Chapter 6: Training
Jubilee was swept along with the boys as they went from class to class, room to room. By the time dusk fell and the trainees were told to head back to the barracks to sleep, she was so tired she could almost have fallen asleep on her feet. She heartily wished that she were still on the trail with Sir Logan and Robert and Sir William; things were so much simpler. The boys stripped in the barracks for bed, completely unabashed; they were all boys, right? Jubilee turned pink at the sight of so much male skin showing, and beat a hasty retreat out to the privies, where she hurriedly changed into the sleeping clothes she had found folded on the end of her bed. Francis must have found the washerwoman, and he must have had a pretty good eye, because everything in the folded pile fit her perfectly. There was also a slate and a few sticks of charcoal wrapped in rags; she now had a slate of her own, and on that slate Francis had written, 'Clothes will be replaced when you grow out of them.' Jubilee smiled to herself. She was pretty much done growing; these would fit her a while, then. She might get a little taller, but that was about it.
When she walked back into the barracks she pushed her old, sweaty, dusty clothes into the basket under her bed. "What happens to them?" she asked Thomas, who was in the bed on her right side.
"We have to wash them ourselves," Thomas made a face. "They say it's practice for when we're on campaign with our knights and we'll be expected to wash their stuff and ours. We gotta be able to take care of all the stuff they need done."
Jubilee shrugged. "Sounds reasonable. I mean, if they're so busy fighting and all, seems like they need someone to take care of the. After all, they're sort of protecting us, so it makes sense that we're to take care of them, right? Kind of like a body servant, or…" she trailed off.
"Like what?" Thomas asked sleepily.
"Nothing," Jubilee lay down and pulled the blanket over her body. "I'm tired. Let's go to sleep."
But she was still awake long after the rest of the barrack's residents were asleep. Being a squire…it had occurred to her, as they were talking, that being a squire was much like being a knight's wife. Her mother did all those things for her father; washed his clothes, cared for the harnesses and saddles used on their trick ponies, kept all the leather riding gear he needed for his tricks oiled, supple, and usable, and polished his sword and the daggers he used in his act. How was that any different from what a squire was required to do for his knight? And deep down, she admitted to herself, she liked the idea of cleaning Logan's clothes. Because while she did that she could pretend she was his wife, and she was taking care of him.
Ah, hell, Jubilee, she told herself. Admit it, you like the man. No, wait. Love the man. You're in love with Sir Logan. But look, it's never going anywhere, because he thinks you're a thirteen-year-old boy. He doesn't know you're a seventeen-year-old girl. And even if he did know, what makes him think he's going to love you back? Even if you did tell him one day…what do you think he's going to feel like, knowing you lied to him about who you really are? And besides, he's twenty. He's old. But no matter how she tried, she couldn't stop her heart and stomach from getting that fluttery feeling at the thought of his face, the sound of his name on her lips, the feel of his hand brushing her hands when he had handed the sword to her. She finally sighed to herself and determinedly closed her eyes.
When she opened them, it was morning.
The day started out with breakfast in the great hall. Logan was present at this meal, and gave her a wink and a nod as he went up to the tables. She ate her breakfast, happy, and followed her training mates to the classroom. This first class taught reading, and history. Most of the history lessons were centered on the current war with King Gallas; the knight who taught the class wanted them to understand how the war had started, and why.
It had started, as many wars did, over land. Gallas wanted more; and the only one he could see to take it from was King Richard. Gallas's kingdom was a tiny slice of land with the sea on one side and the rest of his borders touching King Richard's domains. He had then gone to war with Richard. His army, however, was larger than Richard's, and Richard had to leave knights to guard his other borders, so he couldn't devote his attention to the war with Gallas. The war had raged on for nearly three years now; and they were all getting tired of it. In the spring King Richard was going to take a large company of knights to the border and settle the war, once and for all. "The King hopes that this final wave of fresh knights will break the back of Gallas's army. By summer he hopes that we can be safely back here in the castle, and the war will be a memory. Various noblemen, such as Duke Gilbert and Duke Roarke, are raising the numbers of their own personal guards, so that their troops will be able to join the conflict this spring."
Jubilee absorbed all this information. The caravan traveled between towns, and sometimes weeks went by without hearing news. She listened carefully as the teacher asked questions about the lesson, and was relieved to realize that she had paid enough attention when he asked her a question and she answered it correctly. It was a different story when the knight asked Nathan a question. Nathan replied, haughtily, that he didn't have to worry about what caused the war because, as first son, he would never need to go near battle lines. He was too precious, as the heir to his father's lands and titles, to risk in a stupid war. Jubilee shook her head quietly. Even if you were not going to fight, shouldn't you know what was happening in the kingdom you lived in?
