Part Five
Sagely Nuts
As it turned out, the explanation wasn't precisely logical, but it did make more sense than Ferhan's.
"What Ferhan told you was true," Tobe said after Kel had told him about the failed conversation with Mirelle. "His Lordship and Ladyship were married by King Roald to stop a feud between the Longsbridges and the Cavalls. The marriage stopped the feud, but the marriage partners never stopped feuding. The cleaning women say that Lady Mirelle picks fights with Lord Wyldon whenever he's home, and has affairs whenever he's gone."
"That's terrible! Does he know?" Kel asked.
"I dunno. If he doesn't, I wouldn't want to be the one to tell him. And because she's cheating on him, she can't imagine that he's not cheating on her." Tobe paused. "Those things you mentioned - the knife at dinner, the comments, all of them - might be 'hints,' but from what I've heard, it's more likely she's trying to provoke a reaction from Lord Wyldon. I'm sorry, Lady, you've been dragged into the middle of an absolute mess." Kel processed the latest batch of bad news.
"I hope she stops the hints, provocation, or whatever her goal is during the Tournament. If she hints that he and I are having an affair, even in jest, with all those nobles and the royal family there... He won't have a reputation left if his wife implies he's an adulterer," Kel sighed, resting her elbows on her knees and her forehead in her hands. This was a nightmare. Tobe sat down next to her on the bed and rested a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"He won't be the only one with no reputation," Tobe remarked.
"I don't have one anyway," Kel said. She sighed again and straightened. "Worrying will do no good. Lady Mirelle will stop or she won't. Thank you for the help, Tobe."
"Always, milady. Sleep well," Tobe said. He left. Kel stared out the window into the darkened courtyard in thought, then closed the shutters and went to bed. That night, Kel thanked the Goddess for her freedom to chose her mate.
Kel went to Wyldon's office the next morning with every intention of keeping silent about what she'd learned. Wyldon seemed to have other ideas.
"Did Boon tell you all the dirt?" Wyldon asked coldly as they began drawing up schedules for the judges and field monitors. The task wasn't as easy as it seemed; not all judges could competently judge all the events, and some judges were more skilled than others.
"I beg your pardon?" Kel asked, unprepared.
"It was a simple enough question."
"I... I suppose," Kel answered, uncertain. "He just told me that your marriage was arranged to stop a feud and that you two don't always get along well. It was enough to explain things some."
"What did she say to you?" Wyldon demanded, his words as blunt as his tone was glacial. "All she told me was that she had 'set you straight.' If you're upset enough to admit to gossiping, she must have said something vile." Kel looked up from her list. Though Wyldon's voice smooth, his eyes were troubled. Kel hadn't realized her disconcertion showed, nor that he would be worried by it.
"She told me that she didn't mind if," she felt her face get hot, "if you loved someone else." Wyldon's brows dipped in confusion, then raised in a demand for clarification. "Me."
Wyldon sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "I erred. I had thought that since you were a knight, Mirelle would leave you alone as she had left Owen alone. I apologize. Ignore her words as best you can, she means you no harm. And I will see that she doesn't destroy your reputation at the Tournament - she generally behaves herself in public."
"Thank you, my lord," Kel said. "If I may ask, why does she...?"
"To get a reaction from me," Wyldon said simply. "Now finish second-round Archery." After several minutes, the silence gave way to conversation often interrupted by long pauses of concentration. They stopped at lunch for egg sandwiches, then returned to work. They finished the first two days' lists before dinner. Kel used the time to visit Peachblossom and Hoshi. When she returned to her quarters, Tobe had just finished putting her laundry away.
"Thank you, Tobe," Kel said.
"Paperwork, milady?" Tobe asked, gesturing to her ink-splotched hands. "I thought you hated it."
"I do," Kel said, "but the Keep clerks are busy making signs to keep people on the roads and tallying this year's taxes. In any case, Tournament lists must be made by the tournament director and his assistants - the rules are specific." Kel washed the ink off her hands.
"All that paperwork and you don't even get paid. You can't even compete."
"No, but I can be challenged during the Free Rounds, when I'm not working. I might win some money then. I know Lord Raoul will. And the paperwork's worth it, or it will be when the Tournament's over and a success."
"Tournament or no, being stuck with my lord in a dead-silent room can't be enjoyable. You're not going to wear that," Tobe said, interrupting himself as Kel picked her fawn dress out of the armoire.
