The Practice Courts Continued
Alanna continued reading;
When the next bell of the morning rang, they moved to another practice yard. A short black man in the maroon and beige uniform of the palace guard waited for them beside a barrel filled with long wooden staffs.
Finally, everyone would get to see Kel practice with a staff!
Each of the pages selected one as he passed by.
"I am Sergeant Obafem Ezeko," announced the uniformed black man in unaccented Common. "Formerly weapons instructor to the Imperial Guard of Carthak, now serving the crown of Tortall. Lord Wyldon and I will instruct you in the use of various weapons. Pair up. You new ones at this end of the line. Cleon of Kennan and Vinson of Genlith, come up here to demonstrate."
Cleon was the big, redheaded boy
"Petal, why is it all you refer to me as is 'big redheaded boy', surely you could think of a more endearing description!"
Kel laughed at Cleon "To be honest Cleon I didn't really like you as a page, you were always making me fetch things for you! And calling me silly nicknames like petal."
Kel's year mates laughed at poor Cleon.
who was Esmond of Nicoline's sponsor. He went to stand beside the sergeant, spinning his staff idly in his hands. Vinson faced off with him. He was a bony, tall youth. Kel had seen him eating with the handsome Joren
"How dare you Kel! Joren, handsome?!" shouted Neal, with all the flair of a player.
Alanna just continued to read, raising her voice a little to drown out Neal's protestations.
at supper and breakfast.
"Show them a high block," instructed the sergeant. "Vinson defending, Cleon striking."
Neal whooped, "You go Cleon, you go!"
Cleon pulled his staff back and swung it first up, then down. The blow he'd aimed would have struck Vinson on the head or collarbone if it had landed. Instead Vinson gripped his staff, his hands spread wide apart, and raised the weapon a few inches over his head. Cleon's staff met his with a loud clack.
Alanna was speed reading through all of this, trying to get to the bit where Kel beat up all the boys!
"Observe the strike," the sergeant told them. "Again, Cleon." The big youth repeated the strike, moving slowly. Kel nodded, watching the way his hands shifted on the smooth wood as he lowered it to tap Vinson's skull. From the way Vinson scowled at the bigger youth, Cleon's tap was a little harder than necessary.
"Yes Cleon!" cheered Merric and Owen.
"Your turn," barked Ezeko. He watched as the assembled pages did the strike. The newest boys were clumsy, although they should have had staff practice from their family men-at-arms. Kel was comfortable with the move.
Of course she was, thought Wyldon drily.
The only difference between this and the strike of a Yamani glaive, the weapon she knew best, was that she had no razor-sharp eighteen inches of steel at the end of her staff.
"Repeat the high block, Vinson," ordered the sergeant. Everyone watched as Vinson moved his hands apart on the staff and thrust it hard into the air, stopping just three inches over his head. He angled the staff down on the right to shield his face as well as his head. The sergeant made everyone do the same movement. He then had Cleon and Vinson demonstrate the middle strike and block, which centered on the chest and belly, and the low combination, to attack and defend the legs. Each time he made the pages try the moves.
Once they had practiced each movement, Ezeko had them stand in two lines. The newest pages were paired together. Neal, who was still new despite having been there during the spring and early summer, was partnered with Seaver of Tasride, the dark-haired, dark-eyed boy who looked as if he had a Bazhir ancestor. Kel was paired with redheaded Merric of Hollyrose. He was short, compact, and intent on their exercise. Kel licked her lips and settled the weapon in her hands.
"Left line strikes; right line blocks," the sergeant told them. He walked along the double line of pages, checking everyone's hold on the staffs. After he'd changed some boys' grips and nodded approval for others, he stepped back. "To my count," he bellowed. "High! Middle! Low!" Staffs clacked as the exercise began and wood met wood. "High! Middle! Low!"
Kel struck carefully. Proving herself tough on a smaller opponent wasn't right, and Merric looked nervous.
