Do any of you realize this story has been going on for over three years? Thank you all for putting up with me; first while I was writing crappily, and now through my weirdly sporadic updates!
To use a musical comparison (and it should be noted that I don't really like Mozart all that well; some of his stuff is all right, but most of it I think is kind of meh. I adore Beethoven, though. Always have.) I used to be like Mozart; I could churn out stuff with the best of them, even if it wasn't that good. Now I'm more like Beethoven; sporadic, mercurial, and somewhat temperamental about it, but what I eventually get out is usually at least fairly good.
…though I am nowhere near the genius Beethoven was at anything. My god, that man could compose.
Well, enough with my ramblings, it's storytime!
Kamaria woke up at the morning bell and immediately wished she hadn't as the headache-no, the hangover crashed down to earth itself in her temples. She pressed her hands over her eyes as the light beat down on her eyelids, and made a small mewling sound as she rolled over to face the wall.
I don't feel queasy, she thought, when she regained the ability of coherence, That's something, at least.
She didn't have any notion of how long she'd stayed curled into her bed, but after a while someone tapped on the door and came in. "I have willowbark, Kamaria," said Alain, and Kamaria made a small noise of pain.
"Not so loud," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. She kept her hands firmly over her eyes.
She felt Alain sit down on her bed, and could sense his faint amusement even through his sympathy. "If you sit up, you can have some willowbark," he offered, "It will help it go away, and besides, you need the liquid."
Kamaria considered this for a moment, and finally decided it would be worth her while to roll slowly over and carefully sit up. She still didn't dare open her eyes, however, but Alain seemed to sense her reluctance and pressed a warm mug into her hands.
Kamaria gulped it down as fast as she could, screwing up her face at the strong flavor, and held the cup back out. "Don't try and use your Gifts," advised Alain, "I had an…er…interesting incident when I was fourteen and my Clan came visiting."
She cracked open one eye, tentatively, to peer inquisitively at him. Alain gave a faint sigh. "My Gift had just awoken, and they were camped outside the walls," he explained, "I went to visit, of course, with Lirite, and they had an impromptu festival for us. Naturally, it involved drinks, shared indiscriminately with anyone over twelve."
Kamaria tried to imagine this, couldn't, and gave up. Alain continued, and she could hear the rueful smile in his tone of voice. "So I had a bit more than was good for me, and I didn't exactly have my Animal Mindspeech under full control at the time; my shields came down, with, er, interesting results."
"Like what?" croaked Kamaria as her lifebonded fell silent. Alain sighed again.
"Well, Ramya had to come rescue me from the Clan dogs, who had me cornered against a wagon, wanting to play but squashed too tightly to move, and I somehow managed to spook all the horses, so my Clan spent most of the days of their visit recovering them. I've never been able to duplicate that since."
Kamaria tried to laugh; wanted to howl with laughter, actually, but only came out with a sort of choking wheeze as she doubled over, half in mirth, half in pain.
"You do have classes today," said Alain, stoically waiting out her amusement, "Actually, I think you're on Council duty for the first time this afternoon."
Kamaria's eyes flew all the way open, and she winced in pain. "Oh, shit," she said, ineloquently, "I do, don't I?"
Council duty, as it was usually called amongst the Trainees, was a device for them to learn about politics as practiced in Valdemar. The Heraldic Trainees would act as pages as they watched the proceedings, paying particular attention to the Monarch and the Monarch's Own. However, as fully a third of every meeting was occupied by refined sniping amongst the Councilors, it was not an event usually looked forward to.
"It's not that bad," said Alain, lips twitching slightly as Kamaria muttered under her breath, "Just somewhat boring."
Kamaria thought longingly about lying down and going straight back to sleep, but instead shoved her blanket off her legs and got up. "That's one word for it, I suppose," she said, stretching out a cramp in her back, "I'm up, I'm up. Better run before Lani finds you."
Alain laughed and went to gather his books, closing the door behind him. Kamaria considered her several clean uniforms for a moment, and set the one in the best condition at the foot of her bed, to change into after lunch.
"Morning, Kamaria," said Lani, opening the door without knocking and poking her head into the room as Kamaria pulled on her boots, "Um, I still don't have a schedule yet," she added as Kamaria stood up and ran her fingers absently through her hair.
