First Test

‘For those who are new,’ he said, no trace of accent in his clear, mellow voice, ‘I am Hakuin Seastone, the Shang Horse. My colleague, who joined me this summer, is Eda Bell, the Shang Wildcat.’

‘Don’t go thinking you can bounce me all over the ground just because I look like somebody’s grandmother,’ the woman said dryly. ‘Some grandchildren need more raising than others, and I supply it.’ She grinned, showing very white teeth.

Kel saw the redheaded Merric swallow. She agreed: the Wildcat looked tough.

‘You older lads, pair up and go through the first drill,’ ordered Hakuin. ‘Grandmother here will keep an eye on you. As for you new ones …’ He beckoned them over to a corner of the yard. Once they stood before him, the man continued, ‘Your first and most important lesson is, learn how to fall. Slap the ground as you hit, and roll. Like this.’ He fell forward, using his arms to break his fall. The boys jumped; the sound and the puff of dust he raised made the fall appear more serious than it was.

The Horse got to his feet and held a hand out to blond Quinden. When the boy took it, he found himself soaring gently over Hakuin’s hip. Only after he landed did the boy remember to slap the ground.

‘You have to do that earlier, as you hit,’ said Hakuin gently, helping Quinden up. ‘Now.’ He beckoned to Kel and offered a hand.

She took it, meaning to let him throw her as he had Quinden, but the moment she felt his tug, six years of Yamani training took over. She turned, letting her back slide into the curve of his pulling arm as she gripped him with both hands and drew him over her right hip. He faltered, then steadied, and swept Kel’s feet from under her. She released his arm, then tucked and rolled forward as she hit the ground. She surged back up again and turned to face him, setting herself for the next attack.

He stood where she had left him, smiling wryly. Horrified, Kel laid her hands flat on her thighs and bowed. She expected a swat on the head or a bellow in her ear – Nariko, the emperor’s training master, had had no patience with people who didn’t complete a throw or counter a sweeping foot.

When no one swatted or bellowed, she looked up through her fringe. Everyone was staring at her.

Kel looked down again, wishing she could disappear.

‘See what happens when you get too comfortable, Hakuin?’ drawled the Wildcat. ‘Someone hands you a surprise. If you’d been a hair slower, she’d’ve tossed you.’

‘Isn’t it bad enough I am humbled, without you adding your copper to the sum, Eda?’ the Horse enquired. ‘Look at me, youngster,’ he ordered. When Kel obeyed, she saw Hakuin’s black eyes were dancing. ‘Someone has studied in the Yamani Islands.’

‘Yes, sir,’ she whispered.

‘Your teacher was old Nariko, the emperor’s training master, am I right? She always did like that throw. She drilled me in it so many times I wanted to toss her into a tree and leave her there.’

Kel nodded, hiding a smile.

Hakuin looked at the older pages. ‘I believe you were practising the first drill for the Wildcat?’ he asked mildly. Instantly there was a flurry of activity, patterns of kicks, throws, and punches. Hakuin turned back to Kel. ‘Come and show the other new ones how to fall. While they practise, we can see what else you know.’

‘Just what they taught the court ladies,’ Kel said. ‘Mostly counters to being grabbed or struck.’

‘You were with the embassy?’ he asked.

Kel nodded.

‘That explains everything.’ To the other new pages he said, ‘Watch how Keladry falls.’

They all stared at her with a combination of confusion and dislike. It occurred to her that she had done the very thing her brother had warned her against. The other pages thought she was showing off. She couldn’t help that now. The damage was done. She would just have to make sure that she didn’t repeat her mistake.

With a sigh, she toppled forward, as she had so often in the Islands, and smacked the ground.

When the next bell of the morning rang, they moved to another practice yard. A short black man in the maroon and beige uniform of the palace guard waited for them beside a barrel filled with long wooden staffs. Each of the pages selected one as he passed by.

‘I am Sergeant Obafem Ezeko,’ announced the uniformed black man in unaccented Common. ‘Formerly weapons instructor to the Imperial Guard of Carthak, now serving the crown of Tortall. Lord Wyldon and I will instruct you in the use of various weapons. Pair up. You new ones at this end of the line. Cleon of Kennan and Vinson of Genlith, come up here to demonstrate.’

Cleon was the big, redheaded boy who was Esmond of Nicoline’s sponsor. He went to stand beside the sergeant, spinning his staff idly in his hands. Vinson faced off with him. He was a bony, tall youth. Kel had seen him eating with the handsome Joren at supper and breakfast.

‘Show them a high block,’ instructed the sergeant. ‘Vinson defending, Cleon striking.’

Cleon pulled his staff back and swung it first up, then down. The blow he’d aimed would have struck Vinson on the head or collarbone if it had landed. Instead Vinson gripped his staff, his hands spread wide apart, and raised the weapon a few inches over his head. Cleon’s staff met his with a loud clack.

‘Observe the strike,’ the sergeant told them. ‘Again, Cleon.’ The big youth repeated the strike, moving slowly. Kel nodded, watching the way his hands shifted on the smooth wood as he lowered it to tap Vinson’s skull. From the way Vinson scowled at the bigger youth, Cleon’s tap was a little harder than necessary.

‘Your turn,’ barked Ezeko. He watched as the assembled pages did the strike. The newest boys were clumsy, although they should have had staff practice from their family men-at-arms. Kel was comfortable with the move. The only difference between this and the strike of a Yamani glaive, the weapon she knew best, was that she had no razor-sharp eighteen inches of steel at the end of her staff.

‘Repeat the high block, Vinson,’ ordered the sergeant. Everyone watched as Vinson moved his hands apart on the staff and thrust it hard into the air, stopping just three inches over his head. He angled the staff down on the right to shield his face as well as his head. The sergeant made everyone do the same movement. He then had Cleon and Vinson demonstrate the middle strike and block, which centred on the chest and belly, and the low combination, to attack and defend the legs. Each time he made the pages try the moves.

Once they had practised each movement, Ezeko had them stand in two lines. The newest pages were paired together. Neal, who was still new despite having been there during the spring and early summer, was partnered with Seaver of Tasride, the dark-haired, dark-eyed boy who looked as if he had a Bazhir ancestor. Kel was paired with redheaded Merric of Hollyrose. He was short, compact, and intent on their exercise. Kel licked her lips and settled the weapon in her hands.

‘Left line strikes; right line blocks,’ the sergeant told them. He walked along the double line of pages, checking everyone’s hold on the staffs. After he’d changed some boys’ grips and nodded approval for others, he stepped back. ‘To my count,’ he bellowed. ‘High! Middle! Low!’ Staffs clacked as the exercise began and wood met wood. ‘High! Middle! Low!’