-a/n-I'm going to start this chapter as I do nearly every other one –with a massive apology! Hockey, A levels and uni applications have taken over my life, so much so that it's difficult setting aside hours for sleep let alone writing! Anyway I've taken advantage of an unusually quiet weekend to bring another chapter to you all!
Thanks so much to every single person that's leave a review or messaged me bugging me to update, as always this chapter's for you!
Confusedknight xx
The desert was pleasantly warm, the sun hanging weak in the cerulean sky. A lone figure was silhouetted against the sunrise, a sword whipping around in motions only a warrior could understand. Garbed in a sleeveless shirt and cut-off breeches, her feet snug in worn comfy shoes, Kel exercised relentlessly, her hardened muscles barely noticing the exertion.
For Kel swordplay had become an obsession, one that consumed her with a voracious appetite. The King's tournament was a goal that blazed in her mind's eye; it was the only possible way Kel could see of revealing herself and gaining any recognition for her cause. It was, as it always was, her single-minded determination that saw her through the long, relentless days of training.
There was not a man or woman in the Bloody Hawk Tribe, nor any of the visiting warriors that could best Kel in swordplay. She trained so long and so hard that at the end of the day all she could do was collapse in her tent and sleep off her aches and pains in preparation for another day of exercise.
Bringing the drill to a halt will a final sweep of her dusty blade, Kel squinted at the sky, wondering how long she'd been practising for. She had agreed to join the tribesmen in their quest for desert antelope, and hoped that they hadn't left without her.
She jogged the short distance back to the Bazhir camp, loving the feeling of her muscles contracting, the steady thud of her heart, and the ease at which she could move. Kel had never felt in such good condition before.
The men were still milling around the campsite and Saleem, a fresh-faced boy whom Kel had been helping with his staff work had readied Prince so that when Kel appeared she simply had to accept a recurve bow and mount up.
Hunting for the tribe had done Kel's archery a world of good, and while no advanced bowman, she could at least hit a target with some semblance of accuracy. This skill would be necessary when hunting antelope; fast, flighty creatures who would have to be hit with the first arrow or not at all.
As they moved out into the barren desert the hooves of fourteen horses kicked up sand in great clouds. Guiding their horses with their legs, the men tied scarves around their faces. Sighing Kel followed suit, deciding that breathing through the cloying material was better than inhaling hot grit.
Living in the desert seemed to condemn you to spend your days perpetually dust stained and sweaty, and although the heat had not yet reached the level that she'd endured on the plantation, as summer drew ever nearer the temperatures soared. Fortunately, her skin, so tanned and weathered from Scanra was no longer burning and instead freckles bloomed daily, multiplying at an alarming rate.
Noticing that she was dropping behind, Kel wiped sweat from her brow and squeezed at the worn saddle beneath her thighs, urging Prince onwards. She rode easily, naturally, rising and falling in time to the large horse's gait.
There were regular challenges to race and at these times the fourteen horses would thunder forward, Kel in their midst. There was so much dust that Kel could barely see where she was going, and rode blind, adrenalin surging through her body. Prince, despite his bulk could not best the light-boned mares of the Bazhir, but Kel felt privately that when it came to battle she would prefer the comfort of all of Prince's seventeen hands and muscle.
As Kel rode her thoughts inevitably wandered back to the city with the gleaming castle, and all the possibilities that it encompassed. It was only when the hunters reached the oasis, over and hour later that Kel sat up in her saddle and concentrated upon the hunt.
Following the noiseless hand signals of the group's leader Kel moved seamlessly into place and slotted an arrow to her bowstring. Hers would be the shot to startle the antelope out of the leafy undergrowth. She drew back, the wood of the bow curving easily under the tension and released the arrow with a soft twang.
It all happened so fast that Kel was glad she was not one of the hunters aiming for a target. The deer practically flew from the undergrowth in panic. Thirteen arrows flew in synchrony. Six decent sized antelope dropped. The sheer speed of the animals meant that it was testimony to the hunter's skills that any had been shot at all.
Collecting their prizes and tying them firmly to their horses, the men left in high spirits; the tribe would eat well tonight. As they cantered back across the ever-shifting sands the leader called out victorious cries which were echoed by the others. Kel supposed it was the equivalent of scanran singing; sharing emotions to unify a group of people.
That night under a dark canvas punctuated only by the pin-pricks of stars and the luminescent moon the Bloody Hawk feasted. Wrapped in her cloak to ward off the night's chill, Kel leaned back, feeling the sand support her and peered up at the heavens, trying to decipher constellations.
