Disclaimer: I only own the characters, places, and things of my own imagination!
A/N: to answer some questions….
Where is it taking place? In Luanda, a country that is made up of lands from Tyra, Tusaine, Maren, and a little bit of Tortall (I know you're confused, but keep reading…)
What happened to Alanna and Kel? This is way before their time. Pretty much a story on how Tortall as we know it in the books came to be. There is a Tortall in this story, but it will come in much later. It is a much smaller version of the Tortall in the books.
What happened to her cat? Her cat, Midnight, wandered off in the woods during the burglar attack, and disappeared. But you never know, he might return… And as to the question about him being Faithful/Pounce cat, you'll just have to see… As far as our heroine knows at this point, he is just ordinary.
Does commander Evin have anything to do with Evin Larse? No, not really, though he might be a distant relative. It's not really decided yet, sorry, because I might bring him back at some point into the story for a semi-major role but I haven't decided yet.
I hope that clears things up. If not, just let me know. Thanks so much for all of the 10 reviews! Please, please, please, review… its always appreciated! If you have any other questions, I would be glad to answer them too. Happy reading!
Chapter 5: The Test
Test? It was the one word on everyone's lips and in everyone's mind. And to have to take it today? Cliona fidgeted, feeling the beginnings of panic rising up in her throat.
"Yes, test," the Duke continued. "It will take place in a little less than two bells (at the 9 bell) and is to be made of questions from the scholars and exhibitions of your martial poweress, or the little of it that you have, in various forms of combat. The other instructions will be given to you in the courtyard next to the training grounds at the aforementioned time. Until then, I suggest that you do some last minute studying and change into your palace uniforms. You are now dismissed."
The scraping of benches was once again heard as all of the pages scrambled out of the hall, most of them forgetting their decorum and bowing in their haste to leave.
"Oh, goodness!" Cliona realized that she probably looked like she was going to faint, for that was how she felt (though she didn't know it, most others looked the same way). "I never thought that the test was going to be today! I mean, I thought they would've taught us something first… What happens if someone doesn't pass?"
"Oh, don't be silly Ed," stated Fred rather sensibly. He didn't look the least bit phased at the present moment, and more than one of the other pages envied him for that. "Of course you'll pass. Come on, let's go to the library to study if that makes you feel any better."
But it didn't; Cliona knew in her heart that she was smarter than most boys her age. What worried her was that she didn't have many fighting skills, having never been taught them except for in one instance. A Shang master had come through her fief, Elderwood, naught but two years ago, but then again, she had only been nine years old!
Ugh, I'm just going to make a total fool of myself in the combat part, except maybe in archery. Resigning her self to this fate, she trudged up the stairs with the others to the library.
After they had been studying for one bell, they decided to go back downstairs and get ready for the impending examination. With slightly shaking hands, Cliona pulled on her royal blue and silver tunic and hose. Even if it was a little bit big, it was resplendent; it gave her an extra boost of courage that she undoubtedly needed. Unbolting the door, she stepped out to walk to the training yards. About to go get her friends, she rethought the matter, thinking it might do her fretful self some good to be alone without distractions for a few moments.
Her feet brought her to the training yards without her eyes really registering where she was headed. But upon arriving there, she took a seat on the bench next to Fred. By the looks of it, he had come alone as well.
"Hullo," he said casually once he noticed her arrival.
"Are you nervous at all?"
"Just a bit," he admitted. "Well, maybe a bit more that a bit. You?"
"Same." They smiled at each other and resumed silence, each too nervous and preoccupied to carry on a conversation for very long.
Heavy footsteps on the tiles of the courtyard made all of the pages look up immediately.
"Follow me." The newcomer had graying hair and a stern demeanor; a man not to be reckoned with.
Stiffly, they acquiesced, getting to their feet and stumbling after the mysterious man. He was leading them to an inner courtyard, one devoid of flowers and all color except green; green vines, green bushes, green trees. He motioned for them to sit.
"Here you will wait your turn until it is your time to complete the test. Once you have finished it, under no circumstances are you to return here. If you hear your name being called, go on this path until you come to a building, upon which go inside it." He spoke, indicating the path behind him. "That is all, and good luck."
A man stepped up next to him (a guard, by the looks of it) and spoke in hushed tones to the aforementioned man before nodding and calling out from a scroll he had in front of him the first two names:
"Fred of Pinebush and Edmund of Hollybranch."
Oh, my! I'm going first! Not sure if this was a good thing or a bad one, Cliona stood up with Fred and followed the path to a building, which they entered. The cool air was welcome after the sweltering heat of the summer. Once her eyes had adjusted to the dim light, she saw that one half of a large room had three desks and a wall lined with books and the other half a bare wooden floor with fencing equipment on one wall.
"Good morning." The voice made the two pages jump; they hadn't seen anyone, or heard them either. "Go sit down at those two desks facing the central wall."
(The third desk was facing the other way, and upon examination, was the source of the voice; a man sitting behind it on a chair.)
They complied.
"You now see the parchment, ink, and quill pen in front of you. You do know how to read and write, correct?"
They both nodded.
"Good. You'd be surprised at how many pages don't. At any rate, on your paper number from one to seventy-five. You might need to use other sheets; that is fine. I will say a question, and you will write the answer by the proper number. For maths, you may use another sheet of paper for scrap, which will not be turned in. Do not communicate in any manner with each other, and refrain from cheating. Understood?"