"Jeeze Kel, thanks for the vote of confidence," muttered the aforementioned disgruntled and embarrassed red-head.
The lightness of the staff bothered her. A Yamani glaive was far heavier. She knew that if sheforgot she held a lighter pole, she would hit too hard.
"Faster! Swing 'em!" cried the sergeant. "I want to hear wood clack! You don't master the staff, you'll never master the sword. High! Middle! Low!" Over and over he chanted, increasing the speed. Kel bit her lip, locking her attention on the weapon.
"Ow!" someone cried as wood struck flesh.
Every warrior in the room flinched, familiar with the sharp flash of pain from a staff hitting fingers.
A few moments later there was another yelp.
"Keep going!" yelled Ezeko. "If your fingers hadn't been in the way, they wouldn't have gotten hit. Move 'em apart! The rest of you don't need me to count, do you? High, middle, low! I want to hear those staffs beat as one, understand me?"
They had been at it long enough to begin to sweat when Lord Wyldon came into the yard. He and Ezeko walked up and down the two lines of pages. Wyldon changed Prince Roald's footing. Ezeko corrected Esmond of Nicoline's grip. Wyldon thrust Neal's high block higher. They reviewed and changed each boy's work until they got to Kel and Merric. Rather than speak to them or change the way they exchanged blocks and strikes, both men turned and went back up the line, inspecting and correcting the other boys a second time.
"That was hardly fair sir, punishing both Kel and me by refraining from giving us feedback!"
Wyldon replied in an ashamed tone, "To be honest Merric, you and Keladry were doing quite well on your own. But I guess I wasn't quite ready to interact with the young female, probationary page."
Kel watched them go; Merric banged her fingers as a result. When she looked at him, he glared at her.
Merric was glaring at Kel now, blaming her for the fact that he was being humiliated.
Kel look at Merric incredulously, "It wasn't my fault they ignored us!"
It wasn't my fault they ignored us, she wanted to protest. She didn't. Warriors didn't make excuses. "Switch places!" cried Ezeko when he reached the far end of the line of pages. They all stopped andrepositioned themselves. Ezeko began the chant again. "High! Middle! Low!"
Merric seemed glad to be the one to hit. His blows fell harder and faster than the count, forcing Kel to respond in kind. Their rhythm fell out of time with their classmates'. Kel knew the men saw it, but they continued to focus their attention on the other pages. She kept up with Merric, blocking his strikes easily. She'd already attracted enough attention for one morning.
"Enough," said Lord Wyldon at last.
"Next," the sergeant informed them, "you will use strikes and blocks in combination. This time, strike your partner, then block his return strike."
"Change partners," added Wyldon. "Older pages, pair with the new ones, and see if you can better their speed. Come on, switch pairs!"
Ooh, this was sure to be interesting, thought Alanna.
The boys looked around, trying to get to the partners they wanted before someone else did. Unsure of what to do, Kel remained where she was. When everyone formed into two lines once again, she was facing the beautiful Joren.
"Would you stop complimenting Joren and ignoring my ridiculous good looks and charms!" protested Neal.
Seeing that Kel stared at him, Joren smiled.
"Ah Kel, not good, not good. Joren is not going to be an easy fight!" came a worried protest from, presumably, one of her year mates.
Kel hid her confusion. The day before, Neal had told her that Joren thought girls did not belong there. Now Joren smiled at her as if she were his friend. Does he want to make amends? she wondered.
"Hmph, fat chance, Kel," Alanna paused her reading to comment. "When I revealed myself to be a woman once I got my Knighthood, I was constantly challenged to spar by Conservatives, who would approach me benevolently enough, then attack me viciously. At least I was able to hold my ground; and it was good practice for my time as King's Champion!"
Alanna had faced her fair share of conservatives challenging Jon's rule as King's Champion - and never once had she failed to honour her King.
