A Not-So-Sacrificial Maiden: Book One of the Knightess of the Realm: Knightess of the Realm, #1

By Kerridwen Mangala McNamara

Five years ago the Evil Wizard Henig destroyed Taridawil, turning the prosperous province into a Black Desert.

One year ago Karana's merchant parents were slain by Henig's foul minions as they took her to be betrothed to a lord's son.

Now, seventeen-year-old Karana has emerged from struggling to survive a brutal winter in the Forest of Ryylyn - a full year on her own with no human contact - only to discover that the foul wizard has demanded that the King turn her over or the rest of the Realm will follow Taridawil's fate.
Compounding the problem is that Karana is now the head of her powerful merchant House and has responsibilities that reach far beyond one small Realm.

Saving the Realm without ending up as a Sacrificial Maiden is... going to be a challenge...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kerridwen Mangala McNamara
• Release date: Feb 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9781960160010

Book preview

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"I cry the King’s mercy to not throw me – orphaned, alone, and helpless – into the hands of the Evil Wizard.

I cry the chance to undo the wrongs for myself, Majesty! Allow me to train, even as do thy knights and I shall see that the Evil Wizard Henig must face Justice!

It was a bold claim. An arrogant one, even, that she could do what knights and armies could not. A ridiculous request – for the daughter of a commoner to enter knightly training at an age when the sons of nobles would be deemed too old. A plea of desperation, certainly… And yet… and yet…

Was it merest chance that a ray of sunshine seemed to particularly illuminate Karana in that instant? That the midnight of her hair seemed flecked with stars as dust-motes glowed about her and her green eyes sought the green eyes of the king? Was the look of startled recognition – and hope – on King Theolore’s face merely a trick of the light?

The sudden look of determination and belief on His Majesty’s face certainly was not. Thou shalt have thy chance, dear maiden, King Theolore answered, to the shocked horror of the gathered onlookers. Thou takest upon thyself a nigh impossible task, however. Thou hast only the remainder of the time allotted to us by the evil mage in which to accomplish the task of a lifetime, he warned her. Less than two full years from today – Midsummer’s Day.

For upon the end of that time, King Theolore finished, whither thy preparation is complete or no, thee must face Henig in his dark citadel – for the good of the Realm.

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A Not-So-Sacrificial Maiden

Book 1 of the Knightess of the Realm

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KERRIDWEN MANGALA MCNAMARA

RISING DRAGON BOOKS

For my father, who let me keep homeschooling through high school even though he was worried about my future because he wanted me to be able to keep writing. It took longer than either of us anticipated, but it worked!

Somebody said that it couldn’t be done…

Edgar A. Guest

And for every kid for whom school wasn't a great fit...

(And for every one for whom it was...)

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Chapter ONE

Out of the Woods and into a Pickle

KARANA LOOKED UP AT THE city of Tallspire standing high on its hill before her. There was nothing humble, or even particularly welcoming, about this place. Atop the high hill, a curtain-wall encircled the city-proper, turrets and towers marking even divisions of its smooth stone walls. But the glittering spires for which the city was named were those of the King’s Crystal Castle, and those pierced higher still, bright pennons flying from their peaks.

The city atop the mesa was enclosed, but it had long since spilled past the protecting walls: the steep, nearly vertical, sides of Tallspire’s hill were bare of human habitation, but the castle-city stood like a proud ship cresting a wave over a sea of buildings, mansions, yards, workshops, stables, even tents and cottages. The city on the plains was known locally as Tallspire-Below, as the city on high was known as Tallspire-Above.

The young woman was jostled on either side and addressed with muttered (and not-so-muttered) oaths of irritation as she stood still in the center of the busy highway leading to the main gate of the wall. It didn’t seem to bother her; she was in her own world as she considered the edifice of the city above.

Ah, well, there’s nothing to be done but to do it! she finally said aloud – surely to the confusion of some passerby – and she stepped forth again to join the stream of people heading to Tallspire-Above.

Karana drew many glances – some admiring, but mostly askance, as she made her way up the highway. She moved with the assurance of one used to crowds, but she was dressed in a hodge-podge of garments – men’s leggings and shirt hung all over with rabbit skins in a sort of ragged tunic. She was clearly a young maid; tall, and with the clear, fair skin of one raised in luxury... though her cheeks were sunken with hunger and she was far too thin for health. She was fair of feature, her demeanor knowledgeable, though somehow still innocent. A wealth of midnight hair spilled down her back in a tight braid that nearly reached past her knees.

