And I'm back! Let me know which characters you guys would like to see read a chapter next! :)
"Chapter 4, Classrooms" read Jon.
Academic classes began after lunch, just as Kel began to feel her bruises.
In a genuinely inquisitive tone, Kel directed a question at Jon, "Your Majesty, why is it that classes are scheduled after practice. Surely it would be more reasonable to have classes in the morning then practices in the afternoon? To avoid bruises for one!"
Jon looked up from the scrolls to answer Kel, "That's just the way it's been done for hundreds of years, Lady Knight, and I guess the allure of trying for Knighthood remains to be the traditions, so try and avoid change."
Realising what he had just said, he quickly amended his explanation, "except where society has progressed to a point where change is obviously required, such as the presence of you trying for your Knighthood."
Kel, not entirely satisfied, understood that whilst a progressive at heart, the King couldn't make every change he wanted; and that why he had in fact put her on a probationary year.
Her first two classes - reading and writing, then mathematics - were taught by shaven-headed Mithran priests in bright orange robes. Not long after the pages' arrival, the teachers put them to work on their first written lessons of the year.
"History and the law of the realm,"
There was movement in the circle, and an elderly figure straightened up.
Neal murmured as they walked into their third class. "You'll like this!" He slapped a desk next to his. "Sit here. Sir Myles doesn't care where we put ourselves."
"Sir Myles?" she asked.
"Sir Myles, Baron of Olau, our teacher in history and law,"
Sir Myles, who had been dozing off throughout the readings, was now alert. Although still sharp in mind, age had definitely taken its toll on his body.
Alanna glanced at her father-in-law: his once mousy hair had whitened with age, his skin had darkened from decades of hard drinking as the court drunk, his stature had shrunk, but his large green-brown eyes remained focused and astute.
Neal explained. "Why do you ask?"
Kel ran her finger over a scratch on her desktop. "He's the Lioness's father,"
Myles, appreciating that people often only saw him as an extension of the King's Champion wittily remarked, "Why Keladry, you flatter me…"
Kel had the decency to look slightly ashamed, but Alanna stepped in; "Ignore my dear father, Lady Knight, he is simply jesting with you.'
she told him shyly. Seeing him would be almost as good as meeting Lady Alanna herself.
Kel looked further embarrassed at how extremely she was fan-girling over Alanna, whilst sitting in a room with said idol.
"Adoptive father, actually," Neal said as a small, chubby man entered the room. He was long-haired and bearded, dressed in a dark blue tunic over a dark gray linen shirt and gray hose.
His green-brown eyes were sharp as he looked over the pages.
"Here we are, trembling on the brink of a new year." Sir Myles ambled up to the front of the room and leaned against the wall. "I'm pleased to see no one swung his scythe too hard and cut off his own head-"
"But not for lack of trying!" joked the redheaded Cleon.
The knight raised gracefully curved brows. "You did not have to say that," he said mildly. "You would not be worthy to be a page if you were not always trying something." He perched on a tall stool. "Well," he said companionably, "we've had quite a year. Will someone explain why calling the recent deluge of battles the Immortals War is misleading?
Having been so central to the Immortals War, Numair and Daine were eager to hear such a well-respected scholar's perspective of the War, and perhaps, over dinner, discuss with him the war.
Your highness?"
Prince Roald ducked his head, but replied in a clear voice, "Because immortals-Stormwings, spidrens, ogres - were in the fight, but they were just allies to Scanrans, Copper Islanders, and Carthaki renegades. They weren't the leaders."
Sir Myles did not seem to care whether his students stood to answer. "Very good." The man looked around. "How many of your home fiefs took damage in the fighting?"
Hands went up, Kel's among them. No part of the realm was unscathed.
"How many know someone who was killed?"
Hands went up again.
Everyone in the room knew people who were killed during the Immortals War.
For Buri and Thayet, it was a member of the Queen's Riders, for Raoul and Dom, a member of the Own, for Neal it was his brothers. This list went on. The Immortals War had been a devastating war on Tortall, and every corner of the realm had felt the damage and repercussions of a war between humans and immortals alike.
Kel knew of two people in the village who had been cut to pieces by killer centaurs. Luckily her own family had been spared the loss of any members.
"These losses are felt,"
And they were, even 10 years after the conflict. Everyone was respectfully silent.
