‘I wouldn’t mind winning one of those prizes myself. What about you, Tommy?’
Tommy spun around at the sound of Sir Benedict’s voice. The knight was standing in the doorway.
‘Yes, sir,’ she agreed. ‘They sound great.’
‘You’ll need to practise a lot,’ the knight warned. ‘Especially in the archery.’
‘But, Sir Benedict, the archery contest is only for knights and squires,’ Tommy said.
‘Knights and squires … and keepers,’ the knight told her. ‘Sir Walter has decided that the Keeper of the Blades and the Keeper of the Bows will be allowed to compete against the squires.’
‘Sir Walter said that?’ Tommy felt hope rising in her chest.
‘Actually,’ Sir Benedict said with a smile, ‘I suspect it was Lady Beatrix’s idea. She’s rather fond of the castle’s sword girl.’
Tommy flushed with pleasure. It was true Lady Beatrix had always been kind to her; she said it was because Tommy never bored her. ‘I won’t let her down,’ Tommy promised.
‘This means you’ll be entered in three contests,’ Sir Benedict explained. ‘Archery, a sword fight and a horse race that goes through Skellibones Forest … ’ He trailed off. ‘What’s the matter, Tommy? You look disappointed.’
‘No, sir,’ said Tommy quickly. ‘I’m very grateful. It’s just that I was looking forward to the sack race.’
The knight chuckled. ‘You can still enter the sack race, Tommy. Everyone enters the sack race. So, shall I tell Sir Walter to enter your name in the competition with the squires?’
‘Yes please,’ said Tommy. Then, remembering the pigeon and the closed curtains, Tommy asked, ‘Is Sir Walter all right, sir? The pigeon said his curtains have been drawn.’
‘Sir Walter is in excellent health,’ Sir Benedict replied. ‘You can tell the pigeon there’s no need to worry.’
‘Thank you, sir, I will,’ Tommy said. ‘And I’ll start practising for the games this afternoon.’
Not long after Sir Benedict had left the sword chamber, the black and white cat strolled in.
‘Lil, did you hear? I’m going to be in the competition with the squires!’ Tommy exclaimed.
‘Sir Benedict told me,’ the cat said. ‘It means you’ll be in three different contests, is that right?’
‘Yes, there’ll be a sword-fighting contest – I’ll need a sword for that …’ Tommy turned to the small rack in the corner. ‘Jasper, may I carry you for the contest?’
‘Of course,’ said the sword. ‘I’d be honoured.’
‘And there’s a horse race,’ Tommy continued. ‘I’m sure Sir Benedict will let me borrow Bess.’ Tommy had ridden the knight’s chestnut mare many times, and they were good friends now. ‘The only problem is the archery contest. I’ve never done archery before. And where will I get a bow and arrows from?’ She looked at the cat in despair.
Lil raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to go where all the castle’s bows are kept,’ she said.
Tommy sighed. ‘The bow chamber. I’ll have to ask Reynard.’
CHAPTER 5
AFTER A LONG DAY of polishing and sharpening, with only a quick break to eat the bread and cheese Mrs Moon had given her for her lunch, Tommy left the sword chamber and went to stand in the doorway of Reynard’s room.
The Keeper of the Bows was holding a bow in his outstretched arm. Although there was no arrow fixed in place, he pulled back the string and squinted as if he was aiming at a target.
‘Excuse me,’ Tommy said.
Abruptly Reynard dropped the bow, which clattered against the stone floor.
‘Why are you spying on me?’ he demanded when he saw Tommy. He had hated her ever since she had been made the Keeper of the Blades instead of him.
‘I wasn’t,’ Tommy said. ‘I just came to ask if I could borrow a bow and some arrows for the contest.’
‘Why would I want to help you?’ the red-haired boy sneered. ‘It’s not like you have a chance of winning – I bet you’ve never even used a bow and arrow before.’
Reynard was right, though Tommy wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of hearing her admit it.
‘Then what would it hurt to lend them to me?’ she asked. ‘Unless you’re afraid I’ll beat you …’
‘You think I’m afraid? Of you?’ Reynard sounded outraged. ‘That’s ridiculous.’ He gestured to where the bows were hung on wooden racks fixed to the wall. ‘Take one of those.’