"Get to it," Ezeko ordered. "Right line starts with a high strike. Left line does a high block, then a high strike. Right line, high block, then high strike. Older lads, go slow with the new ones. Strike! Block! Strike! Block! Nealan, stop flinching - if you get hit, you get hit. Strike! Block! Strike! Block!" He kept them at that for a few moments. Joren politely tapped his staff on Kel's as she blocked him; Kel then returned the hit and was blocked by Joren. They continued the rhythm easily.
"Lulling you into a false sense of security, how cruel," muttered her mother.
"Switch to middle strike, middle block on my mark," Wyldon ordered. "Ready... middle strike! Middle block! Strike-King's Reach, stand still! You don't get dancing lessons till later."
Faleron flushed with embarrassment as Neal hummed the tune to a classic dance song, often played at court events.
Ezeko picked up the count. After a while they switched to putting low strikes against low blocks.
Kel relaxed. Joren was a good partner, meeting her with just the right amount of force. They traded blows and blocks easily, which gave Kel time to study him. Joren had to be the prettiest boy she'd ever seen.
Neal opened his mouth to protest, but Alanna absent-mindedly shot out a flare of purple magic which bound itself around Neal's mouth and lower face.
For all that he was older, a third-year page, he was only an inch taller, his gorgeous blue eyes
Neal's hazel eyes glared at Kel.
nearly level with hers. He'd combed back his long, white-blond hair and secured it in a horsetail for the mornings work. If he were a player, Kel thought, they'd have him doing the young god Balcus Starsworn all the time.
Suddenly Joren's staff shifted under hers, sliding out of position for a block. He drove the lower end ofhis weapon under her guard, aiming for her ribs. Kel foiled him by stepping out of line.
"Back in place, probationer," barked Wyldon.
Wyldon sighed, he should have expected the older pages, especially Joren's cronies, to play all sorts of hazing tricks on Kel, and as a Knight, he should have been more honourable in stopping Kel being targeted. He had really been blinded by his prejudice.
The exercise changed again, this time to a high strike against a high block, then a middle strike and middle block, followed by a low strike and low block. The speed picked up as well. More and more pages, not all first-years, began to make mistakes.
Ezeko stood by her and Joren, yelling out the count. Kel took up the rhythm of the exercise, but now all of her senses were alert. When the pair next to them lost track of which block followed which strike, the sergeant moved to them. In the next moment Kel struck low and felt Joren's staff glide out from under hers. He swung his staff around and up, slamming it down at her collarbone. She whipped the foot of her staff up and around her arm to deflect him.
"This isn't a game, probationer!" snapped Wyldon. "Stick to the drill!"
Alanna looked up from the scrolls, her intense purple gaze piercing Wyldon's soul.
Kel saw a mocking gleam in Joren's eyes. So Neal was right, she thought. He isn't nice at all.
"Aren't I always right, dear Kel?" he managed to say, presumably having used his own gift to remove Alanna's binding.
"Why of course, Sir Neal, have no fear, for now I have learnt to always pay the utmost attention to all the wisdom that flows from your divine mouth!" Kel responded satirically.
Neal himself looked quite chuffed, not realising Kel had been jesting with him, until Dom pointed out to Neal that Kel never referred to him as Sir Neal, and in fact that no one referred to him as Sir Neal!
Joren held to the drill, but now each block had more force behind it, making it a block and a blow. Each time he struck he was a little closer to her. Will they yell at him if he drives me back? Kel wondered. Or will they only yell if I move out of line?
Jon was angry now; it really wasn't fair that Kel would think this - that she would be treated differently as a female, probationary page; but unfortunately that was the harsh reality of her first year as a page.
"Come on, Queenscove!" cried Zahir, the tall young Bazhir page. "Stop flinching!"
Now it was Neal's turn to be embarrassed.
Kel glanced over: Zahir was driving Neal out of the line of boys, his staff a blur in the air. Neal was blocking Zahir's strikes, but just barely.
