Disclaimer: Tortall belongs to Tamora Pierce not me.
April 1st,
Storm Head's Peak,
Northwestern Tortall;
in the 22nd year of the reign of
King Jonathan the IV and Thayet, his Queen
461 H.E. (Human Era)
Chapter 3, Birthday
Linnorria paced around her room with nervous energy; today was her 12th birthday. She had no right to be up so early, it being only 5:30 a.m. The sun wouldn't rise for another hour at least. But Linya couldn't help herself. 'Oh, what's going to happen today,' she thought worriedly. She knew she shouldn't trust Rosemary's teasing words but they were hard to keep out of her mind. "You don't have to worry about your birthday," she had mockingly said. "You won't get anything. I'll be surprised if mother and father even remember it." Linya had wanted to tell her she was wrong. But she hadn't been able to bring herself to do it. 'What if it's true? What if they did forget?' she thought while she paced.
"But they couldn't forget you. You're much too noticeable to be forgotten. Way too much. Besides you're their second child. Get a grip. Rosemary was just being nasty." she reassured herself in a mutter. "Just calm down and stop thinking about it."
Linnorria went to her bookshelf and pulled out a rather new-looking but used book. Battles and Conflicts in the Immortals War the title read. It was Linya's favorite book. She had gotten it on her last birthday. She smiled at the memory. She had gotten this book and a bow last year. "See Rosemary, they will be prepared. They sure were last year," she stated to her absent sister. Then she lay down on the bed and started rereading it for the sixth time.
An hour and several chapters later Linya was feeling much better. She had decided that Rosemary's ranting was not worthy of her notice. Since it was prone not to have any factual basis. Besides not only was today her birthday but it was the feast of the Trickster. Though not a widely celebrated holiday, it could still be fun. Today was the day you could play tricks on others and say "Trickster smiles."
They were expecting visitors. That's why Linya had been worried. They were supposed to arrive around 10:00 this morning. A "Roland" from a fief called Gray Marshes said he was coming as a formal visit, a get to know your neighbor thing. But Linnoria knew better. He was around 20 and heir to his fief; he was coming to see Rosemary. Rosy may have been mean to her little sister but she didn't look that bad.
"Why do they have to come on my birthday. Aren't birthdays supposed to be fun? Rosemary will be flirting like crazy in hope of getting an heir as a husband. And that qualifies as sickening, not as fun." Linya muttered to herself as she went downstairs. Her family wasn't up yet but some of the kitchen staff was. She could already smell the preparations for breakfast. Linya went in and helped herself to some bread that had been baked yesterday. She ate it as she walked to see Firemane.
When she reached the stables she took a large breath. She never understood why some people complained about the smell. The horses smelled wonderful to her. The grooms were just rising and were beginning their chores. Linya went straight to the grain-room and got a bucket of oats. She always cared for Firemane by herself. When she got to the stall Firemane nickered a greeting, she wasn't sure if it was for the grain or herself. "Hey there, little brother. How are you doing today?" she asked the horse as she poured the contents of her bucket into the feeding bin in his stall. She stayed a minute watching him eat and petting his cheek then went to the tack room for a brush.
She walked into the familiar room, going around the new saddle in the center of the floor to where the brushes were kept. "What new saddle?" Linya said when her brain caught up with what her eyes were seeing. She went over and examined it. I t was made with a tough leather, for endurance rather than beauty. There were also reins and three saddlebags, one of which was full of several useful things. "I told you so Rosemary, I told you," Linya whispered as she hugged the saddle to herself. Then she grabbed the brush and saddle and rushed back to Firemane.
Linnorria had worked with Firemane for two hours, but all she had succeeded in doing was mounting. "Well at least I got that far," she muttered to herself as she rubbed herself. Firemane had proved to be very curious whenever something was put on his back. She had had to put it on 15 times before she was able to get him to hold still long enough to even try it get the reins on him. He had kept trying to see what was on his back and had started circling in his stall.
