In late afternoon, I recognized a lightning-scarred tree. I knew my way now. I could not explain why it had taken me so many daylight hours to cover terrain that I had obviously crossed in just a few hours the night before. Dusk was thickening when I passed from the ancient forest into the burned zone of younger trees. It was full dark, and I was grateful that it was when I finally emerged, naked, scratched, and itching, from the forest onto the bare hill of my cemetery. I was home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

AN ENVELOPE

I awoke the next morning feeling as if I had a wild and drunken night to atone for. I lay in my narrow bed, looking up at a cobweb in the corner, and tried to make sense of my life. I failed. Then I tried to remember something that I wanted above all else, and could not discover anything. That was the lowest moment I’d had in a long time. Rescuing my sister from my father’s oppression and starting a new life here seemed like a wild fantasy for an idealistic cadet in a green jacket with bright brass buttons, not something for a fat man covered with scratches and insect bites and infected with a magic he could not master.

Spink had come out to see me yesterday. He’d left a note on my table, a very formal note from Lieutenant Spinrek Kester, saying that he was extremely disappointed not to find me at my post, and that the next time he came out to the cemetery, he expected to find me at my duties. To anyone else, it would probably look stern. To me it sounded desperate and worried. I wished he hadn’t come; I wished he were not involved in what looked to be the continuing disaster of my life.

When I eventually got out of bed, I was surprised to find that it was still very early in the day. I hauled water and washed myself, dressed in my second set of clothing (much regretting the loss of my other garments), picketed Clove in fresh grazing, and generally tried to behave as if I were starting a normal day. A normal day. That was something I could set my sights on and long for. Normality.

I cut and sharpened some stakes and with what simple means I could devise, I shot a straight line for my new fence. I threw myself into that engineering project as if I were constructing some life-saving rampart rather than building a simple barrier to protect a graveyard. I was digging my third posthole before I finally confronted the reason for my glum spirits.

I had run away to the Specks and found that even among a bunch of savages, I could not prevail. I had failed. I dropped one of Kilikurra’s poles into the hole, shoved earth in around it, and held it upright as I stamped down the soil. My bruised feet protested. I missed my boots. The low shoes I wore today were broken at the sides and worn at the soles. This afternoon, I’d have to go back to the forest and find my discarded clothing and boots. I dreaded it. It seemed that now I dreaded almost everything, so it was simply one more task I had to face. I sighed, sighted down my line of stakes, and moved on to dig the next posthole.

I was digging when Ebrooks and Kesey arrived. They had walked out from town, and I did not hear them coming until they were right behind me. They both seemed subdued until Kesey blurted out, “Where were you yesterday, Nevare? Some lieutenant from supply came out here looking for you and was really upset when he couldn’t find you. We didn’t know what to tell him. At first we said you’d only been gone a little while, but he kept asking so many questions that finally we had to tell him that we hadn’t seen you all day, but that we thought you’d only been gone a short time because you didn’t often leave for very long. He went into your shack.”

“I know. He left me a note.”

“You in much trouble?” Ebrooks asked worriedly.

“Some, probably. But I’ll tell him the truth. I went into the woods and I got turned around and it took me all day to find my way home.”

A silence greeted my words. I’d expected them to accept my excuse. Instead, they exchanged glances. Ebrooks shook his head slightly and then, seeing me scowl, gestured toward the graves and said gruffly, “Kesey and me, we better get to cutting grass.”

But Kesey stood his ground. Slowly he moved his shoulders back and his chin came up. His dark eyes had always looked mournful to me, and dispirited. But today he folded his arms on his chest and bored into me with his gaze. “Nevare, I got something to say. Lots of people in the regiment don’t like you, but me, I think you’re a decent fellow, just really fat, and that shouldn’t count against you no more than me being bald or Gimper having only two toes left. It’s just how you are. Now we got an inspection coming up, and if every man don’t look good, it’s going to come down hard on all of us. Maybe you think we aren’t much of a regiment, and maybe we haven’t been since you joined us, but once we were plenty proud and a damn crack outfit. Things aren’t the best for you, I know, what with the rumors about you and that fancy woman making a big squawk that you said something dirty to her. You might think going native is a way out. You wouldn’t be the first to just walk off into those woods and never come back again. But don’t you do it, Nevare. You take some pride in what you are and who you are and you tough it out like a true-born soldier son. Nobody says it much anymore around here, but I’ll tell you this. You owe it to this regiment to be the best soldier you can be. Not just when we’re stepping smart and pretty, and we’ve got our banners flying and good days rolling along. Not just when there’s gunpowder and smoke and blood. But during times like this, when no one thinks much of us, not even ourselves, and we know we’re going to get our comeuppance from that inspection team. Even in times like this, we got to do what we can, and be soldiers like our fathers was before us. You hear me?”