Part 19 (1/2)
Raoul wiped lather away from his ear. ”His majesty tells me I have no excuses. He believes I took advantage of our efforts in Bay Cove to stay away. He won't admit I'm right and all this mummery is not the best use of Third Company. Instead he's decided that, like a dog, I have to be retrained to remember who is king and who is not.”
”He wouldn't take the Own away, would he?” Kel asked, horrified. The king could be unfair, but surely not that unfair.
”Worse.” Raoul patted his face with a cloth. ”He said if I take more time away from his bootheels for my own pleasure, he'll seat me with the greediest matchmaking mother in each district.”
Kel winced. Surely there ought to be laws against that kind of punishment. She had to compliment the king on underhandedness, though. He'd picked the penalty Raoul dreaded more than fines or the loss of n.o.ble privileges.
”That night after supper, Kel took a long walk with Cleon, Neal, and Esmond of Nicoline. Owen joined them: he had arrived with Lord Wyldon the day before, stopping for a few days before they headed to Northwatch Fortress and the Scanran border. The squires wandered in the city, then headed back to camp. On the way Kel asked to stop at the challenge boards. She wanted to see who she would face the next day.
Neal, Esmond, and Owen left them at the tournament grounds. Neal had to pack, he said. Esmond had a letter to write. Owen, after his arms were tugged by the other two, decided he had stockings to mend. Cleon smiled at Kel as their friends left, trailing weak excuses.
”Apart from Raoul and Buri, we must be the worst-kept secret in this traveling gossip show,” he remarked as they read the lists of matches. ”Have you - Mithros, guide us. We're back to this. Do you really want to die a virgin? I keep telling you, we can fix that.”
Kel looked at Lord Wyldon's name and shook her head. Then she rounded on Cleon. Stabbing him in the chest with a forefinger, she demanded, ”What if I took you up on it? What if I said, All right, I don't want to die a virgin?” She mock-glared up into his eyes, noting with glee that he looked panicked. ”You are just trifling with my maiden's heart. I've heard about fellows like you, who talk so beautifully and run when they might have to keep their promises!” She turned and folded her arms over her chest. Charm or no, accusations or not, she was as timid as he, but she needed to know, did he want her? When he kissed her or looked at her with liking and pride, she went all warm inside. Did he feel the same?
After a moment he muttered, ”I - I need to talk Mother around.”
Her blood went cold. She was justly punished for teasing him. There was only one reason he would feel he couldn't bed her until he talked his mother around. That scared her far more than s.e.x.
He'd told her about his mother, his father's early death, the lack of money to do much-needed work at Kennan. ”Your marriage is arranged,” Kel reminded him softly. ”With an heiress.” The girl's mother was his mother's friend. Everyone in their district expected the wedding eventually.
Neither Kel nor Cleon had uttered two words for fear of disaster: ”love” and ”marriage.” If he wanted to talk his mother around, he was talking marriage. ”I'll work it out, somehow,” he said, his voice shaky. ”We'll just have to be really heroic and bring in plenty of Crown purses.”
”I'm not ready,” she whispered. ”I have no dowry, I want my s.h.i.+eld - ”
Cleon turned her into his arms and kissed her long and sweetly, not caring who saw them. At last they broke apart, panting a little. ”Rest, love,” he murmured, cupping her cheek in one hand. ”You court death by flying tomorrow.”
The next day Kel and Peachblossom waited for the match before theirs to end. Kel winced as two fourth-year squires came together in a crash of splintering lances and retired for their final run. They would be black and blue all over in the morning.
She was sweating before she even put on her helm. Wyldon was there, on the sidelines at the far end of the field. She'd seen Owen too, in the stands. It seemed Kel's former training master really did like to wait in quiet, alone, before his matches began. Most knights wanted their squires nearby when they jousted.
The two contestants knocked one another from the saddle in their third run and were carried off the field. Monitors cleared away their debris as Kel mounted Peachblossom.
The herald beckoned to Kel and Wyldon, who took their places. Conversation in the stands ended. The only sounds were the flap of pennants and Peachblossom's snort. The trumpet blew; Peachblossom took off. As she rose in the saddle and set the position of her lance, Kel realized something funny: I've actually missed this.
There was no time to think anything else. On came Wyldon, riding a large gray warhorse. Kel aimed her lance straight and true. The big hammer of Wyldon's impact struck her s.h.i.+eld and s.h.i.+eld arm; the little one of her own strike slammed her lance hand. Her lance splintered, pieces falling. Kel and Wyldon turned their horses and trotted back to the start points. Kel shook out both arms, then her head and neck for good measure, and accepted her second lance.
The trumpet called. On came Wyldon again, faceless in his helmet, lance steady in his grip. Kel s.h.i.+fted her position. They came together hard: this time it was Wyldon's lance that broke.
