“You two know school’s startin’ up again today?” Ana queried as they ate, oblivious to what Jaymin was thinking. Doubtless she was looking forward to not having to provide their midday meal anymore.
“Yes, we know,” Jaymin replied between bites. Part of him couldn’t help wishing that this had happened fifteen years ago, before children in Alasia had had to go to school. It had been one of his father’s greatest achievements as king: to provide – and require – free education for everyone between the ages of six and sixteen, except for those whose families chose to have them study a trade as an apprentice. Jaymin didn’t question that it was important to have Alasian children well educated. He just wasn’t looking forward to going to school himself, where he would have to hide his identity and try to be like everyone else while pretending not to know most of the things he had learned.
“An’ you know where it is?” Ana demanded around a mouthful of porridge. “Hilltop School, I think it be called, up on top o’ the hill in the middle of town.”
“Yes, we’ve seen it.” Jaymin and Erik had spent much of their time in the last twelve days exploring Drall. They hadn’t had much else to do, and they knew that learning their way around the town would be useful.
At least that’s one good thing about school, Jaymin reminded himself. It will give us something to do besides wander around town.
The attempt to cheer himself up didn’t really work. Jaymin sighed gloomily, scraping the last bite of porridge from his bowl. “Yes, we’re all ready for school.”
Half an hour later, Jaymin stood beside Erik before the open gates of Hilltop School, reluctant to enter the new life that would begin when he stepped inside. I’ll have to become a completely different person the moment I go through these gates, Jaymin thought morosely, watching boys and girls of all ages stream in around them.
In a way, of course, he had been a different person ever since he had fled the palace, donned his disguise, and moved into a hovel in the poorest part of an unimportant town. But somehow this seemed different. Now he would have to give up even his name, telling everyone he was Jay, the name Sir Edmend had made up for Ana’s benefit.
It’s absolutely necessary, Jaymin told himself firmly, trying to picture himself as just another one of the ordinary children laughing and chattering as they hurried into the schoolyard. I have to be just like them. But he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of lying to people, and wasn’t at all sure he could do it convincingly anyway. Besides, Jaymin had been his father’s name, and his grandfather’s and great-grandfather’s before him, and changing that name seemed like a denial of his heritage as well as of himself. And the idea of being anyone but the prince of Alasia made him feel lost. I know there’s more to who I am than that, he told himself, but at the moment he couldn’t think what. Well, perhaps it was time he found out.
“We might as well go in,” Erik murmured from beside him, his alert gaze taking in everyone who passed by. Jaymin knew he was probably memorizing the snatches of overheard conversation as well as the children’s faces and who was talking to whom. Erik never missed anything that happened around him. Though he had planned to act the part of a shy, stammering little boy, Erik could never stop being who he was, Jaymin thought. Although his lean, muscled figure was hidden under his baggy clothes, his serious dark eyes were just a little too observant. The very way he moved and stood showed he was ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice. Let’s hope I look less like a prince than he does like a bodyguard, or we’re both in trouble.
Squaring his shoulders, Jaymin led the way forward past a large wooden sign beside the gatepost. In paint peeling so badly it could hardly be read, the sign announced, “HILLTOP SCHOOL”. As they passed through the gates, Jaymin made a mental note to see it received a new coat of paint as soon as he was in a position to order such things.
Inside, several low brick buildings stood around a muddy field where ragged children ran about shouting and playing. Some boys were kicking around a makeshift ball fashioned from a bundle of filthy rags that had been bunched up and tied tightly with twine. Two girls were swinging a rope while others jumped over it. Adults who must have been teachers stood here and there, watching the students and chatting with each other.
As Jaymin and Erik approached, a man appeared from a doorway and began to ring a bell. Immediately the children stopped their games, and everyone headed toward the buildings in a noisy, shoving throng. Not sure where to go, Jaymin followed some children who looked about his age, and Erik followed him. They crowded through a doorway and entered the dim interior of one of the buildings.
So this is what school is like, thought Jaymin, looking around curiously. He found an empty spot on a rough wooden bench at a long table, and sat down between Erik and another boy near the back of the crowded classroom. The room was cold, the walls were bare, and all his classmates – he counted twenty-one of them – looked dirty and hungry. The smell of unwashed bodies was almost overpowering in the confined space.
Jaymin watched the other students as they jockeyed for the seats they wanted and tried to find spots beside their friends. He wondered what they were like and how it would be to sit in this room every day with so many boys and girls his own age. But to his alarm, he suddenly realized that many of them were starting to look at him, too, and he hastily averted his gaze. Why were they staring? Was it just because he was new here and they didn’t know him? Or – a frightening thought – could it be that they did know who he was? Could they perhaps have recognized him as the Prince of Alasia, rags and all?
At that moment the teacher called the class to attention, and Jaymin was relieved when everyone turned to face her. Surely they wouldn’t have looked away so quickly if they suspected his true identity, he told himself, and began to relax a little.
Introducing herself as Miss Arrin, the teacher welcomed them all to Seventh Year at Hilltop School.