The cat perched mischievous next to the Goddess which stretched for eons across the sky. It was something visual that connected Kel's many, bizarre lives and identities. If Alex looked up at the sky right now he would see the nearly same as Kel. If only Kel could see him instead of a collection of stars…
'Oooh' exclaimed Laila. Her initial shout was matched by others as stars whipped across the heavens in a radiant shower.
'The God's are blessing us tonight,' exclaimed Hakim, 'This is good luck indeed.'
Good luck, mused Kel. Was it a sign? She didn't think so; more a freak event, but all the same, Kel decided that she'd spent too long in one place. Tomorrow she'd return, at last to Corus.
Woodenly, Kel placed one foot in front of the other, her leather boots making no noise against the grubby sandstone road. Prince walked slowly beside her, his velvety muzzle turned to the wind, inhaling the scents of this new city.
To Kel the road was a familiar one, though never had she taken it at such a slow pace. Trying to distract herself from the looming city wall, she turned her eyes to the verges where beggars littered the grass like discarded objects.
They stepped into the shadow cast by the vast city walls and unable to stop her legs they entered the capital of Tortall. No bells rang out, no one acknowledged her return, but a wave of feelings washed over Kel all the same. She was back. Nearly four years later, after a more incredible journey that she could ever have imagined her legs were carrying her up the main street of Tortall. The very street by which a smaller, more innocent and naïve version of Kel had left in a carriage bound for the convent.
The difference between these "Kels" was so marked that she had difficultly in equating the two, in remembering a time when she was blissfully unaware of the horrors of the world.
Every step seemed to last an eternity, her heart thudding, afraid perhaps that someone she had once known would jump out from one of the shadowy side streets and recognise her. Kel was unsure why this recognition scared her so. Could it be because it meant finally linking the person she was now with 'Keladry of Mindelan', the identity she had travelled so far to leave behind?
As she steadily made her way through Prettybone district a gaggle of children came running past her, laughing and absorbed in a game with rules that only they could understand. It was by no means an easy life living in the poorer districts of Corus but these children were all making their way back from school. They had been given a chance at education, a chance to rise above the slums and ramshackle housing from which they came.
They crossed Kingsbridge, Kel feeling like she was trapped in an absurd dream, transported back in time to the place she'd been before. Barges and ships floated gently down the Olorun, their ruddy-faced sailors waving to the children that picked their way along the muddy banks and flats, searching for anything that the river had left behind.
On the other side of the bridge Kel entered the lower city, home to the worst of the slums, several markets and the court of the Rogue.
'Pretty horsey,' called a voice to Kel's left. Kel started and looked around to see a gap-toothed girl who grinned at her from atop a fence. Kel led Prince to the side of the road, and with an amazed look on her face the girl reached up to pat Prince's face. He snorted gently and the girl let out a happy gurgle.
'I've never gotten to touch a big horsey before,' she informed Kel.
'This is Prince' offered Kel.
'I'm Karlah,' she told the horse, using a grubby fist to wipe her dribbling nose.
'Say Karlah, do you know a place where Prince and I can stay?'
'Me Ma works at the Jugged Hare,' she mumbled, still intent upon feeling everything from Prince's whiskers to his forelock and mane.
Tolerant, the big gentle horse endured the small podgy fingers probing and stroking.
'Where's the Jugged Hare?'
'Jus' up there,' said the girl in a tone of disbelief. 'Where're you from?'
'Far away,' replied Kel, brushing hair from her eyes.
'Have you seen the sea?' asked Karlah. 'Me pa's at sea, Ma says one day I'll getta see the sea.'
'Aren't you lucky then!' said Kel. 'Where exactly is the Jugged Hare?'
'You speak funny,' giggled the girl, 'I'll take ya there.'
Kel followed her small friend as she skipped up the street. Smells of the lower city assaulted Kel in a wave of stale beer, piss and strong spices. Despite the run-down houses and rambling shops that they passed, the Jugged Hare, situated near Kingsbridge, on the corner of Palace way and the sprawling Daymarket, was a respectable looking place. With a cheery wave, Karlah scampered up the road, calling to a gang of filthy children playing with a skipping rope.
The Jugged Hare had a small courtyard tucked behind the Inn and Kel handed Prince over to an hostler, a copper coin flashing once in the sunlight before being snatched away into the youth's grimy hand.
With a creak and a small tinkling of a bell Kel entered the tavern. The room smelt faintly of wood smoke and Kel was relieved to find that the unsavoury smells of the lower city had not permeated the dark, comfy looking room. Tables surrounded by cushioned chairs filled up most of the floor space. The bar was made of a dark, glossy wood, and clean tankards and bottles of alcohol were lined along the back wall. On the other walls old hunting equipment, trophies and paintings were hung at random, covering the plain wooden surfaces.
