Chapter 1--Squires and Messages
Sir
Lady Sahdelandria of Teilan, the third Lady Knight, stalked moodily down the
pages’ hall on her way upstairs to the squires. She tried to hide the
displeasure that was plain on her pretty face, regretting yet again her foolish
boast she made almost seven years ago as a fourth-year page.
She, Terand, Trel, Arim, and the others were to be made squires that
night. Full of glee, they laughed and joked all afternoon after the big
examinations, discussing which knights they wanted to be squire to.
Sahdel poked Trel jokingly. “And I suppose you want Sir Kel for a
knight-mistress, huh?”
Trel pretended to blush and ducked his head. “Oh, Sahdel, how’d you
guess? Women who fight turn me on!”
Everyone laughed. Arim posed the question, “What do you lot think
you’ll do as a knight?”
There was silence in the courtyard for several minutes. Sahdel scuffed
her boot against the dirt, peering sidelong at her friends’ faces. All of them
were nearly unreadable, but Sahdel knew that behind each blank countenance was a
grim little thought that had each page considering the dreaded Ordeal of
Knighthood. She shuddered at the thought. She felt gloom descend on the group
and decided to relieve the tenseness. She opened her mouth and –
“When I’m a knight, I’ll have more squires than anyone has ever had
before. I’ll have twenty, maybe more!”
There was some laughter and the pages broke out of their solemn reverie.
Terand grinned, saying, “You’d have to be a century old! And if you
wanted to that anyway, you’ve a record to beat. The Scrolls
of Notable Squires say that Sir Thornhar
of Malorie’s Peak had sixteen squires throughout his life. But don’t worry
about that. We’ll hold you to your word to get at least ten or so!”
Sahdel’s face fell. It had been meant as a joke, and was taken as an
oath.
No Teilan ever backed out of a promise! Sahdel thought fiercely. I’m
not going to be the first. Out loud she said, “Ten’s just fine.”
Sahdel was on the landing. Before her was the door to the squires’
hall. She gritted her teeth. She’d been able to avoid getting a squire for two
years now, because of always being on the road chasing bandits. But there had
been no escape this year. She could find no robberies in Tortall to peruse, or
any small warlords rising. It seemed like the whole kingdom was cooperating in
order that she might get a squire.
Sahdel steeled herself. She could do this. After all, squires were
only squires. Opening the door, she walked through.
She sauntered down the hall. The squires, having turned out at the
bidding of the head servant, Salma, were standing stiffly to attention.
Sahdel’s grey eyes looked each boy over sharply, looking for indifference,
fear, or anger.
Sahdel was good at noticing those things. Her Gift was unusual. Being so
versatile, it could be turned to fighting, healing, or anything, including
reading emotions.
She reached the end of the hall and turned to face the boys. Scowling,
she barked, “At ease! Come here.”
The squires relaxed only slightly, but marched down the hall to Sahdel.
They formed three rows in front of her and saluted. Sahdel saluted back and
tried to lessen her scowl.
Clearing her throat, Sahdel began to speak, “I’m going to guess that
most of you eagerly await a knight-mater to pluck you up and whisk you away to a
dirty, smelly, bloody life on the road.” She paused. Silence. Arching an
eyebrow, she said, “That was intended to be humorous. You have my permission
to laugh.” There were a few weak smiles and a little coughing.
She continued. “Well, that’s actually what my life is like.
And if I take one of you to be my squire, you’d best be up to that kind of
thing. Go to your rooms and think about it. I will perhaps speak with some of
you after the evening meal. Dismissed.”
The whole pack stood there flabbergasted. Sahdel thought, That’ll keep
’em talking for nine days! At last the tallest of the squires snapped to
attention, saying, “Yes sir!” He marched briskly back to his room. The
others slowly followed suit. Sahdel sighed. Was I this annoying as a squire? she
wondered.
Sahdel walked slowly back to her rooms. Locking the door behind her she
sat on her bed, massaging her temples.
There were reasons she didn’t want a squire. One was that she preferred
caring for her equipment herself. Her fellow knights understood that: she had
been very protective of her gear ever since she was a page. But a squire, by
custom, was supposed to clean and ready his knight-master’s (or
knight-mistress’s) weaponry and armor.
Then there was her way of life. She hadn’t been kidding with the
squires: she was hot and sweaty or cold and chapped by turn. Sometimes she
couldn’t bathe for several days. And after a fight, she was bloody, grimy, and
wanted nothing more than a warm meal, a bath, and a real bed. It wouldn’t be
fair to drag a squire off into the wilderness with her. A squire should be
taught to work with others. They should be given practice with the King’s Own,
or one of the Border Patrols. A wanderer was what Sahdel of Teilan was; working
alone much of the time, a rugged traveler.
There was one more thing: she didn’t like the thought of journeying
with a boy. Some of the squires were sixteen to her twenty. She shuddered at the
thought of the rumors that would spin about the Palace for years. “Sir
Sahdelandria has taken a squire and I heard that they…!” She could already
hear them.
