Reign of Shadows - Deborah Chester [4]
“Well, if you told him you wanted to be a soldier I’m not surprised he ignored you.”
Caelan bristled. “What’s wrong with soldiering?”
Agel threw him a scornful look. “Spend your life tramping hundreds of miles and being bullied, for what? For the chance to be speared by a heathen wearing tattoos and a breechclout?”
“I would see the world,” Caelan said, his dreams turning his gaze back to the ribbon of soldiers marching into the gloom. A trumpet sounded in the far distance, mournful and low. The sound made him shiver. “I would serve the emperor. I would have honor—”
“More honor in taking lives than in saving them?” Agel sounded genuinely horrified. “I thought you would grow out of this foolishness, but you’re worse than ever.” He threw out his arms, making his wide sleeves bell. “We are in the very place most devoted to the preservation of life, and all you can think about is killing. It’s a defilement—”
“Oh, shut up,” Caelan growled. “You sound like Master Hierst. It’s not like that. You’re twisting everything.”
“Am I? Or are you? How can you glorify a profession devoted to slaughter? Yes, in the name of the emperor,” he added scornfully as Caelan tried to protest. “And does that justify it?”
“Careful,” Caelan warned him stiffly. “You’re close to treason.”
Agel sniffed. “Your father has dedicated his life to helping people, to alleviating suffering, to saving lives whenever possible. He has honored the gods who gave him the gift of healing. What about you, Caelan? What are you going to honor? Bloodshed and pillage?”
Caelan’s face flamed hot. He had never heard Agel so cutting, so contemptuous. “You sound like you’d rather worship my father than the emperor.”
“Uncle Beva is worthy of everyone’s admiration,” Agel said. “Yours most of all.”
“I’m not like him!” Caelan cried. “I’m not ever going to be like him. I used to think you understood that. Now you sound just like everyone else.”
“I’ve grown up,” Agel said coldly. “You haven’t.”
His scorn hurt. Caelan glared at him, trying not to let it show. “You used to be on my side,” he said softly, struggling to hold his voice steady.
“I still am. If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t be out here now, risking a demerit to save you another beating.”
Caelan snorted to himself, almost wanting to laugh except it hurt too much. “There was a time when you wouldn’t have cared about demerits.”
“You’re right,” Agel said quietly, almost with pity. “I wouldn’t have cared. I would have probably raced you up here and we could have stayed out until we froze in the cold, daring each other to risk an attack of the wind spirits.
Caelan laughed. “That’s more like it.”
“But I have enough sense these days to know that’s stupid,” Agel went on, still in that same quiet voice. “I have my future to think about, and the way I want to spend my life. I’m an adult now, not a boy. I want to be a healer, because it is good work and helpful work. It gives something back to the world. I admire Uncle Beva more than anyone else I know, and I’m grateful to his kindness in seeing that I was allowed to enroll here. I’ve had to work hard and prove myself worthy of that admittance, while you—you have it as a birthright. That’s why it makes me so angry when I see you throwing your opportunity away.”
“And it makes me angry when you refuse to see my side of things,” Caelan answered. “I am not Beva. I will never be him, no matter how much everyone wants me to be. All my life I’ve had to follow around in his shadow, hearing about his skill, his gifts, his success, his fame. I’m sick of it!”
“Are you jealous of him?” Agel asked in astonishment.
“No! I’m just tired of being expected to measure up to what he is. As though anyone could ever come close to him.”
“But he’s the greatest healer in Trau.”
Caelan shut his eyes.
“More than that. His fame spreads beyond this province,” Agel said eagerly. “He could go all the way to Imperia if he chose. An appointment as court physician would be—”
“My father doesn’t want that. He’s only interested in living in