“Well, my family is pretty lowly ranked away from the baron who controls the area,” she said. “There were commoners in my town that were wealthier than us. I did not have the advantage of proper schooling. My vocabulary is much like yours.”
Lora nodded. “It appears that our backgrounds are nearly the same.” She took a deep breath and let it out in relief. “I thank you for your services. When can I return to my swordplay courses?”
“At least a sevenday,” she explained. She waived off Lora’s protests. “Remember, it’s not fully healed. We just help it on its way. I will see you back here then to check your progress—as well as my student’s.”
She thought she was fortunate to have broken her left hand. At least she could still write and complete her general assignments. Lora trudged back to the dormitory and began changing for dinner. Her wrist and hand ached terribly, but she managed. She was about halfway finished when Catty and Genea came bursting in.
“Why Lora of Haven Dale!” Catty exclaimed. “I didn’t know you had it in you. Such language!” She collapsed on her bed and howled with laughter.
“Master Ian, well, everyone said he turned purple when you were shouting,” Genea told her as she helped button up Lora’s gown. “I’m not sure if it was because he was angry you were swearing or because he was shocked at what you were saying. Or both. I must say, I don’t even know what half of what they’re saying you said means.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” a voice from over by the door rang out. Sylvane waltzed into their dorm and flounced on her bed. “No one in polite society, especially a lady, would utter such vulgarity,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you got extra duties for it.”
Lora paled and then straightened up. There was something about the smug look on Sylvane’s face that really got her goat. “Well, princess, there’s a lot more where that came from,” she said. “Shall I continue?”
Sylvane’s mouth formed a perfect O. Her hands covered her face, she squeaked, and she ran from the room.
“I’ve been wanting to get her to run away from us for a long time,” Catty remarked once she got ahold of herself. “I didn’t know it would be so easy as offending her with my uncouth vocabulary. Really, Lora, you’ve been holding back all this time. How do you know such marvelous words and phrases?”
“Well,” Lora began. She knew she was in trouble. She thought for a moment before responding. She was treading a fine line between the truth and artifice. “I lived in a small village. I went to the same school as the commoners in Haven Dale. I spent time with them. Evidently I picked up their bad habits and… colorful vocabulary.”
Genea smiled. “That makes sense. That or perhaps you spent too much time on board ship, but I know you haven’t done that,” she teased. “The second best part about this, other than Sylvane’s reaction just now, was the boys’. Peter said he about fell off his horse too. I’m sure Regan and Louis will have heard by now. Gods, I bet the whole Academy has heard!”
Lora groaned and hid her face in her hands. “I wish there was a way for dinner to come to me in here until this blows over.”
“You’ll be waiting a long time for that,” Catty told her.
A few hours later in Lord Ian’s chambers, a group of teachers gathered. “Did she really?” Lord Cedric asked. “She’s such a little thing. Her manners are a little coarse, but I can hardly believe it.”
Lord Ian nodded. “I can hardly believe it myself. I’m not sure what to do about it either. Breaking her wrist is punishment enough for being distracted. But, I’m vacillating on her language. Part of me thinks it’s hilarious. The other half knows that a young lady should never utter such uncouth words.”
Master Franklin held up his finger. “If I may interrupt,” he interjected. “As the sole representative here who is responsible for teaching etiquette, I believe my opinion to be quite relevant.” He cleared his throat. “Her exclamation upon breaking her arm is quite expected. It’s the nature of it that’s in question. What, may I ask, would you have had her say instead? ‘Oh drat?’ As refined as I believe myself to be, I know I would have said something similar.”
“Not like this,” Lord Ian muttered.
CHAPTER 17
The Incident of the Oaths, as it came to be called, was the talk of the Academy for the next sevenday. Lora had no further mishaps. She learned her lessons. Her marks were on her mind, but she pushed them to the side when she was in class. At the end of her sevenday of no swordsplay, the literature essays were handed back to them. Lora was delighted to see average marks, especially when Catty and Genea received similar. No one could have been happier to be average.
