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“Keladry, you have a visitor,” Ilane stepped out of the front sitting room as Kel entered the castle.
Kel blinked. “Shall I go clean up?” She asked, looking down at her clothes, torn and muddy after her little adventure by the river.
“Don’t bother, I’m not worth cleaning up for,” a voice called from the sitting room.
Kel sighed, wondering what this could possibly be about. Had one of the boys’ parents come to complain about her? Fixing her Yamani mask firmly in place, she stepped into the sitting room, where her father and a woman she had never seen before were sitting. Ilane slipped into the room after her daughter.
The woman sitting there looked to be a bit younger than Kel’s mother. She wore a brown uniform with a crimson and bronze insignia that Kel recognized as the Queen’s Riders, and her badge bore a pattern of gold and crimson rings that Kel guessed meant she was in some sort of command, though Kel didn’t know what rank.
Kel bowed politely, in the Eastern fashion, to their guest.
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” she said. “How may we serve you?”
“Not to worry, Keladry,” the stranger said. “You look like whatever kept you was quite the experience.”
Kel glanced at her father, who seemed very at ease, and relaxed somewhat.
“There was a spidren,” she explained. “And I’m sorry, what should I call you?”
“Oh,” the woman looked abashed. “I’m terribly sorry. You may call me Buri. I don’t care much for titles in the day to day, but it is relevant to what I’m here to speak to you about. You might also know me as Buriram Tourakom, or you may not, but I’m the Commander of the Queen’s Riders.”
Kel’s eyes went wide.
“What can I do for you, Commander?” Kel asked.
Buri wrinkled her nose. “You can call me Buri, for starters,” she said wryly. “But I’m here because I happen to know that you received a deal of sorts, and I’d like to offer you some additional context for it.”
“I see,” Kel said, supposing the deal in question was the probation notice.
“You want to take advantage of the law allowing girls to be pages,” Buri said, and Kel nodded. “Only, they’ve suddenly put a stipulation on it that you’ll have to go through a probationary period first, after which Cavall can send you home.” Kel nodded again, warily. “Cavall’s a stiff old stump,” Buri said flatly. “He might treat you fairly, but the fact that he’s already insisted on this probation tells me he probably won’t. I wouldn’t get my hopes up for getting more than one year of training as a page, if I were you.”
Kel nodded. “I understand,” she said. “But it’ll still be one more year of training than I have right now.”
Buri’s eyes gleamed. “Just so,” she said. “And I daresay it will serve you well if you wanted to pursue a warrior’s path outside of knighthood.”
“With the Riders?” Kel asked.
Buri grinned. “That is why I’m here.”
Kel nodded. That made sense, though it did seem early for them to be recruiting her, especially as untested (by Tortallan eyes) as she was. “If things don’t work out for knighthood, I had planned to enlist with the Riders,” Kel admitted. “It’s the meantime that I’ll have to figure out, since you start enrollment at fifteen.”
“Yes,” Buri said. “Riders do need to be at least fifteen to enlist, and there’s nothing I can do about that. There are, however, associates of the Riders that are not enlisted, and have no age restrictions so long as the person’s able to do the work.”
Kel stared at her, interested. She had never considered that there might be an earlier way to work with the Riders.
“I could offer you a standard-bearer position,” Buri said. “It’s a lower position and wage than someone of your station would typically be accustomed to, but it’d mean you’d have the chance at some real field work and get to know many of the groups. You’d join in many of our regular trainings as well. We wouldn’t be able to train you up to speed from scratch, I’m afraid, but we could close the gap, if there is one, from your probationary year training easily enough, assuming you do well. There are people besides the training master involved in teaching the pages, and I trust a good few of those to assess you fairly. They won’t be able to overrule Cavall, like as not, but if they say you’re up to snuff, that’ll be good enough for me.”
Kel looked over at her parents, who were both watching her, but she thought they looked pleased, though with their Yamani masks in place it was hard to tell. She turned back to Buri. “I’ll certainly think about it,” she said. “It sounds like a very good opportunity, but I think I will have to see how the page training goes before I make a decision.”
“Of course,” Buri said. “And I wouldn’t dream of tearing you away from the knighthood path, if it does work out for you -- and I sincerely hope it does. But, one of the things we do in the Riders is assume that things likely won’t work out, and plan accordingly, so know that this is a door that is open to you, if and when you should decide you want it.”
“I thank you,” Kel said, offering her a bow. “I did not know such an option might be available, and as much as I hope to pass my probationary year, it is a comfort to know that there will still be opportunities if I do not.”
“I thank you for hearing me out, and considering an old woman’s schemes,” Buri said, her eyes twinkling. She rose and bowed to both Kel and her parents before leaving the study.
“Well,” Ilane said, when Buri had gone. “That seemed like a very generous offer.”
Kel nodded thoughtfully. “I still want to be a knight, Mama,” she said. “I want to make them let me stay. But it’s good to know I won’t have to wait until I’m fifteen, if they decide to not be fair after all.”
“It certainly is,” Ilane agreed. “Well, it sounds like you have a letter to write, and things to pack.”
***
Kel was elated as she walked back to the pages’ wing from Wyldon’s office. She could stay! She had done it. Not even Lord Wyldon had been able to dispute that she was as good as any of the boys, and not even Joren’s dirtiest tricks had been able to drive her away. She slowed, though, as she reached the pages’ wing. Did she actually still want this? She wanted to serve the realm still, to be someone who fought for justice and for what was right, no matter what it took. She could endure another three years of unfair treatment, of Lord Wyldon’s double standards, of her teachers’ increased scrutiny, of Joren and his cronies’ bullying, if that was what it took to serve the realm. She knew that she could do it. But knighthood wasn’t the only way she could serve. Knights fought for justice, sure, but in many respects they were nobles first, with all of the ceremony and trappings of the station that their titles demanded. The spidren hunt with the Own had been eye-opening, had been the part of being a knight that Kel longed for -- helping commoners in need, fighting to keep them safe -- and work with the Riders would be similar -- more real work, less ceremony. And, if Buri’s demeanor had been any indication, they would not grudgingly tolerate her as Lord Wyldon and many of her peers did, but actively accept her. They would help her to succeed instead of sabotaging her. Did she really want to be part of a system that perpetuated hazing, that was torn between noble pride and meaningful work, that had told her again and again that she had no place in it? Or did she want to be part of a system that was different, that was dedicated to offering everyone -- men, women, nobles, commoners -- a fair chance, and training them up to focus on their kingdom’s most relevant problems? She’d worked so hard for the chance to stay, and she was reluctant to give it up. But her resolve was also growing, the more she considered the choice.
She reached her room to find Neal seated outside it, looking grim. He offered her a half-hearted smile as she approached, searching her face.
“Well?” Neal prodded, when Kel didn’t immediately volunteer anything. “Is he being fair, or is he being a Stump?”
Kel sighed. “He’s being fair,” she said. “But I’m not sure that’s good enough for me.”
***
Kel wound her way down to the practice courts used by the Queen’s Riders. There were several people out practicing, and she watched them with interest from the fence. The archers used a recurve style of bow that Kel wasn’t very familiar with, and the swordwork looked to focus on different techniques than the page’s curriculum had, but she wasn’t too worried about it. Buri had seemed well enough aware of the page curriculum and that a year of it would be enough for Kel to be trainable for the Riders.
“Keladry,” a voice said, and Kel startled to realize that Buri had snuck up on her, though she didn’t flinch.