Wyldon and Ezeko went to Neal and Zahir just as the tip of Joren's staff banged into Kel's cheekbone. He forced her backward, striking hard. She kept her fingers away from his weapon, thinking fast. If Wyldon or the sergeant wasn't going to put a stop to this, she had to.
"Wyldon, it's quire ridiculous that an 11 year old page should have to take steps to protect herself, when you were so absent in monitoring her training." Criticised Jon.
She turned to the side, forcing Joren to move out of line to keep up. In turning, she discovered that the other boys had gathered around Zahir and Neal. They formed a kind of wall in front of Joren and Kel. Neither of the teachers would be able to see what Joren was doing until they forced the pages to form lines again.
Alanna kept reading, but couldn't help think that this was a classic Ralon move! She wished that she had been able to observe Kel and warn her about the tricks of men like Ralon and Joren.
Joren hit Kel hard and fast, raining blows on her. "Do you like this?" he demanded breathlessly as he pressed her. "Do you think you can keep up? Why don't you go home?"
Kel almost felt sorry for Joren. He had treated her horrifically, but it was clear to her that this was due to his upbringing. His father was a notorious, hard-right conservative, and raised his sons to be conservatives and his daughters to be submissive, convent wives.
"I belong here," Kel said grimly. She gave way before him, pushing his strikes to either side, thrusting their power away from her. "Just like the Lioness."
Alanna read this with pride; although she hadn't intended to be an inspiration for noble girls, Kel had obviously been inspired by her!
"Your precious Lioness is a mage and a cheat,"
Alanna had to raise her voice to read the next sentence, as half the hall rose up in anger!
sneered Joren, hate making him ugly.
"I know I shouldn't be hatin' the dead an' all, but what a little prick, aye! How dare he say that about ye Alanna, ye were anythin' but a cheat; reluctant to prove herself usin' yer gift an' all!" Came George's immediate, irate response.
He tried thrusting his staff past her blocks. When she intercepted him, he'd swing to the side hoping to smash her ribs. Kel saw they had almost reached the barn that served as one wall of the yard. She would have to do something when they got there.
The butt of Joren's staff caught the big muscle in her left thigh. Kel winced, thinking that she'd had just about enough. Joren was all right with a staff, but he wasn't one of the emperor's ladies.
Neal guffawed, imagining Joren's reaction to hearing this!
Yuki, Shinko and Ilane silently agreed with Kel, pride evident in their eyes.
Her brother had warned her against showing off her Yamani skills, but surely he didn't mean for her to lie down for a bully.
"I certainly did not!" Anders was quite defensive of his younger sister, even though he knew that she was a better warrior than him.
"Why don't you just get out while you can still walk?" Joren whispered as Kel ran into the barn. He faked a strike at her knee. When she blocked it, he turned his staff over, driving it at her ribs. This time Kel swung her weapon across her chest, pushing Joren's staff into the clear air at her side.
Everyone was quite impressed with Kel's skills. They all knew she was incredibly talented now with her glaive, but to read about her defeating a later year page, was quite inspiration.
Joren recovered, slightly off balance, and swung the butt of his weapon toward her ribs again.
Kel pivoted to the side, letting Joren's momentum carry him toward the barn. Holding her staff near the top, she thrust its low end between Joren's calves. He crashed face-first into the building.
Alanna was reading this last paragraph with pride. She was so happy that Kel was able to hold her own.
He spun - he was quick, she admitted - and struck at her wildly.
I'm done being polite, she thought grimly.
"Ah, there's the Kel we all know and love!" Dom praised, in a slightly too amorous tone for the public surroundings. He quickly amended his statement; "Erm, us boys in the Own always loved you for you stubborn determination." No one noticed his mistake apart from the sharp ears of Ilane of Mindalen. She had suspected that her daughter had taken a lover, I mean she was a young woman of her early 20s, but she wasn't quite sure that she approved of notorious ladies' man, Domitan of Masbolle.
