Squire (23 page)

Buri sighed. Hopping down from the fence, she trudged over. “Let me try,” she said. Kel gave her the bow and arrow. Her eyes watered in the cold; she wiped them with icy fingers. If she’d felt like being amused, the sight of Buri, who was not much taller than the bow, would have made Kel smile.

Buri held the arrow to the string properly. When she shot, she hit the center of the target. She unstrung the bow, coiled the string, and fetched the arrows from the target. “I’ve tried it, on progress,” she said as she put away the arrows. “I still prefer my bow. Come on, let’s get something warm to drink.” She led Kel to the Rider mess, sat her at a table, then went to the servers’ window. Kel had never come here; she looked around. Midwinter decorations were everywhere: holly and ivy, candles, branches of pine. Clusters of Riders sat at the other tables. There were only twenty or so, most still half asleep.

Buri returned with a tray. She set it down and poured hot cider into two cups. “To your health. Drink, you look frozen.”

Kel scalded her tongue on the first sip, and blew on the stuff before she took a second. It set a fire warming her belly. She wasn’t sure she deserved warmth.

“Were you not listening when they told you that a noble who kidnapped a maid only owed a fine?” Buri asked, dark eyes sharp on Kel’s face. “The mistress of chambermaids used to call the palace cleaning women ’sluts.’ Thayet made her stop, but it’s coppers to a Midwinter bun that she still does, and that any maid who tells her majesty will lose her place.” Buri put a Midwinter bun in front of Kel and began to eat one herself, piece by piece. “You’re an idealist, Kel. I’ve noticed that about you. See, I try to beat idealism out of Rider trainees. It just ruins their ability to give a fair report. So long as there are nobles and commoners, the wealthy and the poor, those with power will be heard, and those without ignored. That’s the world.”

“I don’t accept that,” Kel said grimly, shredding her bun without eating it.

“I didn’t say you should,” the Buri replied.

Kel looked at her, startled.

“Three nights a week your Lalasa closes her shop early,” Buri told her after a sip from her cup. “She teaches city girls - commoners - holds, blows, and kicks that will help them to escape an attacker. She learned all that somewhere. And it does girls more good than your courting frostbite to shoot a bow you don’t even like. There’s now a demand for arms teachers for young noblewomen. Seven female Riders this year asked me for references to get them such posts. And may I remind you that a particular law is being revised right now because you had the nerve to tell King Jonathan it should be changed?”

“I still should have reported Vinson at the Temple of the Goddess,” Kel said stubbornly.

“Very well, you should have done,” Buri agreed, her face sober. “Next time, you will. And while it won’t heal his victims, here’s something for you to drink besides self-pity. No court in the land could put him through what he did to those girls. The Chamber did. I’ve seen the marks of beatings. The Chamber is making him feel every blow, kick, and punch he doled out. And I bet that will continue for a while.” She sighed and picked up a second bun. “The world is imperfect, Kel. But you do more than your share to set things right. Next time, report it. Even if nothing is done because the one reported is too powerful, a record will be made. When he does it again, the record will show he won’t stop.”

Kel smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to wallow in guilt.”

“You take chivalry too seriously,” Buri informed her. “Just like Raoul. It’s sweet, in an impractical way.”

Kel shook her head. They would have to agree to disagree about that. Still, she felt better now, though she would never, ever forget.

fourteen
FRIENDS

That evening Raoul hosted another gathering in his quarters. Next came the longest night of the year, the night the crown prince kept his vigil. Kel and her friends stayed up late talking, then rose early to go to the chapel. The king and queen were already there, holding hands. When Roald emerged from the Chamber, white and dazed, the packed room echoed with cheers.

Kel returned to her quarters to find Midwinter gifts on her desk, delivered by servants. Most were small, tokens that her friends thought would amuse or please her, like the gifts she had given them. Cleon had given her a griffin brooch. Raoul had given Kel a warhammer, a weapon with a flat head for striking blows on one side, and a curved, spiked head, used to pierce armor and yank it off, on the other. It was a beautiful weapon, well crafted, with a plain wire hilt like those on her sword and dagger. There was nothing from her unknown benefactor. Kel sighed and felt sheepish. “I’m greedy,” she told Jump and the birds as she fed them. “Really, what else could I need? Besides finding out who it was.”