'Can I help you miss?' asked a portly man, wiping his hands on his apron.
'I'm looking for a room,' said Kel, although she wasn't sure how long it was that she'd be staying; it was still two months until the tournament.
'I think you can end your search righ' here ma'am. We've got a lovely room, jus' five coppers a night.' He beckoned Kel through a small side door into hallway. She followed him up the carpeted stairs to an even smaller door set at the end of the second floor corridor.
A key appeared from beneath the man's apron, presumably from a pocket in his breeches and was stuffed into the lock.
'Mind yer head miss,' he cautioned, as Kel ducked under the wooden frame.
Despite the ridiculous size of the door, the room that lay behind it was big enough for Kel's use and sunlight streamed in through a large rectangular, lead-paned window.
'This should be fine,' murmured Kel, setting her pack down on the bed.
'Jolly good,' he said slightly tiredly. 'You can settle payment later on.' The man bowed, handed her the key and left.
Five coppers a night wasn't a large sum of money, not considering the large stash of gold Alex had bestowed upon her. Sitting down on the bed, Kel flopped backwards, examining the patterns in the wooden ceiling absent-mindedly.
A little while later, freshened up from a hurried sponge bath, and dressed in the most decent shirt and breeches she owned, Kel could be found perched on the window seat, peering down at the street below. She watched the Tortallans go by with mild interest, wondering who they were and where they were going. Were their futures all laid ahead of them she wondered, or was she not the only one who struggled to find her way in this complicated world? She had spent so long fumbling along in the dark, surviving and living day by day and although she had tentatively decided on the way forward, it would by no means be easy, or pleasant.
Sighing, and knowing that she was achieving nothing sitting moping in her room, she stood up and exited the homely inn. Once Kel had checked upon Prince, she decided to take a walk through the streets of the city she had once loved above all others.
Her feet soft on the cobbles, Kel passed unnoticed through her surreal surroundings, treading up Palace Way. This street was smart; a pretty front to please the nobility who never had to venture into the stinking slums that lay at the heart of the lower city. Traders, priests, message runners and soldiers moved around Kel without a second glance. She was nondescript, insignificant to them all. As she walked her mind tried to grasp the concept that nothing about this ancient city had changed.
Walking at such a slow, meandering pace, it took Kel nearly twenty-five minutes to reach the great palace gates. She stopped at the side of the road and stared. The memory that had faded came flooding back and Kel took in every turret, every tower of the palaces impressive architecture.
Mighty flags that furled and unfurled themselves in the snappy breeze announced the presence of both monarchs. Kel's old life, her old friends seemed so tangibly close, that she might reach out and suddenly they'd all be standing there, unchanged.
Two horses came trotting past Kel and she leapt back, disturbed from her reverie. The two men astride the horses were so muscular and full of self-importance, tossing the palace guard a silver noble lazily, that they could only have been knights.
Kel snorted in disgust. What was she doing here? Trying to wish the past away? Hadn't she proved over and over that you didn't have to be a knight to help people? Shaking her head at her own folly and at the waste of valuable training time, Kel strode more purposefully back to the main districts of the city.
It did not take long for Kel to seek out a practise court where she could train in peace, unobserved. The dilapidated training space and archery range was located on the border of Flash and Unicorn districts. It was mainly used by poor soldiers who aspired to become guards or retired soldiers looking to remain fit once their service days were over.
Renting a recurve bow, Kel was also able to practise her archery at times when the practise courts were too crowded. She occasionally duelled against other people, but more often that not she spent hours in front of a mirror working on her technique, speed and agility.
Every afternoon she would take Prince for a ride, quickly leaving behind the city and its confined spaces. They would gallop across the fields that lay to the north of the city and Kel revelled in the freedom that such excursions gave her. The city was suffocating after her time spent with the Bazhir, and although her situation was somewhat better than it had been in Scanra, everywhere she turned things reminded her of memories, painful memories.
One day she had walked warily down the street on which her parents' house stood. She had loitered in the shadows for nearly thirty minutes, until the front door opened and she fled, not wanting to catch even so much of a glimpse of any member of her family.
In the evenings she ate mainly at the Jugged Hare, quickly learning that the food was tasty and filling. The evening meal also gave her an opportunity to socialise; the many hours spent practising and wandering the city were lonely.