But her wild, half-starved look, her self-assurance, and the bow and quiver she carried, discouraged casual attention from the sort of young men moving along the highway. As did her strangely determined, if not slightly grim, expression.

They were, after all, merely farmboys and townbred artisans and vendors.

It was a long, hot trudge to the gate at the top of the hill for Karana, who had been on her feet since dawn. The roadway had been made into a wide, long ramp for the convenience of the many carts and carriages that took this route – not to mention the King’s knights and men-at-arms on their destriers. Street vendors with carts lined the sides with food and other items for travelers to purchase. Karana paused to buy a late luncheon of fresh-squeezed juice and hot sausage-rolls, surprising the seller by paying in silver despite her ragged appearance.

The guards on the wall bound her bowstring to her unstrung bow and placed a seal on her quiver. They made a perfunctory check of the basket she carried. It was filled with furs – merely rabbit, but finished so that the leather was soft and pliable, the fur firmly attached but still sleek. One of the guards – perhaps a bit taken with her – suggested that the furs were fine enough that she might be able to sell them to a certain seamstress who was quite in fashion with the Court these days… and if Karana felt he’d done her a good turn, perhaps she would come back at the end of his shift? She smiled and thanked him for his kind words, but slipped away without a promise as his attention was required to check over a wagon hauling casks of some sort.

Far from following the guard’s directions to the Fashion District, Karana continued with purposeful strides towards the center of the city on the hill. The basket of furs was no more than a useful excuse to be here, a way of fending off more questions than she cared to answer.

At the very center of Tallspire-Above, a great paved courtyard lay in front of the Crystal Castle. In another time – a less peaceful one – this space would be kept clear for the use of soldiers and horses, but for now a huge market-fair filled the courtyard on all sides. After nearly a year living in the wilds, the complete lack of greenery was jarring to Karana’s sensibilities, but she steeled herself to the shouting, hawking, jostling crowd of people and made her way across the expanse to the very foot of the broad stairs leading up into the Castle.

These steps were still kept clear, with guards watching to ensure that they remained so. Only watching, however. It was an Audience Day, to her relief, and any citizen of Dawil – indeed, any foreigner also – might enter within to seek the King’s attention.

Karana began to climb the stairs between royal guards and the twelve-foot tall gilded statues of rampant dragons – the symbols of the Realm. She was determined, but all too aware of her ragged appearance. Tallspire had a reputation throughout the Realm of being very conscious of appearances, and the King’s Court moreso than any. Perhaps, she thought yet again, she should take the time to obtain more conventional clothing... but she had momentum on her side now and, if she stopped, she wasn’t sure she would be able to start moving again. It had taken her a year to reach this moment. She could not bear to put it off.

She reached the top of the broad, marble stairs and went in through the vast doors with the doorguards casting the barest glance at her – presumably to ascertain if her weapons were bound as required by law.

The hall within was well-lit by lanterns, but much darker than outdoors. Karana paused to let her eyes adjust, trying to make sense of her surroundings without looking like a country-cousin, all a-gawk at such simple marvels as smooth marble floors and multi-story columns. Two grand staircases curved away to either side, and a surprisingly short distance ahead of her was a wall with a small door guarded by a pair of sentries in tabards of the royal scarlet-and-silver over full-sleeved shirts of fine, white linen and black doeskin pants. They each bore a plain-hilted sword in addition to what looked like ceremonial staffs, or maybe spears, twisted with ribbons of scarlet and silver. They made a fine, brave sight though they were mismatched in height as well as coloring, with the taller one on the left being an arrogant blue-eyed blonde and the shorter – taller than Karana, but shorter than his mate – having dark hair and eyes.

As she drew closer to the wall, Karana did find herself marveling, for it seemed to be made in jointed segments that extended to the ceiling which could only have been done so as to slide it back to open the room up into a hall of even greater grandeur. She had seen such things in the past– albeit on a much smaller scale – and she had some understanding of both the cost and the complexity of such an endeavor. It was a clever solution to the limited space available on top of even the miles-wide flattened top of Tallspire’s hill.

A series of benches were arrayed before the sentries, with a scant handful of people waiting upon them. As Karana drew abreast, a man emerged from the door, gave the sentries a pleased nod, and made his way out of the castle. A moment later he was followed by another man with a much less pleased – though perhaps somewhat chastened – expression. The dark-haired sentry consulted a sheet of paper placed on a small podium to one side and called the next petitioners to enter. The entire number remaining on the benches rose and entered the door.