Sir Myles told them. "Their majesties honor their sacrifice, and we all wish that it had not been needed." As the hands went down he said briskly, "Why did this happen? How did Scanra, the Copper Isles, and the Carthaki rebels come to assault our shores? Joren?"
The handsome boy lounged at his desk, seemingly bored. "The King's Champion killed a Copper Island princess thirteen years ago."
"Well that's outrageous," Alanna's face was red with anger, and everyone felt a sudden heat spark from Alanna. Numair, Jon and Baird, those empowered with the most powerful gifts, could see tendrils of purple flame lick at Alanna's fists.
George, using his Sight, could also see Alanna's rage, and took a hold of her fist, flattening her hand, to calm her down.
"That is one reason: bad blood. It doesn't explain the Carthakis and the Scanrans."
Joren shrugged. "Scanrans always raid us. They don't need a reason."
"But they do have reasons," Sir Myles pointed out. "Pressing ones that send them against us year after year.
And, Myles thought, that should have been a huge reminder to us to take our Northern neighbours seriously, instead of dismissing all their attacks as 'raids'. They should have noticed the amalgamation of clans, the rise of a new leader, the enhanced supplies, the increased attacks. All of these were indicators to the chaos that would come from the conflict with Scanra, not 3 years ago.
Put the Carthakis aside for now. Consider our gentle neighbors to the north. What riches do they have?"
"Furs?" suggested Faleron.
"Rocks," added Cleon, who got the laugh he'd intended.
The discussion went on. It ranged from poor Scanrans with failed crops to the destruction of the old Carthaki emperor and the installation of the new one, Kaddar.
Daine smiled fondly at the mention to her Carthaki friend, whilst Numair scowled thinking not only of Kaddar's affection to Daine, but also of his tumultuous Carthaki history.
When the bell rang, it surprised Kel - she had lost all track of time.
"So what do you think of the king's spymaster?" Neal murmured in her ear as they left the classroom.
Kel came to a dead stop. "What?"
"Really, Sir Nealan, must you go an reveal all my secrets." teased said spymaster.
Neal smirked. "You didn't know. Myles of Olau isn't just a teacher and a member of the King's Council. He's King Jonathan's spymaster."
Baird took the opportunity to compliment Myles: "And the best spymaster the realm's had!" Myles acknowledged Baird, but also winked at George.
"You're making that up," she accused him.
"Why?" he asked. "My father says he's the best spymaster the realm's had.
"Opinions as strong as mine rarely change," affirmed Baird.
It comes from Sir Myles going into trade to mend the Olau finances. His merchants send him all kinds of information - he just expands on it."
Jonathon also took a moment to compliment his long trusted adviser: "You trade business has saved Tortall on more than one occasion, Myles."
Alanna continued "Yes, father, without your interference, I never would have found the Dominion jewel."
Raoul contined "And I never would have found Alanna at the Roof of the World."
Jon finished "And I never would've been crowned."
"Maybe you shouldn't tell," Kel pointed out. "Maybe it's supposed to be a secret."
Neal shrugged. "It's not talked of openly, but it's no secret. What's secret is who's his second in command, the one who does the legwork."
Luckily for Neal, practically everyone in the room was in the know.
Neal made eye contact with Myles' "second in command"; or rather the King's Secret Spymaster and winked.
During his Squirehood with Alanna, Neal had spent a lot of time either at the Swoop, travelling with Alanna and her husband, or at court with the Coopers, so he was quite familiar with the intimacies of Tortall's spy network - even participating in a mission or two with George's younger daughter Aly!
He steered her into yet another classroom.
Kel came to a full stop again. All thought of spies and secrets evaporated from her mind. One entire wall of this classroom was filled with windows. Two walls were lined with shelves of glass containers, which enclosed plants, water, food dishes, even animals or fish.
Daine, whose attention had been caught by the mention of animals, realised who Kel's next lesson would be with, and she was very excited to hear all about it.
Kel was glad to see that the other first-year pages seemed as amazed as she.
"Go ahead, look closer," Neal said. "Master Lindhall likes us to take an interest in the animals."
A small turtle was trying to bite Kel's index finger through glass when something white and clicky landed on her outstretched arm. It was a kind of living skeleton, a creature of bone and air. It had flown to perch on her, yet its wings were empty, slender fans made of very long finger bones. It gripped her arm with fossil claws. It tilted its long, pointed skull back and forth as if it were looking her over.
