Squire (2 page)

With a hard flick - the movement took strength, and she had practiced until she’d gotten it perfect - Kel sent the ring flying off her lance. Jump watched it, his powerful legs tense. He sprang, catching the ring in his jaws.

A big man who leaned on the fence applauded. The sun was in Kel’s eyes: she shaded them to see who it was, and smiled. Her audience was Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie’s Peak, knight and Knight Commander of the King’s Own guard. She liked him: for one thing, he treated her just as he did boy pages. It was nice that he’d witnessed one of her successes. The first time she’d seen him, she had been about to fall off a rearing Peachblossom. That her mount was out of control was bad; to have it witnessed by a hero like Lord Raoul, and ten more of the King’s Own, was far worse.

“I’d heard how well you two work together,” Lord Raoul said as Kel and Peachblossom approached. He was a head taller than Kel, with curly black hair cropped short, black eyes, and a broad, ruddy face. “I’m not sure I could have nailed that target.” Jump trotted over to offer the ring to the big knight. Raoul took it, tested its weight, and whistled. “Willow? I don’t think I could nail it - the ring I use is oak.”

Kel ducked her head. “We practice a great deal, that’s all, my lord. Jump wants you to throw it for him.”

With a flick of the wrist the knight tossed the ring, letting it sail down the road. Jump raced under it until he could leap and catch the prize. Holding his tail and single ear proudly erect, he ran back to Raoul and Kel.

“Practice is the difference between winning and being worm food,” Raoul told Kel. “Do you have a moment? I need to discuss something with you.”

“I’m at my lord’s service.” Kel stood at ease, Peachblossom’s reins in her hand.

“I owe you an apology,” the knight confessed. “I’d meant to see you right after the big exams, but we were called east - ogres sneaked over the border from Tusaine. We just got back. If you haven’t accepted an offer from some other knight, would you like to be my squire?”

Kel blinked at him, unable to believe her ears. Over the last four years, when she hadn’t dreamed of serving Lady Alanna, she had slipped in a daydream or two of being Lord Raoul’s squire. It wasn’t that far-fetched - the man had shown he had a kindness for her in the past - but when he didn’t visit after the big examinations, her daydreams had turned to dust. It had never occurred to her that he might have been called away. Palace gossip, usually accurate about who was in residence and who was not, had crumpled under the flood of guests for the congress.

Finally she blurted out, “But you never take a squire!”

Jump barked: Lord Raoul still held the willow ring. He flipped it into the air, straight up. Jump gave him a look, as if to say, Very funny, and waited until the ring was six feet from the ground before he leaped to catch it.

“Oh, all right.” Raoul sent the circle skimming across the training yard. Jump raced after it gleefully. To Kel Raoul said, “I had a squire once, about twenty years ago. Why don’t we sit” - he pointed to a nearby bench - “and I’ll explain.”

Kel followed him over and sat when he did. He took the ring from a victorious Jump and sent it flying again.

“See, I haven’t needed a squire since I joined the King’s Own.” The big man leaned back, stretching brawny legs out in front of him. He was dressed not in a courtier’s shirt, tunic, hose, and soft leather shoes, but in a country noble’s brown jerkin and breeches, a crimson shirt, and calf-high riding boots. He shifted so he could watch Kel’s face as they talked. “We have servants with the Own, and a standard-bearer, so my having a squire wasn’t an issue. But you know the Yamani princess and her ladies arrive next year.”

Kel nodded. She felt very odd, as if she occupied another girl’s body. Was he asking her out of pity? That would be almost as bad as service to a desk knight - though she’d still take the offer.

“Once they get here, Chaos will swallow us” the man went on. “Their majesties plan to take the court on a Grand Progress - do you know what that is?”

“Yes, sir,” Kel replied. “Master Oakbridge, our etiquette teacher, talked about it all last year. It’s to show Princess Shinkokami to the realm, so people can see the heir’s future wife.”

Raoul nodded. “Which means a grand parade throughout the realm. Two mortal years of balls, tournaments, banquets, and other nonsense. Oh, some useful things will get done - they mean to survey the roads and hold a census, paper-shuffling, mostly. I have no problem with that, since I don’t have to do it. But fuss and feathers make my blood run cold.”

Kel’s lips quivered in the tiniest of smiles. The Knight Commander was infamous for dodging as many ceremonies as he could.

