First Test by Tamora Pierce

Author:Tamora Pierce
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780307433350
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2009-04-27T16:00:00+00:00

seven

KEL TAKES A STAND

For the next three days Kel pursued her classwork and physical training doggedly. When Sunday came at last, she and the other pages attended dawn worship for Mithros, the god of warriors and the sun. After that she gave her weapons and tack an extra cleaning for Lord Wyldon’s inspection just before lunch. When he finished going over every inch of a page’s equipment, he gave punishment assignments for the penalties collected during the week.

Kel had been late to one class, to one meal, and to the riding corral the day before, when Peachblossom had been grumpier than usual. For each of those tardy arrivals Lord Wyldon issued her work in the pages’ armory for one bell of time, consuming her entire afternoon. All of the other pages had punishment duty, too. Merric and Olin fared worse than Kel. They had to work all afternoon and for a bell on Sunday night.

"I’d like to find whoever taught the Stump that extra work builds character and push him down the stairs," Neal told Kel at lunch.

She smiled and returned to solving a puzzle. How was she to do her classwork for Monday if she was cleaning armor? At last she hit on a plan and bore her work to the armory. First, she rolled chain mail in barrels full of sand to scour away dirt, until she wearied. Then she attacked her assignments. At her first yawn Kel returned to cleaning. When the supper bell rang, she had scoured a large amount of mail and finished nearly all of her classwork. After an evening of staff practice with Neal, she knew she had used the day well, and went to bed content.

Monday came soon enough. By nightfall she was exhausted and wishing for another Sunday. Then Cleon, grinning hugely, caught her after supper and asked her to fetch some books from the Mithrans’ library, in a separate wing of the palace. She could see he was waiting for her to refuse so he could say she thought herself better than the other first-years. With a sigh, she trotted off to do as she was bid.

Tuesday was more of the same. Only her sparrows’ reaction to her arm-strengthening exercises—they lined up on her windowsill like spectators at a tournament—made Kel smile that day. At tilting practice later that morning she managed to hit Peachblossom’s head and the quintain dummy, but not the target shield. The laughter of pages and onlookers rang in her ears, but she kept her feelings hidden. By the time she rode Peachblossom back to the stable in the wake of the other pages, she wanted to crawl into a dark corner and die.

Kel was the last to finish grooming her mount and the last to finish looking after her tack. By the time she tended her weapons, the other pages had gone; she had to hurry if she was to bathe before lunch. Working in haste, she dropped her lance. It clattered across the stable floor, collecting dirt along its freshly oiled length.

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