Buri smiled wryly, as though she could tell anyway. “Have you come to join us?”
Kel nodded. “If you’ll still have me.”
“Of course,” Buri said. Her face softened. “I’m sorry,” she added. “I know how much you didn’t want it to come to this.”
Kel sighed. “It didn’t, exactly,” she admitted.
“Oh?” Buri raised an eyebrow at her.
“They didn’t kick me out,” Kel said. “Lord Wyldon made it clear that he didn’t want me to come back, but he wouldn’t tell me that I couldn’t.”
Buri’s eyes gleamed in understanding. “But you’re here anyway.”
“I am,” Kel said. “I want to work with people who’ll treat me-- who treat everyone-- fairly. And I want to focus on doing work that really helps people, not balancing useful work with ceremony and privilege.”
“Worthy desires, both,” Buri said, nodding. She smiled. “Well then, you’d best come with me. We’ll get you settled in.”
***
The Riders were a less formal lot than the pages, for all they still seemed well-disciplined. Kel supposed that having an older enrollment age probably helped with that. Buri introduced her to several people as she gave her a tour of headquarters. Kel would be attached to Buri’s group, the seventeenth, which was internally referred to as Group Askew, and a few of those members were around. Kel met Elkor, a ruddy, burly young man that seemed to have a broad smile for everyone, and Farah, a young Bazhir woman who offered Kel a murmured welcome. She also met Miri Perlman and Padrach haMinch, who led the fourth and tenth groups, Evin Larse, who led the first group and was Buri’s second-in-command, and a large man who introduced himself only as Sarge, who was the training master for new recruits.
The Riders had a loose collection of buildings consisting of a few barracks, a mess hall, stables, an armory and general stores, a headquarters building that also held several class- and meeting-rooms, and several practice courts. Buri introduced her to the horse mistress, Onua, at the stables, and had Kel select two ponies for her use with the Riders; Kel chose a sturdy bay gelding and a lighter chestnut mare. Onua also mentioned slyly that Daine had recently acquired Peachblossom, which eased Kel’s lingering guilt about leaving him at the mercy of the Palace Stables.
Another Rider came through the stable while Kel was getting acquainted with her new mounts, and Buri introduced her to Clarity of Kennan, the second-in-command of Group Seventeen. Kel blinked at the name, and Clarity grinned at her. “Clare,” she said, waving off Buri’s use of her full name. “But my brother’s spoken highly of you. I just hope he hasn’t made too much of a fool of himself.”
Kel smiled, thinking about the array of flowery compliments Cleon liked to tease her with. “I won’t hold it against you,” she promised Clare.
Buri took her leave, leaving Kel in Clare’s hands to get her settled in the barracks. The barracks were well-made but sparse. Kel thought wistfully of her full room and bath in the pages’ wing, but stoically accepted the bunk Clare pointed her towards and noted the amount of storage space she’d have so that she could pack accordingly. That done, Clare towed her along to the stores to be fitted for a uniform and basic armor and kit -- even as a standard-bearer, and not expected to actively engage in combat, she would likely be in combat situations and would have to be prepared for them.
As the tailors took her measurements, Clare chattered happily about life with the Riders, and by the end of their errands in the general stores, Kel had gotten a thorough overview of the training curriculum; much like the page’s schedule, they had physical workouts in the morning, though they went into the afternoon, academic lessons in the evening, followed by meditation and chores. Physical training included riding and tracking in various terrain, weapons, hunting, and hand-to-hand combat, while the more academic training included poisons, medicine (both human and animal, and both infirmary and field), edible plants, cartography, tactics, and how to teach combat skills and tactics to different levels. As with the pages, those with the Gift also had their own training, while those without it studied how to cope with any magic they encountered in the field and support their comrades’ use of magic. By the time Kel had a full kit either with her or on order, it was time for supper. Clare walked her back to the barracks to deposit her new acquisitions, and then to the mess.
“I’m on dish duty tonight,” Clare said apologetically. “But everyone’s very friendly!” She disappeared into the kitchen, and Kel looked apprehensively over the mess. She steeled herself and then went to sit with what looked to be the youngest group, sitting down at the edge of a group of three whose uniforms all marked them as new recruits.
Two of them nodded at Kel briefly before turning their attention back to the group, but the third, a tall, sandy-haired young man, looked at her in anticipation.
“An impartial observer!” He exclaimed. “I am attempting to convince these two ignorant landlubbers of the joy that is sleeping in hammocks, which, despite their never having tried it, they are convinced I am completely making up.”
Kel kept her face carefully smooth. “He’s not making it up,” she said. “One of my teachers slept in a hammock while we were camping this summer.”
“Thank you!” The man exclaimed. “I’m Soren, by the way, Soren Piper.”
“Kel of Mindelan,” Kel said, shaking his offered hand. “But,” she added, catching the eye of the other two. “I can’t say I see the appeal. I don’t know how I’d ever get a good night’s sleep wrapped in something that moved that much.”
Soren collapsed dramatically to the table, a hand pressed to his heart.
“Oh, I like you, I think,” the woman seated with him said, holding out her hand to Kel as well. “I’m Vela Carpenter, and this,” she gestured to the other man seated with them, “is Garek Wainwright.”
“It’s nice to meet you all,” Kel said.
“Are you just starting?” Garek asked.
Kel nodded. “I’m not a recruit, though I hope to be when I’m of age, but for now I’m to be Commander Buriram’s standard-bearer.”
“I didn’t know we had standard-bearers,” Soren remarked.
Kel filed that away to deal with another time.
“Maybe the Riders are going to be called in for more ceremonial responsibilities,” Vela wondered aloud. “The Own does some of that.”
“I hope not.” Garek grimaced.
“But you’re all new recruits?” Kel asked, gesturing at their uniforms to change the subject.
They nodded, and talk turned to the training expedition that would be starting the following week, preparations for which had prompted the debate of hammocks versus bedrolls.
Kel listened mostly, having little to add, but she was grateful for the perspective. Buri and Clare had given her a lot of information about the Riders already, of course, but commanders often couldn’t accurately capture the experience of being a new recruit.
After dinner, everyone congregated around fires in the courtyard, and Vela explained about meditation in a low voice. Kel was surprised but pleased to find such a practice part of their normal lives, even if the way Vela explained it was a little different than what she had been accustomed to in Yaman. She stared into the fire as she pictured her mind as a lake, calm and smooth, letting the occasional ripple play across it but always returning to a smooth, glassy surface. It seemed like not much later Vela was jostling her arm, telling her that it was time for evening classes, and Kel blinked to realize that the sun had set completely and they had been meditating for some time. Vela shot her a smile that was equal parts sympathetic and amused, and Kel followed her away from the fire.
***
“Seventeenth to muster! Forest terrain! Seventeenth to muster!” Kel woke up to a steady repetition of calls through the barracks. She sat up abruptly as her tired brain processed them, and rolled out of bed, reaching for her clothes. The occupants of the bunks around her were also in various stages of waking up and getting dressed.
Kel pulled on her new uniform and kit, slipped her pack onto her back, and then followed the rest of Rider Group Seventeen as they filed out to the stables. Kuri, her chestnut mare, was already tacked up and waiting for her, courtesy of one of the stable boys. “If it’s a long mission, someone’ll come after you with your replacement mounts. And there’s jerky in the first saddlebag,” he told Kel, who thanked him and took Kuri’s reins.
Buri was already mounted and watching as the rest of the group emerged with their ponies. As the last member of their group swung into the saddle, she gave the hand sign for a brisk trot, and Group Askew was off.
