanked him sincerely before we followed the servant up the stairs. I settled my things quickly and then walked through the connecting room to Spink’s chamber. I found him standing, his valise at his feet, staring around himself as if he had never seen a bedchamber before. His mouth was slightly ajar as he looked at the carved bedstead and matching wardrobe, the embroidered hangings, the heavy curtains, and the ornate and well-stocked desk. He turned to me and said, “I had no idea your family was so grand!”

I grinned. “We aren’t. My bedroom at home is far humbler than this, and a third the size, my friend. This is a lord’s house, built over generations.” I ran the toe of my boot lightly over the thick rug on the floor. “The value of this rug alone would more than equal all the furniture in my bedroom at home. But surely you have old nobility relatives of your own. Have you never visited the house your father grew up in?”

He shook his head. “They have very little to do with us. My father was given his title posthumously, you know. My uncle looked at my mother, a widow with young children, and perhaps thought that she would make too many demands of them if they offered her any help at all. So they did not. When our first overseer absconded with so much of the money, we heard that my father’s family said, ‘Well, that is what happens when a soldier’s widow tries to live like a great lady.’ Which was not the case at all, but my mother was not about to spend time and money traveling to Old Thares to prove them wrong. They live here, you know, somewhere in this city. Your uncle probably knows them. But I don’t, and I don’t think I ever will.”

I was trying to think of something to say when there was a tap on the door. Epiny walked in almost simultaneously, saying, “Well, here you both are! What is the delay?”

“Delay in what?” I asked her.

She looked at me as if I were slow and shook her head a bit. “Coming downstairs, Nevare. Dinner isn’t for hours yet, but I’ve managed something to sustain us until then. Come on.”

Her tone was imperative and she didn’t wait to see if we would obey, but simply walked out of the room. Spink looked at me and then followed her meekly. I trailed them with less grace. My cousin was embarrassing me. She was certainly old enough to behave like a lady. I wanted Spink to feel welcomed into my gracious and dignified ancestral home rather than assaulted by a spoiled little girl.

She somewhat atoned by leading us to a small room off the pantry where she had fashioned an indoor picnic for us. Dishes of cold food and napkins were set out on a bare kitchen worktable. She helped herself to a cold chicken wing with her fingers and then stood eating it, and we were only too happy to follow her example. There were also a pot of black tea, a loaf of bread, butter, jam, and little vanilla cakes. We ate without ceremony, catching the crumbs in napkins. After our months of Academy fare, the simple food was ambrosia. I had never seen a girl eat like a boy before, biting meat off bones and then wiping the grease from her lips. I had not realized how hungry I was until I started eating. Then I concentrated on it, and let Spink and Epiny do all the talking. She swiftly had the names and ages of all his siblings and a brief history of his life out of him; in short, she learned more about him in that hour than I had in all our months at the Academy.

We helped her clear away the evidence of our furtive feast and then she took us out walking in the gardens. The stables were a short stroll from there and I was very pleased to have the chance to show Spink my horse. “That is the finest animal I’ve ever seen,” he told me, his envy plain in his voice as he looked up at Sirlofty’s proud head.