Pierce, Tamora - Protector 03 by Pierce Tamora

Author:Pierce, Tamora [Pierce, Tamora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-08-15T16:19:38+00:00

"They sound like sensible people. Do they hold banquets?" Raoul asked wistfully.

"Better," Kel told him. "They have parties where they view the moon in reflecting ponds, or fireflies in lanterns, or patterns of cherry tree blossoms against the sky, and they make up poetry about it."

Raoul shuddered and changed the subject.

The tournament, held just before Kel's sixteenth birthday, was educational. It was also the first time Kel squired for Raoul in the traditional way. Since Raoul was scheduled to joust in the afternoon, she had all morning to inspect, clean, and polish his armor and that of his warhorse, black Drum. The metal pieces were clean - she had scoured them at the palace - but an extra rub of the polishing cloth never hurt. She also checked each of his weapons: an assortment of lances, should one break, his sword, and his mace. He shouldn't need the last two - these were exhibitions, not true combat - but Kel wanted everything ready, just in case. She shook out Drum's saddle blanket and went over his tack, polishing and testing each join and stitch. Lord Wyldon had pounded it into the pages' heads: equipment not in perfect condition was a danger to the one who used it. Kel took his words to heart.

Raoul came to the tent after a light midday meal and changed clothes behind a screen. Wearing breeches, hose, and a loose white shirt, he walked to the center of the room. As he pulled on his quilted gambeson, Kel fit and buckled the leg plates of his armor. Piece by piece they went, Kel snugging the leather straps comfortably, checking the fit of each plate with him before they went on to the next.

"If it were Jerel alone, I'd stick to the padded stuff, not all this clank," Raoul said as he raised his arms for the breastplate.

"He knows exhibition rules. But Myles says a couple of charmers from Tusaine are threatening to give me a try. And one of the conservatives has put it about that he'll bash my head in because I, oh, what was that phrase? Encouraged your pretensions, that's it."

"Then I should fight him, sir" Kel tightened a buckle.

"Nonsense. I'll ram some manners into him and tell the king I can't attend the banquet because I pulled a muscle." When Kel didn't reply, Raoul gripped her shoulder and waited until she met his eyes. "Please don't deny me my fun," he said with a smile. "Conservatives haven't found the, er, courage to joust against me in years. Now they'll come out of the woodwork.

They think the gods will withdraw their favor from me because I picked you. Haven't you ever noticed that people who win say it's because the gods know they are in the right, but if they lose, it wasn't the gods who declared them wrong? Their opponent cheated, or their equipment was bad."

Kel grinned. She had heard something like that.

"And the money I win from them in penalties will buy armor for you.

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