But now it was time for Linya's staff lessons. She wondered which guard she'd be working with today, hoping it was Liam. He was about 30 but Linya had never asked his actual age. She liked him because he never tried to go easy on her or told her to give up; he simply told her what she was doing wrong and how to fix it. But when Linya got to the practice yard she found it wasn't him, but rather it was Reotar. He wasn't to bad, he had given up telling her she shouldn't be doing this and got on with the lesson. He handed her staff and said, "You're late today. I'd thought you'd finally given up."
"I'll never give up," Linnorria told him coldly as she placed her hands. "And you best show at least a little respect to me Reator. I want you to tell me what I'm doing wrong with my staff work, but otherwise keep your opinions to yourself."
"Yes milady. Okay, let's work on your high block today. I noticed last time that your grip…" and so it continue.
Linnorria looked up, startled, when the bells rang. "Our visitors must be here," she commented.
"Will you be going to meet them milady?" asked Reotar, lowering his staff.
"No, I'll meet them at Midday. I see no reason why my lessons should be interrupted. Reator sighed like he had hoped she would say "yes" and only just managed to parry a blow aimed at his legs.
Miasma watched with interest as the girl had her fingers hit with her opponent's staff. She supposed this was a practice session, but she wondered why this girl would be having one.
She was visiting Storm Head's Peak with her brother from fief Gray Marshes, three days' travel south. She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Roland had come to visit Lady Rosemary, and, as usual, acting like a total fool. But Rosemary seemed to like it. Miasma's mother had made her come "Time you went someplace" but Miasma would have come anyway. She had heard Baron Ishraa and Lady Melanie had another daughter near her age. It had sparked her interest. She had never really gotten to talk to another noble girl before, her mother hadn't let her go to the convent, saying she would train her own daughter, not that Miasma had any intention to go in the first place.
Miasma had been disappointed to find that Linnorria hadn't been with the rest of her family who had greeted her brother and herself on the castle steps. She had tried to ask but nobody heard her. Instead she was shown to the room she was to be staying in and had chosen to entertain herself rather than spend another moment with her stupid brother. So Miasma had found herself wandering to the training yard in hopes that the men-at-arms here also had midmorning practice sessions. But they hadn't been there.
Instead she had found this man-at –arms and this strange girl. She had been shocked when she saw the girl. The girl wore a loose shirt, breeches, and sturdy boots. Her golden hair looked like a wild mane hanging down her back, but that wasn't the shocking thing about it. Her hair and her bright emerald eyes seemed to glow slightly. She doubted anyone else would notice it, but Miasma had the Sight. She wasn't very strong, only able to detect lies and the Gift, but she also had a keener eye than those without it did. The girl's body was slight, and she guessed the girl was about 5 feet 3 inches tall. But she didn't detect any Gift; the girl had something unlike anything she had ever seen before.
But then Miasma blinked. She couldn't see that weird thing any more, but there was still something odd about her. Then the guard said, "You need to adjust your grip again milady."
Miasma jumped when she heard the guard calling this girl "milady" and finally realized that this must be the Baron's younger daughter. "Oh? Really?" Linnorria answered sarcastically. "I never would have thought it. I only have new bruises on my fingers."
"Milady if you wish to stop, be my guest." After a comment Miasma found she couldn't keep from adding one of her own. She called out before she realized she was cutting Linnorria off.
"You—" Linya started to answer but was interrupted by a new voice calling, "But she's couldn't be your guest, since she lives here. I, however, and a guest and I see no reason why you should stop. She was doing just fine."
Linya turned with a startled look. She hadn't known anyone was watching and was rather embarrassed a visitor had heard her be so rude. She saw a girl about her own age approaching. She had crow-black hair a handspan past her shoulders, and light gray eyes. She wore a shirt with big sleeves that was a dark red, and a lose, black skirt that hung to her ankles, but allowed her to move freely.
When she reached Linnorria she held out her hand and said, "Hi, sorry I interrupted you but I couldn't help myself. I'm Miasma of Gray Marshes."