"It's not a silent room, we talk while we work. Wyldon isn't a bear, you know. And what's wrong with a dress?"
"Lady, half the servants think you're his mistress as it is. A dress would make it worse." Kel thought about it, then put the dress away.
"It's frustrating that I can't even decide what to wear without thinking about gossips' talk. Did the Lioness ever have this problem, I wonder?"
"She married the King of Thieves, milady. She was doomed from the start. Her reputation was made one conservative's defeat at a time. And it's a really bad idea to call the Goddess's champion a slut."
"True," Kel chuckled, taking her chosen outfit into the dressing room. She changed out of her horsehair-covered clothes and headed to dinner with a feeling of apprehension. She didn't want to know what disaster Mirelle had cooked up for the night. When Kel arrived, she wished she'd pleaded sick. Mirelle had left a seat open between her and Wyldon. She was gesturing for Kel to sit in it. Kel looked for another seat in the filling room, only to see Little Kel and Nadin waving frantically at her from the children's table. They were both pointing to an open seat between them.
"My lord," Kel said, approaching him, "I don't mean to be rude, but could I eat with your grandchildren tonight?"
"Yes, by all means," Wyldon said. Kel thanked him and hastened to take the proffered seat. The children within earshot were delighted. Kel spent a very enjoyable dinner in a sea of child chatter and open curiosity. For the first time since arriving in Cavall, Kel was unhappy to see the meal end.
The evening meal had been early that night due to a mishap in the kitchen. So when Nadin offered to show her the kennels, Kel agreed. Little Kel and several of the older children tagged along. Kel wasn't particularly surprised to find Wyldon already there. The dogs - elkhounds, wolfhounds, war dogs, smaller hunting dogs, and a few lady's dogs - swirled around him inside a fenced enclosure. Rows of roofed individual kennels were also inside the enclosure. Attached was a training yard, also fenced in. With all the children at the Keep, the four-foot barrier made sense. The children pointed out all the features of the kennels from each training tool, to where the food was kept, to identifying as many individual kennels as they could. Meanwhile, the pack and Wyldon had begun roughhousing gently.
"Are the dogs friendly?" Kel asked, grinning as several of the elkhounds managed to sit on Wyldon and lick his face. Deep, delighted laughter filled the cool evening air.
"The lapdogs and the hounds are," Nadin answered, "but the mastiffs and boxers aren't. War dogs are scary."
"They like Grandpa, Grandma, and the trainers, but that's it," Little Kel elucidated. "Do you want to see the puppies?"
"Can we?"
"We're allowed to see the puppies, they're kept separated from the rest of the dogs," Little Kel said, leading the way to a smaller, board fenced building several feet away from the main fenced area. Most of the kennels were empty. The first stall was occupied with a female mastiff and six two month-old puppies. The mastiff growled warningly, and Kel walked briskly on. In the third stall was a hound and her pups. The five puppies were loud and active, crawling on and playing near their mother. Kel noticed there was a small shelf encircling the kennel about eight inches off the ground. She asked her guides what it was as one of them opened the gate and darted in. He knelt and held out his hand for the to sniff. She wagged her tail, and the boy picked up a puppy.
"It's for Tippyfeet to lean against. If she leans against back and a puppy is behind her, the puppy slides into the space beneath the shelf instead of getting squished," the boy explained, handing Kel the puppy. "This is Later. He was born last, and it took him twice as long to be born as the rest of them. Grandpa was afraid he was dead, it seemed like he was at first. But he's alive."
"If he wasn't alive, she wouldn't be holding him," another boy said contemptuously. Kel hushed him and took Later. He was marvelously soft and very cute. He bayed softly at her and then began chewing on her hair. One by one the other children slowly entered the kennel and picked up puppies, always keeping the young dogs in sight of their mother. Little Kel petted the mother instead of getting a puppy.
"So she doesn't get jealous," the girl explained.
"Maybe that's Peachblossom's problem," Kel remarked wryly, "he's jealous of the other horses."
"It's a possibility," Wyldon said suddenly from the door. He swung over the gate of the mastiff's kennel, landing slowly so as not to trample the pups. The didn't growl at him. "Though he could just be a temperamental monster. Remember to be gentle," Wyldon told the children, who nodded. Wyldon disappeared from view as he knelt in the kennel. His voice could be heard murmuring softly to the dogs inside.