They headed into the Royal Forest. They ate as they went; some of the Riders had managed to pull hot rolls or cheese from somewhere, but most of them, like Kel, were making do with the jerky that the hostlers had tucked into their bags.
Word trickled through the ranks; there had been a brush fire that spread into a nearby village. The townsfolk had put it out, but there was some serious damage, and the villagers were unsure whether the fire had been accidental or set.
They found the burnt part of the forest at about midday. The smell of smoke still hung in the air, and the charred ground and underbrush made an unsettling sound under their ponies’ hooves. Kuri whickered nervously, and Kel patted the pony’s neck, trying to keep her own unease out of her body language.
It wasn’t long after that that they came to the village, Oxwood, and Buri signalled the group to halt. She sent a flurry of signals, which Kel didn’t catch all of, to Clare, and then beckoned to Kel, Elkor, and Polya to come with her into the village.
A large chunk of the village’s wall, a 12-foot tall wooden fence, was burned to the ground, along with what looked like half of their main gate. Several of the buildings on that side were also burned down or badly damaged, and there were a few people wandering among them, picking through the rubble and salvaging what they could. There was also a cluster of people in what looked like the town square, where there was a large pot over a fire and an older woman ladling out stew to those gathered around.
A middle-aged woman in rough clothes rose when she saw them, and dusted off her skirts before striding purposefully towards them.
Buri changed her course to intercept the woman’s, and met her about halfway to the square. The woman looked them over critically, her gaze flicking past them to the rest of the Riders outside the gate as well.
“Are you the headwoman?” Buri asked.
“Acting,” the woman said. “Heda Weaver. I’m the one who sent the messenger. My husband wasn’t in any state to.”
Buri nodded grimly in acknowledgment. “My name is Buri. We’re with the Queen’s Riders. What do you most need? We have supplies and medical experience, we can build and repair, we can investigate the source of the fire, and we can do our best to fill in for any of your injured, if their work needs to be done.”
Heda looked appraisingly at them, then nodded slowly. “The injured are well-cared for,” she said. “The wall and gate are what we’re most worried about. The bandits around here are scrappy at best, but they aren’t rare. And we wouldn’t say no to food, if you’ve got it. We kept the hunters back this morning to tend to more urgent things.”
Buri nodded sharply. “We’ll get started on that then,” she said, and gestured to the Riders around her to follow her back to the group. Once there, the Riders clustered in a loose half-circle around her, and Buri began to assign tasks. Kel and Farah were assigned to extract the dry foodstuffs from their supplies and bring it to the village center, then to hunt whatever they could. Another two pairs were assigned to begin on the wall: one pair to help Buri assess the damage and clear out any unsalvageable patches, and another to start gathering lumber. The final pair, which included Avum, the Gifted member of the group, were to go seek out the source of the fire and find out whatever they could. Roles assigned, Buri clapped her hands twice, and they broke their huddle to go about their work.
Kel was surprised by the amount of supplies in the Group’s packhorses. It was packed very efficiently, and already fairly well sorted, so it didn’t take long for her and Farah to identify the saddlebags they needed. That done, they made two trips each from where the ponies were picketed to the village center. Kel wrote out a short list of everything in them, and how much, to leave with the cooks, who thanked them earnestly.
They went back to their ponies to get their bows and other hunting gear, then set off into the woods. Farah was quiet, though not unfriendly, and Kel was glad of the silence. They brought down several rabbits, a few deer, and a handful of grouse as the afternoon wore on, and dusk had them returning, triumphant, to the village with their catches in tow. Buri nodded approvingly at them, and then set them to skinning and preparing, which Kel was happy to do.
As she worked, the other Riders gathered around doing their own debriefing tasks. The builders were only half-way done repairing the damaged wall, which was unsurprising but not ideal. The news from the investigators, though, was far grimmer. The fire had indeed been human-set, though it didn’t seem to be malicious or strategic, but it had evidently gotten out of control. There were remnants of a hastily cleared camp and tracks running deeper into the forest, though not very many-- three or so people, at most, Avum thought. They had tracked the tracks as far as they could, but they vanished over a stream and they had not been able to pick up the trail again before needing to be back to report. Worse, there were magical traces hovering over the site where the fire had started, but they were haphazard, erratic, which meant it was either someone very young or someone who had never had formal training, or both, and the fact that they had fled, and no master had come forward, made it likely they were operating entirely unsupervised as well. It was a grim prospect.
“But not our jurisdiction,” Buri sighed. “And we don’t have the mages to deal with that sort of thing even if it was. We’ll report it back to Corus, and they’ll send someone looking. If they’re this prone to losing control, they’ll have a hard time covering their tracks. We’ll find them. We just have to hope they don’t do too much damage in the meantime.”
They all winced at that, but none of them argued.
“Well,” Buri said, “eat up, everyone, then get back to work. I reckon we can get another section of the wall done before we stop for the night. I’ll draw up a guard roster in the meantime.”
The group murmured acknowledgment and dug into their stew.
“You’ll stand watch with me for my guard shift,” Buri told Kel quietly. “It’s not something I’d normally expect from a standard-bearer, but I assume you want the experience?”
Kel nodded rapidly.
Buri chuckled.
***
Kel awoke to Buri gently shaking her awake, and yawned and crawled out of her bedroll. She had slept in her uniform, as the other Riders with mid-night guard shifts had, and so she only had to grab her pack and pad after Buri. They were joined by Polya, who was also yawning, and they were met with relieved smiles by the two previous guards, who cheerily headed back toward the Rider encampment. Buri and Polya set themselves up on either side of the gap in the wall, turned slightly inward so that they could see both each other and survey the nearby forest, and Buri gestured for Kel to sit next to her, on the side closer to the camp.
“What can you hear?” Buri asked Kel.
Kel listened. The previous shift’s guards were settling into the camp, but Kel knew that probably wasn’t what Buri had meant. Instead, she turned her focus out towards the forest, and the sounds coming from it. “Crickets,” she said after a moment, “and frogs.” She paused, listening intently. “Rodents of some kind; I can hear them scampering over the dry leaves. There are some larger animals moving through the trees, too. Probably deer or wolves, or perhaps a bear or wild boar, but I can’t tell the difference at this range.”
Buri shot her an approving nod.
“Boars are usually grunting,” Polya put in. “If they’re close enough for you to hear them moving, you’ll probably hear that as well.”
“Wolves are usually moving in a pack, and so you’ll hear more movement at once,” Buri added. “And bears tend to make more of a fuss. They’re usually scavenging or foraging, not trying to sneak up on prey, or avoid predators.”
Kel nodded, filing the information away for later. “Deer then?” she asked.
Buri nodded. “Most likely. The stream is a good source of water, and they’ll have learned that they’re safer from hunters at night.”
Kel supposed that made a good deal of sense.
Buri seemed to be satisfied with the educational part of the shift, and she turned insead to asking Polya about her recent visit home, and when that topic lulled, the two of them began to discuss the likely work for the rest of the summer, and then the street vendors in Corus. Buri noticed Kel watching them curiously, and grinned wryly at her. “Guard duty works best when everyone is wide awake who’s supposed to be,” she remarked. “Conversation helps that, and we don’t currently have any need to be stealthy. If anything, us talking might put off an opportunist bandit, if one were to drop by.”
After that, Kel did her best to join in, and, when the conversation turned to food and Kel mentioned the love of pickled plums she’d acquired in Yaman, she was reward with a promise from Polya to show her a pickle vendor she knew of in Corus, whenever they next had a coinciding day off.