Linya shook the offered hand while replying, "I'm Linnorria of Storm Head's Peak. I don't want to be rude but I need to work of my staff fighting." She held up a bruised hand, "As you can probably tell."
"I'm going to watch, if you don't mind. I like to watch fighting, even if it is only practice," Miasma told her before retreating out of the way once again.
"I'll talk to you later!" Linya called before she returned her attention to Reator. "Let's go." She wasn't able to stop thinking about the girl sitting in the shadows. She hadn't known Roland of Gray Marshes had a younger sister, or that she was coming with him. She hadn't met many other noblewomen, but she was sure Miasma wasn't exactly what you would call typical. 'Perhaps this visit won't be all bad after all,' was her last thought before she felt another bang on her already throbbing fingers. After that she concentrated wholly on the staffs.
Linya had seen Miasma leave several minutes earlier, when Reator finally told her it was time to stop for the day. "You need to go and get ready for your Midday, as do I," he had told her. Linya agreed. Though she wasn't tired, her clothes were streaked with sweat and her fingers had received enough bruises to last her a lifetime. Wordlessly she put her staff away and ran to her rooms.
One of the maids, probably Darissa, had filled her tub. Linya quickly stripped off her clothes and got in. She allowed herself to soak for several minutes, but then began scrubbing herself with soap. Fifteen minutes later a fully dressed Linya departed from her rooms feeling much better after her bath. She was wearing a pair of loose, blue breeches and a full-sleeved black shirt. She had refused to wear another dress after last Midwinter, having had a rather unpleasant experience. Her hair had been brushed and now hung neatly down her back.
She made her way down to the dinner hall where Midday was certainly being served. She made a face. She usually ate her Midday by herself over some book or just while she was wandering around. But today her parents had required her presence. But then she brightened when she remembered Miasma. 'This day might become interesting as yet,' she thought. 'After all, it is the Feast of the Trickster. Who says I can't celebrate it my way?' And with a smile on her face she entered the dining hall.
April 1st,
Storm Head's Peak,
Northwestern Tortall;
in the 22nd year of the reign of
King Jonathan the IV and Thayet, his Queen
461 H.E. (Human Era)
Chapter 3, Birthday
Linnorria paced around her room with nervous energy; today was her 12th birthday. She had no right to be up so early, it being only 5:30 a.m. The sun wouldn't rise for another hour at least. But Linya couldn't help herself. 'Oh, what's going to happen today,' she thought worriedly. She knew she shouldn't trust Rosemary's teasing words but they were hard to keep out of her mind. "You don't have to worry about your birthday," she had mockingly said. "You won't get anything. I'll be surprised if mother and father even remember it." Linya had wanted to tell her she was wrong. But she hadn't been able to bring herself to do it. 'What if it's true? What if they did forget?' she thought while she paced.
"But they couldn't forget you. You're much too noticeable to be forgotten. Way too much. Besides you're their second child. Get a grip. Rosemary was just being nasty." she reassured herself in a mutter. "Just calm down and stop thinking about it."
Linnorria went to her bookshelf and pulled out a rather new-looking but used book. Battles and Conflicts in the Immortals War the title read. It was Linya's favorite book. She had gotten it on her last birthday. She smiled at the memory. She had gotten this book and a bow last year. "See Rosemary, they will be prepared. They sure were last year," she stated to her absent sister. Then she lay down on the bed and started rereading it for the sixth time.
An hour and several chapters later Linya was feeling much better. She had decided that Rosemary's ranting was not worthy of her notice. Since it was prone not to have any factual basis. Besides not only was today her birthday but it was the feast of the Trickster. Though not a widely celebrated holiday, it could still be fun. Today was the day you could play tricks on others and say "Trickster smiles."
They were expecting visitors. That's why Linya had been worried. They were supposed to arrive around 10:00 this morning. A "Roland" from a fief called Gray Marshes said he was coming as a formal visit, a get to know your neighbor thing. But Linnoria knew better. He was around 20 and heir to his fief; he was coming to see Rosemary. Rosy may have been mean to her little sister but she didn't look that bad.