“From now on, things are going to be a little different,” she announced, and her voice sounded rueful. “We are going to be learning Malornian history instead of Alasian history. We will also be studying some writings by Malornian authors and poets.”
A surprised murmur ran through the class. “But – but why, Miss Arrin?” wondered a girl near the front.
The teacher looked frustrated. “It wasn’t my decision, Lina. Ever since the Invasion, the Malornians have been in charge here. They have some new laws for us now, and one of them is that teachers can only teach Malornian history and literature.”
A few of the students muttered their displeasure but quickly fell silent when the teacher raised a warning eyebrow. Jaymin stared at her in helpless disbelief at this unexpected development. This morning he had wished for more information about what was going on in Alasia, and now he had some, but this was not the kind of thing he wanted to hear. Alasians can’t even be taught the history of our own land anymore?
His reflections were cut short by Erik’s elbow in his ribs. He jumped, looking up in time to see the teacher hand them each a slate and a stylus. At least, that must be what they were, he thought, picking up the dark flat object and examining its chipped edges and scratched surface. The pen-shaped implement with a sharp tip he knew must be for scratching answers into the slate. Jaymin had never actually used such things before, always having had parchment and ink available for his studies in the palace.
Miss Arrin had returned to the front of the room, and now began writing numbers with a stick of charcoal on a white-painted board. “I want to see what level each of you is at in mathematics,” she explained as she wrote. “Answer the problems on your slate, and don’t worry if there are some you’re not sure about. Just do your best.”
Jaymin had to stifle a surprised laugh. The hardest of the problems she was writing were the kind he and Erik had learned to do three years ago in the palace. Erik shot him an amused grin as he began to copy the problems down onto his slate, purposely exchanging his usual neat printing for a sloppy scrawl. Jaymin did the same, and
started scratching in random numbers for the answers.
This was going to be an interesting year. Of course, they wouldn’t be here for very much of it.
He hoped.
Finally, someone outside rang a bell again, and Miss Arrin announced that it was time for the morning break. All the students handed their slates to her and lined up by the door, but as the others were filing out, she motioned for Jaymin and Erik to stay behind. They exchanged an anxious glance behind her back. What could she want? She can’t possibly have recognized me, Jaymin tried to reassure himself. He knew his face was grubby, his unkempt hair – normally light brown – was dark with dirt, and his clothes were faded and tattered. He looked like anything but a prince … didn’t he?
Miss Arrin sat down behind her narrow table as the boys stood before her. “You two must be new to Hilltop School; I don’t remember seeing you around last year. What are your names?” she inquired, taking a sheet of parchment from a shelf.
Erik shuffled his feet and glanced at Jaymin, making it clear that he was playing his shy role and his friend would have to speak for both of them. Jaymin swallowed hard, telling himself sternly that it had to be done, and forced himself to look the teacher in the eye. “I’m Jay. This is Erik,” he replied steadily, and immediately felt a surge of guilt for the outright lie. His parents would have been ashamed of him.
No, they wouldn’t, he contradicted himself firmly, hoping his feelings didn’t show. I had to do it. They would have understood.
“How old are you?”
“We’re both twelve.” That one was easier to answer, although actually neither of them was sure exactly how old Erik was. He had come to live in the palace eight years ago, after Talanthus, the master-at-arms, had seen him successfully defending himself against three older boys who were trying to bully him. The man had been astonished that such a small child could fight so well, and had come up with the idea of training him to be a bodyguard or companion-at-arms for the prince. Little Erik, who did not remember his parents and only knew that he lived on the street and ate whatever he could find, was quite happy with the arrangement, as well as he understood it at the time. He and the young Prince Jaymin had become close friends, and though Erik had always been smaller in stature, people sometimes remarked that he acted older than he looked. But it was just easier, they had both decided long ago, to assume that they were the same age.
The teacher glanced up at Jaymin. “You’re tall for twelve, aren’t you?”
He shrugged, trying not to smile at the irony of her doubting his age. “I inherited my height from my father,” he replied truthfully.
Miss Arrin looked carefully at her sheet of parchment, on which she seemed to have a list of names. “Hmm, that’s interesting. I don’t have either of you on here.” She regarded them thoughtfully, and Jaymin wondered if it was his imagination or if she really looked a little longer and more intently at him. “So you’re new to our school. Did you just move to the area recently?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you go to school before this?”
“In Almar,” Jaymin answered vaguely, hoping she wouldn’t ask for the name of the school.
“Oh?” Miss Arrin raised her eyebrows. “Was that before the Invasion?”
“Yes.”
She waited for more information, so Jaymin reluctantly went on with the story he had rehearsed. “My parents worked in the king’s palace. They were killed on the night of the Invasion.” In spite of himself, his throat grew tight. He swallowed hard.
Miss Arrin regarded him with compassion in her eyes. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I’m glad you survived, though. So, with whom are you living now?”
“With … with a woman named Ana,” Jaymin replied, his mind suddenly blanking as he realized he didn’t know what else to say about her.
The teacher frowned, puzzled. “A woman? A friend of your family’s, perhaps?”
Out of sight, Jaymin gave Erik’s ankle a desperate kick; and Erik, who had no qualms about lying at a time like this, came smoothly to the rescue.