Tommy walked over to the racks and ran her eyes over the bows before choosing the one she thought looked the smallest and lightest. Below the bows was a shelf that lined the wall. She took half a dozen arrows from the shelf and with a muttered ‘Thanks’ left the bow chamber.
Deciding it would be better to practise in private, Tommy took her bow and arrows through the castle gate, over the drawbridge and around to the back of the castle. Here was a patch of grass and shrubs that was usually deserted.
Carefully, she fitted the feathery back part of the arrow – called the fletch – to the string, held the bow straight out in front of her, and fixed her eyes on a shrub with red leaves on top. It looked rather like Reynard, she thought. She drew back the string, then released it. The arrow sailed over the top of the shrub.
Well, she couldn’t expect to hit her target on her first go, Tommy told herself as she fitted a second arrow to the string.
But though she tried and tried, the arrows went in every direction but the one she was aiming in. She was about to give up when she heard someone calling.
‘Hey, Sword Girl!’
Tommy turned to see a dark-haired boy walking towards her. As he came closer she saw it was Edward, the squire who had been the Keeper of the Blades before her. He was carrying a bow and he had a quiver full of arrows slung over his shoulder.
‘I wasn’t expecting to see anyone out here,’ he said. ‘This is where I come when I want to practise on my own.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Tommy. ‘I was just leaving.’ She started to gather her arrows.
‘That’s okay,’ said Edward. ‘There’s plenty of room for two. Sir Benedict told me that you’ll be entering the competition with the squires. I could give you a few archery tips if you want.’
Tommy blushed; Edward must have seen how hopeless she was. ‘I’d really like that,’ she said. ‘I’ve never even held a bow before today.’
‘I never had either before I was a squire,’ the boy confided. ‘Your name’s Tommy, isn’t it?’ When Tommy nodded, he lifted his bow in his hand. ‘Now the first thing to focus on, Tommy, is how you stand …’
By the time Edward left her an hour later, Tommy had hit the Reynard shrub three times in a row.
‘You catch on fast,’ Edward said as he headed back to the castle. ‘I’ll see you for the contest next week. Good luck!’
‘You too,’ said Tommy. ‘And thanks for your help.’
She continued to practise until the light began to fade, then hurried back to the drawbridge, which was raised at sundown.
As she crossed the great courtyard, she noticed the pigeon sitting on the same wall where she’d seen him that morning. ‘Hi, Pigeon,’ she said. ‘Have you had a busy day?’
The pigeon shook his head. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘I’ve been waiting here all day in case Sir Walter sent for me, but he hasn’t. I really think something must be wrong.’
‘Sir Benedict told me that Sir Walter is in excellent health,’ Tommy said.
The pigeon looked surprised. ‘I wonder why he hasn’t sent for me, then,’ he said.
‘Maybe he’ll send for you tonight,’ Tommy suggested as she turned towards the kitchen. ‘Goodnight, Pigeon.’
CHAPTER 6
OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS, Tommy learned more about the contests she’d be competing in. The sword-fighting contest would be held on the first day of the games, followed by the horse race on the second day. The course would take them across the fields and through Skellibones Forest before returning to the finish l
ine in the great courtyard. Tommy shuddered at the thought of riding through the dark, creepy forest where bandits sometimes lurked, but reminded herself that she would be with Bess, and there would be dozens of other horses and riders alongside them. The archery contest would be on the final day of the games.
Every afternoon, after she’d finished her work in the sword chamber, Tommy would practise for the games. First she would take Bess out for a gallop, flying across the fields so fast that the grass and shrubs became a blur. After she had returned Bess to the stables, she would take Jasper Swann to a corner of the great courtyard to practise her sword fighting. Finally, she would head out to the patch of grass behind the castle with her bow and arrow, and fire arrows into the shrubbery.
It was as she was crossing the great courtyard after one of these practice sessions that she saw Lil coming out of the great hall.
‘Hi, Lil,’ she said. ‘What were you doing in there?’