"You'll be with me through the morning, then," said Kamaria cheerfully, her face free of her mind's frantic run-through of her classes, "Um…today I have Strategy, then History and Religions." She grabbed the appropriate books off her desk, and gestured towards the common room with a bow calculated to make Lani giggle. It worked. "After you."
This is going to get incredibly complicated, she thought as they went to breakfast, I can't keep avoiding every boy in the Palace. Hopefully she won't take exception to Father…
She worried about the classes all through breakfast, and as a result didn't hear the first few words Tara said to her. "Hmm?" she asked, looking up distractedly from her porridge.
Tara was clearly very amused. "That was an interesting song you were singing last night," she repeated, slyly, "Though you certainly don't seem to be showing the effects of the drink today!"
Kamaria stared at her, and very slowly went beet-red. Vera decided to get in on the act, leaned over Lani's breakfast so Kamaria could see her, and said, loudly, "Well, I've heard that if you have a good enough time you don't get a hangover. How long did Alain stay in your rooms last night, Kamaria?"
The girl's table went into gales of laughter and Kamaria promptly choked on her juice as the full implication of that statement sank in.
"Well, as amusing a thought as that is, I don't believe it works, Trainee Vera," said a familiar voice in a light tone from just behind Kamaria, "Otherwise, how could I have such a wonderful time imitating every member of the Council at a party, have everyone in absolute stitches laughing, and wake up the next day with my head splitting in two?"
Kamaria slowly allowed her head to sink into her hands as Dean Nessa stood and bravely took her share of giggles. "Lani, this is a little unusual, but I would like you to come with me this morning," she continued, "Kamaria, go to your classes as normal; I know you have Council duty this afternoon."
Kamaria nodded, her head still in her hands, and went to Strategy with the feeling of having only just escaped with her skin intact.
"Were you getting teased?" asked Alain without preamble, falling in beside her. Kamaria groaned aloud.
"I got my share as well," he continued, "Well, we can show them in Strategy, right?"
Kamaria remembered their exercise of the day and brightened. "Yes, we can!" she declared, lifting her head high and walking more decisively, "Let's get them."
Garethe was humming under his breath when the pair of them walked in, arranging some small counters on a large sand-table. Kamaria blinked down at it, taking in the careful setup of hills, valleys, and rivers.
"This is new," she said, as Garethe consulted a piece of parchment in his hand and dropped a square block on a hill just beside a river.
"The six of you in this class are at a stage where this is more effective than a map," her father said in reply as he put another block on the other side of the table, "You need to be able to picture the terrain, and this will do for now."
"What are the blocks?" asked Alain, as Edim and Jakob came in, closely followed by Tara, who bid farewell to Vera just outside the door.
"They're forts," said Garethe as the other Heraldic Trainees clustered beside the table.
"Six of us?" asked Kamaria, blinking at her father, "There's just my year-mates and-"
A young man in Blues walked in and stared blankly at Garethe for a moment. "General Chantrea!" he blurted, and bowed hastily, "I didn't know you would be teaching this class-"
"Sir Chantrea is sufficient, Idrian," said Garethe, as the Heraldic Trainees stared at him, "Trainees, this is Idrian Frethatsa; his father just had him brought here and he's showed some aptitude for strategy."
Kamaria's blood turned to ice, and she involuntarily stepped backwards, knocking over a chair. "Sorry," she muttered, as her father raised an inquiring eyebrow at her.
Alain looked at her, faintly worried. :Kamaria, what's wrong?
:Frethatsa, Frethatsa, Alain! I didn't know the Earl had a son-: she retorted in Mindspeech, locking her hands behind her back and staring down at the table.
Alain was better at concealing his surprise than she was, but Kamaria Sensed the surge in his emotions as he too peered down at the sand-table. :That's-doesn't your father remember? Why on earth is he-
:Perhaps because he is not allowing personal prejudice to cloud his judgment before he gets to know the boy? Sitara said into both of their minds at once.
Kamaria felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. Distantly, she heard her father talking about what they had covered in the class so far. :Sitara, this boy's father kidnapped both of us, locked us up, and was going to marry me at swordpoint! How the hell-:
Ramya interrupted her tirade. :Kamaria, Alain, calm down. This is the Earl's nephew Idrian. Also, his father is somewhat estranged from his brother-and do you honestly think he had anything to do with it?