Taking up a comfortable seat with Berne and his wife, who were visiting the city on business matters, Kel enquired after their day. At some point during the conversation, Karlah's mother, a short woman with a mass of curly hair, came over to take their order. Kel chose the steak pie and watched Yvenne return to the kitchen. The Jugged Hare was particularly busy this evening. A group of moderately well dressed men were crowded around a table in one corner. There was also a family dining, some other regulars and several men drinking at the bar.
Kel stretched her legs subtly under the table, settling back in her chair, comfortable and contented to listen to the bantering between Berne and Lorna.
'Where are you from?' asked Lorna, directing their conversation Kel's way.
'Up north,' Kel replied vaguely.
Berne nodded knowledgeably, 'You have a slight accent you know, it's not obvious at first, it's only on certain words.'
'Really?' this was news to Kel, who assumed that her Tortallan was untainted despite the years spent speaking foreign languages. Fortunately three large pies arrived before this topic could continue further and prevented Kel from having to lie about where she came from.
'So do you come to Corus often?' she asked after a few mouthfuls of the excellent dish.
'A couple of times a year, mainly for business, but sometimes to visit Lorna's mother,' replied the man, dabbing the sauce from the corners of his mouth.
Kel nodded and was about to take another bite of her meal, when a loud shout made her pause. Almost as though she could sense something about to happen, Kel laid down her fork with a clatter and twisted in her chair. There seemed to be a disagreement among the large and slightly drunk men at the bar.
'Now if we all jez calm down,' said the barman, trying to alleviate the tension. The men ignored him and one, the largest and Kel presumed the stupidest, leapt at one of the other men. As with all such fights, within seconds punches were flying everywhere, furniture splintering as it crashed to the floor.
The family at the next table looked terrified and Kel stood up, assessing the situation. Bar fights could escalate in minutes and she didn't know how long it would take for the Provost's guard to arrive. Looking at the terrified family in the corner, Kel stood up.
Not wishing to draw her sword; swords were for causing serious injuries, Kel grabbed a broom that rested against a nearby wall and hefted it. Wielding the long wooden pole as she might a glaive, Kel swung it experimentally towards the nearest brawler and rapped him sharply on the head. He plummeted like a brick in water. Pleased at the broom's effectiveness she set about trying to break up the fight.
Kel's concentration was firmly settled on avoiding the wild swings of drunken men, but out of the corner of her eye she was aware of a few other men getting involved, prying makeshift weapons from the fighter's hands and knocking heads together.
It didn't take long for the large and clumsy broom to be wrenched from Kel's hands and after that she had to rely on her fists to incapacitate the shouting thugs.
Eventually the fight thinned and the more sensible men fled, fearing the arrival of the guard. Kel stepped back and flexed her bruised knuckles. Now that the danger to bystanders had passed, she smiled. It had been a good fight on her half and as a result of her strict training regime she was barely out of breath.
'Nice work there,' panted a good-looking man, brushing brown hair from a tanned face.
'Likewise,' said Kel ducking her head an inch and sidling back to her dinner.
A minute later a guard with a rat-like face appeared, his partner trailing behind him.
'Nice of you to turn up,' commented the handsome man's elder companion. 'You missed a tidy fight.'
The guard grunted and set to work hobbling any brawlers who were coming painfully back to consciousness. 'Well it seems you've got everything under control here,' mumbled the second guard, helping his partner to firmly tie the law-breakers hands behind their backs.
Kel ate her steak barely looking up at the guards, keeping her head down. The last thing she would want to do would be to have to stand up in court and testify against the men so that the Jugged Hare could claim compensation for the tables and chairs that had fallen victim to the fight.
Excusing herself as soon as her meal was done, Kel returned to the safety and peace of her room.
A couple of days later, when the memory of the scuffle in the Inn had all but faded away, the smashed chairs replaced and the crowd of regulars back at the tables, Kel found herself watching several young lads take part in an arm-wrestling competition,
The current champion sat arrogantly at the table, a pile of coins heaped in front of him, calling loudly to the rest of the tavern. She couldn't resist. Kel tossed a copper coin onto the table and sat down opposite the man.
Ignoring the rude remarks and mutterings Kel set her elbow on the table. When the champion hesitated, her eyebrows rose, mocking and challenging. A large, clammy hand enclosed hers and on the count of three they began to wrestle.
Kel gritted her teeth and let the man strain with all his might against her arm. He was strong, but she held on, scrunching up her toes and tensing her leg muscles with the effort. She was waiting, biding her time. A scanran soldier, whose name Kel couldn't remember had taught her the trick of waiting until that brief moment of respite, when the muscle pauses momentarily before exerting another contraction. She felt the slight decrease in pressure and pounced, driving forward until the man had no choice but to let his hand slam into the table.