The sentries exchanged a look as the door closed.

What a mob of sourpusses, commented the tall sentry on the left. At closer inspection he was a tall and strikingly handsome young man with bright blue eyes and equally bright golden hair that was just curly enough to be fashionable. I’ll be glad when we’re done serving this duty, Kefen. We see more of that sort, than pretty maids– he leered a bit towards Karana, –and I, for one, am quite bored with it all.

Hush, Ivan, murmured the other before turning his attention to Karana. He was equally young, though somewhat shorter – she guessed they were about her own age of seventeen years – with wavy, dark-brown hair. His chocolate-colored eyes had a warm humor to them, and when he spoke, there was none of the deep irony that beset the other sentry’s tone. Are you here to see the King, Miss? I’ll need your name and your purpose.

Karana warmed to him right away, but she was hesitant to tell him why she had come. Her story seemed far-fetched, and she feared that she would be denied the chance to speak to the King if she tried to explain it. She hoped – she had prayed – that the King would somehow see to the heart of the matter, despite its strangeness. She had heard naught but good of King Theolore, including from those who should have had the experience to know.

My name is Karana Metreedi, she began, knowing that her quest might end right here before it was barely begun, but the two sentries exchanged such a startled glance that she hesitated to add more.

Do we interrupt His Majesty? asked the blonde Ivan in a hushed voice, all irony gone now.

Kefen’s warm brown eyes held a strange look as he nodded. Wait here… Miss. He instructed Karana and he ducked through the door himself, leaving her with the tall, golden-haired Ivan. They exchanged mutually dubious looks as Karana wondered what was going on.

She was not left to wonder long. Kefen reappeared almost immediately. He took her upper arm and gently held her out of the way as the group of unhappy petitioners exited right behind him. They looked no happier than before, but there was an excited buzz beneath their scowls and they, too, eyed her with speculation. Mutters of all that waiting! and but it’s HER! made no more sense to Karana than the speaking looks the two sentries kept exchanging.

As soon as the petitioners had cleared the front hall, Kefen escorted her to the door and all but shoved her inside.

It was much brighter. Light seemed to be everywhere – even brighter than outside! – and Karana guessed that she was beneath one of the famed spires of the Crystal Castle. So much glass! her papa had exclaimed on more than one occasion, And all of it enchanted a thousand years ago, not the work of the ‘mere honest tradesmen’ of today. While all the Great Families of Dawil had their ancient magickal extravagances, somehow it was Tallspire’s that attracted her merchant-father’s ire.

Squire Kefen says that thy name is ‘Karana Metreedi’, said a deep, kind voice before her watering eyes had begun to make out more than vague shapes. Art thou truly?

Only years of training rescued her. She made a graceful courtesy – an awkward thing to do dressed in leggings and a man’s shirt and draped in rabbit furs! – in the direction of the voice and turned her words to the Courtly modes. I am, Your Majesty. My father was the Master Merchant– Her eyes had recovered enough to see the King gesture in negation and she cut off what else she was going to say, though she still could not make out the faces of the other nobles sitting in the audience chamber. The liege-lord of her own home-city of Wave, Lord Andros, might even be up there, but she could not tell. He would believe her tale, she knew.

Explain thyself, child. Why hast thou come before Us in audience this Midsummer’s Day?

She hadn’t known it was Midsummer, but that would explain the slightly frantic celebratory energy of the crowds outside. Midsummer... it had been exactly a year, then...

Karana swallowed hard. The moment had come. Sire, I am come to beg King’s Justice upon the murderers of my family and servants. We were fallen upon by bandits and foul monsters as we took the King’s Road through the Forest of Ryylyn to Mountainmeadow a year ago this very Midsummer’s Day. My mother hid me in a secret compartment of our carriage… when I emerged, all were slain. My mother, my father… and amongst the bodies of those I knew and some that were clearly bandits, were some of monsters, dressed somewhat like men and carrying weapons. She had steeled herself for this, rehearsed the evil words till they were spoken without thought, without having to remember…

… but still the tears came into her eyes and she could not blink enough to clear them though they half-blinded her again. "I was but alone, Sire. And – in some wise – the Road was gone and we were – I was – stranded among trees with no clear path in any direction. In the depths of the Forest, with night coming on. I was alone and I knew the wild beasts would be coming, nor did I know how far our attackers had gone… The Goddess pardon me– her voice broke, but she continued, I had to take what supplies I could and flee from that spot. I could not bury them or even burn them…" She could hear the shocked murmur of the courtiers about the room, but she could not tell if they were shocked by her or for her.