"Bone-dancer!" Exclaimed Daine. It was then that she realised she hand't visited Master Lindhall in a long while, and decided she would take Kitten to go see him once all of this reading nonsense was over with.
Leaning over, the thing clattered its jaws at her. Then it bit her nose so gently she felt only the barest pressure of its teeth.
"Bone!" A man strode over, brushing silvery blond hair from his eyes. "You must excuse Bonedancer," he told Kel in a soft and breathy voice. "There was no such thing as manners when he was alive, so he thinks he need not learn them now."
Bonedancer looked at him and clattered his jaws.
Kel looked at the skeleton, then at the man. He was nearly a foot taller than she, tanned and weathered, with broad cheeks and pale blue eyes. "I don't understand."
"Few do, Kel!"
The man smiled. "A mage was briefly granted the power to raise the dead last year. Bonedancer was one of the things she brought back to life. He was a fossil then, and a fossil he remains. He's just rather more lively than most fossils."
It sounded like an explanation, but Kel was not sure she understood. I'll ask Neal, she told herself.
"Oh Lady Knight, I am so flattered that you consider me the font of all wisdom!" proclaimed Neal dramatically.
Kel was turning to jar Neal with her elbows, but found herself beaten by Yuki who slapped Neal across the thighs with her shuhuksen again.
"Thank you, sir," she told the man politely.
"I'm Lindhall Reed," he said to her and to the other first years. "I am one of your teachers in the study of plants and animals. Have a seat, you new ones. As for everyone else, who has brought me a plant from home?" he asked. The older pages and Neal reached into their belt-purses to draw out leaves and stems wrapped in parchment.
Kel took a desk near the irritable turtle and waited for her head to stop spinning. She was positive that none of her brothers had mentioned flying skeletons when they talked about their studies.
Ander's explained that Lindhall had only arrived after he and Conal had tried for their Knighthood.
Daine furthered this explanation by describing how Lindhall had come back from Carthak with her and Numair before the Immortals War.
After Master Reed's class, those who possessed a magical Gift went to study magecraft. Kel and the magic-less pages had a class with Tkaa the basilisk.
Neal looked cheery at this. He had always wondered what went on in Tkaa's classes.
"For those who are new to the palace," the tall immortal began, "you should know that the king has decreed that those pages and squires without magic must learn to cope with magical things. You will have several teachers in this area. I will instruct you in the ways of immortals, of which I am one."
He bent down, until his large eyes gazed almost directly into Esmond of Nicoline's. "And immortals are...?" he inquired.
"Monsters?" replied the boy. He gasped, panicked.
Everyone burst out laughing at the boys carelessness.
"I mean-I beg pardon! Not monsters, of course not." He fell silent as the basilisk laid a paw gently on his shoulder.
"Beings from the divine realms, who may live forever unless they are killed in some way," Seaver said quietly.
"Very good," replied Tkaa.
"Some are monsters, sir," added Seaver, meeting Tkaa's gaze steadily. "My father was killed by a spidren." Kel thought of the one that she had faced at Mindelan and swallowed hard.
"My sympathies," replied the basilisk with a bow. "Spidrens are monstrous. Let me tell you of their creation, and of their habits."
The pages listened with fierce attention. Spidrens laired throughout the realm and were a deadly threat.
This information probably would have been useful to Kel about a month before this! Before she had been attacked by said deadly threat.
Their final class of the day was etiquette, taught by Upton Oakbridge, the royal master of ceremonies.
Kel and year mates ground simultaneously, joined unexpectedly by the older Knights. Sometimes it was funny to think that the King, his champion, his advisors among others had been through the same experiences as them.
The room was hot and the work so boring that Kel had to fight to stay awake. She ached all over from the morning's activity. The new pages were taught bows to nobles of different rank, which only made her muscles ache more. The older boys hid yawns as they practiced writing formal letters.
As the class drew to a close, everyone was given a book and assigned to report on its first chapter for the next day. When Kel saw the title, she grinned.
Oakbridge was on her like a cat. "What amuses you, probationary page?"
Kel chuckled at the memory.
Can't he pretend I'm just like everyone else? thought Kel as she got to her feet. "Nothing, sir."