Theirs was the last shift before dawn, and as the sky began to lighten, the sounds of crickets and frogs began to fade, to be replaced with that of birdsong.
Buri sent Polya back to start rousing the camp, then turned to Kel. “Can you still hear the animals we thought were deer?” she asked.
Kel listened for a moment, then nodded.
“Very well, let’s find out,” Buri said. She pointed at the nearest tree, a sturdy pine. “Up you go, and let me know what you can see.”
Kel’s gut clenched, and she gulped. Even having spent the first part of the summer climbing every day on Lord Wyldon’s orders, she had yet to survive being more than a few feet off the ground without being ill and frequently freezing up. Still, an order was an order, and glumly Kel walked over to the indicated tree, took a deep breath, and began to climb.
One of the things she had learned over the summer was that as long she looked up, she was usually fine, which meant that if she had a job to do that she could do without looking down, it was imperative that she get it done before she looked down for the first time, because after that it was even odds as to whether she would be able to function at all. She also knew that there was an angle at which looking out from a height was much easier than looking straight down, but what that angle was still tended to vary. Knowing this, she kept her eyes firmly on the branches above her as she climbed to a distance of five meters or so, then braced herself against the trunk and a sturdy branch to survey the forest around her, as far out as she could.
So far, so good, Kel thought as she saw the far side of the village, and her eyes swept out over the forest, noting the charred remains of the trees that had been in the path of the forest fire. Gradually she began to pull her gaze in, looking more and more “down”, remembering that she was supposed to be looking for deer.
“They’re deer,” Kel confirmed after a moment, spotting them.
“Very good,” Buri said.
Kel glanced down at her instinctively, and then her vision swam. She clung to her branch swaying.
“Keladry?” Buri called sharply. “Keladry, are you alright?”
Kel opened her mouth, but sound wouldn’t come out.
“Do I need to come up there?”
The prospect of that was embarrassing enough to snap her out of her dizziness. She breathed in sharply, then refocused on the trunk of the tree as she felt around for the next branch with her foot. Very slowly, she made her way back down the tree.
“If you have time to gawk, you have time to get to work,” Buri said pointedly, and Kel cringed at the audience she must have gathered, but two steps later and she was on the ground, and there were only a couple of Riders on their side of the village, who were now hurrying towards the pile of lumber stacked next to the wall.
Buri looked Kel over critically. Kel swayed, then pressed her hands to her mouth and dived into the nearest bush to be sick. When she emerged, wiping her mouth, Buri was waiting, and she gently pushed Kel down onto a large, flat stone.
“Drink,” she said, pushing a water flask into Kel’s hand.
Kel sipped obediently, her eyes fixed firmly on her feet.
“Bad experiences with heights?” Buri asked.
Kel nodded stiffly.
“What happened?”
Kel hesitated. It was silly, and she didn’t want to admit it, but Buri didn’t seem of a mind to boot her for it immediately, so she didn’t want to risk refusing.
“My brother dangled me off a tower, at Mindelan, when I was four,” she said quietly.
Buri muffled her gasp, but Kel still heard it.
“I can see how that would leave an impression,” she said faintly.
Kel shrugged.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know,” Buri said firmly. “Thayet doesn’t tolerate heights well either, for reasons of her own.”
“It makes me weak,” Kel said. “It makes me a liability.”
Buri sighed. “Yes, it does,” she admitted.
Kel did her best not to wince.
“But,” Buri said, “that doesn’t mean it’s unworkable. We can treat it like we would an allergy, or a stiff leg--do our best to not send you into situations where it’s likely to be a factor, make sure your commanders and the people you work with always know it could be an issue, and what to do if it becomes one. There’s no guarantee it wouldn’t ever be a problem, but it wouldn’t be very often, and you’d have comrades who knew how to help if and when you did.”
“You would do that?” Kel asked, disbelieving, looking up at the commander.
Buri nodded. “We would,” she said. “It would limit what missions you could be assigned, and it would probably limit how high in the ranks you could rise--greater responsibilities require greater versatility, you see--but yes, we could do that, and the Riders would still have a place for you, if that’s the path you want to take with this.”
The implication didn’t escape Kel’s notice. “But there’s another path?”
“There is,” Buri said. “We could also treat this like a faulty reflex, or a bad habit, and drill you until you don’t have this instinct anymore, or at least, you can ignore it to a point that it doesn’t affect your work. It would be a lot of miserable work, I’m sure, but it would mean you have more options, more opportunities later on.”
Kel closed her eyes. Thinking about her fear of heights like an allergy was so tempting. Knowing that there were people who would simply accept her as she was, and work with her limitations, felt wonderful, and was something Lord Wyldon would never have tolerated. But for all that she could still be useful on that path, she would still be crippled. She would still be at the mercy of heights whenever she found herself on them. She took a deep breath and pictured her mental lake, with a dark cloud hovering over the surface. Treating her fear like an allergy would be like frantically swatting at the cloud to go away. If she wanted to be truly free, she would have to learn to live with the cloud, to wait it out until it went away.
She opened her eyes to meet Buri’s. “I’ll do it,” she said. “I want to train until it’s not a problem anymore.”
Buri smiled, and Kel saw a glint of approval in her eyes. “I expected no less. Assuming we’re back to Corus tonight, report to the stable at dawn tomorrow.”
***
Kel stumbled back to the barracks, hoping that she could fit in a pattern dance to settle her before she was due for archery practice. Part of her knew she would probably go to lunch instead, but she didn’t think she could keep anything down, and she didn’t really want to be around people. She wanted to conquer her fear of heights, she really did, but she was also slightly questioning the sanity of that decision after a morning of pitching hay down from the stable lofts. Onua had outlined specific areas for her to pitch the hay into, and watched while she did it, so Kel had to actively look over the edge of the loft to aim. The scant contents of her breakfast hadn’t survived the first pitch, and she still felt light-headed and nauseous, even though she’d been back on blissfully low ground for several minutes.
There was a woman sitting in front of Kel’s bunk when she got there, and Kel groaned internally, though she fixed a polite smile on her face.
The woman smiled kindly up at her. “You must be Keladry.”
“Yes, mistress,” Kel said. “May I help you? I don’t believe we met.”
The woman looked like she was smothering a laugh. “We have not,” she admitted. “My name is Eleni. But I know you by reputation.”
Kel eyed the other woman warily. “I’m afraid my reputation has quite a wide variation.”
Eleni laughed outright at that. “I’m sure it does, so I suppose I should clarify. I know that you’re hard-working. Clever. Thoughtful, especially about ethics and justice. And that you’re determined to overcome your fear of heights.”
Kel relaxed slightly to know that at least Eleni was starting from a positive view of her, though she winced internally at the last bit. She thought she had done quite enough of working with heights today, and she hoped that Eleni wasn’t about to drag her back to the stable, or worse yet, to the palace wall.
“My husband misses your insights in his history classes,” Eleni continued. “Though he doesn’t hold your absence against you.”
That was enough to make the name, vaguely familiar, click. “My Lady of Olau,” Kel said, offering a bow. “I didn’t realize--”
Eleni snorted. “Eleni, or Mistress Cooper, will do, thank you. I don’t stand on ceremony unless I have to, or if there’s a noble being rude. I love Myles, but I’ve been a commoner for most of my life, and it suits me.”
Kel’s mouth twitched, and Eleni grinned.