Dear child, another voice, and the blur of tears still let her identify it as coming from the crowned and gowned figure seated beside the King and in that same eye-hurting scarlet. However didst thou manage? The Queen’s voice held an ancient regret, but much kindness.

Karana stood tall and forbore to dash the tears from her eyes. My father was a wise man, Your Majesty, and I his only heir. He had me trained as the daughters of other men are not – in some wise even as a son, perhaps. Well, that was true as far as these northern nobles were concerned. In Wave it hardly mattered if one was male or female, but rather one’s skills and talents. But she was in the north now... I learned the ways of the bow and the knife. To hunt and know the woods that I might parlay with our noble customers. A better explanation for the King than the embarrassing tale of why she had been sent to learn such skills from the shepherds who tended the Metreedi flocks in the wilds east of Wave. To know the tanning of hides and the knowledge of plants that I might judge the quality of our goods and the expertise of our suppliers. Due to his wisdom, I have survived. What I did not know, she admitted, was how to find the Road. It took long and long to find my way out, and Winter came before I knew my way.

More than survived, thou hast thrived, the Queen said and her tone was clearly approving. My Lord, she said, turning to her husband, It seemeth me that this girl hath no conception of our concern upon her presence, or indeed our search for her.

Search? Search for her? Karana could not fathom what the Queen meant.

The King nodded briefly. "Know then, Karana, that one year ago the Wizard Henig – aye, even he who hath transformed the province of Taridawil, the home of our ancient kings, into a Waste – he came even unto this Audience Chamber on Midsummer’s Day. And when he did stand there – even as thou dost – he demanded that We yield up one maid named Karana to him. Of his generosity, the King’s emerald green eyes glinted with repressed anger, he gave us three years to do so – else he will create the rest of Dawil as he hath done the Black Waste."

Karana tried not to gape and her Courtly phrasing failed her. "Me? He wants me?"

Hast thou any notion as to why? the Queen queried in a gentle voice.

Karana could only shake her head numbly. But the pieces were falling into place. It must be Henig – whose vile deeds were whispered at even so far as her southern home city of Wave – who had murdered her parents. Or rather his foul retainers had. And he must have bespelled their carriage and servants to lose the road, though it seemed some grace of the Goddess must have protected her from his searchers even as she had moved, all unknowing, the hundred leagues and more from the site of the attack to a bare half-day’s walk from the capitol – though the young woman could have sworn she had not traveled a tenth that distance. But what could such an evil creature want with her? Why her?

The Court was discussing these things more loudly than she was in her own head. Each courtier seemed to feel it was necessary to share their thoughts with the rest – and several were clustered around the King and Queen though she did not see Lord Andros in the still-hazy blur of bright colors and glittering jewels. A sea of unfamiliar faces deciding her fate...

Karana herself seemed almost to have been forgotten. A small chill crept up her back as she realized the debate was at least partly about whether they should immediately deliver her up to Henig – in chains if need be – and thereby spare the Realm.

Henig had appeared – seemingly from nowhere – some five years earlier. The first anyone had ever heard of him was when the Black Waste began to expand from the city of Taridawil, capitol of the province, pushing before it the people – common and minor nobles – who had lived there. The city and the province-proper had been transformed instantly, but the vassal fiefs had time to evacuate before being overwhelmed.

Of the Lord Duke of Taridawil and his family there was no word at all. The Waste had continued to expand until it covered all of what had been the largest and most ancient province of Dawil and most of its vassals, and fully one-third of the Realm as it currently stood. Knights and armies had been tried against the Wizard, but all to no avail. And it seemed there were no sorcerers in the land powerful enough to combat him directly – Dawil’s native magicks had been declining for a thousand years, though none knew why, and they were largely limited to midwives and other Healers.

Henig had finally sent word to Tallspire – to King Theolore the Third, before whom Karana stood – to name himself. This much had been known before Karana’s family had set forth, four years later, from their southerly home-city of Wave with no more exotic a plan than to secure a foothold into the nobility by her marriage to a younger son of a Great House and arrange for the tariffs on certain trade-routes through Mountainmeadow to be reduced.

