Lady Knight. Tamora Pierce

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      ‘Keladry of Mindelan, Saefas Ploughman,’ Wyldon said. ‘He’s a trapper.’

      The man bowed. ‘Not from Goatstrack, so I’ve had little time to wear her down,’ he said with a grin. ‘The way Squire Owen tells it, milady, you’re ten feet tall and eat ogres.’

      Kel smiled. She could see that Owen would like this man. ‘I shrank in my last hot bath,’ she replied. ‘I’m very disheartened by it.’

      People came over to be introduced. So did others as word spread that the realm’s second female knight was present. They spoke to Wyldon, asking for news as they eyed Kel. All bore the signs of hard times: clothes that were too loose, ragged, and stained; skin that had once covered more flesh. Their eyes were haunted by family and friends who were dead, crippled, enslaved, or missing.

      At last Wyldon bade the refugees good-night and led Kel back to headquarters. Inside, he knelt to poke up the fire. ‘I hear you have a new servant.’

      ‘Yessir,’ Kel replied. She watched the play of firelight over Wyldon’s features. ‘You took me there because you wanted me to feel badly for them, enough that I would take the command. But all you have to do is order me.’

      ‘Sometimes it’s better to have understanding than obedience,’ Wyldon informed her. He got to his feet with a grimace. ‘I know this is not what you wanted. No matter what I say, you and others will think this is a dungheap assignment.’

      He sat in a chair and motioned for Kel to sit opposite him. She did so gratefully. The long day’s ride and the time standing with the refugees had made her ache.

      ‘The truth is, you are the only one I can trust to do this job properly,’ Wyldon explained. ‘You care enough about commoners to do the task well. I did consider Queenscove, but he is much too fair. He shares his sarcasm and his inability to abide fools with all, regardless of rank. If they didn’t kill him within two weeks, I’d have to see if he was drugging their water.’ He winced as he flexed the hand on his bad arm. ‘Anyone else will order them about, create more resentment, and turn the place into a shambles – or pursue his own amusements and leave them to get into trouble.’

      Kel rubbed her face. He was right. She’d heard her peers’ opinions of commoners, had been accused of caring too much about them. Not so long ago, she had learned that the maximum punishment given to a noble who’d arranged the kidnapping of another noble’s servant was a fine, to compensate for the loss of the servant’s work. That law was being changed, but there were others like it. A noble owed a duty to those who served him, but such duty was not glorious. Fairness and consideration were unnecessary; the affairs and pride of commoners were unimportant. The noble who worried too much about them was somehow weak. Kel knew her world. Her respect for common blood was a rarity. Her father’s grandparents were merchants. Every branch of their family save his was still merchants to the bone. Perhaps it was also because her parents, as diplomats, were so used to seeing other points of view, foreign or Tortallan, that they had passed their attitudes on to their children.

      She also knew Wyldon was right about Neal.

      ‘Well?’ her former training master enquired. ‘Will you do this, Keladry of Mindelan?’

      Blayce! she thought, suddenly panicked. The Nothing Man! If I’m pinned to a camp, how will I find him? How will I stop him?

      She remembered those thin faces in the barracks, child and adult alike. She remembered Tirrsmont, crammed with people. Looking at Wyldon, she saw trust in his face, the face of a man she respected as much as she did her father and Lord Raoul.

      Kel sighed. ‘I’ll do it, my lord.’

      Her first task was to choose supplies. Wyldon cautioned her not to get greedy. The next morning he sent Owen with her to write down her choices. When they reached the storehouse, Kel stopped to look at her unusually quiet friend. Owen wouldn’t meet her eyes.

      She put her hand under his chin, startled to feel the scrape of newly shaved whiskers, and made him look at her. ‘You didn’t know,’ she said.

      Owen grimaced. Words tumbled from his mouth: ‘Kel, I swear I didn’t! He told me this morning. He – he apologized, for keeping something important from me,’ he said, ’specially when I have to learn about making camps like this, but he said you’d see it on my face, and he wanted to talk to you first. Kel, if I knew, I’d’ve argued him out of it. Well, I’d’ve tried to,’ he amended as Kel took her hand away from his chin. ‘He’s hard to argue with. But I would’ve tried! I’m so sorry!’

      Kel grinned. ‘Of course he wouldn’t tell you,’ she informed him. ‘You’re the worst liar I know, even if you’re just not saying anything. You ought to feel virtuous, that he knows you can’t lie.’

      ‘I feel like a failure,’ Owen confessed. ‘A true friend would have found out and warned you.’

      ‘How?’ Kel asked reasonably, leading the way into the storehouse. ‘Search his papers? That’s hardly proper. And what could I have done if you’d told me? Run off? Stop fussing.’ She opened the shutters, admitting the morning light so they could see the rows of goods. Her sparrows flew in. Some perched on Owen; others zipped around the stacked supplies, as if taking their own inventory.

      ‘But, Kel, making you a, a nursemaid!’ protested Owen, stroking a male sparrow’s black collar with a gentle finger. ‘When you’re a better warrior than anybody but my lord! And Lord Raoul, and the Lioness,’ he added, belatedly remembering that there might be others Kel would think were better. ‘It’s just not right!’

      ‘My lord says I’ll see plenty of fighting,’ Kel told him.

      Owen studied her for a long moment. Whatever he sought in her face, he seemed to find it. ‘Anything you want me to do, Kel, you let me know,’ he told her seriously. He gripped her arm for a moment, then let go. ‘Anything I can do to help.’

      For a moment they looked at one another, Owen’s gaze firm, Kel’s thoughtful. He’s growing up, she thought, surprised. And he’s growing up well.

      She patted his shoulder, then surveyed the storehouse. ‘For now I need a quartermaster,’ she said. They might never talk about what had just passed, but neither would they forget it. ‘Someone who can say what’s reasonable to draw for my people.’

      ‘Be right back,’ Owen promised, and trotted out the door.

      Tobe and Jump came in as he left, Tobe directing a scowl at Owen’s back. ‘I can do anything he might do,’ Tobe informed Kel.

      She clasped his shoulder, amused and yet flattered. ‘I need you for other things, Tobe,’ she informed him. ‘We’ve a lot of work ahead.’

       CHAPTER 4

       KEL TAKES COMMAND

      With the men who had built the camp – soldiers, convict soldiers, and refugees – already in residence, Kel saw no reason to linger at Fort Giantkiller. She needed a thorough view of her new home and its surroundings before the bulk of her charges arrived. Once they did, she would be short on time.

      Two days after her arrival СКАЧАТЬ