“Anyway, what I am is a healer in the Lower City. I don’t specialize in the mind, specifically, but you don’t heal in the Lower City without learning a bit of everything. I know what scares can do to folks, and know some techniques that might help.”
Kel blinked, interested.
Eleni smiled gently at her. “Sit,” she said, patting the ground beside her. “We’ll start with some simple grounding.”
***
Kel’s height training became part of her daily routine. The time of day and the type of height varied, much as it had when Lord Wyldon was ordering it, but it was just as difficult and just as unpleasant, possibly even more so because Kel had to live with the knowledge that she had chosen this, and resist the temptation to simply reverse her decision. Buri would let her, she was sure, but she also knew Buri was proud of her choice to fight it, and she didn’t want to give that up.
Some days Eleni would also find her, and they would practice different breathing and thinking techniques. Kel took to using the daily meditation time to practice these techniques as well as trying to employ them during her height training, with mixed results. Her mind, as it turned out, was a harder muscle to train than her sword arm, but she thought she was making progress.
The newest recruits returned from their summer training exercises as the leaves began to change color, and Kel was glad to have some of the younger members around again. The first snow of the season had two groups, including Kel’s, helping a large trade caravan that had gotten caught in the storm on its way to Corus, and a long afternoon and evening later, they stumbled back into the Rider mess to find a late dinner and hot chocolate waiting for them, and they all cheered.
Midwinter with the Riders was a bit different from Midwinter in the pages’ wing, Kel learned. The parties were much less fancy, with everyone pitching in to help, rather than having a clear distinction between guests and servers. They also, while making sure there was always a force available to take calls, made an effort to ensure that members could have part of the holidays off, to celebrate with their families if they were in Corus, attend any Palace events that were open to them, or otherwise just enjoy the break. Several of the parties were also combined with those of the King’s Own, and Kel looked forward to meeting more members of the other fighting force.
Presents, too, were lower key. Most of the gifting excitement revolved around something they called a Thieves’ Trade, which would happen at several of the Midwinter parties. Anyone who wanted to play would bring a gift, and there was a series of rules dictating how that gift could be traded for another. People would go to great lengths to disguise the gifts they had brought, or to procure a gift that had caught their eye, and it wasn’t uncommon for several gifts from one night to reappear the next, if the recipient had decided to try their luck exchanging it for another one. Kel was a bit bewildered by the explanation, but the other Riders all seemed to be looking forward to it, and so she spent a rather enjoyable day off wandering around the market district of Corus, procuring a few gifts that she thought would do nicely for trading.
The first night of Midwinter arrived, and Kel, with some trepidation, gathered up the wrapped scarf she’d bought and followed Clare to a joint Riders-Own party. An onslaught of noise hit her as they ducked through the doorway into the Own’s mess, and Kel stopped, blinking as she took it all in.
There was a small band of string players in the corner furthest from the door, and a clear area nearby that Kel assumed was for dancing, though no one currently was. The serving tables were laden with food, and the festively decorated tree that had adorned the mess for the past few weeks now had a pile of wrapped gifts underneath. Clare beelined for the tree, where both she and Kel added their contributions to the pile, and then to the serving tables, where Clare plopped down the jug of mulled mead she had brought before loading a plate for herself. Kel followed her over and, catching a whiff of the mince pies, promptly followed suit.
All of the food was meant to be easily eaten with fingers and not utensils, and so most of the partygoers were standing or wandering around, holding their plates as they talked. Kel smiled and nodded at several of the Riders and a few members of the Own that she knew, but mostly trailed after Clare, who was happy to let her.
After a wandering circuit around the group, Clare planted herself next to a small grouping of men, whom she introduced to Kel. The one Clare was clearly on more familiar terms with was named Fulcher, but he introduced his two companions: Symric, who seemed to be a rather uncertain fellow, and Lerant, who to Kel’s surprise looked only a few years older than she was, too young to be enlisted. She eyed him curiously, and he sighed. “No, I’m not enlisted,” he said. “But I fight better than some of the ones that are.”
“He does,” Fulcher verified. “Best standard-bearer we’ve ever had!”
“I’m the only standard-bearer you’ve ever had,” Lerant said dryly, but he didn’t look too put out by it.
“Oh, the Own has standard-bearers, too?” Kel asked.
Lerant looked slightly startled, but then relaxed. “Are you Commander Buriram’s standard-bearer, then?” He asked.
Kel nodded.
Lerant smirked. “My Lord told me about you,” he said. “He was all smug about it, too. Buri stole the idea for you from me.”
“Oh?” Kel asked, curious. “What--er--?” She realized that what she had been about to ask might be a deeply personal question.
Lerant smiled wryly. “I have a wonderful family. My aunt Delia, especially, helped ringlead the treason attempt a decade ago. If we’d been a good little fief, I’d be on track to be a knight, but as it is…” he shrugged. “Life with the Own’s well enough, though.”
Kel, unsure of what to say to that, went to take another bite of her mince pie, only to find that her plate was empty.
Lerant’s mouth twitched wryly at her. “If you’re feeling bad for me, I’ll accept a dance.”
Kel’s eyes widened.
Clare laughed and took Kel’s plate from her. “Go on,” she said. “It’ll be fun.” She put both her and Kel’s plates down on a nearby table and reached out her hand to Fulcher, who grinned and pulled her out onto the floor.
Kel looked back at Lerant warily. “I’m not very good,” she said.
Lerant shrugged, and held out his hand.
Letting out a slow breath, Kel took it.
For all he was shorter than her, Lerant was surprisingly adept at maneuvering her, and once Kel relaxed into the movements, she found she was enjoying the music and the rhythm. When he let go as the song ended, it took Kel a moment to come back to herself. Lerant smirked at her again, gave her a short bow, and slipped into the crowd.
Kel looked around for Clare, but before she could find her, Elkor was standing in front of her, holding out his hand, and Kel shrugged internally as she let him pull her into frame. After him, it was Symric, and Kel found herself continuously dancing until the music came to a crescendoed halt, and a loud whistle sounded from the middle of the hall.
Kel gave a quick bow to her current partner-- Soren-- and turned to see what the fuss was about.
There was a man Kel vaguely recognized as a sergeant from the Own’s Second Company standing on a table, gesturing wildly around the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, Riders and Ownsmen, happy Midwinter!” he called out, and the room let out a collective cheer. “We interrupt your dancing and frivolity to bring you,” he paused, letting the suspense build, “the first Thieves’ Trade of the year!” More cheering ensued, and the crowd began to shift, spreading out around the room. There were about eighty of them, Kel estimated, and she was curious how a game of this scale could work.
“The first rule of Thieves’ Trade,” the sergeant said, “is that you may only take or open a gift when you are wearing the Thieves’ hat!” He gestured to someone on the ground, closer to him, and was promptly thrown a gaudy blue silk hat covered in large, embroidered snowflakes. “The second rule of Thieves’ Trade,” he continued, “is that if you steal a gift from a person, and not from the pile, then you must give that person the Thieves’ hat! The third rule of Thieves’ Trade is that only unopened gifts may be stolen! When you have the Thieves’ hat, you may open your gift or not before relinquishing the hat. The fourth rule is that when you take a gift from the pile, you must then bestow the Thieves’ hat on someone who does not yet have a gift. Are there any questions?”
There was a resounding “No!” from the crowd that made Kel think this performance was a long-held tradition.
