Название: First Test
Автор: Tamora Pierce
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Ужасы и Мистика
Серия: The Protector of the Small Quartet
isbn: 9780008304201
isbn:
‘I had to do something,’ Kel explained.
‘Calling for help and staying put would have been wiser,’ he pointed out. ‘Leave the fighting to real warriors. Here we are.’ A man-at-arms put the recovered sack into his hands. Anders in turn put the bag in Kel’s lap.
Nervously she pulled the bag open. Five wet kittens, their eyes barely opened, turned their faces up to her and protested their morning’s adventure. ‘I’ll take you to our housekeeper,’ Kel promised them. ‘She knows what to do with kittens.’
Once the animals were seen to and she had changed into a clean gown and slippers, Kel went to her father’s study. With her came a small group of animals: two elderly dogs, three cats, two puppies, a kitten, and a three-legged pine marten. Kel gently moved them out of the way and closed the door before they could sneak into the room. Anders was there, leaning on a walking stick as he talked to their parents. All three adults fell silent and looked at Kel.
‘I’ll do it,’ she said quietly. ‘I want the training, and the right weapons. Anders was right. It was stupid to go after a spidren with stones.’
‘And if they send you home at the end of a year?’ asked Ilane of Mindelan.
Kel took a deep breath. ‘Then I’ll still know more than I do now,’ she said firmly.
Piers looked at his wife, who nodded. ‘Then we’d best pack,’ said Ilane, getting to her feet. ‘You leave the day after tomorrow.’ Passing Kel on her way to the door, her mother lightly touched the eye the village boy had hit. It was red, blue, and puffy – not the worst black eye Kel had ever had. ‘Let’s also get a piece of raw meat to put on this,’ suggested the woman.
The next evening, Kel made her way to the stables to visit her pony, Chipper, to explain to him that the palace would supply her with a knight’s mount. The pony lipped her shirt in an understanding way. He at least would be in good hands: Anders’s oldest son was ready to start riding, and he loved the pony.
‘I thought I might find you here,’ a voice said as Kel fed Chip an apple. She squeaked in surprise. For a man with a limp and a cane, Anders moved very quietly. ‘You know we’ll take care of him.’
Kel nodded and picked up a brush to groom the pony’s round sides. ‘I know. I’ll miss him all the same.’
Anders leaned against a post. ‘Kel …’
She looked at him. Since the incident on the river the day before, she’d caught Anders watching her. She barely remembered him before their departure to the Islands, six years ago – he had already been a knight, handsome and distant in his armour, always riding somewhere. In the months since their return to Mindelan, she had come to like him. ‘Something the matter?’ she asked.
Anders sighed. ‘Do you realize it’s going to be hard? Maybe impossible? They’ll make it tough. There’s hazing, for one thing. I don’t know when the custom started, but it’s called “earning your way”. It’s just for the first-year pages. The senior ones make you run stupid little errands, like fetching gloves and picking up things that get knocked over. You have to do it. Otherwise it’s the same as saying you don’t have to do what the older pages did, as if you think you’re better than they are. And older pages play tricks on the young ones, and some of them will pick fights. Stand up for yourself, or they’ll make your life a misery.’
‘In the rules they sent, fighting isn’t allowed.’
‘Of course it’s forbidden. If you’re caught, they punish you. That’s expected. What you must never do is tattle on another page, or say who you fought with. That’s expected, too. Tell them you fell down – that’s what I always said. Otherwise no one will trust you. A boy told when I was a page. He finally left because no one would speak to him.’
‘But they’ll punish me for fighting?’
‘With chores, extra lessons, things like that. You take every punishment, whatever it’s for, and keep quiet.’
‘Like the Yamanis,’ she said, brushing loose hairs from Chipper’s coat. ‘You don’t talk – you obey.’
Anders nodded. ‘Just do what you’re told. Don’t complain. If you can’t do it, say that you failed, not that you can’t. No one can finish every task that’s given. What your teachers don’t want is excuses, or blaming someone else, or saying it’s unfair. They know it’s unfair. Do what you can, and take your punishment in silence.’
Kel nodded. ‘I can do that, I think.’
Anders chuckled. ‘That’s the strange thing – I believe you can. But, Kel—’
Kel went to Chip’s far side, looking at Anders over the pony’s back. ‘What?’
The young man absently rubbed his stiff leg. ‘Kel, all these things you learned in the Islands …’
‘Yes?’ she prodded when he fell silent again.
‘You might want to keep them to yourself. Otherwise, the pages might think you believe you’re better than they are. You don’t want to be different, all right? At least, not any more different than you already are.’
‘Won’t they want to learn new things?’ she wanted to know. ‘I would.’
‘Not everyone’s like you, Kel. Do what they teach you, no more. You’ll save yourself heartache that way.’
Kel smiled. ‘I’ll try,’ she told him.
Anders straightened with a wince. ‘Don’t be out here too long,’ he reminded her. ‘You’re up before dawn.’
Unlike normal dreams, in which time and places and people did strange things, this dream was completely true to Kel’s memory. It began as she knelt before an altar and stared at the swords placed on it. The weapons were sheathed in pure gold rubbed as smooth and bright as glass. She was five years old again.
‘They are the swords given to the children of the fire goddess, Yama,’ a lady-in-waiting beside Kel said, awe in her soft voice. ‘The short sword is the sword of law. Without it, we are only animals. The long sword is the sword of duty. It is the terrible sword, the killing sword.’ Her words struck a chord in Kel that left the little girl breathless. She liked the idea that duty was a killing sword. ‘Without duty,’ the lady continued, ‘duty to our lords, to our families, and to the law, we are less than animals.’
Kel smelled burning wood. She looked around, curious. The large oil lamps that hung from the temple ceiling by thick cords smelled of perfume, not wood. Kel sniffed the air. She knew that fires were terrible on the Yamani Islands, where indoor walls were often paper screens and straw mats covered floors of polished wood.
The lady-in-waiting got to her feet.
The temple doors crashed open. There was Kel’s mother, Ilane, her outer kimono flapping open, her thick pale hair falling out of its pins. In her hands she carried a staff capped with a broad, curved blade. Her blue-green eyes were huge in her bone-white face.
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