A/N: So, here we go. Some of you may be asking, why so many updates in such a short amount of time? Well, it's because my plot gremlins are going crazy, and in a week or so, I'll be out of town, so the opportunity to update, maybe even write, will be next to nonexistent.

Thanks for reviewing: The Booknerds, TheRealProtector, and idleness

The months between Mid-Winter, and the exams seems to disappear in a blink. As she expected, no page failed the exams. Fianola and Alan bugged her every day, asking when they would get their knight-masters, as no knight had approached them, two days after the exam. Francesca didn't answer, and feeling annoyed convinced them to duel each other, telling them that would mean their future knight-masters would approach them.

She leaned against the fence with Traver and Liam, watching the two new squires. She ignored her friends' suggestion that she tell Lokak about being a seer, telling them that she'd never intended to tell them, and why in Shakith's name would she tell someone else?

"Who's expected to win?" A voice nearby asked. Turning, Francesca found Lord Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak.

"Could be either, my lord." Francesca responded. "Alan is taller, but Fianola works harder."

"Are you next up?" He asked, sounding amused.

"No, my lord. I just thought I come watch the show."

"Oh? Is seeing them dual so entertaining?"

"No, but rumor has it that Alan's mom is sending a potential knight master to speak with him. His reaction. That is the show I want to see."

Lord Raoul chuckled and leaned on the fence next to her. Francesca found that she wasn't uncomfortable at all, perhaps because she knew who –

"Oomph," she said, stumbling forward as Rain catapulted onto her back, yowling. "What are you," she began, as he launched himself off her back and shoulder, and straight towards a small flock of sparrows who shrieked and scattered, before coming back to attack him.

"Stop that," Francesca ordered crossly as Rain swiped at them. "Leave them be, they live here too. If you're hungry, why not go hunting for more than a mouthful." She scolded the feline, while saving him from the birds. Rain hissed at something that growled in response. Glancing up she saw a very ugly dog. One ear war tattered, the tail was twice broke and it was covered with scars.

"Jump, Nari, that's enough," a voice ordered. Francesca picked up Rain before looking for the voice. When she did she felt her throat go dry.

Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan smile slightly at her. Francesca's eyes dropped as she gave a quick bow and muttered a greeting, before she scurried away, trying to hide between Traver and Liam. Rain was making it difficult, as he was complaining loudly. Finally Fianola and Alan stopped the duel to tell her to shut up the bobcat.

"I can't make him anything," she told them for what felt like the millionth time.

"A bobcat makes a strange pet," Lord Raoul remarked cheerfully. "Though not as strange as a griffin."

"He's not a pet," Francesca said.

"He wasn't a pet, sir." Lady Keladry said at the same time.

Fianola and Alan seeing that their audience had grown stopped the duel to greet the two knights. Francesca did her best to hide, but was unsuccessful when Rain wouldn't shut up. Finally she dropped him, with a threat of a bath if he attacked the sparrows again. He didn't, but Francesca realized that she'd gained both knight's attention.

"He's very smart for a wild animal," Keladry said. "Has he been around the palace long?"

"No, my lady," Francesca muttered.

"Francesca found him near her home," Alan explained to both knights. "She has a maid that has wild magic with cats, and Rain has followed her around since."

"Rain," Lord Raoul asked, Alan shrugged.

"He didn't have a name when I found him," Francesca muttered. "Milli said that wild animals only get names that say something about them. It was raining when I found him, so I called him 'Rain'" the girl shrugged, feeling uncomfortable.

She fidgeted trying to find a tactful way to escape.

"Francesca's shy," Traver explained, drawing even more attention to her. Francesca wondered if she would be able to escape the situation at all.

She thought about just turning tail and running, when a boy of about twelve walked up. She frowned at him, he looked vaguely familiar, but where… When she realized where she'd seen the boy before, she felt extremely light-headed. She'd seen him in a vision. The one about the Protector of the Small. Her eyes shot to the Lady Knight, and the irony of the situation was not lost on her.

Lady Keladry, as she'd once told her friends, was her ideal knight-mistress. The Protector of the Small was a shadowy figure that terrified her; of course they would be one in the same. The only thing that prevented Francesca from running right then was the chance – however slim, that she was wrong. That the Protector of the Small and the Lady Knight were not the same person.

"There's our dear Protector of the Small," a cheerful voice called out. The lady knight made a face and turned to face the new comers. Alan, remembering the talk they'd had about prophecies glanced at Francesca to find her walking away so fast she might as well be running.

Looking at Fianola, Liam and Traver, Alan realized that he wasn't the only one to see Francesca's escape. The four excused themselves to go find their friend. They found her seated on the floor, back against the wall, head resting on her knees and arms around her legs. Rain was pawing at her, making questioning cat-like noises.

"Francesca," Fianola asked. "What are you doing?"