“Servants and our standard-bearer won’t be enough when I have to deal with every jumped-up, self-important toady in the country.” He thumped his knee with a fist the size of a small ham. “And I know nothing about the Yamanis. You lived six years at their court and speak the language.”

Enlightenment struck Kel like fireworks. He wasn’t taking her as a favor, or because he liked her, though that was nice. She would be useful to him as no one else could!

“I liked how you handled yourself when we hunted those spidrens, four years ago,” Lord Raoul explained. “You knew when to speak up and when to be quiet. Wyldon and Myles of Olau say you don’t lose your temper. After your fight with bandits three years ago, I know you can keep your head in a fix. You’ll see plenty of combat with us. I’ll warn you, it’s more work than most squires get. Plenty of knights come here for the winter months, but the King’s Own goes where it’s needed, whatever the season. And we’ll be in the thick of all the progress antics. If you want out - if someone else you’d prefer has asked…”

Kel smiled at him. “I’m not afraid of work, my lord,” she replied. “I would be honored to be your squire.”

“Good!” he said, grabbing her hand and giving it two firm shakes, beaming at her. “Come down to our stables. You can bring the charmer.” He nodded at Peachblossom. “He’s going to move there anyway, and I’d like you to have a look at a mare I think would suit you.”

As Kel scrambled to her feet, Raoul slung an arm around her shoulders and led her out of the yard. Kel made sure to hold out the hand that held Peachblossom’s rein, keeping the gelding on her far side, well out of reach of her new knight-master.

“See, with the Own, everyone has at least one spare horse,” Raoul said. They walked down one of the roads that crisscrossed the acres behind the palace. They were in an area of stables: those for couriers, heralds, and officers in the army, those for visitors, and those that served the King’s Own. “We live in the saddle. One horse isn’t up to all that. Your Peachblossom is heavy - you’ll need a horse with good wind and endurance to ride. You can keep Peachblossom for combat.” He looked across Kel at the big gelding. “I asked Onua - horsemistress to the Queen’s Riders - to help me find a mount who could get on with your charming horsie.”

The “charming horsie” snorted, as if he understood. Kel gave his reins a tug, a silent order to behave.

“Here we are,” Raoul said, taking his arm from Kel’s shoulders. The insignia over the door on this stable was familiar: a silver blade and crown on a blue field, the emblem of the King’s Own. Kel, Peachblossom, and Jump followed Raoul inside. The stable was big. There were three hundred men in the King’s Own: younger sons of nobles, wealthy merchants’ sons, and Bazhir from the Southern Desert. Each was required to supply two horses when he joined, though the company replaced those killed on duty. Kel eyed the ones in the stalls as she walked past. These were some of the kingdom’s finest mounts.

Once the Own had been a cozy assignment for wealthy young men who liked to look good and meet ladies with dowries. Under Lord Raoul it became the Crown’s weapon, enforcing the law and helping local nobles deal with problems too large to handle alone. Since the arrival of the strange creatures called immortals seven years before, enforcing the law and handling problems required every warrior the Throne could supply. Not all giants, ogres, centaurs, winged horses, and unicorns were peaceful; other, stranger creatures saw humans only as meals. Even those who did coexist with humans had to find homes, make treaties, and swear to obey the realm’s laws.

“Here we go,” Raoul said, halting. The glossy brown mare in front of them was a solid animal, smaller than Peachblossom. She had broad shoulders and deep hindquarters, feathery white socks, and a white star on her forehead. Kel hitched Peachblossom out of harm’s way, then approached the mare and offered a hand. The mare lowered her nose and blew softly on Kel’s palm.

“Take a look at her,” Raoul said. “Tell me what you think.”

Kel stepped into the stall to inspect the mare thoroughly, feeling as if this were a test, at least of her knowledge of horses. That made sense, if she was to spend time with some of the realm’s finest horsemen.

The mare’s eyes were clear, her teeth sound. She seemed affectionate, butting Kel in fun. Someone had groomed her; there were no burs or tangles in her black mane and tail, and her white socks were clean.

“She’s beautiful,” Kel said finally. “Looks like she’ll go forever. Not up to your weight, my lord.” She smiled at the six-foot-four-inch Knight Commander, who grinned. “But she and I should do well.”

Jump crawled under the gate. He sniffed the mare’s hooves, as if conducting his own inspection. The horse turned her head, keeping the dog under observation, but she seemed to have no objection.

“Very good,” Raoul said. “As your knight-master, I give her to you, as is my obligation. What will you name her?”