Third time lucky? Kel wondered giddily as she worked first one arm, then the other. The field monitor insisted on giving her a fresh lance.
Kel didn't pray to the G.o.ds for victory in the lists. It was never good to bother them, particularly over something that was a very rough variation of a game. Today, though, she wished she had the nerve to do it as she settled herself on Peachblossom's back.
Once more, and then I can lie down, she told herself grimly, turning to face Lord Wyldon.
The trumpet called. Peachblossom hurtled down the lane. Kel s.h.i.+fted, then sank a little, looking for the best way to hit that oncoming s.h.i.+eld. She leaned in and braced herself for the impact.
When it came, it slammed so hard Kel's vision went gray. Peachblossom danced to keep her in the saddle until she could settle back. Her ears roared; her vision slowly cleared. She nearly dropped her lance, but clung to it grimly as Peachblossom carried her back to her side of the field.
When the monitor tugged the lance, Kel needed a moment to see that he wanted to take it. ”Judges gave the victory to my lord Wyldon,” he told her.
”Oh, good,” Kel said weakly, body pounding, muscle and bone telling her in no uncertain terms how they felt about this treatment. She didn't see the monitor flag another man to help him get her s.h.i.+eld off, or she might have scolded when Peachblossom 'tried to bite him. Instead she swayed in the saddle, grateful it was there, knowing she really ought to dismount. It seemed like such an effort.
”Mindelan.” Once that voice had driven through solid terror to make her pay heed. She turned toward it now, and saw a broad hand held out to her. She took it. ”Very well done. Very well indeed. You listened to my advice about your s.h.i.+eld - but then, I expected no less. I only wish - ”
Kel grinned foolishly, her ears still ringing. They made a nice counterpoint to Lord Wyldon's voice, she thought. ”I know, my lord,” she managed to say. ”You wish I were a boy. But being a girl is more fun. More fun - er? Is that right?”
”Go lie down, Mindelan,” Wyldon advised.
”You're tilt-silly.”
”Yessir,” she said, automatically obeying the command. Somehow she climbed out of the tilting saddle and slithered to the ground. The two monitors caught her.
”Mithros watch over you, Keladry,” Wyldon said. Kel waved her thanks. To Peachblossom Kel's training master said, ”Let the monitors unsaddle you and groom you. None of this temperamental nonsense.”
Peachblossom regarded him for a moment, then snorted. Flicking his tail, he followed Kel and her escort, with Jump bringing up the rear.
Voices woke her. ”Is she going to sleep forever?”
”I can't believe she stayed in the saddle. Papa says Lord Wyldon unseats everybody.”
”When he hit her that third time? I thought his lance would go straight through her. But he didn't unseat her. He shook her hand!”
”We should go, if she's asleep. It's just, we won't know anything, if we don't ask.”
Girls. There were three girls near her, talking in hushed voices. Girls, and they wanted to talk to her. She was hungry enough to eat a cow, horns and all, but duty came first.
Kel opened her eyes. The three curious faces that filled her vision jerked back.
”It's... all right,” Kel mumbled. ”I was waking up.” She licked her lips - she was stone dry. Looking around, she saw she was in her own tent. Jump rose on his hind legs, planted his forepaws on the side of her cot, and dropped an apple onto the sheet that covered her. Four sparrows landed beside his offering, each with a grape in its claws.
”Is there water about, and a cup?” inquired the oldest of the three girls. Jump towed her to the small table where the water pitcher sat. The girl filled the cup and brought it to Kel. The water was warm, but it cleaned the stickiness from Kel's tongue. She started to eat the apple, while the sparrows continued to ferry single grapes to her from a bowl next to the pitcher.
”My thanks,” Kel said to the girl and to her animals. It was nearly sunset, judging by the light that flowed through the open tent flap. It was enough that Kel could see her guests were very well dressed. They watched her with eyes as bright as stars, lighting three very different faces. The oldest looked to be about twelve, the other two ten or so.
”You broke his lance!” The most energetic of the three was blond; she beamed at Kel. ”It was beautiful!”
”Beautiful is Yvenne's word for the week,” the oldest girl told Kel.
”Mama says, if me and Fianola still really want to, in a year, she'll let us try.” The speaker, the other youngster, looked to be a sister to the oldest. Both had similar brown eyes, olive skin, and brown hair so curly it fought the pins that confined it.
”Fianola will do it even though she's too old.”
The oldest girl looked down, as if two extra years were something shameful. ”Fianola and I”, she corrected her younger sibling.
Here was something Kel could fix. ”My best friend, Nealan of Queenscove, was fifteen when he started,” she said gravely. ”He's squire to Alanna the Lioness now.”