Lora’s happiness was short lived that day. When she was changing after weapons, she noticed some blood. She knew what it was, but she panicked all the same. “Catty!” she called.
“What?” she replied. “Hurry up and get dressed or we won’t have time to eat, and I’m starving!”
“I need your help,” she said. Lora took a deep breath and placed her hand on the wall of the privy they all shared. “I have my courses. I need my things, and… I need help using them. I don’t know how.”
There was a pause. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”
Catty was true to her word and returned in a matter of moments. Lora let her into the small cubicle and to Lora’s mortification, insisted on showing her exactly how to use her special undergarments instead of telling her like she would have preferred. “Didn’t your mother tell you about these things?”
Lora shook her head. “No, she died when I was five, and Lady Tiana only insisted these be included with my new gowns. She didn’t say anything about how they were to be used.” She looked down at her hands. “Thank you for helping me, Catty.”
“What are friends for?” she said with a shrug. “You’re one of us now,” she swooned and laughed. “Womanhood. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” She paused. “Did anyone tell you about… You know. How babies come about.”
“Yes,” she replied. “Some of them women in the village made mention of it,” Lora’s face turned crimson. “Lady Tiana said something too. Just ‘relations are for the marriage bed,’ and that if I don’t follow that, this whole endeavor would be a waste of Cousin Allistair’s time and money if I got a bastard in my belly.”
Catty wiggled her eyebrows, her grin widening. “That’s no fun,” she said. “There are pregnancy charms and potions for preventing that from happening, you know.”
Lora frowned. “I haven’t even kissed a boy,” she said. “I’m not interested and neither are they.”
“Oh, but kissing is so much fun,” Catty exclaimed. “It wouldn’t take much more to go beyond that.” She shrugged. “I like kissing.”
“Who? I thought you would’ve told me about something like this!”
“I can’t kiss and tell, but you do know one of them. The rest are down in Arbor Cove.”
She was aghast. “There’s been more than one?”
Catty smiled coyly. “As well there should be,” she replied. “You can’t very well marry some stodgy old dolt until you’ve lived a little now, can you?”
“I can’t,” Lora said. “I’m a poor choice for any marriage made here. Or anywhere. Relations, and kissing I guess, would only lower me further.”
“Lora, you talk like kissing and a roll in the hay are things you can decide to say no to far in advance,” Catty said. “Your emotions and your heart aren’t so black and white.” She paused. “You really don’t like anyone?”
“It would be a waste of my time,” Lora replied. “So no. I won’t look at anyone like that. When I’m done here, I’ll do my duty to the kingdom, go back to my village, or one like it, and marry someone there.”
Catty tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Peter likes you,” she said. “I bet he’d kiss you.”
“That’s ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.” Lora crossed her arms in front of her chest and began to walk out. “Even if it wasn’t, I don’t like hi
m. So please stop.”
“You’re no fun, Lora!” Catty called. She giggled and ran after her friend. They were late for dinner, and the boys would be cross for making them wait.
Lora spent most of the rest of autumn term staring at Peter trying to decide if he liked her. He never seemed to be watching her while she watched him, so she doubted it. Unless he was watching her while she was looking away. How would she know he was watching her if she was looking away? These thoughts plagued her mind day in and day out. And Catty teased her relentlessly about it. Lora wasn’t sure why. She didn’t like Peter like that. He was a friend. He’d broken her nose twice. She just wanted to know if her friend’s assumptions were true, and she got nowhere closer to knowing the answer.
CHAPTER 18
A tournament was announced for a couple of sevendays after the equinox. The entire Academy, including the teachers, was abuzz in anticipation. The first and second year students all lamented that they couldn’t attend, and it was all the older students could talk about. Everyone was going.
“Regan, swordwielders can’t participate, can they?” Peter was asking.