"But you are amused, it was quite clear. You must share the joke with us, probationary page, now, if you please." He stood before her desk, one fist planted solidly on a hip. She could hear his foot tapping briskly.
"Master Oakbridge-"
"Lord Wyldon shall school you properly in the matter of excuses. I will accept no more evasion, probationary page!"
Kel opened the book and pointed to the author's name. "Sir, the writer is my father."
Piers' Yamani mask was broke by a smile. His book, written about the intricacies of the Yamani court, was very familiar to Kel, who having spent her childhood living at the Yamani Palace, understood Yamani etiquette.
The master of ceremonies snatched the book away and scowled at the title page. "What of that?" he demanded. "The child does not have all of his father's knowledge."
"Her father's knowledge," Kel corrected.
Neal joined Kel, simultaneously saying, "Kel doesn't have all of her father's knowedlge, not his."
All of her father's knowledge, thought Kel irritably.
"Excuse me, Master Oakbridge," Neal said in his friendliest voice, "but Kel doesn't have all of herfather's knowledge. Not his."
"Why aren't you just two peas in a pod," teased Dom.
Dropping her blank Yamani mask-face, Kel glared at him.
Neal looked up and noticed Kel was currently glaring at him.
Oakbridge also glared at Neal.
He looked around, and noticed everyone was glaring at him.
"The majority of you are lads. Proper usage calls for male pronouns when males are part of the group."
"Except, that he addressed Kel alone, which then demands the exact term," reminded Neal.
"Except that you addressed Kel alone, which then demands the exact term."
"Stop repeating yourself, Meathead!" teased Dom.
Kel clenched her hands behind her, where Master Oakbridge could not see them. She promised herself that from now on she would try to sit as close to Neal as possible. She could not kick someone eight chairs away.
Everyone laughed at this, especially as Kel did exactly that and kicked Neal.
Oakbridge gave Neal a look that would have stripped paint, then turned back to Kel. "You have not answered me," he said. "Have you your father's knowledge? You are but a child."
"Yamani etiquette is serious," Kel replied, her face once more Yamani-calm. "Especially at the emperor's court. People have their heads cut off if they don't bow right."
People looked in shock at Kel, Yuki and Shinko, but Jon just continued reading.
Oakbridge stared at her for a moment. Then he pursed his lips. "Review this entire volume tonight,probationary page Keladry," he announced. "Tomorrow you will report on those parts that are familiar to you, and which parts, if any, are not. Should I be satisfied as to the breadth and depth of your knowledge, I may call on you to assist me in preparing for courtesies to the Yamanis." To the pages he explained, "As I am certain his highness is well aware" - he looked at Prince Roald, who nodded - "their majesties have arranged for a state visit next fall by Princess Chisakami of the Yamani Empire.
Roald looked sad at this reminder of his betrothed's death. Although he had never met Chisakami, he had spent the better part of a year planning his marriage with her, and corresponding with her by letters.
His parents were reluctant to arrange a marriage for him, as they truly believed in marrying for love. But the marriage had been necessary, in Tortall's tumultuous political climate.
They had therefore instructed him to familiarise himself with Chisakami, so that when she arrived, he would feel like he already knew her, and their betrothal would not be so awkward.
When she arrives, we shall know how to greet her and her attendants properly, according to their own custom. To that end-"
The final bell of the afternoon rang. Kel gathered all her papers and books and followed the other pages out of the room.
Neal was waiting. "So, probationary page... " He grinned as Kel made a face. "How long did you live with the Yamanis?" They headed back to their rooms.
"Six years," she replied. "Longer than I've lived in Tortall, actually."
"Can you speak-" Neal began as they stopped before Kel's door. He interrupted himself to sniff the air. "What's that smell?"
Kel leaned closer to her door and sniffed. "Urine," she said. There was a pool of yellowish liquid on the threshold. "I'd better clean it up."
Wyldon looked ashamed, and rightly so thought Alanna.
"No," ordered Neal. "You have to change for supper. I'll tell Salma and meet you in the mess hall. Get moving." He trotted away, shaking his head.
Ilane and Piers were glad Kel had Neal to look after her. When she had written so passionately about her sponsor, Ilane and Piers had presumed that something romantic was blossoming between the two pages, and were actually disappointed when nothing had eventuated.