The courtiers were eyeing Karana with too much interest. And how could she blame them? If they did not yield her up to this Evil Wizard – for whatever mysterious purpose he wanted her – they might find themselves homeless and fleeing Henig’s depredations, even as the Taridawilm had. Or vanished utterly, as those of the central part of the province had done. Karana had cousins who had lived there...

But, oh! She did not want to be placed helpless into those evil clutches!

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Chapter TWO:

Take a Chance...

A WILD IDEA CAME INTO Karana’s mind. King Theolore and Queen Marlerite were known for their fairness. Surely, they would give her a chance!

Your Majesties! she cried, ignoring the speculative, almost predatory, glances of the courtiers. Your Majesties! I cry the King’s Justice! I beg the King’s help in bringing the murderer of my parents before the Law!

She certainly had the attention of everyone in the room. The King’s brow creased, and his eyes were troubled. He tugged his curling golden beard as if agitated. Henig was beyond his power to prosecute, but he did not want to say so openly before all… nor was he unsympathetic to her situation.

Karana was not finished. I cry the King’s mercy to not throw me – orphaned, alone, and helpless – into the hands of the Evil Wizard.

Queen Marlerite gave a little cry at that, and turned away, her red-gold tresses falling forwards to cover her fair face.

I cry the chance to undo the wrongs for myself, Majesty! Allow me to train, even as do thy knights and I shall see that the Evil Wizard Henig must face Justice!

It was a bold claim. An arrogant one, even, that she could do what knights and armies could not. A ridiculous request – for the daughter of a commoner to enter knightly training at an age when the sons of nobles would be deemed too old. A plea of desperation, certainly…

And yet… and yet…

Was it merest chance that a ray of sunshine seemed to particularly illuminate Karana in that instant? That the midnight of her hair seemed flecked with stars as dust-motes glowed about her as her green eyes sought the green eyes of the king? Was the look of startled recognition – and hope – on King Theolore’s face merely a trick of the light?

The sudden look of determination and belief on His Majesty’s face certainly was not.

Thou shalt have thy chance, dear maiden, King Theolore answered, to the shocked horror of the gathered onlookers. Thou takest upon thyself a nigh impossible task, however. Thou hast only the remainder of the time allotted to us by the evil mage in which to accomplish the task of a lifetime, he warned her. Less than two full years from today – Midsummer’s Day.

For upon the end of that time, King Theolore finished, whither thy preparation is complete or no, thee must face Henig in his dark citadel – for the good of the Realm.

Karana bowed her head in assent and relief – the King had not said how she would face Henig, but at least it would not likely be in chains. She turned seventeen today – two more years of life seemed a worthy gift.

It was not, of course, as simple as all that.

No one – other than Karana – seemed pleased about the idea of a girl training with the knights. It was not unheard of, but lady knights were nearly as long gone as the fabled gentle dragons from whom this Realm of Dawil supposedly took its name in a language more ancient still.

Immediately the Court burst into outraged protest, but the King would not be swayed. All he would reply was that he had his reasons – and since one did not confront the King in public, the irritation and outrage was bent upon Karana. Silently in the Court – lest they further annoy the King – but she felt sure it would remain neither silent nor passive once she was out from under the Royal eye.

She finally caught sight of Lord Andros, off to one side, but she dared not turn to look at him while the King commanded her attention. She hoped he would understand and support her, perhaps even speak to the rest on her behalf. He had been a friend to her parents...

But King Theolore was not done.

"Further, it is not the tradition in this Realm of Dawil to send out our knights as solitary warriors with none to shield their back and guard their rest. Each knight trained for this Realm is bound by oath and honor to the aid and companionship of two others – this binding dating from their last years of training that they may learn their skills as one. As all men know, all things are best that come in Threes because this is the most stable of numbers.

"Thus, to this end do We bind these, Our Squires, to train with and be Knight-Companions to Karana. Should she attain her lofty goal, they shall go with her to confront the foul Wizard.

Come forth, Squire Kefen, Squire Ivan, he beckoned, and the two who had served as sentries of the door – and curiously followed her into the Audience Chamber – came forward. They left behind their ceremonial staffs against the wall, and now knelt at the King’s behest.

Ivan – the overly handsome and arrogant one – managed to toss his stylish golden hair in a way that conveyed both pleasure with the Royal attention and irritation at the reason why. Kefen, however, had a look of grim determination – and... gratitude?

