The Cadet of Tildor Alex Lidell Read Online
The Cadet of
TILDOR
ALEX LIDELL
DIAL BOOKS
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Copyright © 2013 by Alex Lidell
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Lidell, Alex.
The Cadet of Tildor / by Alex Lidell. p. cm.
Summary: At the University of Tildor, the grooming ground for elite soldiers, Buck Renee de Wintertime struggles to keep up with her male peers, just when her mentor is kidnapped to fight in illegal gladiator games, Renee and best friend Alec struggle to practice what is right in a world of crime and political intrigue.
ISBN 978-i-101-59235-9
[1. War machine cadets—Fiction. two. Military machine education—Fiction. three. Schools—Fiction. 4. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. v. Crime—Fiction. half dozen. Political corruption—Fiction. 7. Fantasy.] I. Title.
PZ7.L61613Cad 2013 Fic]—dc23 2012026612
DEDICATION
To my dive buddy, riding partner, and all-time friend
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
CHAPTER two
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
Chapter 5
CHAPTER vi
Affiliate vii
CHAPTER 8
Affiliate 9
CHAPTER ten
CHAPTER eleven
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER xiii
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER xv
CHAPTER 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Affiliate 20
Affiliate 21
Affiliate 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
Chapter 26
Affiliate 27
CHAPTER 28
Chapter 29
CHAPTER xxx
CHAPTER 31
Chapter 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
Affiliate 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Affiliate 40
CHAPTER 41
Affiliate 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
Chapter 45
Affiliate 46
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
CHAPTER ane
Lady Renee de Winter turned her back to the parlor, where her father'due south clerk counted gilt crowns into the company's waiting palm. The coins' melodic ring turned her stomach.
"Please thank my lord Tamath de Winter for his donation," the visitor said, bowing. "His generosity keeps the roads well guarded."
Renee wondered how long the man adept that sincere voice, or how her father'southward clerk tolerated the farce. For that thing, whose do good was the show for at all? Calling extortion "charity" fooled no i.
She knelt on the carpeted floor and opened her travel torso. With luck, the visiting thief would see her Academy of Tildor compatible packed inside. Once she graduated, these Family thugs would recollect twice near making their demands on the de Winter estate. Or on any other manor.
"Your pardon, my lady." The approaching maid worried her skirts, waiting until Renee shut the wooden lid. "Your father wishes for you to address the tenants tomorrow."
Renee closed her optics. He knew she was leaving for the Academy today, but as she had done at the end of every summer since turning ten. Renee wanted to protect Tildor, to serve its people and the Crown. Her father wanted her to stay dwelling house and count goats. In gods' names, they had discussed information technology—again!—over breakfast that very morning.
Claret boiled beneath her cheeks as she stalked downwards the wide hallway to her father'south study and slammed the door hard enough to topple accounts books from their shelf. "The Family's demands will only grow if you go on indulging them, my lord."
Lord Tamath dipped his pen into the inkwell and connected writing. The dark wood of his furniture matched his strict woolen tunic. "With a mere boy at present holding the throne, the danger to us doubles." His pen scratched over parchment. "It costs less to give money than to lose wagons. A fact of which you lot, of all people, should exist well aware." He didn't await upward, didn't even acknowledge the sting of his words.
10 years ago, a Family unit-rigged accident crushed a carriage carrying Renee's mother and older blood brother to a market. It would have carried Renee instead of Riley, had she non fallen off a horse that morning. The scar on her palm pressed her to honour their retentiveness; Lord Tamath honored it past feeding their killers.
"Recheck the crop figures before tomorrow, if you please," he added.
Renee took a breath to steady her vocalisation. "Past tomorrow, Father, I will be in Atham, in the Academy barracks, preparing for classes. Surely this isn't news."
He dipped his pen again, as if meeting her eyes was beneath him. "Your desire is not news, no." His curled mustache twitched. "This is." He held out a folded sail of parchment with a croaky Academy seal, his lips pressed into a taut line.
She tugged downwards her tunic, took the three paces from the door to his desk, and tried not to seem as if she reached for a poisonous ophidian.
Buck Renee de Winter,
The Academy of Tildor has reviewed your record and found that your competence in the Gainsay Arts Rail falls on the borderline of acceptable levels. As such, the Academy will scrutinize your performance in the coming year and, should we find a lack of sufficient progress, dismiss you lot from the programme. Consider this your Formal Notice of Warning.
Signatures followed the text. Renee looked abroad, her globe trembling. She trained every day. Each and every
one. And she was and so close. One last year in the University's schoolrooms and two in a field trial then she would be a Retainer of the Crown. "I volition work harder, Male parent," she said quietly. "During meals if I must. I will get stronger. You know I will."
