Left to myself, I’d have said harshly, “Next time, answer to your name, cadet,” and had a word with him later in private. But if I tried to cheat them all of their fun, they’d probably take it out on Regis anyway. He’d already made himself conspicuous by coming in late and dressed like a prince. I might as well get on with it. Regis would have to get used to worse things than this in the next few weeks.
“Cadet Hastur,” I said with a sigh, “suppose you step forward where we can get a good look at you. Then if you forget your name again, we can all be ready to remind you.”
Regis stepped forward, staring blankly. “You know my name.”
There was a chorus of snickers. Zandru’s hells, was he confused enough to make it worse? I kept my voice cold and even. “It’s my business to know it, cadet, and yours to answer any question put to you by an officer. What is your name, cadet?”
He said, rapid and furious, “Regis-Rafael Felix Alar Hastur-Elhalyn!”
“Well, Regis-Rafael This-that-and-the-other, your name in the Guard hall is cadet Hastur, and I suggest you memorize your name and the proper response to your name, unless you prefer to be addressed as That’s you, blockhead.” Danilo giggled; I glared at him and he subsided. “Cadet Hastur, nobody’s going to call you Lord Regisdown here. How old are you, cadet Hastur?”
“Fifteen,” Regis said. Mentally, I swore again. If he had made the proper response this time—but how could he? No one had warned him—I could have dismissed him. Now I had to play out this farce to the very end. The look of hilarious expectancy on the faces around us infuriated me. But two hundred years of Guardsman tradition were behind it. “Fifteen what, cadet?”
“Fifteen years,” said Regis, biting on the old bait for the unwary. I sighed. Well, the other cadets had a right to their fun. Generations had conditioned them to demand it, and I gave it to them. I said wearily, “Suppose, men, you all tell cadet Hastur how old he is?”
“ Fifteen, sir,” they chorused all together, at the top of their voices. The expected uproar of laughter finally broke loose. I signaled Regis to go back to his place. The murderous glance he sent me could have killed. I didn’t blame him. For days, in fact, until somebody else did something outstandingly stupid, he’d be the butt of the barracks. I knew. I remembered a day several years ago when the name of the unlucky cadet had been Lewis-Kennard, cadet Montray, and I had, perhaps, a better excuse—never having heard my name in that form before. I haven’t heard it since either, because my father had demanded I be allowed to bear his name, Montray-Alton. As usual, he got what he wanted. That was while they were still arguing about my legitimacy. But he used the argument that it was unseemly for a cadet to bear a Terran name in the Guard, even though a bastard legally uses his mother’s name.
Finally the ceremony was over. I should turn the cadets over to the cadet-master and let him take command. No, damn it, I couldn’t do it. Not until I had urged Father to reconsider. I hadn’t wanted to command the Guards, but he had insisted and now, for better or worse, all the Guards, from the youngest cadet to the oldest veteran, were in my care. I was bound to do my best for them and, damn it, my best didn’t include Dyan Ardais as cadet-master!
I beckoned to old Domenic di Asturien. He was an experienced officer, completely trustworthy, exactly the sort of man to be in charge of the young. He had retired from active duty years ago—he was certainly in his eighties—but no one could complain of him. His family was so old that the Comyn themselves were upstarts to him. There was a joke, told in whispers, that he had once spoken of the Hasturs as “the new nobility.”
“Master, the Commander met with an accident this morning, and he has not yet informed me about his choice for cadet-master.” I crushed the staff lists in my hand as if the old man could see Dyan’s name written there and give me the lie direct. “I respectfully request you to take charge of them until he makes his wishes known.”
As I returned to my place, Dyan started to his feet. “You damned young pup, didn’t Kennard tell—” He saw curious eyes on us and dropped his voice. “Why didn’t you speak to me privately about this?”
Damn it. He knew. And I recalled that he was said to be a strong telepath, though he had been refused entry to the towers for unknown reasons, so he knew that I knew. I blanked my mind to him. There are few who can read an Alton when he’s warned. It was a severe breach of courtesy and Comyn ethics that Dyan had done so uninvited. Or was it meant to convey that he didn’t think I deserved Comyn immunity? I said frigidly, trying to be civil, “After I have consulted the Commander, Captain Ardais, I shall make his wishes known to you.”
“Damn you, the Commander has made his wishes known, and you know it,” Dyan said, his mouth hardening into a tight line. There was still time. I could pretend to discover his name on the lists. But eat dirt before the filthy he-whore from the Hellers? I turned away and said to di Asturien, “When you please, Master, you may dismiss your charges.”
“You insolent bastard, I’ll have your hide for this!”
“Bastard I may be,” I said, keeping my voice low, “but I consider it no edifying sight for two captains to quarrel in the hearing of cadets, Captain Ardais,”
He swallowed that. He was soldier enough to know it was true. As I dismissed the men, I reflected on the powerful enemy I had made. Before this, he had disliked me, but he was my father’s friend and anything belonging to a friend he would tolerate, provided it stayed in its place. Now I had gone a long way beyond his rather narrow concept of that place and he would never forgive it.
Well, I could live without his approval. But I had better lose no time in talking to Father. Dyan wouldn’t.
I found him awake and restive, swathed in bandages, his lame leg propped up. He looked haggard and flushed, and I wished I need not trouble him. “Did the call-over go well?”
“Well enough. Danilo made a good appearance,” I said, knowing he’d want to know.
“Regis was added at the last moment. Was he there?” I nodded, and Father asked, “Did Dyan turn up to take charge? He had a sleepless night too, but said he’d be there.”
I stared at him in outrage, finally bursting out, “Father! You can’t be serious! I thought it was a joke! Dyan, as cadet-master?”
“I don’t joke about the Guards,” Father said, his face hard, “and why not Dyan?”
I hesitated, then said, “Must I spell it out for you in full? Have you forgotten last year and the Vallonde youngster?”
“Hysterics,” my father said with a shrug. “You took it more seriously than it deserved. When it came to the point, Octavien refused to undergo laraninterrogation.”
“That only proves he was afraid of you,” I stormed, “nothing more! I’ve known grown men, hardened veterans, break down, accept any punishment, rather than face that ordeal! How many mature adults can undergo telepathic examination at the hands of an Alton? Octavien was fifteen!”
“You’re missing the point, Lew. The fact it, since he did not substantiate the charge, I am not officially required to take notice of it.”
“Did you happen to notice that Dyan never denied it either? He didn’t have the courage to face an Alton and lie, did he?”
Kennard sighed and tried to hoist himself up in bed. I said, “Let me help you,” but he waved me away. “Sit down, Lew, don’t stand over me like a statue of an avenging god! What makes you think he would stoop to lie, or that I have any right to ask for any details of his private life? Is your own life so pure and perfect—”
“Father, whatever I may have done for amusement before I was a grown man is completely beside the point,” I said. “I have never abused authority—”
He said coldly, “It seems you abused it when you ignored my written orders.” His voice hardened. “I told you to sit down! Lew, I don’t owe you any explanations, but since you seem to be upset about this, I’ll make it clear. The world is made as it’s made, not as you or I would like it. Dyan may not be the ideal cadet-master, but he’s asked for this post and I’m not going to refuse him.”