‘I was looking at the prizes,’ the cat said. ‘Sir Walter has put them on display. Come on – I’ll show you.’
Tommy followed Lil down the long passageway and into the great hall. She paused for a moment in the doorway; she always felt a little nervous about entering the hall that was used for the castle’s most important occasions. The room was huge, with a high vaulted ceiling from which banners decorated with the crest of Flamant Castle were hung. Light streamed through windows carved in the shape of roses.
‘There,’ said Lil, raising a paw.
Tommy gasped. On a small table halfway down one side of the hall, bathed in the golden light of the sun’s dying rays, stood two swords – two magnificent swords.
She moved forward for a closer look. The larger sword must be for the winner of the knights’ contest, she guessed, while the smaller one would go to the victorious squire. The swords’ blades, each one engraved with a flamingo, were a dazzling silver. Other than Sir Walter’s own rubystudded sword, Tommy had never seen more beautiful weapons.
‘Now those are prizes worth winning,’ Lil remarked. ‘Sir Walter has been very generous.’
‘Yes,’ Tommy breathed, her eyes fixed on the gleaming swords.
The image of the prize swords stayed in her mind as she walked along the passageway back to the great courtyard and then made her way to the kitchen for dinner. She barely tasted the soup Mrs Moon had made, and didn’t even notice when the cook managed to run three times around the kitchen without once dropping the egg from her spoon.
Until now she had just been concerned not to disappoint Lady Beatrix and Sir Benedict with a poor performance in the games, but for the first time she began to dream that she might win the silver sword. After all, Sir Benedict, who was the castle’s finest sword fighter, said that Tommy was very skilled. And Bess had told Tommy that she was a natural horse rider. Really, the only problem was archery, but she was getting better all the time. All she needed was practice …
Tommy had just taken aim at a darkleaved shrub one afternoon when suddenly it squawked, ‘Hey! Watch where you’re pointing that thing.’
‘What?’ Tommy stared at the talking shrub in shock.
There was a rustling of leaves followed by a flapping of feathers and the pigeon rose into the air.
‘Oh, it’s you, Pigeon. Sorry, I didn’t see you.’ Tommy lowered the bow. ‘What are you doing out here? Are you taking a break?’
‘A break from what?’ said the pigeon gloomily. ‘Sir Walter hasn’t summoned me in days, not for messages or lullabies. I’m just hiding from the physician. He needs some of my droppings for one of his cures.’ The pigeon sighed heavily. ‘Maybe I should just give them to him. If Sir Walter doesn’t need me anymore, perhaps droppings is all I’m good for.’
Tommy walked back to the castle with the pigeon flying at her side. ‘I’ll bet Sir Walter is so busy planning for the games tomorrow that he’s falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow,’ she said to the bird. ‘He probably doesn’t need a lullaby to help him sleep.’
But the pigeon didn’t seem to find her words very comforting. ‘Then it’s like I thought,’ he said sadly. ‘Sir Walter doesn’t need me anymore.’
CHAPTER 7
TOMMY WOKE THE NEXT morning with butterflies in her tummy. Today was the first day of the games! Outside her window, instead of the usual sounds of the castle coming to life – like the clattering of cart wheels over flagstones as the merchants delivered their goods to the kitchen – she could hear merry shrieks and squeals.
Tommy jumped out of bed, pulled on her leggings and tunic, and skipped down to the kitchen. After a breakfast of bread and milk, she stepped out into the great courtyard.
The first thing she heard was a loud ‘Ouch!’ followed by gales of laughter. Two pairs of chambermaids, their legs tied together with strips of cloth, were running three-legged – at least, they were trying to run, but they seemed to be tripping a lot, which resulted in much giggling.
‘Watch out!’ A serving girl from the kitchen dashed past, a spoon held out in front of her on which she balanced a wobbling egg. She must be practising to beat Mrs Moon, Tommy thought.
She was so distracted by the activity in the courtyard that she almost tripped over a large grey stone before realising the stone had feathers. It was the pigeon.
‘Pigeon, be careful!’ Tommy exclaimed. ‘You shouldn’t sit in the middle of the courtyard like that. You might get hurt.’
