Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize as belonging to Tamora
Pierce. I own the plot, and most of the Yamani characters. I don't want
to have to type this out again, so take this as applying to everything in
the story.
Keladry of Mindelan walked slowly down the austere hallways to Lord Wyldon's office, feeling like a condemned prisoner on the long walk to the gallows. She was alone, having asked her friends to stay behind and let her face this news, good or bad, by herself. The guard outside bowed expressionlessly to her then opened the door. "Page Keladry of Mindelan, my lord," he announced. She entered the office, listening as the door closed at her back, standing tensely in front of the desk.
"You sent for me, my lord," she said, holding what her friends called her 'Yamani mask' tightly in place. Lord Wyldon sighed, and turned from where he stood gazing out the window down on the practice courts below.
"Sit down, girl," he said, not harshly. Kel hesitated, then took the hard, upright chair facing his desk as he continued seriously. "I want you to listen to me. This year was the first year, the easiest year, and you have not done badly, but you have not been exceptional either."
'You think it was easy?' she asked silently. 'It wasn't your year, and you never had to do it as a probationary page and worse a girl."
"However, the other pages have done badly. I fear brawls are becoming commonplace and morale among the boys is bad. I can't allow this to continue, and the king himself is concerned at the levels of injuries." Kel glared at him, certain now he was lying at this at any rate, since the king knew that injuries came part and parcel of being a page at the palace. "I fear you are a negative influence, Mindelan, and I cannot allow you to stay or you might ruin the chances of the others."
"I can't come back?" Kel asked, trying desperately to keep her trembling voice expressionless, though she was inwardly quailing at the very unfairness of this, when it was really all Joren's fault.
"No, I wish you all the best at the convent and hope you will give up this foolish idea of becoming a warrior. You may go now, I expect you to have vacated your room by tomorrow evening."
Kel stood, her face expressionless, bowed and left. She might have seemed emotionless to Lord Wyldon, but it took great effort to maintain her mask, and she could feel tears prickling in her eyes.
As she entered the pages' wing, she saw that her friends were standing gloomily in the corridors, waiting for her. Kel's face was tight with the effort not to burst into tears. Her shoulders drooped even further when she saw them waiting, as she knew she would have to face them. Neal put an arm around her shoulder.
"Bad news?" he asked quietly. Kel nodded and he suddenly lost control of his considerable temper. He really didn't act his age, she thought absently. "That arrogant, conservative, tyrannical, oppressive STUMP!" You're the best here, Kel!" he stopped, uncertain as to how to continue. He continued quietly, "Do you want some help packing?"
"No thanks, I'd rather, rather be alone."
"If that's what you want. We're all sorry, you know. You saved our lives on the spidren hunt. You will write to us, please, won't you?" he asked, almost begging. The others stood gloomily behind him, looking devastated. Kel smiled weakly at him, looking at him regretfully and slowly shook her head. She quickly shut the door of her room, flung herself down on the bed, and cried herself out. Where would she go now? Where could she go now?
She couldn't stand the convent now. It would be torture. No weaponswork there just lessons on cooking, hairdressing and worse dresses and cosmetics. It would be stifling after the relative freedom of being a page. She knew all to well that unfortunately, she was too old for Shang, which was the place she'd most love to go. If she could have gone, she could imagine herself returning as a famed warrior in her own right and showing them all that they were wrong at that she could be a warrior. The expression on Lord Wyldon's face, the admiration of her friends and even Joren's grudging respect would be priceless. Still, maybe she could go back to Mindelan and get Anders to teach her, although she'd never be a knight, at least she'd be able to defend herself and fight. If she could fight, even if she wasn't a knight, she might be able to get a place in the Queen's Riders. Then perhaps she'd be sent back to the Yamani Islands - at least she'd never have to see the other pages again, or worse Lord Wyldon.
Maybe it would be best to go to the Yamani court. Women warriors were accepted there, take Nariko, the training master. She taught everyone from the ladies of the court to the samurai, the elite warriors who were charged with the protection of all the most important royalty, nobles and buildings.
