Pierce, Tamora - Protector 02 by Page

Author:Page [Page]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-11-24T10:57:44+00:00

nine

AUTUMN ADJUSTMENTS

After two years, Kel could go through her morning classes in her sleep, and sometimes she did. Hand-to-hand combat with Hakuin Seastone and Eda Bell was first. Then came weapons training starting with staffs in the autumn. Archery class followed weapons, then tilting. None of the pages ever expected anything new. In the fourth week of Kel’s third year, however, Lord Wyldon turned creative.

In weapons class, their teachers announced a new program. The first-and second-years were to continue staff practice. The third-and fourth-year pages were to learn how to fight in groups of different sizes. The combinations would change from day to day: three third-years against two fourth-years, four fourth-years against five third-years, or simple battle, one-on-one. They were allowed to use any of their usual weapons, not just staffs. They could even resort to Shang kicks, punches, and throws in a tight spot. The Shang warriors would record points for each combat. When the senior pages were put in groups, one page would be put in command of each side. If the members of a group looked to someone who was not the appointed leader for orders, their side would lose points.

“One day you will be leading peasants who don’t know a sword from a rock. You will have to do your best with them,” Lord Wyldon explained on the first day they tried this new practice. “Or soldiers, or other knights, or simply your own squire. Learn to give commands, and learn to take them. Learn to know where the other members of your force are, and learn to command forces of different sizes. Now, get to it!”

“Seniors get to do all the jolly things,” Owen complained as they walked to archery practice that first day.

Neal glared at the chubby second-year with all the royal disdain of a vexed lion. He was limping from a staff blow to the knee. “You are a bloody-minded savage,” he informed Owen sternly. “I hope you are kidnapped by centaurs.”

Kel liked archery. In two years she had gone from holding and drawing the bow wrong to hitting the target’s center on every shot. She had just collected her bow and quiver when she heard the archery master call, “The following will come with me.” He walked over to the right side of the yard, where the target by the fence had been moved fifty yards beyond those the pages normally shot at. He named a group that included Kel, Neal, Quinden, Merric, Faleron, Yancen, Balduin of Disart, another fourth-year, and Quinden’s friend Dermid of Josu’s Dirk.

“You people ought to be better,” the archery master informed them. “My lord has said it, and I agree. You’ll improve by Midwinter or I’ll know why. Once you start hitting the more distant target, I’ll let you play with these.”

Any crossness Kel felt at being forced to work harder when she was already doing well evaporated when she saw the arrows the archery master held. Until now they had shot as if they hunted deer or game birds.

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