This time she thrust her staff under Joren's and up, between his hands. A quick twisting jerk yanked the wood from his grip and sent it flying. Kel then drove her staff toward the flesh at the base of his neck.
There she let it rest. As Joren slid away from her along the barn, she followed, keeping the light pressure on his windpipe. If she'd had a glaive rather than a staff, she might have given him a scratch to make sure that he remembered the lesson.
Every single person in the room was applauding Kel! On her first day of training she was already proving herself!
"What on earth are you doing?" she heard Wyldon snap. "That was not staff work as it is practiced here!"
Neal criticised Lord Wyldon, "Ugh, here comes the Stump, always ready to save the day…? More like ruin any progress being made."
Joren looked at him over Kel's shoulder. Kel kept her eyes on Joren, not trusting him.
"She trained in the palace of the Yamani emperor." The dry voice belonged to Eda Bell, the Shang Wildcat. "They're taught the use of a long-bladed pike - a glaive - there. How old were you when you started, Keladry?"
"Six," Kel replied. She finally lowered her staff and faced Wyldon.
The training master was red with anger. "This is Tortall, not the Yamani Islands - you are a noble, not a savage with a pigsticker.
Yuki and Shinko chose to ignore the slight made about their people, however, Queen Thayet was not a polite, Palace-reared noble-woman.
Being a foreigner herself, she took it upon herself to hurl insults at the ex-training master, resenting Jon for allowing all of this to happen in their home!
You will follow the assigned drills, understand? No Yamani cartwheels, no sleight of hand."
"Yamani cartwheels," scoffed Shinko.
"It might be wise to teach Yamani methods," said Hakuin, the Shang Horse. Both he and the Wildcat leaned against the fence. Wyldon's claim that Yamanis were savages hadn't changed Hakuin's cheery look. He added, "You are friends with the Islands now, but that hasn't always been so. Even with a royal marriage arranged, there are always misunderstandings."
"In fact," submitted Thayet, "that is half the reason a Royal marriage was arranged!"
"I will take your words under advisement," Wyldon said tersely. "If we may now resume practice? With no more displays?"
But a pole arm makes it possible for a smaller warrior to take a big one, thought Kel, surprised by his attitude. That's why the imperial ladies are taught it, to save their honor and that of their charges.
Thayet's mind was racing with possibilities. Her next reform that she desperately wanted to implement was to adapt the Convent to a more progressive style of teaching.
She wanted to introduce self-defence and arts other than sewing such as use of pole arms and horse riding, so that women could feel confident in themselves, and perhaps join up with the Queen's Ladies - a group she desperately wanted to expand.
"You practice with the probationer, Nealan," ordered Ezeko. "All of you, back in position!"
After more time spent on staff work, in pairs and alone, Wyldon and the pages ran down the long slope behind the palace to the archery range. Kel stayed away from him. After her bout with Joren, it had seemed that every time she turned around, Wyldon was ordering her to adjust her grip on her staff, change her stance, get her blocks higher, strike lower.
Although it was good he was finally paying attention to her, Kel was disgruntled at Wyldon's lack of fairness.
It wasn't right - he wasn't correcting the boys nearly as much as he did her - but she vowed she wouldn't let him know she thought so. She would prove that she could take whatever he threw at her.
Wyldon sighed. She had already proven that, and he felt that the reading of the next few scrolls would serve to only further discredit his training.
At the archery range, she promised herself that she would not let any of the things she had learned in the Islands affect her work here. She might have carried it off if she had been able to go at her own pace. She knew she was in trouble when the archery master told them that since they were expected to already know how to use a longbow, he wanted them to pick up their speed. He was everywhere, urging the pages to be quick, quick!
Soon everyone knew that when Kel got flustered, she gripped her bow in the wrong spot, two-thirds of the way down.
Daine sighed. As a talented archer herself, Kel needed to make sure she didn't get flustered and focused on the task at hand.