"Who's the third dog?" Kel asked.
"Stardust. She's a lapdog. Her puppies look like cotton balls. Grandpa doesn't like lapdogs as much as he likes working dogs, but Grandma insists," Nadin whispered. Kel nodded. Soon they put the puppies back with their mother, who immediately began washing them. They visited Stardust, who looked like a giant cotton wad herself, and her puppies. Stardust barked at them, and none of the children tried to pick up a puppy.
The children were summoned by Kida's call, but Kel stayed a little longer to watch Tippyfeet bathe her pups. The pups' cries of discontent and repeated attempts to escape were very amusing.
"Why Tippyfeet?" Kel asked when Wyldon came to check on Tippyfeet.
"She dances when music is played. Well, she prances and howls, which is close enough for a dog," Wyldon explained. Kel stayed as Wyldon checked Stardust and her pups, and was promptly drafted to assist in feeding the dogs - all of them.
After ladling dog feed into the bowl of, and being introduced to, every dog in the kennels Kel had decided Stefan's remark during her fourth year as a page had been well-founded. Other than two runts, this was the finest collection of dogs Kel had ever seen. After the dogs ate, she and Wyldon collected the dishes and put them away. Afterward, Wyldon didn't put the dogs back in their kennels, but started adjusting a small pile of straw. He took a blanket off the fence and laid it on the straw, forming a bed.
"You don't put them in their stalls?" Kel asked. Wyldon shook his head.
"Not when I sleep out here. Normally, though, I do."
"This is your 'other place to sleep,'" Kel said, recognizing the blanket. Wyldon nodded.
"It's comfortable here, and it helps the dogs bond with me."
Kel smiled, and left him to it. The dogs laid down around and on him, ensuring warmth and comfort. As Kel shut the gate, she wished for a moment she could join them.
Kel took her time with her morning exercises the following, and was consequently the last one in the door for breakfast. Today there wasn't a seat available at the children's table, so she would have to take the seat between Wyldon and Mirelle. Kel paused and Wyldon moved over a seat, leaving the head of the table open. Technically, Kel didn't have any right to sit there, but it was better than the alternative.
"It's easier for me to move than to try and convince her to," Wyldon whispered as Kel sat down. Kel nodded.
"Thank you, sir."
Mirelle wasn't happy about her plans being disrupted.
"Please pass the porridge, Stump," she said casually after the morning prayer. Kel's eyes went wide. Where had Mirelle heard that?
"I beg your pardon?" Wyldon demanded.
"I said, 'please pass the porridge, Stump.' Has your hearing deteriorated with age?" Mirelle said sharply.
"Do not call me by that name again," Wyldon said frostily, proffering the requested dish. He shot a glare to Kel. Kel shook her head, trying to communicate that Mirelle hadn't learned Neal's epithet from her.
"Don't glare at her, she didn't tell me mum. I heard it from Little Kel. And I'll call you whatever I like, Stump."
"My lady wife, I order you to cease using that name." Kel was certain frost was going to break out on the table at any point, his voice was so cold. Mirelle had struck a nerve, and she knew it.
"I'm not a soldier, Stump. You can't order me about," Mirelle replied, noticing greedily that Wyldon's eyes were a flat ebony in anger.
"You are my wife, and I can demand you address me with respect."
"What's to respect, Stump?" Mirelle asked sharply, her words compressing Wyldon's lips into a thin white line.
"Enough. We will continue this discussion in private," Wyldon said. Kel looked away. She noticed everyone else at the table was as well, talking with each other tensely and trying to pretend nothing was happening. Kel wished Stevan wanted to talk tensely, but he was watching his lord and lady with an expression of deep concern on his face.
"I don't want to continue it later, Stump."
"Then we will continue this outside," Wyldon said, tossing his napkin on the table with such force Kel could hear it hit the table.
"I'm eating breakfast," Mirelle said, eating her first spoonful of porridge. "I don't want to interrupt it for something as inconsequential as you, Stump." Wyldon said nothing. Kel stared at her food, wishing she was elsewhere, wanting desperately to leave. If they didn't stop soon Kel would leave, good manners or no. She shouldn't be hearing this.