Kel smiled at the mare, who lipped her new rider’s arm. “I’d like to call her Hoshi,” she replied. “It’s Yamani for ’star.’” She touched the white star between the mare’s eyes.

“Hoshi it is. Now, why don’t you settle Peachblossom there,” Raoul nodded to the empty stall beside Hoshi’s, “while we discuss other details?”

Kel led Peachblossom into his new stall and unsaddled him. More than anything she wanted to run back to the iron door of the Chamber of the Ordeal and snap her fingers at it. You see, she wanted to tell it, not a desk knight after all!

Neal was out when Kel returned. She stood before his closed door, disappointed. None of her other friends among the first-year squires - Seaver, Esmond, and Merric - were in their rooms either. Her news must wait: she had to pack. Unlike her friends, she would not be returning to the squires’ wing most winters. She was to live in rooms adjoining the Knight Commander’s, in a palace wing closest to the barracks that housed the King’s Own.

She was explaining things to the sparrows who had adopted her when Jump and the birds raced for the open door. Neal walked in. He was dead white; his green eyes blazed.

“Neal, what’s wrong?” Kel asked.

He actually wrung his hands. “Sit down,” he told Kel. “Please.”

Kel sat.

He paced for a moment. Jump looked at him .and snorted; the sparrows found positions on Kel and the furniture to watch. Crown, the female who led the flock, lit on Neal’s shoulder. She rode there for a moment, then peeped loudly, as if telling him to speak.

Neal faced Kel. “This wasn’t my idea,” he said. “Remember that knight I was to see today?” Kel nodded. “Well, the knight wants to take me,” Neal continued, “and Father and the king say I should do it. They said that you are getting a very good offer, too. I want you to know I argued. I said it should be you. They say that’s a bad idea. That people might question if you were really good.”

Kel stared at her friend. What was wrong with him?

Neal took a deep breath. “Lady Alanna has asked me to be her squire. She’s a healer, Kel. That’s why Father wants me with her. Maybe that’s even why the king stuck in his oar. You know I wish I’d had more training. Lady Alanna says she’ll teach me. But I swear by Mithros I had no idea she was going to ask.”

Kel nodded dumbly. After all her hopes Lady Alanna had taken a squire, though she had done without for her entire career. The problem was, that squire was not Kel. It was Kel’s best friend.

“Kel, please…” Neal began. Then he looked around. “You’re packing. You’re - why are you packing? You’re not leaving?”

The worry in his face made her heart ache. Yes, he had the place she wanted, beside the realm’s most legendary knight, but this was Neal. They had fought bullies, monstrous spidrens, and hill bandits. They had studied together and joked on their gloomiest days. He’d shown her the palace ropes; she knew about his unrequited passions for unattainable ladies. The only secret between them was Kel’s crush on him.

I can’t turn on him, she thought. I can’t not be his friend, even if I can’t be his love. “Lord Raoul asked me to be his squire.”

Neal collapsed into a chair. “Raoul? I’ll be switched,” he said, awed. “Lady Alanna told me you were looked after, but this? Gods all bless. Goldenlake the Giant Killer.” He whistled. “This is very good. I love it. Not even the conservatives will question your right to a shield if he’s your master. He may be a progressive, but he’s still the most respected knight in Tortall. Even the ones who claim you’re magicked to succeed will have to shut up.”

“What do you mean?” Kel demanded. Sometimes Neal took forever to get to the point; sometimes, even when he got to it, the thing didn’t feel like a point at all. This was starting to feel like one of those times.

“You’ll be in public view most of the time,” Neal explained. “Not everyone you meet will be your friend, so they won’t be for you, and some will have enough Gift of their own to tell if magic’s being worked on you. No one will be able to claim you did anything but what was under everybody’s nose after four years in the King’s Own.”

“If I cared for their opinion, I’d be relieved,” Kel informed her friend. “So you think this is good.”

He nodded vigorously. “I’m envious,” he admitted. “Lord Raoul’s got to be the most easygoing man alive. My new knight-mistress is famed for wielding sharp edges - sword, knife, and tongue.”

Kel scratched her ear. She hadn’t considered the Lioness’s temper, though the realm’s sole female knight was infamous for it. “You’ll just have to get on with her,” she said. She knew her words were silly as they left her mouth. Neal couldn’t just get on with anyone. He could no more resist poking at other people’s conceits or ideas than he could resist breathing.