Lord Tamath snorted. "No quantity of grooming will make a wolf from a cockroach. You're sixteen. If yous had any hopes of growing strong enough to compete with the men, y'all would have by now." He jerked the alphabetic character from her hand and nodded with satisfaction. "I have indulged this Servant of the Crown fantasy long plenty. No, you volition non attend the Academy. You will remain here, pursuing an occupation that you have some chance of not failing. I volition not have yous disgrace these estates or my name."
Renee swallowed. "The Academy does not require a father'south permission, my lord." In point of fact, the Academy was Tildor'southward sole establishment to ignore lineage. Noble or not, all cadets studied together and graduated—or not—on merit alone. A Retainer'south uniform could not be bought. "You cannot stop me from going," Renee said.
He did look upwardly and so, and the fire blazing in his eyes threatened to burn down through her. "I tin stop you from coming back." He rose, bracing his palms on the table, and spat his words at her in short, venomous breaths. "Should you ignore my wishes, do not wait a welcome here." He sat back downwardly and resumed scratching with his pen as if he had not just stuck a dagger into his daughter's life. "Either come to your senses or live with the folly of your choices. That will be all."
CHAPTER ii
Cadet Renee de Winter strode downwardly the long corridor of the Academy barracks, each pace carrying her farther from home. She trailed her fingers along the walls, enjoying their cool, uneven surface.
Hanging lanterns bathed the hall with dim, yellow light. Presently the walkway would fill with dozens of rushing cadets, future Fighter and Magistrate Servants of the Crown dressed in black uniforms with the colored trims of their career tracks; magistrate red, fighter blue. Black and bluish, yep, that fit Fighter Servant cadets well.
Every bit in any army, most of Tildor's warriors were common soldiers; uneducated weapons-bearers who'd never lead units. Officers—whose skills and studies reached beyond weapons-handling to strategy, law, mathematics, and more—were leaders.
And then there were Servants of the Crown.
A unique type of officer, a Servant attended a school—the school—the University of Tildor, instead of apprenticing in the field. The very few cadets able to endure the Academy's rigorous regime and fortunate enough to graduate formed an elite core, destined for the most vital assignments and missions. Servants were the Crown'southward champions. Equally Renee strove to exist. Would exist.
Renee took a jiff and pushed her begetter's ultimatum to the back of her heed. What was done was done, and she had at least been able to carry some coin away with her. Enough to survive the year. Many were less fortunate.
Renee halted past the well-nigh beautiful sight in the building, her proper name etched into a wooden nameplate mounted on the door. Her door. Tucking an escaped wisp of dark-brown hair behind her ear, she fumbled in i, then another pocket for the key. It had to be somewhere.
She was searching still when the door swung open up, and a tall, grinning girl allow her within. "I recognized the footsteps. No ane in their correct listen has so much free energy."
"I never claimed sanity, Sasha." Renee laughed, embracing her roommate. "Endeavor spending a summer with my lord begetter, if you lot wish to know why." She stepped inside and groaned. Books already lay scattered everywhere, a natural adventure of rooming with a magistrate cadet. Non that sharing quarters with another fighter remained an selection; the cuts had left two girls in the fighters' senior class, but the other had developed mage's Control last spring. A late bloomer. Renee did not know where the Mage Council placed the girl.
Renee maneuvered effectually a teetering pile of books and dropped her bag on her bed. "Did y'all rob the library, Sasha?"
"Beingness the Crown'due south cousin has its advantages."
"You are a corrupt abomination."
Sasha picked out a leather-bound tome and held it and so its title, Battlefields of the Seventh, was visible. "Yous practise not want this, then?"
Renee snatched the treasure from her friend's hand. The book's sparse pages aptitude under her impact. 7 years agone, the 7th'southward leader, Korish Savoy, was a fighter cadet her age. He trained in the aforementioned salle, worried almost the same exams, followed the same rules. Possibly he opened a book like this too and counted the days to the year'due south finish, to the two years of field trials, to turning 19 and graduating. Mayhap in some other 7 years, some other buck would open a book about Renee. If she made it.
A knock interrupted her musing. Her best friend loitered awkwardly in the open doorway, his hands buried in his pockets. For him, this was positively outgoing. "Alec! The door is wide open."
"Mmm. Didn't notice." He bowed to Sasha before stepping inside.