The King had them all swear by the Great Goddess to be Companions and laid upon the young men the solemn duty of ensuring that Karana complete her training in the time allotted, and then dismissed the Court. Judging by the swarm of courtiers who followed him out, he would have a long day as they tried to argue him out of these choices. Queen Marlerite paused long enough to favor the three with an encouraging smile before following the noble mob, and tall Lord Andros caught Karana’s eye with a look that said she had best be ready to explain herself when next they met... but he seemed to wish her well nonetheless and she took heart from that even more than from the Queen’s smile.

Which left the three young people alone in the overly large room. Karana could now relax just enough to appreciate how very large the room was – with velvet curtains and the thrones on a dais of three broad, marble steps, the raised galleries along both sides where had stood the crowds of glittering nobility. Perhaps a room for those famous balls the King and Queen had once thrown… there had been little in the way of Royal celebration since the advent of the Evil Wizard, or so she had heard in Wave.

Well, His Majesty is probably quite glad my lord father is not yet at Court, Ivan noted sardonically, "While he rarely cares much what happens to me, he will see me being Bound Companion to a ragged, commoner girl as an offense to his station."

Karana looked ruefully down at her – unusual – attire and shook her head. It had seemed a useful prop in her original request to the king, when she had merely planned to ask for help and when she had not dared to let herself slow down enough to think and regroup. Now it merely seemed silly.

Well, I can take care of ‘ragged’ as soon as I can get to the market, she replied. It was not for nothing that she was the Heir to the wealthiest merchant House in Dawil… and she would need to see what state the family business was in after all these months… a full year she had spent in the Forest... What of your father, Squire Kefen? Or… your mother?

Kefen shook his head. Grimness did not sit well in his warm, brown eyes. My father would not object, even if he could. But he – and my family – are dead. At the hands of Henig.

The young woman wasn’t sure what – if anything – she could say to that, but it explained some of his strange intensity at hearing her name. Clearly the only person in the Realm who had been unaware that she was being sought for was herself. And just as clearly, Kefen was not at all loath to be able to seek justice for his family as well.

Well, the market will have to wait, Ivan said after an uncomfortable moment. As His Majesty’s newest Squire, we need to make you known to the Master of the Knights’ Training Academy, Sir Felerico Ironstar.

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Ironically, of all those who might have been least pleased with her appointment, the King’s Master of Knights was actually rather curious about her. Apparently, he had been interested for some time in how a woman would hold up in modern knightly training, having fought against and beside various female mercenaries from other Realms. It had seemed an odd exclusion to him that Dawil had no women knights, since women were not excluded from other areas of public life, even to serving in the general army and urban peacekeeping forces.

You’re starting late, girl, he told her, meeting with her in his office, his entire demeanor blunt but friendly. We’ll have to see what you can do before I can gauge whether we can meet His Majesty’s goals for you. The Master of Knights was a stocky, mustachioed man in late middle-age, dark-brown hair going to dark-grey more as a change of shade than color.

Karana shrugged. Whatever I can learn, Master, I’ll do it if it will mean I go to the Evil Wizard with my hand on a blade rather than chains on my wrists. At least I’ll have a chance.

He gave her a reproving look. Those two young men are now your Bound Companions. If you can’t be knighted, neither can they, and they have worked for some six years each to earn their shields already. We don’t usually Bind Companions until a little later on. Kefen and Ivan were loitering outside his office, waiting for her.

The young woman frowned. So, His Majesty just appointed them as my tutors? No wonder the blonde one looks so out of sorts.

Master Felerico chuckled. No, that’s just Ivan. He always has that sardonic expression, save when he’s romancing some noblemaiden. Don’t take him lightly, though. He’s on his way to being one of the finest swordsmen in the Realm. The master’s own reputation with a sword named him in the top three himself, so he should know.

And the other? she asked.

The master looked past her shoulder at the pair with a tolerant smile. Where you find Ivan, you also find Kefen. He’s also a fine swordsman, by the way. But he’s lazy. He gave her a piercing look and stroked the curling mustaches that were also shading from dark-brown to dark-grey. You could do worse than to have that pair have such an incentive to see you learn what you need to – and emerge from the training unscathed.

She raised an eyebrow. "So, they’re to be my protectors as well as my tutors? They should be more than annoyed by this... this tying of their fates to mine. Karana resisted the urge to look over her shoulder and through the open door at them. Why aren’t they? Am I not displacing some other friend of theirs?"