"Wondering, if it is possible to breathe so fast, that you actual are not breathing, and how quickly and painlessly a death that is. What are you doing?"

"Why," Liam asked, nonplussed.

"Call it a hobby," she replied dryly. Raising her head Francesca gave her friends what she hoped passed as a smile. "I'm fine," she assured them, standing up. "I've got to finish packing." Francesca shooed Traver and Liam away, and sent Alan back to the knights, all without her friends releasing that she'd done so. She and Fianola were heading back towards the page's wing, when Fianola grimaced and placed one hand over her abdomen.

"Cramps," Francesca asked with sympathy. Fianola nodded, making a face. "I have some willow tea, if you want some."

"Thanks, but save it for yourself. I think I'll go get some from the healer's." With a wave she headed off, Francesca felt confident that her friends would soon have their knight-masters.

It was not long after she returned to her room that someone knocked on her door. When she opened it, Alan grinned at her. "You knew," he accused.

"Knew what," she responded with false innocence.

Shaking his head, Alan told her. "Lord Raoul is my knight-master."

"Congratulations," Francesca went back to packing. "By the way, you won the bet."

Laughing, Alan told her, "One day something's going to happen, and you're not going to know about it before hand."

"That happens all the time," she responded breezily. "So, you'll find that I am not concerned."

He left then, still laughing. On her way to dinner that evening, Fianola called out to her.

"Francesca!" the girl turned to find Fianola bouncing, eyes bright with excitement.

"What," she asked her friend, though she already knew.

"A knight just approached me!" the newly made squire all but squealed. Francesca had to bit her lip to stop from laughing.

"Who," she asked, not telling her friend that Alan had beaten her to getting a knight master.

"Sir Nealan of Queenscove," Fianola told her. "He's the lady knight's best friend, that's almost as good. And I have a knight master before Alan, so I win our bet."

"That's great," Francesca told her. "But… Alan wins the bet."

"What, no. Who?"

"Sir Raoul," Fianola scowled.

"That's cheating," the squire grumbled, Francesca chuckled. The two women continued walking, Fianola's mood dampened slightly. When she saw Alan in the mess, she scowled and looked as though she contemplating throwing something at him.

They next day, the pages left on the summer training camp. To her intense relief, the training camp was uneventful, with one brief exception.

Francesca began to map the area the training master had assigned their group, ignoring the other pages. In addition to Liam, and Marrek of Irontown, in Francesca's group was Gian of Genlith, Hamrath of Runnerspring, Lofren of Meron, and Oswel of Irenroha; the four pages who had attacked her earlier in the year. She wasn't worried that any of them would try anything – they never did when others were around. Moving closer to the edge of a cliff that dropped down into a river, Francesca quickly sketched that part of her map. As she was about to move away from the edge, she heard a low giggle – the type that someone can't quite suppress when they're about to do something that they know they shouldn't.

She was unable to turn fast enough to see who pushed her over the edge. Yelp of surprise was torn from her as she fell. She scrabbled at the cliff face, trying to find a hand or foot hold. When she found one, Francesca managed to hang on for barely a minute, before the rock broke in her hand. Her back slammed into something solid, knocking the breath from her, when water didn't swallow her, Francesca hazily realized that she hadn't fallen into the river. When she could breathe, she slowly sat up and looked around. She'd landed on a small ledge that she'd not seen from the top. Hearing shouts she peered up, several pages peered over the edge, clearly trying to see where she'd entered the water.

Taking a deep breath, despite her protesting ribs and lungs, Francesca called up to them, waving her arms. When they saw her one of them – Liam shouted for her to stay there.

"Where does he think I'm gonna go," she asked herself, shaking her head and looking around. She was about twenty feet from the water, and closer to thirty feet from the top. If she hadn't caught that handhold halfway down, then she probably would be dead. Reason told her that she probably shouldn't be moving, the adrenaline from the fall might be masking serious injuries. All of the pages carried rope, but she didn't think that any of it would be long enough…Francesca blinked and realized that she'd been staring at nothing for sometime.

Mentally shaking herself, she took stock of her injuries; her entire back felt like one big bruise, her fingernails all were cracked or torn, and she had a headache. She also felt lightheaded. She dismissed it as unimportant. She looked down at the water again. She was nearly positive that this was the same river that flowed by their camp, and the current was headed in the right direction. Maybe she should just jump in and let the water carry her back? Her head hurt, and was becoming harder to ignore.

She heard someone from the top – Liam? – call her name, and toss down the rope. They'd tied together the lengths of rope that each page carried. For some reason it struck Francesca as funny, the same boy who'd pushed her, now had to help her. She had to bite her lip hard to stop from laughing aloud. Gingerly, she took the rope; she tied it around her waist, and used the rest of it to help her climb.