Renee ran up and hugged him, rising onto her toes to get her arms around his neck. The differences in their physiques had grown pronounced within the last year, when soft curves shaped her previously boyish body. The summer apart accentuated information technology. Resentment pricked her before she could terminate it, and her father's words bubbled in her listen like a disease. The boys grew. And she did not. Even Alec, who in one case had looked broad-eyed at her superior swordsmanship, started powering through her parries last spring.
He lifted her off the ground for a momentary hug and so retreated to hide in a corner.
Sasha smiled like a cat with a bowlful of foam. "Your new instructor will come up a calendar week tardily." She cut her gaze at the book on Renee's bed. "You may have heard of him."
Renee looked at Sasha blankly until her roommate chuckled and mouthed the name.
Savoy. Servant Commander Korish Savoy. Renee closed her optics, sending a thank-you to the gods. Her heart beat faster. At least 1 cadet would be cut subsequently midyear exams, and she would non permit it be her. If anyone could hone her skills by then, it was Tildor'due south top swordsman. "How did you detect out?"
"I have my birdies." Sasha nodded toward Battlefields. "Make certain you return that. I may have forgotten to obtain Primary Librarian'southward permission."
Alec shifted and stared at the floor.
Renee frowned at him. "What bothers you?"
He glanced upwardly, rubbing his arms. "With Savoy in accuse, everyone will exist watching us."
"Truthful." Sasha scratched the side of her nose. "Having the commander teach cadets is like, well, request the palace'south mage to Heal scraped knees. If Savoy's here, someone wanted it so."
Renee shrugged and resumed her search for the missing door cardinal. The University always pulled instructors from field duty. Even those permanently stationed at the Academy carve up their fourth dimension between instruction and other work. Headmaster Verin, a Retainer High Constable in rank, was the Crown's top armed forces advisor, while Servant Magistrate Seaborn, the cadets' favorite police teacher, regularly addressed real cases. But Sasha would look for hidden meaning if the kitchens served pudding in identify of custard. All magistrates did. The lack of a door key presented the more firsthand problem for Renee, since reporting it lost would doubtlessly trigger some official inquiry. She checked her pockets for the third time.
"I know a smith in town," Alec said quietly.
Sasha cleared her throat and rose, placing her own key on the bureau. "If you'll both excuse me, I think I will indulge in an extended bath before Lys'due south welcome address. My dear cousin the now king will exist sweating enough for all of us."
A smile tugged Renee's lips. Information technology was good to be back.
* * *
By the time Renee and Alec had copied the key, a irksome breeze cut the warm afternoon. The trees surrounding the Academy grounds rustled companionably. Within, servants scurried about the main courtyard, adding terminal touches in preparation for the Crown's speech. Curiosity tickle
d the air. King Lysian III had ascended to the throne barely two months before, following his sickly father's passing.
Earlier them, a modest boy and his canis familiaris ran circles around the belvedere at present mounted on the manicured lawn, while Guardsman Fisker, his horse-face pinched into a scowl, watched from a distance. Renee sighed. Fisker had left his position at the Academy a year ago for a new assignment every bit a Senior Guardsman in the Palace Guard—much to the delight of most cadets. The man would hunt down anyone who even thought of breaking the rules, if he could. He was likely here to safeguard the king, which meant they'd be rid of him soon. Renee sighed again, then staggered dorsum as the boy'due south domestic dog, an enormous wolf-like creature, fabricated a dash for Alec.
Alec dropped to i knee joint to greet the disaster. The habit was bound to become him bitten i solar day, merely that day stubbornly refused to come up.
"Khavi likes you." The boy, no older than viii, artsy his head, blond hair ruffling in the wind. He was xi hands tall or so, temporarily matching heights with the kneeling Alec.
"Most beasts practice," muttered Renee, staying clear of the canis familiaris's muddy paws. "The courtyard is closed for the ceremony," she said pointedly.
The boy crossed his artillery. Greenish eyes came up to run across hers. "How can grass close?"
Alec turned away in an apparent cough fit, leaving Renee to conjure a response. "What'southward your name?"
"Diam." He held out his hand. "I'yard gonna exist a page and then a cadet and then a Retainer."
"Young." Alec rose to stand abreast her but continued scratching his new furry friend'due south ear. "Few students come up earlier ten."
"Korish Savoy came at viii," Diam shot back.
Renee smiled. "Are yous our side by side Commander Savoy?"
He stood upwards straighter. "I am."
"Well, be careful, Master Savoy, because the existent 1 will soon exist hither," said Alec.
"I know. He'due south got a huge horse named Kye, who is all black and can kill a homo."
The Cadet of Tildor Alex Lidell Read Online
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