Keladry of Mindelan walked slowly down the austere hallways to Lord Wyldon's office, feeling like a condemned prisoner on the long walk to the gallows. She was alone, having asked her friends to stay behind and let her face this news, good or bad, by herself. The guard outside bowed expressionlessly to her then opened the door. "Page Keladry of Mindelan, my lord," he announced. She entered the office, listening as the door closed at her back, standing tensely in front of the desk.
"You sent for me, my lord," she said, holding what her friends called her 'Yamani mask' tightly in place. Lord Wyldon sighed, and turned from where he stood gazing out the window down on the practice courts below.
"Sit down, girl," he said, not harshly. Kel hesitated, then took the hard, upright chair facing his desk as he continued seriously. "I want you to listen to me. This year was the first year, the easiest year, and you have not done badly, but you have not been exceptional either."
'You think it was easy?' she asked silently. 'It wasn't your year, and you never had to do it as a probationary page and worse a girl."
"However, the other pages have done badly. I fear brawls are becoming commonplace and morale among the boys is bad. I can't allow this to continue, and the king himself is concerned at the levels of injuries." Kel glared at him, certain now he was lying at this at any rate, since the king knew that injuries came part and parcel of being a page at the palace. "I fear you are a negative influence, Mindelan, and I cannot allow you to stay or you might ruin the chances of the others."
"I can't come back?" Kel asked, trying desperately to keep her trembling voice expressionless, though she was inwardly quailing at the very unfairness of this, when it was really all Joren's fault.
"No, I wish you all the best at the convent and hope you will give up this foolish idea of becoming a warrior. You may go now, I expect you to have vacated your room by tomorrow evening."
Kel stood, her face expressionless, bowed and left. She might have seemed emotionless to Lord Wyldon, but it took great effort to maintain her mask, and she could feel tears prickling in her eyes.
As she entered the pages' wing, she saw that her friends were standing gloomily in the corridors, waiting for her. Kel's face was tight with the effort not to burst into tears. Her shoulders drooped even further when she saw them waiting, as she knew she would have to face them. Neal put an arm around her shoulder.
"Bad news?" he asked quietly. Kel nodded and he suddenly lost control of his considerable temper. He really didn't act his age, she thought absently. "That arrogant, conservative, tyrannical, oppressive STUMP!" You're the best here, Kel!" he stopped, uncertain as to how to continue. He continued quietly, "Do you want some help packing?"
"No thanks, I'd rather, rather be alone."
"If that's what you want. We're all sorry, you know. You saved our lives on the spidren hunt. You will write to us, please, won't you?" he asked, almost begging. The others stood gloomily behind him, looking devastated. Kel smiled weakly at him, looking at him regretfully and slowly shook her head. She quickly shut the door of her room, flung herself down on the bed, and cried herself out. Where would she go now? Where could she go now?
She couldn't stand the convent now. It would be torture. No weaponswork there just lessons on cooking, hairdressing and worse dresses and cosmetics. It would be stifling after the relative freedom of being a page. She knew all to well that unfortunately, she was too old for Shang, which was the place she'd most love to go. If she could have gone, she could imagine herself returning as a famed warrior in her own right and showing them all that they were wrong at that she could be a warrior. The expression on Lord Wyldon's face, the admiration of her friends and even Joren's grudging respect would be priceless. Still, maybe she could go back to Mindelan and get Anders to teach her, although she'd never be a knight, at least she'd be able to defend herself and fight. If she could fight, even if she wasn't a knight, she might be able to get a place in the Queen's Riders. Then perhaps she'd be sent back to the Yamani Islands - at least she'd never have to see the other pages again, or worse Lord Wyldon.
Maybe it would be best to go to the Yamani court. Women warriors were accepted there, take Nariko, the training master. She taught everyone from the ladies of the court to the samurai, the elite warriors who were charged with the protection of all the most important royalty, nobles and buildings.