Alain looked thoughtful as Garethe told Idrian the names of the Trainees. :Kamaria, she has a point, he said, finally, :Do-:
:We'd best get on with the class, Kamaria interrupted before Alain could say anything further, and wrenched her attention back to her father, clamping her shields down tightly.
"Since we finally have an even number, we will first run a game of three on three, to demonstrate how the sand-table works, and then we will pair off and partition the table so we can work on small-scale situations," said Garethe, "Idrian, come over here; you'll work with Alain and Kamaria today."
Kamaria adopted the bland Court smile she had not used in months as Idrian made his way through the chairs, and made sure that she was standing as far from him as possible as her father explained what was going on.
As Tara, Edim, and Jakob set up their defense and the game came into play, Kamaria was forced to admit that Idrian was, indeed, very skilled. This did not stop her from having a small, slightly self-important thrill as he walked some of their forces into a trap that she had seen, but had wanted to know if he would notice. However, the thrill was turned to utter shock when Tara's team went on the offensive and Idrian blocked an attack she hadn't even seen coming, and he went on to lead their side to a victory over the other Trainees.
"Well done, Idrian," said Garethe, his first comment of the entire game other than a few times pointing out things against the rules, "Tara, please hand me those sticks on the side."
Tara handed over two long, black, flat sticks, and Garethe divided the table into three parts. "Alain, play Tara. Tara, you are on the offensive; Alain, defend the fort and the supply route. Jakob, play Edim. Jakob, try to capture his town. Idrian, play Kamaria. Kamaria, guard the keep and the village."
Idrian gave Kamaria a shy smile as she began setting up her tokens and examining what she had to defend. When she ignored it, he said, "It must have been interesting, growing up with the greatest General in Valdemar. I've wanted to meet him for years."
Kamaria considered this, and said, guardedly, "It was all right. I didn't spend very much time with him when I was very young."
Idrian set down a few cavalry tokens, looked at them, and added an infantry token to block the road. "From everything I've heard, you're as good as he is, though," he said, looking up through his eyelashes at her.
What the-is he flirting with me? Kamaria thought incredulously, and moved a squad of archers into the trees. Although Idrian saw her do it, under the rules of the game he would not know about it unless he specified scout positions. "I wouldn't say that," she replied lightly, "He's had years of experience; I've not even done this for a year."
Idrian scrutinized the table, made a face, and moved his infantry up the road, adding a siege engine behind them. "So, since you were about my age, then?" he asked, looking at the piece of paper Garethe had given him.
"How old are you?" asked Kamaria in reply, looking at her own piece of paper and moving the archers forward. "Ambush in the village, by the way."
Idrian muttered under his breath as he brought his cavalry forward. "Thirteen," he said, finally, "I've wanted to come here since I was ten, but this was the first year Father considered me old enough."
Kamaria dropped the tokens she was holding. "I'm sixteen!" she yelped indignantly, her glare somewhat spoiled by having to clear the area around her village.
Her year-mates stared at her, and she heard Jakob snort. Kamaria turned her glare on him. "Do you have a problem?" she asked icily, drawing herself up to her full height.
Since Jakob was quite a bit taller than she was, this had no effect whatsoever. "None, milady," he drawled, sweeping her a bow.
"Enough theatrics," called Garethe from where he sat at the desk correcting their written work, his feet up on one corner of the wood, "We only have half a candlemark left."
Idrian looked contrite. "I'm sorry!" he said, hastily, "It's just, you look so…so…" he trailed off, realizing this was hardly tactful.
"Short? Scrawny? Figureless?" Kamaria filled in for him, stung by his comment, "Play the game, Frethatsa."
She only just kept her control through the class, and Idrian seemed to think he'd blundered in the conversation, so he didn't venture any more small talk. Kamaria ended up beating him, but it was a narrow victory, and she didn't get any satisfaction from it.
The bell signaled the class change, and the Trainees and Idrian headed for the door. "Kamaria, a word," said Garethe, as she picked up her books.
Kamaria turned to look at him in surprise. Normally her father didn't say much to her, to avoid even the appearance of favoritism; this was a first. "Yes?" she asked, as Alain lingered for a moment, then left at her nod.