"What's wrong, Stump, can't think of any witty repartee? Or are you just giving me the silent treatment?" Mirelle said, the nasal tone in her voice increasing to the point her words were almost a cackle. Wyldon again kept silent. "The name suits you, you know. You're cold, loveless, unyielding, and utterly uninteresting." Again, there was no response. "If you were ever human, it was ages ago, Stump." Wyldon stood, his hands shaking. Kel had never seen him so furious. She was afraid for a moment he would lose control and strike his wife. Instead, Wyldon turned and left. Kel, whose appetite was thoroughly ruined, left as well, along with most of the smaller children and Stevan.
Wyldon didn't show up to make lists for three hours, but Kel didn't begrudge him the time to calm down.
"I'm sorry, my lord," Kel said once Wyldon sat down. "I told Little Kel and the children some stories of my page training. I didn't think it would do any harm." Wyldon waved her apology aside.
"It's not your fault. There wasn't any way for you to know Mirelle would do as she did. She was spoiling for a fight, anyway. If not for 'Stump' she would have found something else," Wyldon said wearily. Kel nodded silently.
They completed the staff lists that day, and Kel didn't go to the dining hall, saying she had a headache. She felt bad about lying, but her body soothed her conscience by producing cramps. Kel had Tobe fetch her some water and made some of the tea Lalasa had recommended to her when she had been a page. Tobe also brought Kel some leftovers. They were cold but appreciated. She and her servant spent the evening in quiet conversation. Kel felt much better when she crawled into bed that night.
That next day they finished the judge and monitor lists, then spent the afternoon plotting the camping lots with string. After that they began mapping out who would sleep where. It was the same social planning that had gone on during the Progress, both Kel and Wyldon hated it.
"Why don't we just place the most snobby nobles between the commoners and the merchants and call it a lesson in tolerance?" Wyldon suggested after the fifth time of having to start over because of a petty feud or an odd number in a group. Kel snickered as she drew up a new map.
"Amusing, but I don't think it would make the King happy."
"True. And I'd have to listen to them complain." Wyldon sighed. He looked down at the map. "If we put the competitors here in alphabetical order, no one can complain about unfairness, and they can settle their feuds in rounds. Late registers will just be camped back here in the order they arrive," he said, pointing.
In the end, they decided on a similar policy for the entire camp. The campground was marked off into sections; priests and mages, dukes and counts, barons and lords, Own and Riders, merchants, soldiers, servants, and peasants. Latecomers would take what spots they could. Kel decided they could call it a lesson in punctuality - the best spots would go to those who arrived first. They royal family would stay in the castle, as would the Lioness and Raoul. Sara had fifty fits when she realized she needed to make two guest rooms worthy of royal occupancy, ready two more for the realm's most famous heroes and their spouses, and find space in the servant's wing for the royal servants.
It wasn't the most socially acceptable arrangement, but it was the route of least frustration and most fairness. With the realm's most famous people in the castle, no one could complain about not being camped near them, nor could anyone complain about favoritism since location in each section was decided by time of arrival. They had also plotted the sections lengthwise instead of concentrically around the stands, so good and bad spots were distributed among all the sections. The peasants couldn't even complain that the nobles got all the best spots. Some people would complain anyway, but the number of complaints would be vastly reduced.
"The Mithrans will definitely like it," Wyldon said, the candlelight flickering over his handsome features. "The same rule applies for all; be on time or suffer the consequences."
"You're serious about punctuality," Kel remarked with amusement. "I don't think any of the competitors you trained will be remotely surprised by the arrangement." Wyldon grinned in satisfaction and amusement, and for once he made no bother to hide it.
"Come on, Mindelan. We've missed supper, let's get something to eat from the kitchen," Wyldon said, putting the finished map away. Now that he had mentioned it, Kel noticed how hungry she was. They walked to the kitchen in a comfortable silence. They filled their bowls from a pot of stew that was always kept on the hearth nearest the door. Wyldon took a small loaf of bread from the shelf as Kel found them glasses of cider.
"Why didn't anyone come to tell us we were late?" Kel asked.
"When I work through meals, my staff knows better than to interrupt me," Wyldon said. "There are quite a few new faces, but most of the people here have worked with me for years."
"Stevan especially?"
"His family has worked for mine for centuries. Stevan and I knew each other when we were boys, we were as inseparable as brothers."