Sahdel lay back and closed her eyes. She couldn’t do this. She
wouldn’t take a squire. It was time to explain to one of her old friends that
her boast had truly been only a joke.
She had only an hour before supper. Sahdel stripped and put on fresh
clothes: dark blue breeches with a white shirt and a pale blue tunic. She tugged
on her boots again and tried to tame her hair, quickly giving up. She tied the
brown locks into a horsetail and unlocked the door.
Most of the other knights were returning from the tilting yards or
fencing galleries. Sahdel locked her door and looked around for one from her old
group. She spotted Kayven of Nond and stopped him. He wasn’t one of her very
best friends, but a year-mate, and he was nice enough.
“Hello, Kay.” Sahdel steered him to the side of the hall.
“How’s it going, Sahdel? I didn’t see you in any of the practice
yards.”
“No, I was reviewing the squires.”
“Ah! Thinking of getting yourself a squire, are you?”
“Maybe. Say, do you know if Trel or Imril are here?”
Kay grinned. “You always have that knack for wanting to talk to people
who aren’t here.”
“Oh.” She thought, and then ventured, “Terand?”
Kay’s grin broadened. “Old Rand’s always here! Trains the
Palace Guards now, dontcha know. He rarely goes outside the wall.” He winked.
“Rand is also wooing that young lady from Thistle Glen, Lady Riennah.
Beautiful lass, wish I’d gotten to her first, no offense to your own flawless
features!”
Sahdel laughed. “Naturally!” Slapping his back, she strode off,
calling back, “Thanks, Kay!”
She headed for Terand’s quarters, pausing to straighten her tunic
outside. Then she pounded loudly on the unlocked door. There was a surprised
yelp from within, accompanied by a sickening thud. Sahdel winced and crept into
the room, shutting the door behind her.
Terand of Veldine lay sprawled on the floor. He glared up at Sahdel.
“You can’t ever just knock can you?”
Sahdel helped him to his feet. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t expected to
come upon you whilst you were busy standing tip-toe on a rickety chair! What
were you doing on it? And what is this?”
She snatched up the large sheet of parchment before Terand could grab it
away. Stepping out of his reach, Sahdel looked closely at the picture drawn
there.
It was a pencil portrait of a pretty young woman. Terand was good at
sketching: the woman looked real enough. Underneath the drawing Terand had
written in fancy calligraphy ‘Lady Riennah of Thistle Glen’.
Amused, Sahdel looked at where Terand had been tacking the sheet. She
giggled. “You were going to put it above your bed? So you could gawp at it all
night?”
Terand blushed furiously and yanked his picture away. He stood on the bed
to pin it in place and then looked down his nose at Sahdel, who was doing her
best not to laugh.
At last he saw the funny side of the situation and smiled. He jumped off
the bed and went to sit at his desk. “So, Teilan, what’s on your mind?”
Sahdel got serious. “Terand, do you remember the time when we were
pages, and I said I’d have ten squires?”
Terand screwed up his face in thought. “Um, very vaguely.”
Sahdel continued, “Well, when I said that, it was meant as a joke, not
an oath.”
“So?”
“So I’m not going to take a squire. If you thought I was swearing to
do so, well, I wasn’t.”
“Sahdel, none of us ever thought it was an oath anyway. Is that the
reason you’ve avoided the Palace for two years?”
She nodded sheepishly. “Yes.”
Terand stared at her. “Sahdel you are the only person who would do or
think something like that, I swear. Mithros help you.” He stood and stretched.
“Let’s round up the year-gang and eat. I’m starved!”
He opened the door and indicated that Sahdel should pass through first.
She stepped into the hall and waited for her friend to lock his door. Then they
set off down the hall.
The knights had only gone a short distance when Sahdel heard the patter
of footsteps on the flagstones behind them. She motioned for Terand to halt, and
she turned around.
A messenger raced to her. “Sir Sahdelandria, a message for you from his
Majesty the King.”
Sahdel was mystified. What did King Jonathan want from her? “Go on,
then,” she said.
The boy cleared his throat and began, “To knight Sahdelandria of Teilan,
if she would be so gracious as to attend an audience with his Royal Majesty King
Jonathan III of Conte, in the presence of the mage Master Numair Salmalin and
Wildmage Veralidaine Sarrasri on a secret matter, at the sixth afternoon bell,
please go to the second audience chamber in the North Wing. Sincerely, his most
Gracious Majesty King Jonathan III of Conte.”
The boy gasped for air, having said the whole message in one breath. When
he could breath again he saluted to both knights and raced off.
Terand looked at Sahdel accusingly. “What have you done this time?”
Sahdel was watching the retreating figure of the messenger as she
answered hotly, “I’ve not put a toe out of line since I became a knight!”
She turned to face Terand. “Terand, look – you go onto the evening meal.
It’s almost the sixth afternoon hour now, so I’ve got to go to this
audience. If I’m done in time, I’ll catch you and the rest up, all right?”
Terand patted her back. “Fine. I’ll make your excuses to the others.
I hope to see you later, then.” He walked off with a wave. Sahdel went the
opposite direction, wondering again, What does the king want from me?