"Yes," they said in unison.
"Alright, we may begin then. Question number one: what is the name of the ruler under which our borders expanded a total of one hundred miles?"
Oh, this is easy! Good thing father drilled me as he did on history and maths!
"Two: name the four fiefs of our country that are listed in the Book of Gold."
It went on as such, covering all sorts of topics until number seventy-five was reached and finished.
"Good. Now bring them here. You are now to go to that side of the room, and follow the instructions of the person waiting for you. You are still not permitted to converse with each other."
"Yes, sir."
The other side of the room was host to an entirely different sort of testing. A woman with brown curly hair stood in the shadows, beckoning them closer. She had the look of a fighter, and the stance of one too. She must've been a Shang warrior, because they are the only ones who accept women, thought Cliona.
"Hello. The instructions of this test are to perform to the best of your ability the tasks I set before you in the most efficient manner possible. I will be recording observations. Start with twenty press-ups and then thirty curl ups. Do them properly. Begin."
Immediately Cliona and Fred scrambled to comply. This isn't so bad. It's a good thing I practiced these before bed every night for the past year.
Indeed, it was true; she had practiced them in preparation to hopefully fulfill her dream Once they had completed that and many jumping/twisting maneuvers as well as strength and flexibility exercises, the strange woman let them stop to breathe (if only for a few seconds).
"Now we will progress to unarmed combat. When I say begin, I want you two to duel each other not using any weapons except your own body. You will be graded on the number of punches you land on the opponent, etc. The match will stop either on my say so, or if one of you collapses with exhaustion or injury. Begin."
It was a good thing that the Shang master had taught Cliona for a while. After all, as it was, she and Fred were both pretty much matched for skill. Punches and kicks flew at a ferocious pace (for two eleven year olds, anyway). It was impressive, and ended only when the lady told them to (it had gone on for what seemed like an hour or so, and neither of them were remotely close to beating the other).
"Now, sword fighting; your last test with me before I send you on your way to the next station. Has either of you learned a bit of it before?"
Fred nodded, but Cliona shook her head. Though her begging and pleading had gotten her a month of training with a Shang master, it did nothing when it came to sword fighting or any other marshal art.
"Well, I'll take that into account. Here are your swords" – she handed one to each of them – "and this match is to have the same rules as the last. Begin."
It was over considerably sooner than the last match; they were both tiring, and Cliona's lack of experience soon showed (though she used all of her might and strength that was left in her). Despite that, it didn't go too badly, considering her background with swords: none.
"Alright. You may be done."
Cliona sagged with the effort of standing up – her tummy and throat were both on fire (from muscle cramps and dehydration, respectively), not to mention her arms, feet, legs… well, the whole rest of her body.
"Now. You are not entirely done yet. You will proceed through these doors where your next instructions will be given. No talking."
Wearily, they trudged to the doors. Upon opening them and crossing the threshold, their eyes smarted from the light and heat that they were then accosted with from the outdoors. Shielding their eyes, they stumbled forward down the well-trodden path to yet another practice yard and a stern faced guy.
"Hello." Cliona recognized the face and the voice from the guard at the Palace gate. He identified her too, which made him narrow his eyes; he still hadn't forgotten the monstrous headache he had had for hours (almost days) after the strange vision he had received (which had occurred right before she came to the gate).
"Well. Here is your next task: archery. You will be given five arrows each and a longbow. Stand on those lines" – he pointed out two white lines on the lawn – "and shoot each arrow into your respective targets. You have ten minutes to do so. Here are your arrows" – they were promptly handed over – "begin."
Cliona settled into that relaxed state of mind she had when she practiced archery. One, two, three, four, five. All of her arrows left in quick succession from her bow, all but two buried into the bull's eye. Those two weren't even that far from the center. Fred had taken longer, and his arrows didn't all find the center of the target either.
Commander Evin made notes in his journal before directing them further along the dirt passageway to the stables. Their next, and final, task was to be overseen by yet another stern-faced, graying, and yet commanding man.
"Mount up onto these two horses."
They did so, with only a little difficulty from their aching muscles.
"Alright. Ride along this fence in circles. Don't stop, and do what I tell you to do. If you fall off, jump right beck on and continue with the assessment. Begin at a canter."
They did so, going from walk to trot to canter to gallop and back again several times, occasionally jumping a fence or two. Just as she thought she could take it no longer, he called for them to stop.
"Go on back to the stables and properly groom your horses. The man there, George (A/N: this man has no relation to the George in Tamora Pierce's books in case you're wondering), will make sure you do it properly. Don't talk."
Even more wearily than before, Cliona trekked up the impossibly high hill (which, on any other given day when she was refreshed, would've seemed quite small), and groomed her mount under the watchful eye of the hostler George. He seemed nicer than the other men, for it was with a smile that he said,
"Alright lads. You must be weary. Nap all you like, but make sure to be at dinner on time. Hot baths are waiting for you in your rooms. You may now talk with each other."
Now, being aloud to talk was all very well, but not for these two: neither could muster up the ability to do so. Hence, it was in a companionable silence that they went back to the pages' wing for a bit of rest and relaxation.