Chapter III: Decisions

"Well," Jonathan sighed, and fell into the chair. "What do you think of her, Wyldon?" Lord Wyldon grimaced

"She would break in half easily enough. Kel was solid at least." He glanced at the door. "And she has a real problem with authority. I don't think I've met a ruder child."

"Ah that," Jonathan said carelessly. "I would have acted the same if it had been my country."

Neither of them noticed as a longhaired jellicle cat put its head round the door and entered silently.

"No matter whether you would have done the same, your majesty. A knight must be loyal, and loyal she is not."

"No," the king said thoughtfully. "You can't say she isn't loyal, she just isn't loyal to me. I want to keep her here though. Did you see her? She is the kind that people rally to. Give her five years in Antitheos and she would incite her people to rebellion. If we keep her here she may grow to love it. She will make friends in our armies, create loyalties. Believe me Wyldon, she is safer here, where we have some control over her."

"Or she could stay here, learn all about us, get our military training and then, when she is a real threat, go back and be ten times more powerful." Lord Wyldon bowed his head. "But of course you're right, Sire, and I don't see her being dangerous to us in the physical sense for the present at least. It might be safer to keep her. But I will not train her to be a knight."

"Why would her father send her? She seems so delicate, not the type who could endure the training." The king paused. "Unless he has another reason for sending her, but I can't think why. She doesn't have the gift, so she can't attempt what her brother tried."

"Maybe she displeased her father and he has sent her here to die, barbarians sometimes do such things."

Jonathan shook his head.

"The Antitheans are not barbarians, five centuries ago they were the centre of civilization. Their culture is incredibly sophisticated, in some ways even more so than ours."

"You are sure she doesn't have the gift, Sire? Her father may have lied."

"No I would have felt it if she had one, and she doesn't have wild magic either. She is a mystery, but one thing is certain we can't send her back."

"Why not? She is only ten."

"Did you see the way her men looked at her when she first came? They revere her. Her people would consider it an insult to send her back, and that would inevitably start another war."

"Highness, they are weak now. They would be easy to suppress."

"No, Wyldon, starving people are incredibly dangerous. Her people have nothing to lose, and we do not want to destroy everything in Antitheos. In addition to the people, many irreplaceable things would be destroyed in another war. We've already lost so many ancient artifacts."

"I cannot train her."

The king pounded the table in frustration.

"But Wyldon, anything we do with her seems like it would cause another war. Maybe that is what Lari intended when he sent her, but that doesn't make sense. He seems to be a peace-loving man, not one to look for trouble. The only way out I can see is to train her as a knight. But go easy on her. Remember she is in the balance between war and peace."

"Sire. She will break under the strain."

"Just try to prevent war. That is our main goal, we have to keep the Antitheans under our control." Jonathan shook his head worriedly, and his eye caught sight of the cat. "What are you doing in here?" He picked it up and carried it gently to the door and placed it outside of the room. It meowed then turned and stalked off into the other direction, tail high clearly offended. Jonathan laughed, and turned to Wyldon.

"Should I call her back?"

Wyldon shrugged, and looked away.

"Who am I to contradict you, Sire?" he said resignedly. Jonathan smiled at his friend's hunched shoulders then called out into the hall.

"Zira! We have come to a decision."

Zira reentered the room. Her head was high, her eyes were clear, and as she met Jonathan's gaze, he saw that she was so stiff she was trembling.

"Zira of Antitheos," Lord Wyldon said. "We have come to the decision that you shall train to become a knight of Tortall." She looked him in the eye.

"Will I be treated just the same as the boys?" she asked, eyes hard. "No worse. No better."

"Of course," Jonathan said. Zira met his eyes, drilling into his soul, trying to uncover the lie. Finally she said.

"No you won't. You will treat me differently; differently for being a girl, differently for being royal, differently for being foreign, differently."

Jonathan looked her in the eye.

"But Zirabehti Kouré, you are different, you are royal, you are foreign, and you are a girl."

"I know, but I had hoped that you would try to see passed that."

"I can't promise the boys will," Wyldon growled.

"I don't expect them to," she said quietly, "but I had expected that the ones who lead them would have more sense than a bunch of ten-year-olds, perhaps my standards were too high."

Wyldon glared at her, but Jonathan's eyes met Wyldon's for an instant and the training master bit back the retort he had prepared.

"So you just want me to treat you like the others."

"You and the other training-masters, yes."

"We will treat you the same, as long as you work with the same amount of effort and," with added emphasis, "respect as the others." Wyldon glared. "I'm not going to do you any favors."

"You won't have to." Zira's eyes flamed as she spoke, and the king and the training master wondered what they had gotten themselves into.