Kel juggled her school materials until she could pull out her key, then opened the door. At least none of the urine had leaked into the room; that was a blessing.
She closed the door with a sigh. What a disappointing day! Parts of the morning's exercise had been interesting, but the classwork was simply tedious. What good would etiquette do a knight? And how could she be expected to stay awake all afternoon when she'd been running all morning? Couldn't she just do the physical training and forget learning a whole new set of bows?
It is not your place to question what the masters want you to learn, she told herself. Your place is to obey. It was what her Yamani teachers would have said if they had heard Kel's unhappy thoughts.
I just wish obedience was more exciting, she told them silently as she began to change her clothes for supper. Is that so much to ask?
Once they had filled their trays, Kel and Neal went to the spot they had claimed as their own and sat. Kel picked up her fork, but Neal shook his head. She looked around. All of the boys had taken their places, but no one had begun to eat. She raised her eyebrows at Neal, who whispered, "No Stump."
Everyone fidgeted; Kel's stomach growled. At last the door opened. The squires jumped to their feet and bowed. Someone murmured, "The king."
Oh joy, Jon thought, the annual induction dinner. Jon resented this dinner, as he remembered the hundreds of dinners he and his year mates had had to wait for the King to eat, before they could. He didn't wish to inflict that on younger generations and had abolished the dinners for a reason. Wyldon had insisted on keeping one formal dinner a year, for traditions sake.
Then everyone was up and bowing as two men - the king and Lord Wyldon - walked up to Wyldon's small table. Kel stared at the ruler whose domain she wanted to serve so much. King Jonathan was the handsomest man she had ever seen.
Kel blushed at having said handsome man read this to about 30 of her friends, family, superiors and peers.
He was an inch shorter than Wyldon, but the training master faded beside him. King Jonathan's neatly trimmed hair and beard were coal-black, framing a face that was tan from a summer outdoors. His nose was straight and proud. His eyes were a deep, brilliant sapphire blue, framed by long lashes. On any other man those lashes might have seemed feminine; not on the king.
He grinned; white teeth flashed against the black of his beard.
"He is handsome, isn't he, Keladry?" teased Queen Thayet.
Kel sunk further into her seat, whilst everyone laughed at her obvious embarrassment.
"Don't let me keep you from your meal," he said in a clear baritone voice. "I remember what it was like from my own days at those tables."
"If your majesty will give the blessing?" asked Wyldon, half bowing.
The king nodded. He stepped up to the lectern, raising his hands. "Bright Mithros, Great Mother, all gods powerful and small, grant us your blessings and guidance, we humbly pray." He brought his hands together, and his audience realized he'd finished.
Everyone who knew Jon personally weren't surprised at his informality.
Those who had been around his Jon's father's reign had been impressed by Jon's ability to centralise his bureaucracy, creating an efficient and loyal set of advisers who aided the realm without the unnecessary cluttering of officials.
"So mote it be," responded the pages and squires raggedly. They had expected a longer prayer.
"Now eat," said the king. "After you're done, I'd like a word." He and the training master sat at LordWyldon's table. The fourth-year page whose task it was to wait on them rushed to put food before the two men.
Kel eased back onto her seat, her thoughts all in a jumble. She tried to sort them out as she ate. She wished she could ask the king why he had allowed Lord Wyldon to put her on probation for a year. In that original proclamation ten years ago, it was written that girls could try for their knight's shield; probation had not been mentioned. It wasn't fair, so why had he allowed it? Could she serve a king who wasn't just with her?
Jon's shock at Kel's thoughts pervaded into his reading. His disappointment in himself evident. How could a girl who was only just eleven have such profound thoughts; thoughts which pierced his heart and mind. For a King, to hear that one of his subjects did not find him just and fair, was horrendous. Reading these scrolls was making it clear to him what an injustice he had done to Keladry.
Chivalry worked two ways: you gave good service to your overlord, and in return your overlord honored your service and treated you honestly. None of this adding extra conditions when all you wanted was the same chance everyone else got.
I suppose I'll never find the courage to ask him why flat out, she thought sadly. I'll just bow and be polite like a good ambassador's daughter.
Jon looked up at his subject; Kel, we most definitely should talk once this is over, his look said.
I bet Neal wouldn't hesitate to ask. She looked at her sponsor and smiled in spite of herself. Neal was eating his cake as his vegetables got cold on his plate.