The prince shook his head, sending his blond hair flying. “Not in the general events. There’s too great a risk of cheating, even accidentally. If the tournament is big enough, sometimes there will be an event or two just for them. But this tournament is pretty small as far as they go. The one in the summer is bigger. So is the spring tournament in Azure Shores.”
“They haven’t published the lists, have they?” Catty asked as she twirled a lock of her dark brown hair around her finger.
“Not exactly,” Regan was saying. “But since the crown is the main patron, I know who’s going to be participating.”
Lora continued to eat her dinner. Haven Dale was too small for anything but the odd archery tournament. She had nothing meaningful to contribute to the conversation. And unlike everyone else, she wasn’t sure if she was even going. It cost three silvers to sit where her friends wanted to, and she had only saved four since the term had begun. The other would surely go to food and drink, and she had been hoping to get some small gift for Catty for midwinter.
“And?” Genea squealed. She hid her blush behind her curly black hair. Young ladies did not squeal.
Louis nudged Regan. “You can tell us. At least a couple of the big names.”
Regan rolled his eyes. “Fine. First of all, there’s going to be a display done by some of the wielders. That’ll be something different. I guess Lord Michael has something planned. Lord Jeremy will be doing something too. Phillip, Dain’s brother, will be in the mêlée. Lord Harrison is supposed to be jousting. Master Karl will be wrestling. There’s no one you’d know in the projectile competitions.” When Lora snapped out of her reverie, the prince smiled. “Yes, Lora. There’s an archery competition. Perhaps you could give them some pointers? I’ve heard you’re practically the best in the Academy.”
“I doubt that,” Lora said with a snort.
“You never give yourself any credit, Lora,” Catty chided. “It’s too bad you can’t do the competition since you’re a swordwielder. I bet your air talent would make your arrows soar straighter and farther than anyone else’s.”
Peter grinned. “She doesn’t even need that. She’s better than anyone in our class or the classes below us for sure. Like Regan said, probably the best at the Academy.”
Lora scowled. “It’s not like I can shoot an apple off anyone’s head. And I certainly wouldn’t try it.”
“In any case,” Regan cut in, “next rest day, we will get to see all of these dazzling feats and more at the tournament.”
Louis raised his eyebrow mischievously. “Do you think anyone will be maimed or killed?”
“That’s so morbid, Louis,” Genea told him. “No one hopes for that. At lease, I hope they don’t.”
“Of course they do,” Louis replied as he ran his hand through his thick red hair. “The blood and gore are half the point of going.”
In the end, Louis made Genea cry and Regan made him apologize. Lora wasn’t sure what to expect after that. She awaited the tourney with as much anticipation as anyone.
On the morning of the tournament, the girls awoke early so as not to miss any of the events. The jousts would last all day with the champion to be decided at sundown. The projectile competitions were to be held in the hours around noon. The mêlée would be mid-morning, and the wrestling matches in the afternoon. The wielder displays would also be going on for most of the day and into the evening. The group would be hard pressed to see everything they wanted to.
After much discussion, the girls decided they would wear their everyday dresses and not something fancier. There hadn’t been enough time to have a nicer day dress made for any of them, and eveningwear was out of the question on a dusty tourney field. They just imagined that they would be dressed as glamorously as the adult women in attendance.
“I’ve talked my mother and father out of forcing me to stay in their box with them, so I’ll be able to be with the group,” Regan was saying as they walked toward the tourney grounds, which Lora had unknowingly passed by on her journey into Glimmen. “I’ll have to break away for the final joust though.”
Catty made a face. “Sometimes I forget you’re the prince and you have all of these silly responsibilities,” she said. “I mean, I’m glad you fulfill them, but it doesn’t leave room for a lot of fun.”
“Uncle Gerald says there’s nothing fun about running a kingdom,” Genea put in. “It can be rewarding, but it’s almost never fun.”