‘What do I care if I get hurt?’ the pigeon whimpered. ‘No one else would mind.’
‘How can you say that?’ Tommy protested. ‘Of course we’d mind. Who would carry the castle’s messages if we didn’t have you? Who would help the physician make his cures? And besides, you’re our friend.’
‘What do a hundred friends matter when I’ve lost my best friend?’ the pigeon wailed. ‘I went to Sir Walter’s window again last night and this time there was a gap in the curtains. So I peered in, and what do you think I saw? Sir Walter has a falcon chick in his bed chamber!’
‘A falcon chick in his bed chamber?’ Tommy echoed, puzzled. ‘Are you sure? Maybe you imagined it.’
‘I saw it with my own eyes. It was sleeping on a little stand beside Sir Walter’s bed. The same place where I slept when I was a chick! That’s why he doesn’t need me anymore. He has a new bird!’ The pigeon began to sob.
‘Pigeon … Tommy began, but the pigeon interrupted her.
‘It seems I’m no longer needed at Flamant Castle,’ he choked out. As Tommy watched he flapped his wings and rose into the sky, higher and higher until he had disappeared from view.
Suddenly she was jostled from behind.
‘Get out of my way, Sword Girl.’ It was Reynard, and he was carrying a sword. ‘The squires’ sword-fighting contest starts soon,’ he said. ‘Or have you chickened out?’
‘Of course I haven’t,’ Tommy snapped. ‘I’m just going to get my sword now.’
‘Your sword? You mean one of the Old Wrecks? Ha! Everyone knows you can’t win with one of those old losers.’
Tommy gritted her teeth. How dare he speak about Jasper like that? She’d show him, she vowed, and hurried off to fetch Jasper Swann.
For once the armoury was quiet when Tommy entered. The fire in the forge was low and Smith was nowhere to be seen. But the silence was broken when she stepped into the narrow sword chamber.
‘Jasper Swann and our sword girl fighting together in a competition!’ Nursie cried. ‘Did you ever think you’d see the day, Bevan Brumm?’
‘No, Nursie,’ boomed the dagger. ‘I must admit that I would have judged such a circumstance most unlikely.’
‘Well you would have been wrong,’ Nursie crowed. ‘I thought it most likely indeed. You thought having a girl as Keeper of the Blades was a silly idea, but I knew better. You mark my words, Bevan Brumm: one day our sword girl is going to be a knight as brave and good as Sir Benedict himself.’
‘That brave and good, eh?’
Tommy turned to see Sir Benedict in the doorway. He looke
d amused.
‘Are you ready, Tommy? What about you, Jasper?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Tommy replied, and Jasper added, ‘I can’t wait, sir.’
Hearing the excitement in his voice, Tommy felt a twinge of sadness for Jasper, who had died of an illness before he’d had the chance to fight a single battle. He’d be doing lots of fighting today though, she thought, as she pulled the sword from the rack and followed Sir Benedict.
Jonglers Field was crowded with spectators. The squires were to fight in the morning, while the knights would be jousting in the afternoon. In between, there would be the three-legged race and feats of strength.
Tommy cheered as Edward beat Reynard, who was slow and clumsy on his feet, in the first round. She was a bit disappointed that it meant she wouldn’t be fighting Reynard herself, though. She would have enjoyed teaching him a lesson.
Then it was Tommy’s turn to fight. Her opponent handled his sword well, but Jasper was light and quick and seemed almost to guess what Tommy was going to do the moment before she did it.
‘We make a good team, Tommy,’ he said as they won bout after bout.
Tommy tightened her hand on the narrow grip. ‘One more bout to go,’ she told him.
Her final opponent was Edward who, like Tommy, had won every bout he fought. Tommy realised at once that he was a far finer sword fighter than the other squires. He blocked Tommy’s every thrust, and it was only by concentrating fiercely that she managed to fend off his attacks. The fight went on and on, their blades clashing again and again. Finally, just as her strength was beginning to fail her, Tommy struck the sword from Edward’s hand with a mighty blow.
Pigeon Problems Page 2