"Ugh, how many times will I need to tell you, Meathead, eat your bloody vegetables," scolded Kel.
"Whatever you say Mother…" was Neal's snarky reply. He loved how caring Kel was, and this past decade of their friendship, how although he hated how she forced him to eat his vegetables, he always knew she had his best interests at heart.
When everyone had finished, the king went to stand at the lectern again. "Don't get up," he said as everyone began to rise. "If memory serves me, your legs are starting to get sore right about now."
The circle chuckled.
A number of the boys chuckled. Kel looked at her hands, which were curled into fists in her lap. If you can't treat me properly, I'm not going to laugh at your jokes, she thought stubbornly.
Dom smiled at his strong-minded Kel's youthful determination. He wished he had known her as a page, as well as a Squire. From what he had read in Neal's letters during their time as pages together, she was quite the young girl!
"I won't keep you long," the king promised. "I really just wanted to look at you.
"We survived the Immortals War, as they're calling it. We survived, but at a price. You know as well as I how many knights were lost, how many crippled. Thanks to Lord Wyldon, you older pages and squires were also able to fight, to defend our people. You did well - but I can see there are faces gone from this room who were present last fall. We shall miss those who are gone.
"Our enemies tried to destroy us. They failed - but we are hurt. Inside these walls, I can tell you, we are hurt. Our healing will be the work of years."
No one spoke. No one moved.
"Most importantly," he continued, speaking as he might to his closest friends, "it is the work of your years. Your studies, your bruises, your saddle sores, your nights spent doing mathematics, and history, and mapmaking. Your mastery of the arts of war, and of the laws of the realm."
King Jonathan paused for a moment, his eyes exploring their faces. Looking at him, Kel thought grudgingly, All right, he hasn't been fair, and he hasn't made Lord Wyldon treat me like the boys, but he's right about the work. I'll show them-I'll show him, and Lord Wyldon - that I'm as good for that work as anybody else. Like the emperor's Chosen warriors. I'll be an example. They'll be sorry they ever treated me unjustly.
Kel smiled proudly. She had be an example, Gods, she still was an example; she was reluctant to admit it, but the commoners really did see her as the Protector of the Small.
"Each one of you here is a gem, all the more precious because we lost so many. Combined, you are the treasure of the kingdom. Treat yourselves as such. Work hard, study hard, and know your value. Guard your strength, make it grow. Build your stores of learning. Do it not for yourselves or your teachers or your monarchs. Do it for the kingdom. Do it for us all."
It was fitting that Jon was reading this chapter, as when he read his speech, it was as if everyone in the Chamber was present in the mess hall at the time it was read. They were all transported back to the few years after the Immortals War. Everyone was thinking about something they had experienced then; but everyone was united in admiration for their inspirational King who had, for the past 3 decades led their realm.
He looked them over one last time, nodded briskly, then strode out of the hall. He was gone before any of them remembered to bow.
As unhappy as her thoughts had been, Kel still had to remember to take a breath once the king had left the room. His presence was even stronger than the emperor's had been. She could see how people might fight and die for him, and how he could stir such fierce loyalty in calm and levelheaded men like her own father.
Every warrior in the room, every person in fact, could attest to this fact. They had all sworn oaths of fealty: oaths to serve their realm and their King to the death.
It was easy to swear this when your King was such a powerful presence in the realm, such a man to look up to.
Just a look around the room showed her boys who were still caught up and breathless after what he'd said. Even Neal, who seemed so world-weary, looked eager.
When he realized her eyes were on him, he smiled. "Isn't this a great time to be alive?" he asked. "Stormwings and spidrens to fight, beings from legends arrayed at our sides, people in need of protection and us being prepared to do it... Nothing happened in King Roald's time, and everything's happening now.
Now was the Age of Heroes: the years of Thayet the Peerless, the Lioness, the Giant Slayer, the Protector of the Small, the Whisperman… the list went on. These were the heroes of the Human Era.
We'll be sung about, our names will be passed on to our descendants."
Already, songs were being sung about these heroes.
Dom started a humming a fairly recent but well known tune. As soon as Kel heard the first few notes she jammed her elbows into his ribs - she hated hearing that particular song: a ballad about her epic journey into Scanra.
"It's going to take a lot of work, that's for certain," she replied with a shrug.