All rude remarks and jeering stopped, and the pub fell strangely quiet. Satisfied, Kel scraped the pile of coins towards her; she could split the money between the children begging on Mutt Piddle Lane.
'Well this makes a nice change,' remarked a well-spoken voice.
The owner of the voice seated himself in the recently vacated chair opposite Kel. To her surprise it was the attractive man who'd complimented her the other evening after the tavern brawl.
He continued, flashing Kel a dazzling smile, 'It's not often I get an excuse to hold a pretty girl's hand.'
He placed his own coin on the table and their hands entwined. Kel noted that this man's hand was much pleasanter to hold than its clammy predecessor, and a strange tingly sensation entered the pit of her stomach. Kel firmly ignored it.
Kel did not expect to win this fight. A good seven inches taller than she was, this man's forearm was solid and bulky. Even with her trick Kel could not best him and soon it was her hand that smashed into the table. Kel slid her hand from underneath his much bigger one, and ignoring the urge to massage her painful muscles, she pushed the coins his way and stood up.
Sighing and feeling that she'd find somewhere else to eat this evening Kel stepped out into the cool air.
'Hey wait up,' called someone from behind her. She knew it was her victor before she'd even turned around.
'What?' It wasn't a rude reply, more curious.
Kel's last opponent held out a handful of coins to her. 'Here, I owe you.'
Confused she stared back into his blue eyes.
'Someone had to beat that arrogant little swine,' he explained, 'you saved me from having to hold his hand.'
'Keep your money,' said Kel, turning to continue on up the street.
'Well if you won't accept the money then at least let me buy you dinner,' he called, 'I know a lovely place…'
Kel stared at him and he took the opportunity to jog to catch up with her.
'Go on humour me,' he encouraged.
'Where is this place?' asked Kel, both cautious and curious at the same time.
'Not too far.'
As they walked he introduced himself as Domitan of Masbolle. Kel wasn't surprised to have her suspicions confirmed; that he was nobility, but she was shocked at the fact that his family was from the book of Gold; she had expected him to be from a minor fief. In this case she supposed that he must be a younger son, otherwise he'd be a knight.
'And I have the pleasure of accompanying?'
'Lia,' Kel introduced herself.
Dom ambled along beside her and the conversation flowed easily. He seemed easy-going and quick to laugh. As they reached the edge of the lower city, Dom flipped a coin to a young boy dressed in filthy clothing. It was this act of kindness; so many nobles ignored commoners that settled any misgivings she had about going to dine with a noble.
The restaurant was in Patten district and was much smaller that the Jugged Hare. Its owner seemed to know Dom for when they entered, the man called 'A table for two Sergeant?'
Half way through the first course, Kel voiced a question that had been nagging her.
'Why did you invite me here?' she asked directly.
He looked up, blue eyes latching on to her hazel ones.
'Do I need a reason to invite a pretty woman out for dinner?'
'I'm sure there are plenty of pretty women up there,' Kel nodded her head in the direction of the Palace.
'Ah, but how many of them can help break up a bar fight?' he asked smiling in his laidback fashion.
'I'm sure plenty of the queen's riders…'Kel started to argue, but Dom overran her.
'Eat up, there's plenty more coming. Stop worrying, I invited you for dinner and some company. I'm not going to seduce you or hold you hostage.'
Kel grinned, at the joke, 'I'd like to see you try.'
'Is that a challenge?' he asked winking.
Kel looked back at her dinner to prevent herself from blushing. She would have to be careful; she found it all too easy to be relaxed in Dom's company, and the man was a terrible flirt. He's probably got all the ladies falling head over heels in love with him, she thought. This stays at friendship and nothing more.
After their meal they sat and chatted for a long time. Kel refused any alcoholic drinks and instead sipped at fruit juice. When they finally left the restaurant, Dom insisted on walking her back to the Jugged Hare.
'What are you doing tomorrow evening?' he asked.
Kel shrugged, failing to stifle a yawn. It had been a long day; she'd been up at sunrise training and it had been a long day.
'I was planning to ask a lady to accompany me to dinner,' he announced, 'but evidently she finds my company boring.'
'No,' protested Kel, and Dom grinned wickedly. 'I'll pick you up from here around the seventh bell tomorrow.'
And before Kel could protest, he strode off down the street, whistling merrily.
(-a/n- Another chapter done! Finally! And we draw ever nearer to the tournament, which makes me very, very excited :D As always I'll do my best to update whenever I can, keep prodding me though –you have no idea how much your messages encourage me!)
Please leave a review! It's been a while and I'd love to hear from you all,
Confusedknight xx