"All new pages require a sponsor," Padraig haMinch, training master, informed his charges fiercely. "Again I say – who will sponsor Sandra of the Sand Runners?"
No one spoke. The pages shifted guiltily from foot to foot, shooting awkward glances at each other, but not one of them stepped forward. The girl, Sandra, appeared to shrink into the wall behind her, refusing to look anyone in the eye.
She wasn't particularly tall for a ten year old, but broad shouldered and stocky.
It was her clothes that drew people's attention. She wore not only a loose desert burnoose with the hood up, but a face veil, and a long skirt. It seemed so unlikely that such a girl would adapt to life as a page in the palace. How could she train in those clothes? Besides that, she was simply too outlandish, too different, for the pages to accept.
"I am prepared to stand here all night to find Sandra a sponsor," Lord haMinch warned them, his voice cutting through the silence. Although he might be a conservative, his exacting standards of honour and discipline insisted that Sandra should be treated exactly the same as the boys.
It was nearly ten years since Keladry of Mindelan had been knighted, and only five since a third woman, Fianora of awegyh, had completed her training. There were currently two female squires, and a single page, Jordy of Marti's Hill. The training master had expected her to sponsor the new comer. He'd always assumed there was a feeling of sisterhood between female warriors. Clearly not; Jordy was eyeing the girl with as much dislike as her class mates.
Damn them all! He thought to himself. Why did the girl come here in the first place? She was obviously no warrior; probably run home crying before the week was through.
"Very well," he sighed, after nearly half an hour of waiting. "All of the forth year pages without a younger student to sponsor will share this duty. Jordy, you will care for her until the end of the first day of training. Liam for two days after that, Roald for the next two days. Is that clear?"
A murmur of accent filled the space.
"Then go!" he ordered them angrily.
The youths fled, Jordy dragging her bewildered charge behind her. Hopefully the older pages would treat her fairly; at any rate, it was the best he could do, so he put it from his mind.