Neal propped his chin on one hand and gazed at her. "You aren't a bit romantic, are you?" he asked, amused.
Dom had to disagree on that point, but unfortunately had to remain silent.
She sat back and stared at him. She was beginning to think that Neal required a keeper.
Everyone laughed out loud at Neal's hurt face.
He looked at Kel with sad eyes; "Why do you think so little of me, dear Protector," he lamented dramatically.
He seemed to have the craziest ideas. "Romance? Isn't that love-stuff?" she asked finally.
"It's more than just love. It's color, and - and fire. You don't want things magnificent and filled with - with grandeur," he said, trying to make her understand. "You know, drama. Importance. Transcendent passion."
"Wow, Neal, whoever knew you were such a romantic!" laughed Cleon.
Dom had to get a word in: "Are you kidding? You've obviously never heard in horrendous poetry!" Dom then went on to recite "Oh Yamani blossom, how my heart aches at your absence…"
The circle laughed at these classic Neal antics.
"I just want to be a knight," Kel retorted, putting her used tableware on her tray. "Eat your vegetables. They're good for you."
Kel gave Neal a look which clearly reminded him that for the next week as they read these scrolls she would be present to force feed vegetables down his throat.
When she returned to her room, Kel found a small package on her desk. She looked it over. It was wrapped in canvas and addressed to her. The writing was ornate yet readable, like the style that market scribes used. The twine and canvas both were cheap quality, available to anyone with a few coppers to spend.
Kel and Alanna smiled at each other.
She drew her belt-knife to cut the twine, sawing until the cord parted. Kel put the blade down with a sigh. She would have to sharpen it yet again. It got dull very quickly. She hadn't thought to ask her parents for a new one before she left home.
Opening the canvas wrap, she found a plain wooden box inside. Shaking her head - she didn't like mysteries of any kind
Neither did Neal it seemed, who was bouncing in his seat, eager to discover who had sent Kel a gift!
-Kel opened the box. Inside she found a sheathed belt-knife. Like the box, the sheath was plain, made of the same kind of black leather that wrapped the hilt. The blade itself was a very different matter: it was steel as fine as anything that came out of the Yamani Islands, so sharp it would slice a hair.
Ilane and Piers were curious about the gift too. They knew that Kel had received quite a few of such expensive gifts during her time at the Palace, and they had never found out who sent them.
At first, Kel had thought it had been them, but she soon realised that her parents could not afford to gift her such things, what with grandchildren becoming pages, and daughters to present at Court.
Kel knew that because the first thing she did was pluck one from her head and draw it lightly over the edge.
Underneath the knife was a small leather bag with a whetstone. Like the sheath and box, the bag was ordinary. The stone was high-quality goods. It would put on an edge even her old knife would hold.
Inside the bag was a parchment tag. Written on it, in that same common lettering, was "Goddess bless."
Kel had to sit on the bed. Who would send such a fine gift?
This question was being echoed by most in the hall!
Anyone in her family would include a proper note. Neal was friendly, but she couldn't see him spending this kind of money on her. She couldn't see anyone doing it.
"You think so little of yourself, Kel!"
Kel just didn't expect such a gift, before she hardly knew anyone at the Palace.
"But really, it is curious, who gave you these gifts?" voiced Ilane.
Everyone looked around - so it really wasn't her parents? Who had been Kel's mysterious benefactor…
She thought it over until the first after-supper bell rang: she had classwork, and Neal had invited her to study with him. Fretting over the identity of the gift-giver would not be of much use for now. She removed her old knife and clipped the new one to her belt, smoothing it with careful fingers before she gathered her books. The gift had come the first day of real classes, which told her there was one thing she could be sure of: someone wished her well.
Kel smiled. Someone wanted the probationary page to succeed.
Alanna certainly did. Kel had set a perfect precedent to all girls of noble birth to try for their Knighthood. It had been easy to get Timon to arrange for the gifts to be left in Kel's room throughout her time at the Palace.
Kel smiled in remembrance of the gifts which had always perfectly suited her need. Thinking about it, she really should think of some way to pay back Alanna for her generosity.
Jon was glad that Kel had had some support by this mysterious benefactor, and he had an obvious inkling as to who would want the probationary page to succeed, without giving her undue attention.
Jon rolled up the scroll and looked around for a volunteer to read the next chapter.