"What book is your family in, if you've had servants for centuries?" Kel asked curiously.
"The Book of Copper," Wyldon said wryly. "That's why the conservatives liked me so much." Kel smiled, digging into the stew. It was very good, thick and filled with chunks of beef and vegetables. It disappeared quickly, the last juices sopped up with bread. Wyldon finished before she did, but waited for her. They went to the kennels and fed the dogs, Kel once again ladling dog feed into each bowl. The dogs were too well-trained to escape, but they made their dislike of being put away clear in lank tales and downcast faces. Kel and Wyldon brushed the dog hair off the best they could as they walked across the courtyard, enjoying the quiet evening.
"Enjoy the peace," Wyldon said. "Making the competition lists is the hardest part. There are very specific rules - one judge can only see each competitor once each day. No competitor can see the same person in more than one round each day. No knights from the same fief can compete against each other until the fourth day. There are always people who sign up and then circumstances change so they can't, and those who sign up to compete late. It usually takes about ten drafts to get one list correct."
"How many lists to we have to make?"
"Fifteen - one for each round of each event on the first day. The other days' lists will be drawn up the night before. If my clerks are done with the taxes when we're done with the lists, they'll do the copying. If the taxes aren't finished, though, we have to make a copy of each list for each judge."
"I can feel hand cramps in the making," Kel said wryly. Wyldon snorted.
"Then you'll write with your left hand. I'm not doing this alone." Kel had to admit she would have said the same in his position.
"How much of our budget is spent on writing supplies?" Kel asked.
"About half," Wyldon began, but stopped. Mirelle was walking across the yard arm-in-arm with a man. It was Tom, the same one that had given her the necklace. Tom had the sense to be scared; he tried to disengage Mirelle's arm as they stood in a pool of torchlight. Mirelle, on the other hand, nodded a greeting to Wyldon as if nothing was unusual. She then turned and kissed Tom goodnight, long and fully on the mouth. Kel stared in shock as Mirelle let Tom flee with a wave, then sauntered away. Kel looked at Wyldon. His face was blank, so blank Kel knew it was forced. He wasn't shocked, or even surprised - Mirelle apparently had done this before.
"If I divorce her, even on grounds," Wyldon said slowly, his voice completely devoid of pitch, "her brother will restart the fighting we were married to prevent. I can't do that to my people, the wars were hard enough on them. Or the King, who's got enough on his plate without me starting another petty squabble."
"So she can do what she likes," Kel said bitterly, "and throw it in your face."
"When she's feeling spiteful. Go to bed, Mindelan." Kel went to her quarters, but she couldn't sleep. She was too angry. It was blackmail, pure and simple. Mirelle was using Wyldon's sense of duty to keep herself from facing the consequences of breaking her wedding vow, a vow made to the gods. And if that wasn't enough, she was conspicuous about it. She had kissed her lover right in front of him when she'd known he was watching. It was sickening.
And why? To get a reaction? Kel didn't believe it. No sane person would say or do the things Mirelle did just to get a reaction. Snakes in the sock drawer, yes. Telling him the Tournament had been canceled, yes. Affairs, accusations of adultery, and saying deliberately hurtful things, often in front of his subjects? It didn't sound plausible. Not even someone completely socially inept could call those pranks.
Another possibility lay in the things Mirelle had said during breakfast. If she didn't want Wyldon, she might be trying to provoke him into divorcing her. But that was unlikely, too. She'd bore him four children, stayed with him for thirty years. And if she'd wanted free so badly, she could have just used her Goddess-given right to choose to force her brother not to interfere. And as far as arranged marriages went, Mirelle had been lucky. Wyldon was near her age, wealthy, very chivalrous, and handsome; he also had a sense of humor, though an unusual one. Even for Kel, someone several decades his junior, he would be a good "catch." What on earth could Mirelle find so distasteful she'd take such measures to be rid of him?
Kel punched her pillow. Nothing about her made sense! She was nice enough to Kel and to the servants, Tobe had told her they complained of no abuse. The children loved her. She was obviously smart enough to manage the fief while Wyldon was gone. Mirelle was pretty and charming, yet she was so mean to Wyldon it was hard to believe it was the same person. According to Tobe, she was softhearted enough to adopt stray kittens and puppies, yet she seemed to humiliate Kel deliberately. There was no logic to it!