Unfortunately for her, Nathan saw her headshake and her obvious disdain for his contempt of the lessons. As the class was dismissed to go outside for the weaponry classes, he caught her in the hallway alone. "So you think you know better, huh, pretty boy?" he mocked Jubilee. "Well, let me tell you something; the way you look, I wouldn't worry about going off to fight in a war. Your pretty face will guarantee you a place in some lord's household to be treated like a mistress's favored pet." He smirked. "Maybe I'll ask my father to get your mentor to release you to him. My mother likes pretty male servants." Jubilee went hot, then cold at the thought of spending her days as a servant in some noble's house. She'd never have the freedom to do what she wanted to do then! She broke away from Nathan and hurried down the corridor, heading outside for the weaponry classes.
The instructor for this one seemed pleased that she had arrived earlier than the others (most of them were changing intoother clothes, not wanting to get their new brown uniforms dirty. Jubilee, however, only had the uniform, and saw no point in going to change into what was, for her, the same new clothes. "You are the new squire, are you not?" the man boomed. He was shorter than Francis, but he had the same breadth of shoulder and muscular arms. "Let us see how you handle a sword."
Jubilee gasped audibly when she picked up the wooden practice sword. It was much heavier than the sword she had in her personal items chest; now she was thankful that Logan had made her carry his saddlebags, and that Robert had trained her in basic sword drills every time they stopped. She wasn't hopeless with the sword; though, when she looked at the other students with the practice swords, they were much better than she was. She wondered if she would be allowed to take the practice swords out for practice of her own.
The man seemed surprised. "You have more muscle than I expect from such a small lad," he boomed. "Let me place you with a more experienced swordsman so that you can learn from him." He pursed his lips, then turned and looked at the field, looking for one student in particular. "Ah," he said, satisfied. "Nathan!"
Jubilee's heart sank as the boy came up. "Yes?"
"That is 'yes, Sir York' to you, lad," the weaponsmaster said, punctuating his words with a slap from theflat of his bladeto Nathan's buttocks. "I want you to work with the new boy. He is inexperienced, and you have the advantage of having been taught to wield a sword since you were younger than he, so you two are now practice partners. Go ahead and work." He waved the two of them off to one side of the practice ground.
"Hold your sword like this," Nathan said without preamble, and rearranged Jubilee's two-handed grip on her sword. The new position did not feel comfortable, and her movements were awkward. She shook her head.
"My hands aren't comfortable holding the sword like that," she said, readjusting her grip. "I traveled here with Sir Logan and Sir William and his squire Robert, and Robert said because my hands were smaller I should hold the sword like this."
"We're not on the road!" Nathan said sharply, rapping her knuckles with the flat of his practice sword. "The weaponsmaster says we have to hold the sword like this, so that's how we have to hold it." He readjusted her grip, to the uncomfortable, unnatural one, and assumed an attacking position.
By the time the weaponsmaster called a halt to the class, Jubilee's knuckles were close to bleeding from the number of times her fists had been struck by Nathan's practice blade. She winced as she put her practice sword back in the box with the others and hurried off, avoiding the weaponsmaster's eyes so he wouldn't see how close to tears she was. She slipped into the barracks, grabbing her old, dirty shirt from the basket under the bed and tearing two strips from the end of the tunic. She wrapped them around her hand, over the knuckles; it would protect her hands from the rough leather reins during their next class, which was equitation.
The instructor was a slender old man; as much the opposite of Francis and the weaponsmaster as she could possibly imagine. He was medium-height, with hair so blond it was almost white; light blue eyes and a frail build made it look like he would break in a strong gust of wind. But when he cut a horse out of the common herd for her to ride, she saw the muscles in those sinewy arms, and realized that that frail-looking exterior was misleading.
She tacked the horse up and mounted when they were told to, and they all spent some time walking, trotting, cantering, and galloping. Jubilee liked this horse; he wasn't like the rough ponies her parents trained (they were all her family could afford) but this horse felt like one bred for a noble's stable. The horsemaster had them all get into a line, and she listened to his instructions. "I am going to come at you, with a practice sword," he said. "I will slash at you. Your goal is to avoid being touched by the sword, and also not fall off. Now, may I have the first student."
Jubilee watched the man swing. It wasn't unlike the exercise her mother did; there was a part of her parents' act where her father would trot his horse clockwise, and her mother would get her horse going counterclockwise. Then she would stand on the horse's bare back. Her father would slash at her, sometimes high, sometimes low; her mother had to duck or jump over the blade. Jubilee, intrigued, had joined her parents in the act. She was good; her acrobatic skills helped her a lot.
