The egg exploded with a loud bang and a ball of fire shot into the sky. The flame gathered itself and fell straight into the ring of stones, igniting the kindling.
Ranulf glanced up. “You have announced our position well.”
Almaric shrugged. “I am a bit out of practice. I should have held it lower, perhaps.”
“Perhaps.”
Holly huddled close to the fire. The temperature was quickly falling. In a few minutes the cat returned bearing a net of fat, troutlike fish (“Jade has his own talents,” Almaric said when he saw Holly’s surprised face). Within an hour, the fish were cleaned, roasted, and eaten, and Holly helped Almaric make up beds from the rolls of blankets he had brought. Two minutes later, she was sound asleep.
Chapter 30
* * *
The Lesson
Everett guessed that the court of King Reynard was normally a rather dull place, for he could think of no other reason for the news of their change of status to spread so quickly. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have said courtiers were texting one another on their mobiles. Everyone treated Everett and Ben very differently now. Pagett did not lock the chains around them again, but merely led them out of Avery’s chamber and beckoned to Dart. Pagett brought them into a small room and said to the page, “Attend these youth. They shall need baths and fresh attire.”
“Aye, Sir Pagett.” Dart bustled about the room as the knight walked out. He built up the fire and settled a huge cauldron on hooks above it.
Ben watched him darkly as he went about his duties. “You shouldn’t have lied to us about Holly getting killed,” he said, when Dart turned back to them.
The page paled. “I—I merely said what was surely to happen.”
“Still, it was a pretty awful thing to say. She’s my sister.”
Ben’s face was turning red, and Everett stepped between them. No point in getting them in more trouble. “It’s all right, no harm done. Holly’s escaped, hasn’t she? Thanks for the bath, Dart.”
“I shall speak to Laundress about clothes for you. Mind the fire,” he said, eyeing Ben, and walked out.
“You’re making friends pretty fast,” said Ben, scowling as he trailed his fingers along the stone hearth.
“Well, oughtn’t I? We’re trying to stay alive, remember?”
“I know. I just don’t trust this prince guy. First he’s like, ‘We’re gonna kill you,’ and then it’s, ‘You’re gonna joust with a wand.’ And you’re all ready to just dump him in downtown Hawkesbury—”
Everett sighed. “So what if he mucks about a bit in our world? He won’t want to stay there.”
“You hope,” said Ben. “Meantime, you get to do all the fun stuff with magic, and I’m stuck being your servant. And I bet the clothes will be itchy.”
“Probably,” said Everett, trying to be agreeable. “But at least we’ll both be wearing them, yeah?”
Their bath was not nearly so nice as Holly’s. Dart filled a wooden barrel with well water, but even when he had tempered it with the heated cauldronful, it was much colder than the boys were used to. They scrubbed as best they could with a rough towel and a strong-smelling soap. Eventually they were reasonably clean and dressed in clothes very much like the ones Hornbeak had found for Holly. (Although instead of leggings, they wore knitted hose, which looked like pantyhose cut apart. It was lucky for them Holly couldn’t see them.) They buckled drawstring pouches to their belts. Ben stashed his inhaler and packets of pills in his.
It wasn’t long before Pagett returned. He walked around them, nodding. “ ’Tis an improvement, to be sure. Come.”
Despite a more or less friendly manner, the knight kept his sword drawn. He grasped Ben’s elbow and prodded Everett ahead of him. They walked out of the castle and across the drawbridge to a large field near the east tower. Several rows of seats, like bleachers, had been built upon high platforms around it, forming a sort of arena. The center was cleared of grass. The prince, astride his black stallion, had exchanged his bright silks for sturdier riding clothes, but they were still quite a bit finer (and more comfortable, Everett assumed) than anything the boys were wearing. Avery trotted his horse to where they stood.
“Release them, Sir Pagett. They be not fools enough to bolt.” The prince glanced up, and both Everett and Ben followed his gaze. A few spectators were scattered among the seats—Everett recognized Lord Clement—along with at least ten archers, crossbows at the ready. “Their aim is excellent.”