Which, of course, was a possibility of its own. But somehow Kel doubted a madwoman would be able to manage Cavall so well in Wyldon's absence. Kel sighed. It wasn't any of her business, anyway. Wyldon hadn't come to her with his problems, she'd just been thrown in the middle by mistake. Kel highly doubted he wanted her to help. Wyldon wasn't Lalasa, he didn't need her help. He was a knight of more experience and wisdom than her. He could handle himself, and his marriage, on his own.
As Wyldon had said, the competition lists were a frustrating nightmare. While it took him roughly ten drafts to get a perfect list, it took her all day to complete her first.
"You're a fast learner. It usually takes two days to complete your first list," Wyldon said. "Keep in mind this is the this is the third Tournament I've listed for."
That made Kel feel better, but she wasn't certain she liked the fact Wyldon had been able to tell she'd felt substandard.
The drudgery of the lists continued for a week, filling Kel's second week in Cavall. While Wyldon was correct in that after her first list the process became easier, his estimate of three days was three days short. Often, they'd complete four lists, a full days' work, only to find the lists would conflict with each other, or that two people with different surnames were actually from the same fief. Then they'd have to do two of the lists over.
"I wish," Kel said after the third such restart, "that there was some device that you could enter the competitors names in, press a button, and have the lists appear in your hands. Perhaps the mages could start working on that."
"If they did, losing competitors would complain the mages had somehow conspired to make them fail," Wyldon remarked in humor and asperity. Kel smiled grimly, ripped the mistaken list into pieces, and started over.
By the end of the second week, the first days' lists were complete.
"Does this get easier during the Tournament?" Kel asked, stretching as they filed the lists away.
"Yes. There are fewer competitors, and we have lists to start with. Usually, we cross out the eliminated men, then match the first person in the right column with the last person in the left column and so on. For the second round, we match the first person in the left-hand column with the second-to-last person in the right-hand column and use that pattern. Third round it's the third person in the right column with the first person on the left, for fourth round the middle person in the left list is matched against the last person on the right, for fifth round it's the third-to-last person on the left with the second-to-last on the right. Those left over are matched against each other. After competition, we cross out those that are eliminated and start over. Since each list we start from is already shuffled and the patterns are random, it's rare that anyone sees each other more than once. All we have to do is double-check to make sure the competitors aren't from the same fief."
"And it gets easier each day because more people are eliminated each day," Kel said happily. Wyldon nodded.
"You have tomorrow off. Enjoy it," Wyldon said. "The food we ordered should start arriving in two days, as will the Tournament lances. For the next two weeks we'll be storing things, arranging food distribution, and the like. Guests and competitors should start arriving the third or fourth of June."
Kel enjoyed the day off. She rose before dawn as usual and practiced her weapons, had a lazy bath, and dressed. She had breakfast with the children again, then saddled Peachblossom and worked him thoroughly. Afterward she explored the stables, seeing that Cavall's horses were as fine as its dogs. In the late afternoon, she saddled Hoshi and rode her to the town near the castle, Shady Pines.
It was a fair-sized castle town, with a bustling market and many smaller shops. Everywhere was the sound of a realm at peace. Kel used the time to buy her Midwinter gifts, knowing she might not have the opportunity later. She explored the town and bumped into Boromir, who apologized for his earlier behavior. Kel did meet quite a few conservative peasants that whispered names behind her back, but she paid them no mind. The centaurs Wyldon had spoken of had a stall in the market. Kel talked with them briefly, found them friendly, and purchased four of their arrows at a silver each for Buri and Raoul. She also picked up a few things she was running low on, like tooth cleaner and thread.
Kel returned to Cavall Keep at twilight and packed her purchases away. She used the remaining time until dinner to finish the book Neal had given her last Midwinter, Marvolo of Kennan's Essays on Knighthood. Neal thought it was very good, but Kel didn't agree with many of Marvolo's philosophies. The only fact she really did appreciate was that Marvolo was Cleon's great-grandfather.
After finishing the book, Kel reluctantly went to supper. She was tempted to plead a headache again, but she couldn't quite convince herself it was worth the lie and the possibility of having to see a healer who would realize her headache was feigned. Kel sighed as she walked down the hall. Curse my conscience, Kel thought as she walked into the dining hall. At least I'm early so I can politely chose my own seat. Seeing who was already there, she wished she wasn't; Wyldon had just handed Mirelle a bunch of daffodils.