Rushed, she drew the string with her thumb, not her index and middle fingers. She forgot that she used a short bow, and pulled the string back so far that the arrow dropped away. She bit her tongue and said nothing of the differences between Yamani archery and Tortallan. It's not like I was any good with a Yamani bow, she told herself. After Wyldon's comments about foreigners, Kel let him think she made silly errors as she concentrated on correcting her draw and her handling of the arrow.
Stone, she told herself as she picked up a dropped arrow, hearing giggles. For a moment she was five again, listening to the Yamani children laugh and tease the clumsy foreign barbarian.
Shinko spoke up for the first time since the beginning of the reading. She had been largely occupied with the bundle wrapped in her arms. Lianokami of Conté had come onto this earth not 2 moons before. She had pitch black hair, as dark as her grandfather's and mother's and striking blue, almond shaped eyes, that reflected the candle-lit room like lapis-lazuli.
"Oh Kel," she laughed, "it is funny how Yuki and I were among this Yamani children who used to laugh at you, the clumsy, foreign, barbarian, for what I was I, when I arrived in Tortall, but a clumsy, foreign, barbarian!"
"Cricket," Kel responded, "why do you think I tried so hard to make sure you and Roald had a happy betrothal - so that no one would tease you, so that they would accept you, as they did me in the end."
Ilane and Piers were so proud of their daughter - the Knight with exceptional diplomatic skills!
They accepted me in the end, she told herself. These boys will, too.
"Riding!" called Wyldon when the bell sounded the end of the class. "New boys, pick a mount from the spares.
"Enter evil, savage, flesh-eating, monstrous beast" drawled Neal.
That horse will be yours to look after and ride for now. Saddle your mount and ride him out. Don't take forever!"
The pages set off for the stable at a trot. Halfway there, Kel noticed that the other four new pages were running full out to reach the stable first.
"Rookie error, Kel!"
She picked up her pace, knowing they wanted to beat her to the best choices of the spares. The group of older pages running ahead of her spread out and sloweddown, blocking her without appearing to know she wanted to pass. When she got to the pages' stable, the new boys had made their selections. Their sponsors lounged in front of the stalls as if they dared Kel to even look at the others' selections.
They had left her two options. One was a chestnut mare with dull, uninterested eyes and a slumped stance. You could be after her a whole week before she'd take a step, thought Kel. The other horse was a small destrier, larger than most of the other mounts but not as big as the warhorses ridden by knights. A gelding, he was a strawberry roan: red-brown stockings, face, mane, and tail, and a white-flecked reddish coat.
Neal flinched at the description of Peachblossom, looking at his toes. He had in fact suffered a blow to his feet from Peachblossom just yesterday, and they were still aching, despite his best attempts to heal them.
His attention was fixed on Kel, and there was a calculating look in his eyes. There were large scars on his legs and sides. White-haired spots on his back showed where he'd been saddled improperly in the past.
Kel and Daine both smiled at this not so flattering description of Peachblossom. Now an elderly horse of 15 or so, Daine had arranged for Peachblossom to have a perfect 'retirement'. He now spent his days leisurely with the ponies of the Queen's Riders, and his evenings 'catching up' with his previous Master.
The other pages were halfway done saddling their mounts. Neal worked on his horse, a neat brown mare, as he kept an eye on Kel.
"Always keeping an eye on me, you were Neal, when in fact it was I who should have kept an eye on you."
Kel advanced to the dull-eyed mare, hand outstretched. She had to thrust it under the mare's nose before the horse would so much as sniff.
"She's the one you want," a man said, coming out of the shadows at the back of the stable. His clothes were spiked with hay and splashed with dried slobber, his blond hair looked as if horses grazed on it. Light blue eyes bulged slightly in his reddish face. The dull mare ambled over and nuzzled him. "She's a bit slow, but she's steady. Peachblossom there's ruined for knight's work - maybe ruined for work at all."
Kel smiled, happy that she had proven him wrong.
He shook his head, eyes sad. "Dunno what I'll do with 'im if he won't take to cart or plow. They're after me to free up his box for when the new mounts come next week."