Garethe fidgeted for a moment with his pen, and finally said, "I'm sorry about springing Idrian on you like that; it wasn't fair to you or to Alain. But-" he held up a hand as Kamaria opened her mouth-"I did expect you to show a little more maturity in how you dealt with the boy. I am disappointed, Kamaria."
Kamaria stared at her father, mouth working as she tried to find the correct words, and finally burst out, "What did you expect me to do, Father? His uncle kidnapped Alain and me, beat Alain half to death, he's threatened me and the gods only know if he's the one behind Mother's poisoning-"
The transformation from a stern to an absolute iron expression stopped Kamaria in her tracks. Garethe stood and leaned across the desk, resting on his hands as he brought his face close to his daughter's. "Cold as he may be, I will not tolerate false accusations," he said in a deadly quiet tone, as Kamaria wished with all her heart she could flee, "Not against your family, not against your friends, not even against your worst enemies. You know better than to bandy about words with no truth behind them, and I expect to see you act as if you do."
Kamaria only just managed to hold his gaze, her fury transmuting to utter terror that made her knees want to turn to jelly. She had never seen her father like this; he had always come down hard on lies and false accusations, but-but-
"Go."
Her father's short, crisp command sent Kamaria sprinting for the door, quivering from either tears or panic; she could not tell which.
She slipped into History with a muttered apology to Herald Kyra, and Tara said helpfully that Garethe had held her behind to speak with her, and Kamaria chose a seat as far back as possible so the rest of the class wouldn't see her shaking. Although the discussion of the day was a debate about tactics against the Karsites of Vanyel's time, a topic she normally would have loved, Kamaria didn't utter a single word during either that class or Religions, which was next.
As Religions ended half a candlemark before lunch, so the servers could prepare the tables, Kamaria dropped her books in her room and slipped out to find Sitara, still incredibly shaken.
It didn't take her long to find Sitara, and whatever irritation her Companion may have had with her about her immaturity towards Idrian, the mare still allowed Kamaria to half-hide beneath her mane as she shook with renewed shock. "I've never seen him that angry," she whispered as Sitara curved her head around to look at her, "He was-it frightened me."
Sitara was silent for a long moment, and at last said, :I don't know what that was supposed to be about. You may have flung pure speculation into the air-:
"Thanks for that," interjected Kamaria, bitterly.
:-but you were angry, and I don't know why he would have taken it as he did, Sitara finished, :Can you remember him doing anything like this before?
"No," whispered Kamaria, "No, I haven't."
Kamaria went to lunch in a subdued mood, and ate fast before going to her rooms, where there was a set of Formal Grays waiting for her. She sighed and donned them, looking in the mirror and straightening her still blue-stained hair.
"Maybe this won't be horrible?" she said, without much hope as she glumly thought about the political maneuverings even in those her own age and younger.
Edim snorted as he joined her in trooping down the halls to the Council chamber, "Fat chance. Any idea what they're discussing today?"
"Grain and the distribution thereof, I believe," called Abi as he jogged to catch up with them, "But we may have some luck; I think there's some gripe about pirates on Evendim today. Any idea who our fourth person is?"
The three Trainees turned a corner and entered the small room off the Council chamber, where the Seneschal's Herald and Tara, looking very trim in her Formal Grays, awaited them. "Good, we have all of you," said the Seneschal, "Right, you will be supplying paper, ink, and tea to whoever needs them. If the meeting goes on longer than they expect, you will be taking food as well. Say nothing, but observe all that you can. We will meet here after the meeting to answer any questions you may have. Ready?"
The Trainees nodded. Kamaria took a tray of mugs, followed by Edim with tea, and with Tara and Abi likewise equipped, they entered the Council chamber.
Right, some of you may be wondering why I haven't been working on this as much as usual. I have recently begun work on an epic Harry Potter fic, which will eventually be posted; however, I'm taking that project very seriously indeed and will be working on it a lot before I post it. This fic is just pure fun, even if the characters get exasperatingly difficult now and then. To take a random example, I didn't know Idrian even existed until he walked in that door to Kamaria's strategy class!
Multiply that by five, and you'll understand my exasperation. I hope you liked this chapter; I'm going to be gone for the next two and a half weeks or so, but the next chapter will involve the Council meeting and…other things.
Toodles!