The two cadets hurried down their own way. Regis was thinking that he had never known Lew felt like that They must have been hard on him, especially Dyan. But how did he know that?
Danilo said, “I wish all the officers were like Lew. I wish he were the cadet-master, don’t you?”
Regis nodded. “I don’t think Lew would want to be cadet-master, though. And from what I’ve heard, Dyan is very serious about honor and responsibility. You heard him speak at Council.”
Danilo’s mouth twisted. “Anyhow, you don’t have to worry. Lord Dyan likes you. Everybody knows that!”
“Jealous?” Regis retorted good-naturedly.
“You’re Comyn,” Danilo said, “you get special treatment”
The words were a sudden painful reminder of the distance between them, a distance Regis had almost ceased to feel. It hurt. He said, “Dani, don’t be a fool! You mean the fact that he uses me for a partner at sword practice? That’s an honor I’d gladly change with you! If you think it’s love-pats I’m getting from him, take a look at me naked some day—you’re welcome and more than welcome to Dyan’s love-pats!”
He was completely unprepared for the dark crimson flush that flooded Danilo’s face, the sudden fierce anger as he swung around to face Regis. “What the hell do you mean by that remark?”
Regis stared at him in dismay. “Why, only that sword-practice with Lord Dyan is an honor I’d gladly do without He’s much stricter than the arms-master and he hits harder! Look at my ribs, you’ll see that I’m black and blue from shoulder to knee! What did you think I meant?”
Danilo turned away and didn’t answer directly. He only said, “We’re going to be late. We’d better run.”
Regis spent the early evening hours on street-patrol in the city with Hjalmar, the giant young Guardsman who had first tested him for swordplay. They broke up two budding brawls, hauled an obstreperous drunk to the brig, directed half a dozen lost country bumpkins to the inn where they had left their horses and gently reminded a few wandering women that harlots were restricted by law to certain districts in the city. A quiet evening in Thendara. When they returned to the Guard hall to go off duty, they fell in with Gabriel Lanart and half a dozen officers who were planning to visit a small tavern near the gates. Regis was about to withdraw when Gabriel stopped him.
“Come along with us, brother. You should see more of the city than you can from the barracks window!”
Thus urged, Regis went with the older men. The tavern was small and smoky, filled with off-duty Guardsmen. Regis sat next to Gabriel, who took the trouble to teach him the card game they were playing. It was the first time he had been in the company of older officers. Most of the time he was quiet, listening much more than he talked, but it was good to be one of the company and accepted.
It reminded him, just a little, of the summers he’d spent at Armida. It would never have occurred to Kennard or Lew or old Andres to treat the solemn and precocious boy as a child. That early acceptance among men had put him out of step, probably forever, he realized with a remote sadness, with lads his own age. Now though, and the knowledge felt as if a weight had fallen from him, he knew that he did feel at home among men. He felt as if he was drawing the first really free breaths he had drawn since his grandfather pushed him, with only a few minutes to prepare for it, into the cadets.
“You’re quiet, kinsman,” Gabriel said as they walked back together. “Have you had too much to drink? You’d better go and get some sleep. You’ll be all right tomorrow.” He said a good-natured good night and went off to his own quarters.
The night officer patrolling the court said, “You’re a few minutes late, cadet. It’s your first offense, so I won’t put you on report this time. Just don’t do it again. Lights are out in the first-year barracks; you’ll have to undress in the dark.”