"I'm sorry for interrupting," Kel said, turning an about face.
"Daffodils, my favorite flower," Mirelle said, acting as if Kel wasn't there. "How sweet. If flowers could make up for your hypocrisy, insensitivity, and being a lousy husband, I'd accept them." Kel heard flowers hitting the stone floor as she walked out the door, then the sound of Mirelle' retreating footsteps. Kel counted to ten before walking back into the hall. Wyldon was picking up the flowers.
"I'll win her over eventually. At least she didn't throw them into the midden this time," Wyldon said with empty humor. Kel knelt and helped him pick up the blooms. They were beautiful. Kel patted the flowers gently, perking them up as best she could.
"I don't think she's worth them," Kel whispered, handing him the flowers she'd picked up. Wyldon scowled.
"Another word, and I'll challenge you for smearing my wife's honor." Kel apologized perfunctorily and took a seat at the filling table. She made sure to sit as far away from Mirelle as etiquette allowed. Ferhan sat on Kel's right and Kida on her left. Kel enjoyed dinner, especially watching Ferhan and Kida squabble. It was obvious they loved each other very much, but they fought like cats and dogs. It was the first normal interaction she'd seen between the Cavall adults.
Kel stayed past dessert listening to Ferhan and Kida, especially after Vaye joined in. When she found herself dozing, Kel decided it was time for bed. She said goodnight to the three siblings and headed for her quarters. Kel met Cossette on the way, and graciously allowed the wolfhound to sleep at the foot of her bed, much to the dog's delight.
As Wyldon had predicted, the Tournament supplies arrived on time. Kel was assigned inventory duty, counting and recording everything the carriers delivered. Wyldon told the porters where to store the supplies, and helped them unload, as well as checking the carpenters' work on the stands. This routine - or rather, lack thereof - continued for all of Kel's third week in Cavall. The deliveries stopped on Sunday, giving everyone a chance for rest.
On Monday the monitors and judges arrived and began setting up. They were shown were to camp and where the Tabulation Tent was, and that was all they needed. The list of the late registers arrived that week, sending Wyldon and Kel back into the office to edit the lists. After the competition lists were edited, they were given to the castle clerks for copying. While the lists were being copied Wyldon and Kel assembled Merchant's Row, a double row of stalls rented by various businesses. They collected rent and assigned stalls, as well as directing the out-of-fief merchants who arrived, like the Raven Armory. When all stalls had been assigned and paid for, the days were spent organizing the castle clerks and training them in Tournament procedure. They also had signs placed to mark each section of campground.
During those two hectic weeks, neither Wyldon nor Kel had the time to eat in the dining hall. They ate what they could when the could, usually with a quill in the other hand or while running between jobs. Kel didn't like grazing, she preferred having regular meals, but she did like avoiding Mirelle.
Thus it was that when June first arrived, Kel was almost sad to see things slow down. Wyldon paid some of his classier serfs to greet the incoming guests and direct them either to the Shady Pines inns, or to the campgrounds, and all of the organization was complete. Until the Tournament competition began, there was very little for them to do. Kel enjoyed the break.
Wyldon spent most of his spare time with his horses, dogs, grandchildren and Kel. He and Kel resumed the lessons they'd had on the road. Kel delighted in learning the new things Wyldon taught her, especially the jousting techniques she was forbidden to teach to anyone else. Wyldon, on the other hand, was managing the glaive, though he did have a tendency to use it like a halberd. In any case, Kel doubted Yuki would be able to humiliate him with an easy defeat, though there was no chance he'd win. If Mirelle had any comments about the time her husband spent with Kel, she didn't air them during meals or to Kel. As Wyldon had said, Mirelle behaved herself around the guests.
The royal family arrived on June fifth, along with the Lioness and Raoul. George greeted Wyldon by stealing his belt knife. Wyldon wasn't amused, though Alanna was.
The spectators and competitors arrived in droves after that. Kel was exceedingly happy that wasn't anything she had to deal with. As expected, the punctuality-driven sleeping arrangements drew many complaints that were duly ignored.
During the lull before the Tournament Kel, Yuki, and Shinkokami spent as much time together as they could, catching up on their years apart. To Kel's delight, they were often joined by Buri, Thayet, and Alanna. The three Tortallan women deemed in necessary to introduce Kel to some of the finer points of womanhood she'd missed during her training. When Kel pointed out they'd all had similarly untraditional child-hoods, the trio replied that there was no age-limit to enjoying being female.