It was hard work, several times she found herself wondering what she was doing, and why she'd taken this route instead of the river. Sweat, warm and sticky ran down her back, which was odd because she was also shivering. When she finally reached the top, Francesca stumbled away from the edge and sat down, hard. She blinked at the others; Liam offered her a water skin. Taking it, Francesca sipped it, still trying to figure out why she was sitting when she'd not told her legs to fold.

"You're bleeding," Marrek exclaimed, and Francesca winced. He was loud.

"Just a bit," she responded, then frowned. Her voice sounded funny. "Besides, it's no big deal."

"No big deal," Liam demanded, seeming just as concerned as Marrek. Why did they care if her hands were bleeding?

"It's just my hands," she told them, holding up the appendages in question. "I can take care of it later."

They all stared at her. "Francesca," Liam began slowly, as if she was a skittish animal that may bolt. "Your head is bleeding…heavily."

Francesca blinked at him slowly. When his words had processed she simply said, "Oh, no wonder my head hurts." When no one moved or said anything, Francesca felt the need to add. "I should probably stop the bleeding."

Francesca wasn't quite sure how she and the other pages got back to the camp, they entire trip being a blur, she only realized that they were in the camp when the training master demanded to know what had happened.

Francesca blinked up at him, and, since no one else had, answered him. "I fell," when the training master, and the two Shang masters stared at her, Francesca felt compelled to add. "Off a cliff."

Still no one said anything; the other pages seemed to be trying to figure out what to say, their teachers seemed to be trying to figure out whom to punish and how severely.

"Is my head still bleeding," she asked Liam, to break the silence. "I think it's still bleeding. And I'm tired. Where's Rain?"

Liam quickly said something about Francesca talking non-sense about rain since she fell, which Francesca didn't understand. Something was tickling the back of her mind…something about Rain, and they training master… Letting it go as unimportant, Francesca tried to pay attention to what the others were saying around her.

Before long, all the pages were back and on horseback, heading towards the nearest village. Confused, Francesca turned towards the Wildcat, who rode next to her, and watched her carefully.

"Why are we going to the village," Francesca asked, she was tired and wanted to sleep. Plus, the motion of the horse made her head hurt more.

"You need that head seen to," the Wildcat told her, from the tone of her voice, Francesca felt as though the answer should have been obvious. "There aren't any healers' with us." Francesca nodded, and then winced as her head pounded.

Francesca allowed her mind to drift, as it was too much work to focus on one thing, or anything. She was off Snowstorm and swept into a small building before she had a chance to protest. When the healer walked in, Francesca blinked at him, before scowling towards the Wildcat, who kept poking her sharply, whenever Francesca was almost asleep. For some reason he looked familiar, but she couldn't quite…

"Oh," she said in a light voice. "The healer; of course." She'd seen this man in the Protector of the Small vision. Looking past the healer, she saw Fianola.

"What happened," the healer asked, Francesca belatedly realized that it was Sir Nealan.

"I fell," she told him, thinking that as a healer he should have figured out that much for himself.

"Like you 'fell', last year and broke your arm," Fianola asked sarcastically.

Francesca frowned at her, "No," she said in her most reasonable tone. "Then I was jumped by four others. This time I fell off a cliff." She paused and added. "I shouldn't have said that."

"How did you fall off a cliff," Francesca wasn't sure who said that. Sir Nealan seemed to be working on her head, the pain was disappearing and the relief was shocking.

"Someone pushed me, how else, I certainly didn't throw myself off a cliff," she responded practically.

"Stop talking," Sir Nealan ordered. Francesca stopped talking, mostly because her head began to pound again.

Francesca wasn't sure how much time had passed when she realized that Sir Nealan stepped away and nodded, signaling to the Wildcat that his work was done. Her head still felt tender, and she had a headache, but she wasn't having trouble focusing, and didn't feel light-headed anymore.

"Thank you," she said to the knight.

"Get a proper healer to look at it when you return to Corus," he ordered.

"May I go wash now," Francesca asked the Shang master that stood next to her. "And change?"

When the Wildcat nodded Francesca went to find her pack, then the bathhouse in the village.

Later, when the training master questioned her, Francesca had to tell him repeatedly that she did not know who'd pushed her. Francesca had played with the idea of denying that anyone had pushed her, but decided that it was pointless, since the Wildcat had heard her tell Fianola and Sir Nealan that she'd been push. None of the boys claimed to have seen who'd done it either. Francesca believed that Liam and Marrek didn't know, but she did not trust the other four. All of the boys in her group, as a result, were given punishment work for the remainder of the training camp, and to be continued when they returned in the fall.

When the training camp was over, Francesca did as Sir Nealan had ordered, and was told that she should be fine, so long as she doesn't take another bump to the head any time soon. With relief, Francesca realized that she had two months to relax before she needed to face the four boys who'd tried to kill her.