After she tidied her rooms and dressed, she went to the stable with Midwinter treats for Peachblossom and Hoshi. On the gate to Hoshi’s stall was a new saddle and tack that matched the gelding’s. Kel laughed. Her benefactor hadn’t forgotten her after all.

She returned to her quarters after a run with Jump, then settled for a lazy morning. She finished reading a book of battles that Raoul had lent her and returned it to his study. He was there, doing paperwork.

“You’re not supposed to work during holidays,” Kel scolded as she put the book on its shelf.

“I can’t fob it off on Glaisdan because this beslubbering progress doesn’t leave either of us time to do it, so I’m stuck,” he replied. “If you liked that, try Emry of Haryse.” He indicated the book with his quill. “It’s not fair that he could write and general, but what in life is fair?”

Kel grinned. “You’re in a splendid mood,” she remarked. Getting the book, she saw that Raoul’s second-best tunic, wine-colored velvet with gold borders, was laid out. “Is there a party tonight?” she asked, puzzled. She’d received no instructions to report for service.

“I wish,” he replied gloomily. “I’ve received an imperial command.” He lifted a sheet of parchment. “My great-aunt Sebila of Disart, my sire’s aunt, matriarch of our clan, orders me to present myself at her house tonight. She and the other local relatives will be there to greet me.”

Kel didn’t understand. “But, sir - Midwinter, and… family. They go together.”

“Which is why I dare not refuse, or I’ll hear from my father as quickly as letters can travel. Have you any female dragons in your family?”

Put that way, Kel saw his point. Her grandmother on her mother’s side ruled her clan with an iron fist.

“They’ll want to know why I’m not married,” Raoul said, long-faced. “They’ll have lists of eligible women - not the best of the crop, of course, because I’ve let things go much too long and will have to be happy with those no one else wanted. And Great-aunt Sebila will explain all this at full bellow, with the women present, because her hearing is not what it was. Gods help you if you suggest she talk to a healer about it. Nothing wrong with her ears - we young people never learned to listen, that’s our problem.”

“Why not bring someone?” asked Kel sensibly. “They can’t try to match you up if you bring an eligible female. Not me, though. Not even for you, sir, would I face at your great-aunt’s what I get at Grandmama’s.”

That startled a bark of laughter out of him. Then his face turned gloomy again. “If I bring a lady of our rank, Kel, she might think I mean something by it. I don’t want to hurt someone that way. I may be a feckless gawp of an overage boy. Aunt told me once, but I don’t play fast and loose with people.”

Kel leafed through her book without seeing it. “Why not Buri?” she suggested at last. “She won’t get any romantic notions, you’ll have someone to talk to, and maybe your relatives will leave you alone, at least about marriage.”

Raoul thought about this, rubbing his chin. “Why would she put herself through something like that if she didn’t have to?”

“Aren’t you friends?” Kel wanted to know. “I’d help my friends in a situation like that.”

“She’ll never agree,” Raoul said, one hand inching toward a sheet of parchment.

Kel smiled and put the book down. “Not if you don’t ask her. I’ll take the message.”

Reading his note, Buri grinned. “Poor lad! A big man-creature like him, needing protection! Oh, I can’t turn my back on him. Tell him I’ll do it. A sacrifice for friendship - what’s more appropriate at Midwinter?”

Kel returned late after an evening spent with the Yamanis. There were no candles burning in Raoul’s quarters: was he still at his great-aunt’s? Yawning, she lit a candle in his study so he would have it to see by, then entered her rooms and lit a branch of candles for herself. She would read until he came in. She wanted to hear how the evening had gone.

With the best intentions she nodded off over her book. The sound of her front door smashing open woke her.

“Bitch!” a man screamed. Jump attacked the intruder. Sparrows followed like feathered brown darts, gouging the newcomer’s face. Kel threw herself out of bed to yank her glaive from the wall.

“Trollop, you killed my boy!” shouted the man who fought Jump and the birds. Kel pulled a shutter open, admitting cold air and early morning light - it was shortly after dawn. Jump gripped one of the man’s wrists in his jaws, drawing blood. The birds continued to strike his face and eyes as he flailed at them with his free hand.

Kel didn’t know this well-dressed, white-haired stranger. Neither did she know the woman and man who ran in to grab him, the woman clinging to his waist, the man with one hand on the stranger’s tunic as he tried to knock Jump away.