"Despite what the Stump has told you, it is possible to have fun, be a girl, and be a good warrior at the same time," Alanna said.
"Please don't call Lord Wyldon that," Kel said before she could stop herself. "No disrespect intended, Lioness."
"Call me Alanna. And why not? It suits him," Alanna replied. "And it's only a nickname."
"Repectfully, ma'am, Lord Wyldon doesn't like the name. And a nickname is supposed to be a sign of affection. If I may, I don't think you have much affection for my lord," Kel said. She couldn't sit silent as Wyldon was mocked, but she didn't want to correct the Lioness, either.
"No, I don't. We are talking about the man who had you put on probation, forbid me to see you, and nearly sent you away your first year as a page, aren't we?" Alanna said, bristling.
"He allowed me to stay," Kel said. "He didn't make me repeat all four years when I went looking for Lalasa and missed the Examinations, nor did he have me executed for treason when I disobeyed his orders to rescue my people from the Scanrans."
"He let you stay because I would have ripped him to shreds if he hadn't," Alanna said passionately. "And it was the Magistrate who decided you didn't have to retake your examinations."
"As training master he could have overruled the Magistrate," Kel said calmly. "Lord Wyldon allowed me to stay because I'd met the qualifications, he told me so himself." Kel decided not to mention that Wyldon had also admitted to doing everything in his power to get rid of her.
"And you believed him?"
"Lord Wyldon does not lie," Kel said firmly.
"This is very interesting," Thayet said, taking a small bag of salted nuts from Buri. "I've never seen two more disparate views of one person before." Thayet popped a couple of nuts in her mouth. "Alanna thinks he's a stiff, humorless, dishonorable misogynist, and Kel sees him as a paragon of knightly virtue."
"I wouldn't say paragon," Kel said, turning faintly pink. "Lord Wyldon's human. But he's not a stump, either."
"His knightly skills aside, he's inflexible and he has no sense of humor," Alanna said stubbornly. "That's a stump."
"If he was inflexible he would have been killed in battle years ago, and he would have just sent me away no matter what I'd done," Kel said just as stubbornly. "And he does have a sense of humor. It's exceedingly dry and deadpanned, but there." Alanna regarded Kel skeptically.
"Why do you care so much that I call Wyldon a stump?"
"He's my lord and friend," Kel said. "You'd do the same if I called King Jonathan a swizzle-fingered silk-stocking."
"I would," Alanna said dubiously. "But I have a hard time believing Wyldon is anyone's friend." Kel forced herself to be silent for a count of ten. As much as she wanted to tell Alanna that most of Wyldon's closest conservative friends had rejected him, Kel knew Wyldon would be far from appreciative for the breach in his privacy.
"He is to me," Raoul said, walking up behind the women. "Be nice, Alanna. Most of his conservative friends have dropped him for being fair to Kel; even Burchard's stopped talking to him. You yourself haven't even talked to him outside of war meetings for over a decade."
"Burchard? After Wyldon married his eldest daughter to that ugly little twit of his?"
"Martin of Stone Mountain, Joren's oldest brother," Raoul said. "Kida liked him very much, so I wouldn't say that around her. No, Burchard's not talking to him, neither is Ansil or Esmond. His three closest friends, or so he thought." Raoul paused. "But you didn't hear it from me."
"Yes you did," Kel said, glad the discussion was over. "I'm not taking the blame for you, sir."
"Is that any way to treat your former knight-master? The man who saved you from being a desk-knight's squire?" Raoul asked with mock-indignation.
"Is gossiping behind his back any way to treat your former page-sponsor?" Kel asked with similar loftiness. "One that didn't tell Duke Gareth the Older you were the one that left frog spawn in his drawer? Lord Wyldon told me about you."
"I did not! He did that all on his own!" Raoul protested. Buri, Thayet, and Alanna snorted in disbelief. "Wyldon was very capricious as a youngster, worse than George and Nealan of Queenscove combined. He only turned serious after he was married." He paused, looking at Buri. "Not that marriage inherently ruins your life," Raoul finished.
"You're digging yourself in a hole," Thayet said sagely, eating another nut.