Daine shook her head at this assessment of the animals. That was something she really ought to get her self more involved with; the selection of horses for pages - she could help match them up properly, with regard to the animal's desire and personality! She could also help avoid the cruelty which had been Peachblossom's destiny.
Kel could see it in the stableman's face: he did know what he would have to do. Horses cost money to keep. If they didn't pay for their stall and feed by working, unless they were good for stud they were put down.
Daine was proud of Kel for helping Peachblossom avoid this fate.
She walked over to the gelding. Reaching into her pocket, she brought out the apple she'd put there and offered it to Peachblossom. The horse spent more time examining her than sniffing the treat, but he took the apple all the same.
"He won't bite, miss," said the hostler, coming over. "Not with me about. But I can't make him stay good, not without neglecting others. Sooner or later my effect on him will wear off. And he's got plenty of other tricks."
"I'll take - did you say Peachblossom?" she asked. "If he doesn't work out, I'll trade him for one of these new horses you're expecting."
Neal laughed, "Kel as soon as a you take on a stray, you work on it until they are better. You'd never abandon them."
Speaking of strays Kel had adopted she thought of Tobe. He'd been out riding with Loey, and presumably had been frozen in the time vortex that had consumed Tortall. Hopefully the Great Mother Goddess would bring him here in time for the reading of her time at New Hope.
"He's too big, miss," argued the hostler. "He's not for someone that's just learning how knights ride."
"Let me try, please," Kel replied. "I won't hurt him."
"It's not him I'm worried for," insisted the man.
"Have you made a choice, probationer?" demanded Wyldon. "We do ride today, remember."
Daine couldn't help but think that she should be present when Pages picked their horses to help match them.
The hostler grasped Peachblossom's head and laid his face on the horse's muzzle. "You'll be good, all right? I want you to, and sitting in here isn't what you're made for. Behave yourself, Peachblossom. You do know how."
"Debatable," grumbled Neal.
He released the horse and nodded to Kel. "He'll fare all right for a time, at least. If he gets shifty, tell him Stefan said 'be good.'" He ambled into the shadows at the stable's rear.
Kel found the gelding's tack and got to work saddling him. About to pull the girth tight, she found that Peachblossom was rounder than he'd first appeared.
Daine chuckled at the trick.
It was an old trick. The horse swallowed a bellyfull of air, making the saddle too loose, ensuring that the rider would slide off.
He's testing me, Kel thought. She kneed him in the belly. He turned and looked at her. "I'll tell Stefan on you," she whispered.
The horse blew out the air he'd sucked in. Kel cinched the girth tight. By the time Wyldon reached their end of the building, she and Peachblossom stood ready. Wyldon gazed at Kel and at the horse. If he thought the mount was too big and too hostile for Kel, he kept it to himself. Instead he ordered her toclean the tack well before she used it again. That done, he told the pages to lead their mounts outside and down the hill.
The practice yard was far enough from the stable that horses would not be forever trying to run for home. Kel was grateful for that. She was big for her age, but Peachblossom was big, too. If he raced for his stall she would flutter along behind him like a kite at the end of the rein.
The circle laughed at this image.
Wyldon and the riding master stood beside the open gate to the yard and observed as each page walked his mount through. Once everyone was inside, the riding master ordered them to form a line, with the horses' heads facing inward. After inspecting the horses, the riding master said quietly, "Mount up."
"I wonder if anyone has ever mounted down," Neal expressed sarcastically.
Has anyone ever mounted down? Kel wondered as she swung into the saddle. The moment she settled, she thought that perhaps she'd been rash. Peachblossom's back was much wider than her pony's.
"Time was," Neal had explained the day before, "pages rode ponies till they were twelve or so. Our Stump, though, says that knights ride true horses, and so will pages. My father told me the number of broken bones from horse accidents has quadrupled since Wyldon became training master."