So much for running, Everett thought.
“A horse for my champion!” commanded the prince, and in a few moments, Dart appeared from behind the stands leading a fat yellow mare. With the other hand, he pulled a wooden cart loaded with supplies. “Thou hast some knowledge of horsemanship, I presume?”
“Some, Your Highness,” Everett answered.
“Squire! Help thy knight to his mount.”
Everett glanced at Ben, who was pulling fretfully at his tunic. “That’s you!” he whispered.
“What? What do I do?”
“Take the horse.”
“Are you crazy? I can’t touch horses! You didn’t notice yesterday?”
Avery paced his stallion back and forth impatiently. “Squire! Perform thy duties!”
“That leather thing is covered with horsehair! I’m already getting congested.” Ben found a handkerchief in his pouch and blew his nose.
“Ben, if you don’t, they won’t have any use for you,” said Everett. “Here, take this.”
Everett handed his own handkerchief to Ben, who wrapped it around his hand. He turned his face away from the horse as he took the lead from Dart. “Okay, now what?”
“Steady,” said the page. “Await your master’s mount.”
“My master?”
“Just hold her still.” Everett shoved one foot into the stirrup. The mare was so docile she hardly noticed Everett climbing aboard.
The prince walked his own horse alongside. “A worthy steed for my champion!”
“Just how do you expect me to win with a horse like this?”
Dart whispered something to Ben, who called up, “Her name’s Buttercup, Everett.” And then, after some more furious whispering, he added, “I mean, my lord.”
“Behold, ’tis what she fancies,” said Avery, as Buttercup wandered over to nibble a patch of wildflowers.
“You’re not serious! I’ll never get her into a trot, let alone a gallop at full tilt.” Everett tugged at the reins, but the horse ignored him.
“A true horseman will conquer any steed.”
Everett considered this, and remembered what his riding teacher had told him. He sat up tall. The saddle was little more than a shaped blanket of leather thrown over the mare’s back. A wooden cantle reinforced with an iron plate supported most of his lower back. A rectangular piece of wood was built into the front. He ran his fingers along its edges. It looked like a painful thing to fall against if he were unseated.
“What’s that thing?” Ben asked, pointing to where Everett’s hand rested.
“ ’Tis the pommel,” said Avery. “It shall protect thy knight like naught else.”
“If it doesn’t slice him open.”
“Thou knowest little of jousting, or wouldst not speak so. Should an opponent’s lance hit there, it will do little harm. Else the danger would be grave indeed.”
Everett glanced down at the area the pommel covered. The prince had a point.
“Of course, thou wilt have full armor as well,” the prince continued. “In training this is not vital. But look there! Some of thy opponents!”
Everett glanced behind him and saw a few of the castle knights walking horses out to the pitch, followed by boys he took to be their squires. Two of the knights dismounted and drew swords.
“Fencing is another tournament contest,” Avery said. “But we shall not have thee essay it. The danger be too great for the inexperienced.”
“And this isn’t?” Everett’s mare backed away as Dart handed
him a long stick like a broom handle.
“Whilst thine is not a proper lance, ’twill do for training purposes. I shall show thee how to wield it, but the knights of the realm, Sir Everett, are highly skilled. The task shall not be simple. Squire, my shield!”
Dart handed Avery an armored shield painted scarlet with a wide gold stripe across the top. Below the stripe was the image of a black bird, its wings outstretched, holding crossed swords in its talons.
“Well, squire?” Everett nudged Ben with his stirrupped foot. “Have I got a shield, or what?”
“Let me look.” Ben sorted through the items on the wooden cart. “I guess this is it.” He held up something that looked like the lid from a garbage can.
Everett glanced at the prince. “I know. ’Twill do for training purposes.”
“Quite so. Now, to the lists!” Avery turned his horse and cantered to the center of the pitch in front of the grandstand, which Everett knew was called the berfrois. He prodded Buttercup with his heel until she followed.