When they reached their destination, they got a program and planned out their day. Lord Harrison wasn’t jousting until after the mêlée was supposed to be over, so they were excited that they would be able to see him as well as Dain’s brother. Most of the group wanted to see the wielder demonstrations over a leisurely lunch, but Lora obviously wanted to watch the archery. She said nothing while the group was making plans, and resolved to go on her own. They would watch Master Karl and finish out the day at the joust and more wielder demonstrations. The firewielders were going to show their skills after dark.
They headed over to the lists to watch the jousting for a while before the mêlée. Regan had secured them a box that they all pitched in to pay for. It was halfway between the royal box and the starting point for the combatants, so it had a good view of where the opponents would collide.
Jousting bored Lora as a general rule, but there was something about the jousting at the tourney. All the crashing and bashing and exploding of lances and the bright colors. She was hooked. Regan teased her unmercifully.
“Fine,” she said, waving him off. “It’s exciting and I’m enjoying watching it. That doesn’t mean that I have to like doing it myself. Or that I’ll enjoy the archery any less. Archery is so different. Quiet. The precision and the skill make it exciting in a different way.”
Regan laughed. “Then I’ll have to escort you when it’s time for the shooting of the arrows,” he told her. He flashed her a grin and pointed to where the current opponents were having it out with swords after they had failed to unseat each other after three passes. “And when the lances fail, it’s even better than the mêlée. “
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Louis shouted over the din. “Still better than arrows though. Sorry Lora.”
“Can’t win ‘em all!” Lora shouted back at him.
After one more pair of jousters had their turn, the group went to the stadium and found a spot to watch the mêlée from. The mêlée in this tourney would be fought on foot, as opposed to others which began on horseback. Catty spotted Dain’s brother, who wore their house colors and arms on his shield. Lora surprised herself by recognizing several sigils. Master Franklin’s classes were paying off, evidently.
Two groups of fighters gathered in loose formations on either side of the stadium. They stood poised and ready for action. A bugler sounded and the chaos began. The groups ran at each other, screaming and yelling and waving their
weapons. The sound when they crashed together was deafening. Even with blunted and lightened weapons, injuries seemed common. Blood littered the ground. Lora, who had never seen anything like this, began to feel sick. This is what my life will be? she thought.
After what seemed like hours, four fighters were left. Three from one group and one from the other. The three surrounded their opponent and attacked him all at once. Two fell to sword strokes that seemed faster than lightening. It was now one on one. The larger of the two feinted and charged in when the other parried. The larger man slipped and the smaller clipped his helmet sending him to the ground. The mêlée was over.
“Well, that was surprising,” Genea mused. “Lord Bertrand overcame three to one odds to pull it off in the end. Even with twenty years on Master Lorne.”
Lora took a deep breath and swallowed. That was the worst thing she had ever seen, and she knew it did not compare to the gore and violence of a real battle in war. She knew as a swordwielder that most of the time she would be away from the main fighting, but when she was in the thick of it, would she be able to do what was needed?
She rose and snuck away from her friends who were gesturing wildly and talking excitedly and animatedly about what they had just seen. Lora passed by some of the food vendors and balked when she saw what they were asking for even the simplest fare. It appeared she would be going hungry that day.
Easily finding the archery set up, she climbed up the small grandstand and found herself a seat that was unobtrusive and out of the way. There were one hundred archers in the competition and they would go in groups of ten starting at fifty paces. The distance between the arrows to the center of the targets would be carefully measured, and the top fifty archers would move on. The next distance would be seventy five paces and the twenty closest to the bull’s eye would move on. At one hundred paces, the ten best would move on to two hundred paces, and the winner would be chosen from there. If a tie occurred, the final archers would shoot at that distance until a winner was declared. Archers would use their own bows and arrows so that no one would have an advantage or disadvantage over using unfamiliar equipment.
Common (The Lora Fletcher Chronicles Book 1) Page 10