Baird, ever the cynic, wasn't so sure this was just due to Wyldon's rash decision to make boys of 10 ride warhorses, but also due to his previous style of training, which had, let's be honest, created a set of cruel and egotistical squires, set never to succeed in the Chamber of the Ordeal.
I should've taken the stupid one, thought Kel. This fellow is too much for me. Peachblossom sighed, as if he'd heard. Kel gritted her teeth. No. I'll keep him. He won't be pulling carts or killed for dogmeat, not while I have breath in my body.
Daine so appreciated Kel's resilience. It had saved Peachblossom - and most likely had saved Kel numerous occasions. Peachblossom had been such a protective warhorse for her.
Knights ride horses, so pages ride horses, she told herself, and sat tall. Peachblossom looked back at her as if to say, Don't get cocky.
"Walk 'em sunwise," ordered the riding master. "A foot between you and the next rider."
Kel tugged the reins. Peachblossom didn't move. She tugged harder. Gods, his mouth must be as hard as stone, she thought, and yanked. At last the gelding understood, just as Wyldon ordered, "Move him along, probationer!"
Peachblossom turned and walked forward as soon as Kel nudged his sides with her feet. He paced along so amiably that Kel risked a look around. Most of the other mounts were restless, fighting rein and bit. Feeling better as she watched their riders struggle, she turned her eyes ahead. Peachblossom was stretching out his neck, trying to bite Neal's brown mare.
Neal dramatically declared that Peachblossom had been after him from the get-go! Kel couldn't help but agree, however, Peachblossom's antics had become much more cheeky yet loving to Neal in their later years.
Kel shortened her reins, pulling his head up. "You won't fool me," she whispered. The horse flicked an ear back toward her, listening. "I have nieces and nephews!"
"Trot 'em," ordered the riding master.
Kel kept a watch on her mount. Peachblossom obviously could not be left to his own devices for so much as a breath. The remainder of the lesson was a series of contests between her and the tricky gelding.
When Kel waddled out of the stable, her legs feeling as if she still had a mountain between them, Wyldon stopped her. "The boys use the men's baths," he said without meeting her eyes. "We made arrangements for your bathing, for all that I feel it is a mistake to make even a single exception for you."
"And you will keep your opinions to yourself, Lord Wyldon," rebutted King Jon.
So is this fair? Kel wondered. He's treating me differently from them. But I feel better about washing up by myself... It was too much to think about.
"What did you expect, Keladry? That I'd force you to bathe naked with 30 teenage boys!" exclaimed Neal.
She rubbed her head wearily. He seemed to want an answer of some kind. "I understand, my lord," she told him.
He lifted his eyebrows, as if he doubted she understood. "You will find a bath ready in your chambers," he said. "I expect you to be on time for lunch."
Kel bowed. "If I may go then, my lord?"
He nodded. She looked at the long, sloping rise to the palace. "You would do better to run that," remarked Wyldon. "You need the exercise. But I do not require it of the lads, and I will not ask it of you."
You won't ask it, but I'll do it anyway, she thought stubbornly. You'll see. I'm as good as any boy. I'm better.
Slowly, her legs protesting every step of the way, she began to trot up the hill.
Everyone smiled at this classic example of Kel's determination in the face of Wyldon's prejudice. Kel meanwhile was grateful of Wyldon's insistence to challenge her for it had allowed her to flourish as a page!
Jon decided to take the scroll from his Champion's grip, reluctant to let her read another chapter, and eager to have a quick sneak peak into what the next chapter would be about.
The room quieted as the King's authoritative voice announced, "Chapter 4, Classrooms."
Hey guys, I hope you are enjoying this! I think First Test is going to be a bit tedious, as it's pretty obviously Wyldon being criticised, Kel being praised, Alanna being angry, Neal being cheeky. I can't wait to get further into the series to delve into some more complex issues, and I hope you will hang around to read that!
Thanks so much for your reviews, and for following my fic, it means so much
Emily.