"Why do they have to come on my birthday. Aren't birthdays supposed to be fun? Rosemary will be flirting like crazy in hope of getting an heir as a husband. And that qualifies as sickening, not as fun." Linya muttered to herself as she went downstairs. Her family wasn't up yet but some of the kitchen staff was. She could already smell the preparations for breakfast. Linya went in and helped herself to some bread that had been baked yesterday. She ate it as she walked to see Firemane.
When she reached the stables she took a large breath. She never understood why some people complained about the smell. The horses smelled wonderful to her. The grooms were just rising and were beginning their chores. Linya went straight to the grain-room and got a bucket of oats. She always cared for Firemane by herself. When she got to the stall Firemane nickered a greeting, she wasn't sure if it was for the grain or herself. "Hey there, little brother. How are you doing today?" she asked the horse as she poured the contents of her bucket into the feeding bin in his stall. She stayed a minute watching him eat and petting his cheek then went to the tack room for a brush.
She walked into the familiar room, going around the new saddle in the center of the floor to where the brushes were kept. "What new saddle?" Linya said when her brain caught up with what her eyes were seeing. She went over and examined it. I t was made with a tough leather, for endurance rather than beauty. There were also reins and three saddlebags, one of which was full of several useful things. "I told you so Rosemary, I told you," Linya whispered as she hugged the saddle to herself. Then she grabbed the brush and saddle and rushed back to Firemane.
Linnorria had worked with Firemane for two hours, but all she had succeeded in doing was mounting. "Well at least I got that far," she muttered to herself as she rubbed herself. Firemane had proved to be very curious whenever something was put on his back. She had had to put it on 15 times before she was able to get him to hold still long enough to even try it get the reins on him. He had kept trying to see what was on his back and had started circling in his stall.
But now it was time for Linya's staff lessons. She wondered which guard she'd be working with today, hoping it was Liam. He was about 30 but Linya had never asked his actual age. She liked him because he never tried to go easy on her or told her to give up; he simply told her what she was doing wrong and how to fix it. But when Linya got to the practice yard she found it wasn't him, but rather it was Reotar. He wasn't to bad, he had given up telling her she shouldn't be doing this and got on with the lesson. He handed her staff and said, "You're late today. I'd thought you'd finally given up."
"I'll never give up," Linnorria told him coldly as she placed her hands. "And you best show at least a little respect to me Reator. I want you to tell me what I'm doing wrong with my staff work, but otherwise keep your opinions to yourself."
"Yes milady. Okay, let's work on your high block today. I noticed last time that your grip…" and so it continue.
Linnorria looked up, startled, when the bells rang. "Our visitors must be here," she commented.
"Will you be going to meet them milady?" asked Reotar, lowering his staff.
"No, I'll meet them at Midday. I see no reason why my lessons should be interrupted. Reator sighed like he had hoped she would say "yes" and only just managed to parry a blow aimed at his legs.
Miasma watched with interest as the girl had her fingers hit with her opponent's staff. She supposed this was a practice session, but she wondered why this girl would be having one.
She was visiting Storm Head's Peak with her brother from fief Gray Marshes, three days' travel south. She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Roland had come to visit Lady Rosemary, and, as usual, acting like a total fool. But Rosemary seemed to like it. Miasma's mother had made her come "Time you went someplace" but Miasma would have come anyway. She had heard Baron Ishraa and Lady Melanie had another daughter near her age. It had sparked her interest. She had never really gotten to talk to another noble girl before, her mother hadn't let her go to the convent, saying she would train her own daughter, not that Miasma had any intention to go in the first place.
Miasma had been disappointed to find that Linnorria hadn't been with the rest of her family who had greeted her brother and herself on the castle steps. She had tried to ask but nobody heard her. Instead she was shown to the room she was to be staying in and had chosen to entertain herself rather than spend another moment with her stupid brother. So Miasma had found herself wandering to the training yard in hopes that the men-at-arms here also had midmorning practice sessions. But they hadn't been there.