Down the center of the area stretched a wooden fence about three feet high. “This barrier be called the tilt,” said the prince. “At the tournament it will be covered with banners and rich decor, but for now—”
“ ’Twill do for training purposes?” Ben suggested.
“Don’t interrupt,” Everett said.
“You said it before.”
“Look sharp,” said the prince. “Sir Loverian!”
One of the fencing knights fended off a blow and nodded to his opponent, then walked over to join them. Avery called to the boy attending him. “Squire, fetch thy lord’s lance and horse.”
“Aye, Your Highness.” The boy sprinted away.
“Thou art acquainted with the prisoners, my lord?” the prince asked.
“To a degree, sire.” Everett recognized him as the knight who had saved Ben’s life the night before.
“For our royal amusement, we have dubbed the prisoner Sir Everett. And his squire . . . ”
“Ben Shepard,” said Ben.
“The Adept’s kinsman,” said the knight.
“Yes, sir. My lord.”
“You be a bit improved from the evening.”
“Thanks for—”
“Anyway,” Everett interrupted loudly, “I’m learning to joust.” He didn’t want to get the knight in trouble.
“Too true! Loverian, thou and I shall give a demonstration.”
Loverian’s squire returned, leading a tall piebald gelding. He helped Loverian mount it, then handed him his jousting tools.
“Sir Everett, mind what we do,” said the prince. “In the joust à plaisance, we seek merely to disarm or unseat the opponent, never to kill. Elsewise there should be no knights left to defend His Majesty. Pray, how many tournaments hast thou won, Loverian?”
“Seven, Your Highness.”
The prince beamed. “One of His Majesty’s finest knights.”
“Sir Grandor has won eight, I believe, Highness.”
“Grandor does have a fierce nature. He has also been cited for unchivalrous conduct, else he might have won ten by this time.”
“What’s that?” Ben asked. “Unchivalrous conduct?”
“A knight above all must be a man of honor,” Loverian said, glancing at Ben but looking harder at Everett. “A knight does not strike an unarmed opponent. A knight does not steal, nor resort to trickery. A knight does not, in short, dishonor his king.”
Everett shifted in his saddle, and Buttercup snorted. He refrained from saying that he hadn’t seen much chivalry from the king’s knights, one of whom had been ready to slit the throat of a ten-year-old the night before. Still, Loverian seemed all right, or better than the others, anyway. He didn’t like Everett, and that made him uneasy. He was sure the knight would not hurt him, but he wanted Loverian’s respect.
The prince noticed nothing. “Well said, Loverian. And now clear the path, Sir Everett. Squires!”
The boys leaped to their jobs as Everett walked his pitiful mare to the edge of the lists, where she found some clover to chew on. Avery trotted his horse to the far end of the tilt. Loverian walked around it to the opposite side, so that the two were facing each other with the tilt between them on their left sides. Loverian’s horse snuffled and hoofed the ground, eager to get going. Loverian patted its neck and whispered to it.
Everett watched closely. He’d seen jousting demonstrations before, but nothing so realistic as this. Loverian was using only a practice lance, padded at one end with a bit of cloth tied around it. He hugged his shield to his left side, and held the lance upright like a flag. He sat tall and focused his dark eyes directly on the prince.
“Prêt!” shouted Avery from the opposite end.
“Prêt!” repeated Loverian.
The horses took off at a healthy canter. Loverian’s jaw was tight, his eyes unblinking, and Everett remembered that Avery was just a kid, and Loverian a full-grown knight.
The horses drew closer.
Just before they met, Loverian brought his lance down across the horse’s left shoulder. It pointed just across the tilt, square at Avery’s chest. The prince lowered his lance as well. The two collided.