The door to Raoul’s chambers sprang open. Raoul was in his loincloth, holding his unsheathed sword. Buri, clad only in a blanket, stood at his elbow, a dagger in her free hand. “Birds, move,” ordered Raoul. The sparrows darted off. Raoul grabbed the snarling man one-handed and smashed him against the wall, shaking off his human companions. “Jump, let go,” ordered Raoul. Jump obeyed.

The woman, her face red and tearstained, wrung her hands as she and the other man babbled to Raoul. Kel tried to hear what they said, without success. Raoul’s captive continued to swear at her. He craned around Raoul to stare at Kel with blue eyes that bulged in their sockets.

Kel came forward, glaive ready in case the other two attacked her. When the captive shut up long enough to breathe, she said quietly, “I don’t even know you.”

He answered with curses. Raoul changed his grip to press a broad forearm across the mans throat, cutting off air and voice. “My lord of Stone Mountain, you forget yourself,” he said icily. His captive wheezed. “If you try to carry out your threats, I will break your jaw.”

“He is distraught,” the woman said, her voice breaking. “My lord, please, Burchard is out of his mind with grief.”

“My nephew is dead,” the other stranger cried. “The Chamber of the Ordeal opened on his corpse.”

“Joren? Dead?” whispered Kel, horrified.

Joren’s uncle and mother glanced at her and away, as if they could not bear to see her. “It is the shock,” Joren’s mother whispered, fresh tears on her face. “Don’t hold my husband responsible.”

Raoul eased the pressure on Burchard of Stone Mountain’s throat. The man was not white haired but pale blond, as Joren was. “He was to be the greatest of us,” Burchard whispered. “Mylord Wyldon said, after that first year, he was the most promising lad he’d seen.” His eyes were adder-poisonous as he looked at Kel. “Jumped-up merchant slut,” he whispered. “He was never the same after you arrived. Never. You witched him, cursed him - ” His voice was cut off as Raoul reapplied pressure.

“I am tired of you,” Raoul said, his voice deadly soft. “Nothing affects the Chamber of the Ordeal, you stupid bigot. Ask Numair Salmalin - “

“A progressive!” snapped Joren’s uncle.

“Ask him under oath, then,” rapped out Buri, hoisting her blanket around her shoulders. “Numair is the most powerful mage in the realm, politics or none. He knows what everyone knows - no one has ever been able to affect the Chamber.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Raoul told Joren’s mother, “but Kel didn’t kill your son. I won’t ask to settle this insult to my squire’s honor, and thus to mine, by combat. In that I respect your grief.” He released Burchard.

The man fell to the floor. “Two lives destroyed in that Chamber this year,” he whispered, staring at Kel through a sparrow-made mask of blood. “How did you do it?”

“I didn’t!” Kel protested, shocked.

“Hush, Kel,” Raoul ordered. To Burchard he said, “One more chunk of spew and you answer me by the sword, understand?”

Burchard said nothing, only rubbed his throat. Raoul looked at Joren’s mother and uncle.

“We understand,” Joren’s mother told Raoul. She tried to pull her husband to his feet.

“We understand our realm has strayed so far from tradition that the gods’ gifts fail,” Joren’s uncle snapped. “The Chamber is breaking down. What more proof do we need that we have lost divine favor? What have you people left untouched? You school the whelps of farmers, let women make war, intermarry with foreigners - “

“I make allowance for your grief.” Kel had never heard that tone in Raoul’s voice. White-hot rage seem to smoke off his skin. “Go. Bury your boy.” Raoul hauled the lord of Stone Mountain up one-handed and thrust him at his wife and brother. “While you do, ask yourselves where he learned to be so rigid that he shattered under the Ordeal. Get out.”

They left. Kel shut the door, trembling.

Raoul rubbed his face with both hands. “Gods,” he whispered, “I need a drink.”

“Shall I get you one?” Kel asked, unsure.

“Not the kind I meant, if you don’t mind,” he replied. “Juice, water - no liquor.” He smiled crookedly. “It turns me into someone I don’t like.”

“I’ll find something,” Kel promised, looking for her clothes.

“Kel.” Raoul grasped her shoulder. “That was bile, pure and simple. You had nothing to do with Joren’s fate - you do understand that?”

Kel thought about it. “Yes, sir,” she said at last.

“Raoul, maybe you’re not entirely right,” said Buri, leaning on the door to his rooms. “You heard Lord Fart-face. Joren was a golden boy before our Kel arrived. Maybe the Chamber just found the selves that Vinson and Joren revealed around Kel.”