“Then we will begin!” The sergeant shouted, and spun on the spot, flinging out the hat as he did so. Several people surged forward, though Kel didn’t, to try to catch the hat, and the man who caught it -- a tall, dark-haired man that had something familiar about him, bounded to the pile, where he snatched up a gift to hold it aloft, then offered the hat with a dramatic bow to the nearest person, who happened to be a Rider Kel recognized as being part of Group Eight.
The game moved surprisingly quickly. People seemed to be judging their gifts by feel, sometimes shaking them, before deciding whether to open them, and those who were disappointed with their opened gifts congregated in one corner to attempt informal trades with each other. Those who hadn’t received gifts yet, or hadn’t opened the ones they had, grew closer to the ever-dwindling pile of gifts.
When the dust all settled, Kel was holding a field guide to Immortal species that she was rather pleased about, and Lerant had ended up with the scarf she had brought. It was well after midnight by the time they returned to their beds, and Kel collapsed gratefully into hers without bothering to undress.
Kel had committed to help cook for the third night’s party, and after the long night of the first, she waved off invitations to the second. Instead, she spent the evening practicing pattern dances with her glaive, and when she was satisfyingly sore, curled up in her bunk with her new guidebook, and fell asleep early. She awoke briefly when the others trickled in from the party, but happily slipped back to sleep.
Kel spent a good chunk of the next day in the kitchens, but everyone’s lively spirits, the singing of Midwinter carols throughout the day, and the anticipation of the evening made it feel more like another party than work.
Kel had procured a variety of pickles as her second gift, and when Avum looked less than pleased to have opened them, Polya beelined to offer him a trade. Kel herself ended up with a pair of riding gloves that were good quality but not better than what she had, and supposed she’d probably rewrap them for the next party she came to.
It was nearly midnight when a gust of chilly air went through the room, and Kel glanced over at the now-open door, and saw people shifting around, but couldn’t tell who it was. She shrugged and turned back to Clare, but she was already weaving towards the door. Interested, Kel followed.
She caught up to Clare hugging a large young man whose hair was as bright red as her own, and Kel stared, surprised, and then she registered who was standing next to him.
“Neal?” She exclaimed.
Neal grinned at her. “Kel!” He said, and nearly tackled her with a hug. “Have you missed us?”
Kel swallowed as her heart seemed to flip-flop in her chest at Neal’s touch. “Of course I’ve missed you,” she said, whacking him on the arm and mentally trying to whack the silly feelings away with the same force.
“Kel! Pearl of my heart, my soul is overjoyed to see you again,” Cleon said, sweeping over to her for a hug of his own.
Kel scowled at him. “I’m not even the only girl around anymore! There’s plenty of other girls here for you to flirt with.”
“But none of them are so fair--- oof! ”
“Don’t make me regret inviting you,” Clare told her brother.
Cleon rubbed his side where she’d elbowed him and scowled at her, but didn’t say anything more.
Kel grinned at Clare.
“So why are you here?” Kel asked Neal.
“Can’t wanting to see my good friend Kel be enough?” Neal asked wickedly.
Kel stuck her tongue out at him.
“Meathead!” A voice behind Kel called out.
Neal sighed. “Truly, the things I put up with for family,” he told Kel with a commiserating look.
An Ownsman Kel recognized from the Thieves’ Trade the other night came through the crowd towards them, and swept Neal up in a hug that looked equal parts affectionate and painful. When he let go, he looked curiously between Neal and Kel. “I didn’t realize you were that Kel,” Dom said, looking at her closely.
Kel shot a wary look at Neal, who shrugged, unrepentant.
“You’ve missed most of the festivities, but there’s still food,” Dom said, and towed Neal away. Kel made to follow them, but Cleon caught her lightly by the arm.
“Kel?” he said nervously, then cleared his throat.
Kel looked at him, apprehensive.
“Would you like to dance?” He asked, gesturing at the half-full dance floor.
Kel stared at him for a moment, thrown by how serious he was. With a twinge of guilt, Kel wondered if her comment about there being other girls to flirt with had made him self-conscious. She made herself smile. “Alright,” she said, and tucked her hand into his as they moved out onto the floor.
Cleon looked like he wanted to say something as they danced, but he didn’t, and Kel, bewildered, didn’t say anything either. When the song ended, he opened his mouth, but whatever he’d been about to say was cut off by Clare bumping her brother good-naturedly in the side. “My turn,” she said, holding out a hand to Cleon.
Cleon grimaced apologetically at Kel, but Kel smiled back, privately a bit relieved to be free of whatever odd mood had gotten into her friend. She withdrew to give Clare room and, seeing that Neal was also busy dancing by now (Kel wondered fleetingly if she should warn Vela about Neal’s penchant for bad poetry), she accepted Lerant’s request for another dance.
It wasn’t long before the party wound down, and Kel hugged Neal and Cleon goodbye (Cleon let go so quickly Kel wondered if she might be feverish) before going to find her bed.
***
The rest of Midwinter passed without incident, and Kel settled again into the usual routines of the Riders. A thaw in late January had them helping a village recover from flooding, and February brought them work with the King’s Own helping to rescue several miners from a collapsed mine, and then re-excavate and stabilize it.
The spring brought a series of small skirmishes with forest bandits and coastal raiders. As standard-bearer, Kel’s responsibilities on combat missions were mainly in logistical support and back up. When Buri went to talk to the local villages, Kel went with her, and she also did most of the accounting for their group’s supplies. When most of the group went into direct combat, Kel stayed with the pair tasked with guarding the camp. Often, they chose a location that was a possible flight route for the bandits, and so it also fell to them to pick off any bandits that slipped through the net the Riders and Own sprung, but that had yet to happen.
It was early summer when Kel awoke abruptly in the barracks to someone shaking her shoulder. She sat up, blinking. She could hear calls in the distance, but they were for another group, another barracks, not hers.
“Farah?” she asked.
“One of the Own stopped by with a note for you,” Farah said, pushing a slip of paper into Kel’s hand.
Kel yawned and dragged herself out of bed, over to the nearest torch, and squinted down at at.
Kel, the note said, in a handwriting that she didn’t recognize. Uncle Baird told me Neal’s in the infirmary, and it looks bad. I’m headed there myself at once. I thought you might want to know. -Dom
Kel’s heart went to her throat. The pages were meant to be at summer camp already; if they had had to come back…She returned briskly to her bunk and began to dress. “My friend’s hurt,” she told Farah. “I’m going up to the infirmary, can you--?”
“I’ll tell Buri,” Farah promised.
Kel clasped her hand in thanks, and took off running.
***
“Kel?”
Kel’s head snapped around at the parched, but still recognizable voice. “Merric?” She asked, going over to him. He was sporting bandages on much of his head and torso, and Kel could see several bruises besides. “What happened?”
“Bandits.” Merric grimaced.
“How many of you?” Kel breathed.
“Six,” Merric said. “But we’re all…Neal was unconscious, last I knew, but everyone was alive when…when Lord Wyldon caught up with us.”
Kel let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“It was bad,” Merric said. “But the ladies like scars, right? I’m hoping this leaves me with some good ones.” He gave her a lopsided smile, the effect of which was somewhat ruined when it turned into a grimace.
Kel shook her head in exasperation, but she was relieved that he was feeling well enough to joke.
“But if you didn’t know, why are you here?”
“Duke Baird sent word to Neal’s cousin in the Own,” Kel said, “and he left a note for me, but it didn’t have any details, and it only mentioned Neal.”
“Ah,” Merric said, then he nodded farther into the ward. “I heard His Grace say something about magical exhaustion, but he’s down that way.”