It was finally her turn. She waited for the signal, and began to trot her horse at the horsemaster, never taking her eyes off the side of his neck. The big muscles at the junction of the neck and shoulder would bunch up to raise the sword; as soon as she saw that, she switched her attention to the sword tip as she started to duck. Then she used the trick she used with her parents; she squeezed her thighs together to grip the horse's girth, in order to keep her balance; then she leaned back, all the way back, until the back of her head touched the horse's rump. Her back protested mildly; it reminded her that she hadn't done any of her stretching and flexing exercises in a while, and she made a mental note to herself to start those exercises again.
The instructor looked mildly surprised as the sword whistled a good five inches above her nose. Jubilee sat back up as her horse cantered past, then turned him and cantered back. This time, she leaned sideways, feeling the muscles in her side stretch as she did so. Yes, she was definitely out of shape. She'd have to keep herself supple; it looked like her acrobatic skills were going to come in handy here.
"That was well done indeed," the man said when she had stopped her horse. "Extraordinary flexibility. Where did you learn that?"
She told him the same story she had told Logan. "My mother used to perform with a traveling fair. She taught me all kinds of acrobatic and horseback tricks."
The man nodded amiably. "A good skill to have." He was about to return to his place and call the next student, when Nathan called out, "But you didn't tell us we had to do tricks!"
The horsemaster stopped. "Nathan, the point is to avoid the blade coming at you. It does not matter so much how you do it, so long as you do avoid it." He turned to Jubilee. "Did anyone see how this boy actually did it?"
"He started to duck as your sword came up," Robin said, awed. He'd been knocked from his horse by that sword. "How did he know you were going to swing?"
"Lee?" the horsemaster said.
"I watched you," Jubilee said. "Everyone else was watching your eyes. It's a good way to tell someone's going to make a move if the person's wearing armor, I guess, but I was watching your shoulder. When you went to raise the sword I saw the muscles bunch up, and I started to duck just then, as you started to swing. By the time you got the sword up high enough to swing, I was already under the path of the swing."
The man smiled. "An excellent point. I shall have to wear armour, or something that conceals the movement, for our next lesson. An observant young man." He nodded once to Jubilee, then turned and headed back to his place and beckoned to his next student.
The hour after the equitation class was a free hour, when the trainees and student could do what they pleased. The other trainees headed off to do whatever, but Jubilee, thinking vaguely that she really should get some stretching done, tucked her shirt securely into her leggings, shucked her shoes, and stayed out in the field. She started with basic stretches, toe touches, back bends, and the like, then closed her eyes, pretending there was an imaginary crowd, and folded easily into a handstand. She walked on her hands for a short distance, then touched her toes to the back of her head. Again, her back muscles protested; she really was out of shape. She took her toes off her head, bending over a little more sharply backward so her feet could touch the ground over her head, and stood easily. She went into a couple of dive rolls to stretch her back the other way, then a few handsprings and a cartwheel. Then, feeling exhilarated, she began to practice the moves she had perfected for the nobles. It was a dance with a combination of rolls and cartwheels, turning an athletic exercise into an exhibition of grace. She finished with a one-legged stand, the other leg pulled high over her head from the back, then dropped her leg, panting.
A burst of applause startled her, and she whirled. Two gorgeously-dressed people, one man and one woman, were standing by the fence, mounted on horses. Around them were an assortment of others dressed in stiff leather that was only one step down from armour. She stood there, gawking for a moment, before her eyes caught sight of a familiar black horse to the King's left. Her eyes traveled upward until she saw Logan's face. He realized she was looking at him, then jerked his head quickly, almost imperceptibly, toward the man. Jubilee went white as she realized who the man on the white horse must be, and she dropped to her knees in the dust, her heart pounding in her chest. The King! She had not recognized, and bowed immediately, to the King! She could be beheaded now!
Out the corner of her eye she saw the King's face darken, but the Queen leaned close to him and whispered something in his ear, and he relaxed. "Come near Us," he said, and Jubilee rose, crept closer to the fence, and almost immediately collapsed back to her knees. She would not have been able to help it, her legs were shaking so badly that she wouldn't have been able to stay standing.
"I am most extremely sorry, Your Majesty," she forced the words from her pale lips. "I have not seen you before, and I did not realize who you were. I apologize for my ignorance, Your Majesties, and I beg you to please not have me flogged!" If the King chose to have her flogged it would all be over.
"We are willing to overlook your ignorance," the King said. "However, Our Queen wishes you to attend upon her this evening, as soon as your duties permit."
Jubilee almost stopped breathing. The Queen…if she was one of those with a taste for pretty boys… "Y-y-yes, Your Majesties," she stammered, almost faint with terror and shock. The horses and their riders turned and rode away, and Jubilee fell sobbing into the dust. She did not see the Queen glance back for a last look at her, and even if she had shewould still not have seen the look of pity in the queen'sblue eyes.