Avery’s lance glanced off the pommel of Loverian’s saddle, but Loverian’s hit the prince full in the chest. Avery lurched, but righted himself as the knight flew by him. In a moment he had arrived at Everett’s end of the barrier, whirled his horse around, and made another run. Loverian was coming toward them now, his dark hair flying. The lances came down. Everett could see now how well Loverian was using his shield—he fended off Avery’s blow easily—but he couldn’t see from his angle exactly what kind of thrust jolted Avery out of the saddle and into the dirt, where he rolled over and groaned.
Loverian dismounted and sprinted to the prince’s side. Everett jumped off his own horse and ran over too, with Ben and Dart. “Your Highness!”
“No matter, sir knight.” Avery rolled over again. “ ’Tis nothing.”
“Take care, sire.” Loverian spoke gently and cradled the prince’s head in his lap. He glanced up at Dart. “His Highness is hurt.”
“I am not! I be perfectly fit.” Avery tried to stand, but limped and stumbled.
Loverian caught him. “Allow me to be of aid.” He led the prince to the shade of a broad poplar tree at the edge of the tournament lists. “Squire, fetch your liege a cushion or chair.”
“I must train the prisoner,” Avery said, sounding whiny. “I have no need of a nursemaid.”
“Leave it to me, Highness. In time you can rejoin us.”
Even as he spoke, Dart was scurrying back from the castle with a cushion.
“It’s his ankle. You need to ice it,” Ben said. Everyone looked at him. “To keep the swelling down. Believe me, I’ve fallen a lot.”
“Where’re they going to get ice?” Everett asked.
“Well, they—oh. Right.”
“ ’Tis hardly the season,” Loverian said.
“At least elevate it. You could make a compress. The well water’s pretty cold.” Ben glanced around and then pulled over a short log. “Get a cloth or something, soak it in cold water, and wrap it around his ankle. Here, I’ll show you.”
Several arms eased Avery onto the cushion, and Ben lifted the ankle carefully, setting it on the log. “You’ll want something soft to lay it on. And a bucket of water, so you can keep changing the wrapping and keep it cold.” When no one moved, he barked, “Well? Get going!”
Dart sprang into action, running toward a well, which Everett could just make out on the edge of the grounds. Loverian pulled a handkerchief from somewhere on his person. “Will this do as a wrap?”
“Something thicker would be better, but it should be okay.”
In a few minutes, Dart returned with a bucket of well water. Ben dunked the handkerchief in and wrung it out, then wrapped it around the injured ankle.
“Ah! By the king’s beard, ’tis cold!” Avery exclaimed. “But soothing. Well done, squire!
From here shall we watch the proceedings until such time as our royal person be restored. Carry on, Loverian!”
“As you wish, Your Highness.”
Everett returned to Buttercup, who had used her spare time to gather more breakfast. He gazed off toward the Northern Wood. The prince’s injury would’ve been the perfect time to bolt. Avery himself couldn’t have followed them, and the archers were distracted. They might’ve gotten away safely.
Loverian brought his horse across Buttercup’s path, breaking Everett’s line of sight. “You would have broken His Highness’s trust,” he said in a low voice, “and been captured all the same. Your best chance is here, young knight. Pray it not go to waste.”
Chapter 31
* * *
Into the Fire
A high-pitched scream jolted Holly awake.
She sat up in a panic. Above her head, a flock of black birds had startled out of the treetop and wheeled above her, screeching. Holly sighed; for a moment she’d thought it might be Fleetwing. Jade had said he healed fast. Peering into the canopy, she caught a glint of something else—a burst of flame, she thought. It had frightened the birds. But it was gone now, like the grass fire she’d seen yesterday. Whatever it was, it hadn’t hurt her. She didn’t mention it to the others.
The group ate a quick breakfast of bread and jam, along with some berries Ranulf had gathered in the forest. Holly didn’t feel much like talking as they resumed their journey. Her back was sore from sleeping on the hard ground, and her feet ached from all the walking they had done the day before. She fetched two Band-Aids from her backpack to cover a blister on her left heel. Almaric was intensely interested in the Band-Aids, and asked if he couldn’t have one to add to his collection, or were they very dear where she came from?
The Key & the Flame Page 20