Kel murmured her thanks and set off down the ward.
She found Neal on a bed at the very back of the ward, an exhausted Duke Baird and a grim-looking Dom hovering over him. Baird looked up as she approached and sighed.
“He should be alright, in time,” the healer said. “But I’m not sure how long it will be before he wakes up. His magical reserves were entirely depleted, and they’ve started to regenerate, but very slowly.”
Kel nodded and reached out to squeeze Neal’s hand. He didn’t respond to her, but as she looked closely at him she could see the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
“Thanks for coming,” Dom murmured quietly, coming to clasp her shoulder.
“Of course,” Kel said. “I’m glad you let me know.” She looked back to Baird. “Is there anything…?”
Baird shook his head. “He’s stable. It’s just a matter of waiting now. And as much as I want to shout at him when he wakes up for letting this happen to himself…the others are stable now, too, but a couple of them were in a ghastly state when the field healers got to them. They said it was a miracle some of them were still alive, so…” He sighed and looked down, running a gentle hand through his son’s curls. “I can’t say he did wrong. And I’m grateful beyond words that he didn’t pay for it with his life.”
Dom squeezed his uncle’s shoulder.
Baird sighed again, then offered Kel a strained smile. “He’ll be glad you stopped by, though, I’m sure,” he said.
Kel nodded. It was not a dismissal, exactly, but she was suddenly aware that she’d rushed into what the duke had probably expected to be a family affair. “Let me know…?”
“I will,” Dom promised.
Kel nodded her thanks, and set off back towards the Riders wing.
“Oh good,” Buri said, when Kel found her in the mess; breakfast was about to end, and Kel snagged a couple of sausage rolls to last her through the morning’s training.
“I’m sorry--” Kel began, but Buri waved her off.
“How is he?” Buri asked.
“Unconscious from magical exhaustion, but Duke Baird thinks he’ll make a full recovery eventually,” Kel said. “And the others are stable too; turns out it was a whole group of pages, not just Neal.”
Buri nodded grimly. “We’re heading out at noon to back up the groups that left this morning,” she said. “They think the district commander might have been taking payoffs, which means the whole area could be teeming with them.”
Kel gulped.
“If it’s personal for you, though, you should sit this one out,” Buri said, firmly but not unkindly. “I’ll attach you to another group for training while we’re gone. If you’re worried about your injured friends, that distraction could be a problem. And if you’re angry about it, if you want revenge, you might get reckless, and that’s also a problem your comrades might not be able to afford.”
Kel thought about it. “I’m not worried, really,” Kel said. “Duke Baird’s the best healer we have, and he expects them all to make a full recovery.”
“But you’re angry?” Buri prodded.
“I am,” Kel admitted, “But I was angry about the raiders in the spring, too. I’d be angry even if this had happened to people I didn’t know, and I don’t want revenge. I want justice. I want them to be tried and punished by the law.”
Buri watched her carefully, but nodded. “Very well then,” she said. “No training this morning. Eat more than that.” She cast a pointed look at the hastily grabbed pastries in Kel’s hand. “And then pack up. We leave at noon.”
***
Bandit-hunting on such a large scale turned out to be rough work, even with Kel not being allowed in primary combat. Altogether, three Rider Groups and the Third Company of the King’s Own had been dispatched for the job. Though Dom had been given leave on account of his closeness to Neal, Kel welcomed the chance to work with Lord Raoul again, and enjoyed the company of Qasim, Lerant, Fulcher, and some of the other men she had gotten to know, when the groups came together to camp or to strategize. Buri and Raoul seemed to particularly thrive under the partnership, and Kel sat fascinated as the two pored over maps together, drawing the paths of imaginary fighters with their hands and emerging from such a session looking invigorated and having a watertight plan of attack.
What Kel did see of the bandits and their camps was grim; they rarely found anyone with clothing or weapons in good condition, and the few children discovered in the camps were naked and starving. When they stopped in one of the towns to gather information, Kel learned that the region was in its second year of a drought, and the increase in banditry was largely due to struggling farmers being thrown off their farms. She knew that that didn’t excuse what the bandits had done--they still deserved to be caught and made to answer for their crimes under the law--but it was unsettling all the same.
Late summer found them camped as a full group in a large hollow. The teams to confront the bandits rode out just after dawn, leaving Elkor and Polya to guard the Rider’s side of things with Kel, and Fulcher and a man named Wolset with Lerant guarding the Own’s.
The six of them took up guard positions around the camp, used to the routine. There was a steep, crumbling trail up to the cliff that encircled most of the hollow on one side, which Kel shuddered to look at, and two other, lower paths into the surrounding forest. They cycled their positions every half-hour, ensuring that they remembered to stretch and giving fresh eyes on each part of the camp.
Kel had just eaten a quick midday meal and tagged Polya out to take her own break, when the sounds of distant shouting reached them. Polya abruptly dropped the roll she’d picked up and drew her spear, and the others likewise stiffened, tightening their hold on their weapons and listening intently. The shouting didn’t grow any louder, but before long it began to be accompanied by horn calls, and Kel’s blood ran cold as she recognized them.
“That’s dire,” Polya said, her face pale.
“We need to help,” Elkor, the senior of the two of them, said, already moving to untether his pony.
“Kel--,” Polya began.
Kel swallowed. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I’ll keep watch.”
“Be careful. If you need to, leave everything and flee.” Elkor nodded grimly at her and, then he and Polya were off, galloping into the trees.
The Ownsmen had evidently been having their own similar conversation, because Fulcher and Wolset soon followed. Kel exchanged an uneasy look with Lerant. They both untethered their mounts and kept them with them as they paced around the hollow, eyes darting nervously around the camp and into the trees.
There was a cry from up on the cliff, and Kel squinted up at it. A child, Kel guessed no more than three years old, scarcely clothed and covered in dirt, ran out onto the cliff face, shrieking as it came to the edge.
“Stay there,” Kel called out to the child, hoping it was old enough to understand her. “You’ll fall. We’ll…” she hesitated. If something was going wrong with the hunt, she needed to be ready to go at a moment’s notice, not stuck at the top of a cliff trying to corral a child.
The child was still stumbling closer to the edge of the cliff though, which meant Kel couldn’t be sure it would stay safe at the top. She threw a quick glance at Lerant. “We have to do something,” she said, gesturing.
Lerant nodded grimly. “Be quick,” he said.
Kel took a step towards the steep trail that wound its way up the cliff, her eyes still on the child, and then a tendril of green goo landed on the child, and Kel stopped thinking. “Spidren!” she yelled as she took off up the trail at a sprint.
She felt rock crumble underneath her as she ran, and her hands scrabbled at the path as her ascent turned into a half climb, forced to drop the spear she was holding to keep herself from falling. She could hear the clicking of the spidren and the sound of the child being dragged across the ground. A spear--hers, she realized--soared up from behind her and lodged itself into the soft dirt near the top of the cliff. She grabbed it with one hand and pushed herself up with the other as she cleared the ledge.
The spidren had almost reeled in the child, who was now almost entirely encased in a glowing green cocoon, though its mouth was still free and wailing. The spidren turned its attention on Kel as she sprung up, her spear held out in front of her. It paused, assessing her, then smiled at her with sharp teeth and raised its spinneret.
Kel was ready, and dodged the glowing web as she charged. Raising its spinneret meant the spidren was balanced on only two of its eight legs, and she slashed at one of the ones still on the ground, causing it to flail backward and shriek at her. Kel ducked backward to avoid the spidren’s answering slashes, though one of them still left a painful graze on her arm. She hunched over the child and severed the web connecting it to the spidren with her spear.