“Sh-she’s our aunt,” he explained, glancing up shyly from where he had been staring at the floor.
“Really?” Miss Arrin turned to Erik. “So are you two brothers, or cousins? You don’t look at all alike.”
Erik twisted his hands together awkwardly and stammered, “C-cousins,” his gaze once more fastened on his feet.
“I see. Your parents were killed as well, then?” the teacher inquired sympathetically.
“N-no. I d-don’t have any,” Erik mumbled, not looking at her. “I-I’ve always lived with Jay and his parents.”
If Miss Arrin was curious about this, she didn’t show it. “Well, welcome to Hilltop School,” she said to both of them, and wrote something on her parchment. “I’m truly sorry to hear about your parents,” she told Jaymin gently, “and your aunt and uncle” (glancing at Erik) “but you both must be proud of them for sacrificing their lives for Alasia.” Jaymin nodded, not trusting himself to speak or meet her eyes. He could feel Erik’s sympathetic gaze on him. “Well, I have all the information on you that I need for now,” Miss Arrin concluded finally, putting down her quill. “Thank you for your time, Jay and Erik. You may go on out and play.” Relieved, the boys hurried for the door, though Jaymin was sure he could feel her eyes on his back until he was out of the room.
Outside, they wandered idly around the windy schoolyard, watching the students run and shout at their games. It all seemed rather silly, Jaymin thought.
“They’re acting so childish,” he remarked presently, watching two boys leap onto a third who had the makeshift ball, and begin struggling and pummeling each other in their attempts to grab it from him.
Erik snorted. “Of course they’re acting childish. What do you expect? They’re children!”
“But some of them are our age or even older.”
“And we would most likely be doing the exact same things if we had lived here all our lives. Growing up where we did with the education we’ve had is what makes us different. They’re the normal ones.”
Jaymin couldn’t help chuckling. “I suppose you’re right. This will be a good experience for us: seeing firsthand how ordinary children act. I’m going to treat it as a valuable part of my education.” It was Erik’s turn to chuckle.
Back in their classroom again, the children listened as Miss Arrin read the students a Malornian folktale. The story was interesting enough, but it bothered Jaymin that they should have to hear the tales of another land instead of their own. Afterward, he sat in gloomy disapproval while the students around him raised their hands to answer questions or offer comments about the story’s characters and their actions.
Next on the agenda was a writing assignment. The teacher explained that she wanted each of them to write a description of an ordinary day in their life so she could have a look at their writing abilities as well as at what their lives were like.
An ordinary day, Jaymin thought, rubbing his thumb along the edge of the slate that had just been returned to him. I haven’t had an ordinary day in almost two weeks. His mind drifted back to the last ordinary day he had experienced before his world turned upside-down. The day he had relived so many times since then, wishing he could go back to it and stay there. The day before the Invasion.
Chapter 3
Jaymin awoke before dawn, as he normally did, when a servant came in to relight the fire in his bedroom fireplace. He and Erik hurried to get dressed beside the hearth and then headed downstairs and out into the courtyard beside the stable. Talanthus was waiting for them, and led the boys through a series of stretches and vigorous exercises. In spite of the cold, Jaymin was soon sweating, and he peeled off his jacket and tossed it to one of the servants in between the sit-ups and the chin-ups from the stable doorframe.
A groom had saddled horses for them, and Talanthus handed Jaymin and Erik each a shield and a dull practice sword and drilled them on mounted swordplay. Again and again he called ou
t the various attack and defensive positions, and Jaymin wheeled his horse around again and again to strike at Erik from different angles or dodge his blows.
After forty-five minutes, of this, Talanthus brought the training to a halt and bid the prince good day. Erik stayed to work on his wrestling holds, but Jaymin returned to his room for a quick bath and to change into more formal clothes. Then he met his parents in the little dining room off their suite, where the three of them breakfasted together. His mother inquired about his training and remarked proudly about the skills he was strengthening every day, and his father joked that soon Jaymin would be better with his sword than he was. Servants in uniform hovered about, refilling their cups and removing dirty plates as soon as they finished with them.
After breakfast, Jaymin joined his father in his meeting with the Council of Advisors. They met twice a week to discuss various issues affecting the kingdom, and the king liked his son to sit in on the meetings as often as possible.
Sir Edmend, who was always glad to see Jaymin, greeted him warmly at the door and pulled out a chair for him. The advisors sat at a rectangular table with the king at the head, and Jaymin took his seat at the other end, as he always did, with his bottle of ink and a clean sheet of parchment. As the men conferred about government issues, Jaymin jotted down notes, knowing his tutor would expect him to recount all the main points for discussion and analysis later.
When the meeting was over, Jaymin mounted the stairs that led to the palace library for his geography lesson. Halfway up, Erik surprised him by springing out from behind a curtain and tackling him on the landing. Dropping his parchment, Jaymin landed flat on his back on the rug.
“Aren’t you supposed to be defending me, not attacking me?” he panted, laughing, as he struggled to get Erik off of him before his friend had him pinned down.
Prince of Alasia (Annals of Alasia Book 1) Page 3