Instead she had found this man-at –arms and this strange girl. She had been shocked when she saw the girl. The girl wore a loose shirt, breeches, and sturdy boots. Her golden hair looked like a wild mane hanging down her back, but that wasn't the shocking thing about it. Her hair and her bright emerald eyes seemed to glow slightly. She doubted anyone else would notice it, but Miasma had the Sight. She wasn't very strong, only able to detect lies and the Gift, but she also had a keener eye than those without it did. The girl's body was slight, and she guessed the girl was about 5 feet 3 inches tall. But she didn't detect any Gift; the girl had something unlike anything she had ever seen before.
But then Miasma blinked. She couldn't see that weird thing any more, but there was still something odd about her. Then the guard said, "You need to adjust your grip again milady."
Miasma jumped when she heard the guard calling this girl "milady" and finally realized that this must be the Baron's younger daughter. "Oh? Really?" Linnorria answered sarcastically. "I never would have thought it. I only have new bruises on my fingers."
"Milady if you wish to stop, be my guest." After a comment Miasma found she couldn't keep from adding one of her own. She called out before she realized she was cutting Linnorria off.
"You—" Linya started to answer but was interrupted by a new voice calling, "But she's couldn't be your guest, since she lives here. I, however, and a guest and I see no reason why you should stop. She was doing just fine."
Linya turned with a startled look. She hadn't known anyone was watching and was rather embarrassed a visitor had heard her be so rude. She saw a girl about her own age approaching. She had crow-black hair a handspan past her shoulders, and light gray eyes. She wore a shirt with big sleeves that was a dark red, and a lose, black skirt that hung to her ankles, but allowed her to move freely.
When she reached Linnorria she held out her hand and said, "Hi, sorry I interrupted you but I couldn't help myself. I'm Miasma of Gray Marshes."
Linya shook the offered hand while replying, "I'm Linnorria of Storm Head's Peak. I don't want to be rude but I need to work of my staff fighting." She held up a bruised hand, "As you can probably tell."
"I'm going to watch, if you don't mind. I like to watch fighting, even if it is only practice," Miasma told her before retreating out of the way once again.
"I'll talk to you later!" Linya called before she returned her attention to Reator. "Let's go." She wasn't able to stop thinking about the girl sitting in the shadows. She hadn't known Roland of Gray Marshes had a younger sister, or that she was coming with him. She hadn't met many other noblewomen, but she was sure Miasma wasn't exactly what you would call typical. 'Perhaps this visit won't be all bad after all,' was her last thought before she felt another bang on her already throbbing fingers. After that she concentrated wholly on the staffs.
Linya had seen Miasma leave several minutes earlier, when Reator finally told her it was time to stop for the day. "You need to go and get ready for your Midday, as do I," he had told her. Linya agreed. Though she wasn't tired, her clothes were streaked with sweat and her fingers had received enough bruises to last her a lifetime. Wordlessly she put her staff away and ran to her rooms.
One of the maids, probably Darissa, had filled her tub. Linya quickly stripped off her clothes and got in. She allowed herself to soak for several minutes, but then began scrubbing herself with soap. Fifteen minutes later a fully dressed Linya departed from her rooms feeling much better after her bath. She was wearing a pair of loose, blue breeches and a full-sleeved black shirt. She had refused to wear another dress after last Midwinter, having had a rather unpleasant experience. Her hair had been brushed and now hung neatly down her back.
She made her way down to the dinner hall where Midday was certainly being served. She made a face. She usually ate her Midday by herself over some book or just while she was wandering around. But today her parents had required her presence. But then she brightened when she remembered Miasma. 'This day might become interesting as yet,' she thought. 'After all, it is the Feast of the Trickster. Who says I can't celebrate it my way?' And with a smile on her face she entered the dining hall.