A wad of webbing landed on her right leg, and she hacked at it with her spear, freeing herself. Her mind raced for what to do with the child. She could hardly carry it and defend herself at the same time, and she knew if she touched the webbing it would stick, so she couldn’t simply move it further out of the way. If she could get into a sling or something, she might be able to descend the cliff with it, but the spidren would fare far better on that path than she would. The sling idea had merit though, and Kel jabbed at the spidren again with the spear, then used its moment of distraction to bend down and brush her upper back against the child’s cocoon. She felt the pull as it stuck to the back of her leather armor and, praying it would hold, lunged away from the spidren again.
The child’s weight was awkward but not unworkable. The spidren lunged forward, and Kel was forced back towards the path. As she neared it, an arrow whizzed by her and stuck one of the spidren’s legs. The spidren hissed but didn’t slow, its pincers clicking madly as it pursued Kel. She heard Lerant curse from somewhere below her, but then she was at the edge and she had nowhere to go but down.
She took one last slash at the spidren, this time scoring a graze along its abdomen, and then she began to scrabble backwards down the cliff, letting her spear fall to the ground below. Her vision blurred slightly as she watched where she was setting her feet, but looking back up at the spidren cleared it. It was leering at her over the edge of the cliff, and Kel saw it cast a tendril of web to anchor itself and then start to descend after her.
About halfway down the trail was a solid enough section for Kel to take up a fighting stance again, drawing her sword. Another arrow flew past her, this one lodging in the spidren’s abdomen but no more effective than the last. Remembering the spidren colony she had helped fight the previous summer, Kel had a wild idea. “Torches!” She yelled. “Light torches!”
She heard Lerant shout something that she hoped was affirmative. The spidren’s legs were almost within reach of her sword, and she began to hack at them. It writhed on its silken rope, and Kel ducked to avoid its flailing legs. It dropped closer, and Kel heard a whoosh as another projectile, bigger than an arrow, soared past her. Her eyes widened as she saw what it was, and she dodged sideways, narrowly avoiding skidding off the small landing. Above her, the thrown torch hit true against the spidren’s rope, and it went up in flames. The spidren jerked down sharply, then tumbled, shrieking and flailing as it bounced on the edge of Kel’s landing and then down the slope. Not wanting to leave Lerant alone with it if it recovered, Kel started her descent again.
The spidren shrieked again, this one even more ear-splitting than the last, and then cut off abruptly. The sounds of pounding hooves reached her then, and she quickened her descent, slipping and scrabbling the last few meters to the gloriously solid ground. She whirled, praying it was not bandits or worse. She saw the deep brown and white of the Riders and the blue, white, and silver of the Own through the trees, and sagged in relief. Lerant caught her before she collapsed completely, being careful to avoid touching the spidren’s webbing on her back. Kel clasped his arm in thanks, then pushed him away so that she could be sick.
Dimly, the cries of the child, which she had tuned out during the fight, began to register again, and looking back to ensure that it was their allies who were now pouring into the hollow, and looking more relaxed than they would be if there was more fighting to be had, she shrugged out of her armor and turned it around. The child was still crying, but didn’t look hurt.
Clare rode up to her, eyes wide as she took in Kel’s distinctly worse-for-wear appearance and the curiously cocooned child. She dismounted, and after a moment withdrew a spare saddle blanket to wrap around the child, then gingerly took the bundle from Kel and began to rock it. After a few moments, the child’s cries faded.
“Report, standard-bearer.”
Kel startled and spun. She hadn’t realized that Buri had come up behind her.
Buri’s mouth twitched, though she looked exhausted. “Do you need a healer urgently?” She asked.
Kel shook her head. “It’s just bruises and shallow cuts,” she said.
Buri looked Kel over and then nodded. “Report then,” she said. “We have an unidentified child and a half-burnt spidren carcass to take care of before we can cart our new bandits off to the magistrate.”
***
“Raoul? To what do I owe the pleasure?” Jon asked, looking up from the map he was examining.
Raoul sauntered into the study, whistling. “I’ve been feeling a bit… traditional ,” he said.
Jon’s eyes narrowed. “What, dare I ask, are you up to?”
“So suspicious,” Raoul tsked. “Maybe I’m just getting…sentimental, in my old age, and I’ve decided I want to give the Conservatives a bit less reason to have problems with me--”
Jon massaged his temples. “Out with it, old man.”
“Knighthood training used to be less formal, you know,” Raoul said. “A knight would find a promising youngster to take under his wing until the youngster was ready to face the Ordeal. There wasn’t this fine distinction between page and squire, or all this stuffy palace training.”
“The Big Exams are required by law,” Jon reminded him pointedly. “But it’s true that pages need not study at the palace. One could still choose to learn through personal service to a knight, if he wished.”
“Excellent,” Raoul said. “Turomot said the same. I’m thinking about getting me one of those.”
“You haven’t had a squire for…”
“Twenty years, give or take,” Raoul said. “Haven’t needed one, since I’ve been with the Own, really, but like I said, I’m feeling traditional. ”
“Dare I ask whom you might be feeling traditionally inclined towards?” Jon asked wryly.
Raoul grinned at him. “Keladry of Mindelan,” he said.
Jon groaned. “She chose to leave page training,” he said pointedly. “Of course, if she wants to come back--”
“She didn’t want to train with someone who wasn’t going to be fair, and frankly I don’t blame her,” Raoul said. “Wyldon let her stay because he was still clinging to a thread of honor, but that wasn’t good enough for Kel, especially when she had other options.”
Jon glared, but didn’t argue.
“Frankly I think we’re lucky she’s still serving our realm at all, and didn’t run off to enlist with the Yamanis,” Raoul added. “But as it is, she’s been helping with the Riders, and she’s shaping up into a formidable fighter. Possibly a formidable commander, with the right training, and she’d get it, with the Riders, but I think we’ll be the ones missing out if we don’t give her a fair chance at knighthood.”
Jon sighed. “And you want to go behind Wyldon’s back to give her that chance.”
Raoul smiled coldly. “He’s a traditional bloke. I’m sure he won’t begrudge me at all.”
“Very well.” A half smile flitted across Jon’s face. “Maybe this will make Alanna calm down about the whole affair, and come back to Corus,” he said.
Raoul raised an eyebrow at him. “If you in any way imply that this was your idea, she will have multiple people taking care to correct that impression,” he said.
Jon scowled at him. “And I suppose you want all the credit for it, even though this has Buri written all over it.”
“Nope,” Raoul said cheerfully. “Getting a fantastic squire out of this deal is more than enough for me. I don’t need the credit, and I wouldn’t dream of taking it away from its rightful claimant.” He smiled broadly at the king. “Do tell Thayet thank you for me, will you?” He gave an exaggerated bow and strode out.
***
“Lord Raoul!” Kel greeted the knight commander as he leaned on the training yard fence. “It’s wonderful to see you.”
“Likewise,” Raoul said. “I was wondering if you might have a few minutes.”
“Of course, sir,” Kel said, unstringing her bow and stowing it away before joining up at the side of the yard.
Raoul gestured to a bench nearby, and they both sat.
Kel’s eyes widened as Raoul began to explain his offer. When he was done, he sat back, his eyes on her, questioning. It took Kel a moment to find her voice. “I’d be honored to train with you, sir,” she said. “I accept.”
Raoul beamed at her.