Master Felerico gave her a wry look. They’ve just been told they get to spend the next two years – and possibly beyond – in the company of a lovely young woman instead of another boy. I don’t think they’re all that focused on the academic considerations yet.

Yet. Which meant she needed to make sure they had no cause to regret her inclusion in their trio.

Now, there’s practical matters, Master Felerico went on. The squires each have their own room, but it won’t do for you to be mixed in amongst the rest as if you’re just another boy. And I’ll want Kefen and Ivan’s quarters close to yours – yes, as your protectors, he told her as she frowned. You’re to study only in the library, not in each others’ rooms, but they’ll be sure no one else impugns your reputation.

That was the last consideration on her mind right now.

Usually, the noble Houses pay the costs for their sons to attend this academy, the master was continuing, but it sounds like the Crown may be picking up your expenses. Hush, he waved a hand at her. I know you can handle your own expenses, being who you are. But plenty of nobles aren’t flush with wealth and you’d do well not to let the other squires realize yours. You’ll need specialized uniforms, of course, since ours are made to fit boys... He eyed her starvation-thin form. Though that may not be an issue to start with.

Do you have a list of what I need? Karana asked, ignoring the look. She’d fed herself as best she could in the Forest, and she’d survived. I need to get in to the Tallspire Metreedi House as soon as I can anyways to let them know I’m alive. I can hand them the list – and if His Majesty wants to pick up the tab, he can repay me later.

Master Felerico pulled out a fresh piece of paper and began noting down items. I’ve no doubt you can procure these things faster than the royal tailors and cobblers can decide what to do about a squire’s uniform for a woman. You probably don’t know anything about choosing a sword...? He gave her a raised eyebrow.

She shrugged. I’ve chosen fighting knives before. I know about quality in steel. And balance.

Hmmn. Nonetheless. Take at least one of those boys with you when you visit a weaponsmith. He nodded firmly, blowing lightly on the page to dry the ink before folding it to hand to her. I’ll see to what needs to be handled here so that you can settle in this evening. I’ll test you myself tomorrow to see where we can place you in classes. He gave her a wry look. You’ll likely not need what we provide in academics – save perhaps military strategy – but egos must be appeased and you’ll have to sit through the classes just the same.

All learning is valuable, Karana said equably.

Master Felerico shook his head. I knew your father and mother, girl. I’ve small doubt that if Devin Metreedi made you his Heir, you’re well prepared academically. It will be your skill at arms where we’ll need to work. He gave her another wry smile. In the end, it’s a squire’s skill at arms – most particularly swordwork, both mounted and afoot – that determines whether a man earns his shield. For a woman... it will have to be the same.

She gave him a nod. Swordwork is new to me, sir.

You’ll have no bad habits to unlearn then. Go on, girl. Take that list and get what you need.

So, it was with the blessing of Master Felerico that Karana had hastened to take care of family business and to be properly outfitted. And it was he who found the most appropriate set of quarters for all three new Companions – where neither her safety nor her honor could be impugned, but where they could all work and study together.

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Cousin Isarella, the Head of the Tallspire branch of Karana’s merchant House was relieved to see her, horrified to hear her tale, and baffled at her new status. However, she was more than willing to outfit the young woman in proper clothing for her new endeavor while Karana wrote letters to the anch-House Heads in other cities and Mitael, the cousin who had been charged with running the business during the trip that had gone so wrong.

Kefen and Ivan looked slightly uncomfortable, waiting and nibbling on pastries as she went through all of this, but they said no word of complaint. Cousin Isarella had looked somewhat startled to meet them, and given Karana a sharp look, but had sent for refreshments immediately. Both young men insisted that Karana eat before they would take anything themselves, pointing out that she clearly needed it more, earning themselves an approving nod from the older woman and rolled eyes from the young one.

To set things off on the right foot, Karana offered to fill any needs that Kefen and Ivan had as well. She was well aware that she was dependent on their goodwill if she was to reach her goals.

They demurred at first, but at last accepted small tokens on learning that the Tallspire business had on hand some extremely high-quality steel. As they were looking over the display of blades that had been brought in from Amberdia, Ivan handed her a sword with a wavy pattern in the folded steel of its length and a plain, wire-bound hilt.

"This is the one you want," he said firmly, for once not a hint of irony in his tone or his bright, blue eyes.

"Ivan, you barely picked that