She smiled and held out her hand. Another one of those streams of sparkling motes of light appeared vaguely in the shape of a sword, then mostly in the shape of a sword—and then a sword manifested out of them before vanishing in a little poof. “None whatsoever,” Bianca replied. “I’ve been known to prefer the sword to the wand many times.”
“I’d really like that,” I said fervently. There were female knights—not many of them, and there were none in our Court at the moment, but they did exist. It wasn’t as if I was going to be something entirely unheard of. And, to be honest, that had been one of the things I was going to ask Papa about—to let me train with the squires.
And it looked as if Papa had made up his mind.
“Very well then,” Papa said, with a firm nod. “We’ll give her every weapon to defend herself and her sister that the mortals or the Fae can muster. Mornings, Miri, you’ll train with the squires. Afternoons with the godmothers. Let this be my official decree, and let no one interfere on pain of punishment.”
Mama clutched his arm but didn’t object. The Clerk of the Court scribbled it all down. The godmothers looked pleased, the other Fae on the Council a little dubious but not so much that they were going to disagree.
Only the Archbishop looked unperturbed. He placed one hand on my head. “You have a brave soul, a kind heart, and a good mind, Miri. You have my blessing.”
Somehow that settled things for me, and I felt the decision drop into place inside me. I was still scared of all of this, but it felt right. I sighed.
CHAPTER THREE
A FEW DAYS LATER, I WAS JOLTED OUT OF SLEEP BY THE SOUND of my curtains being yanked unceremoniously open. Sunlight streamed in my window, smacking me in the face and making quite sure that I was thoroughly awake. “Time to get up,” Belinda said sourly, staring down at me with a scowl. “Your knight training starts in an hour.”
I jumped out of bed and quickly put on the garments she laid out grudgingly, handling each one as if it were poisoned—slightly baggier breeches than the boys wore made of brown moleskin, a loose cream linen shirt not unlike a farmer’s smock, brown boots, and a matching wide belt. Then, at Belinda’s abrupt gesture to sit, I took a seat on the little stool from my dressing table, and she pulled all my hair up onto the top of my head and coiled it into a bun and pinned it in place. And she didn’t do it gently, either. Every inch of her radiated how much she disapproved of what I was doing, and I did not care. As soon as she was done with me, I bolted out of my room to the stairs. She could work out her bad temper on something else.
I ran down to the kitchen; had a quick breakfast there of warm bread and butter, milk, and an egg; and pelted for the Knights’ Yard as fast as my legs would carry me, reveling in the freedom of my new clothing. I wonder how much of a fit Belinda would throw if I decided to wear this instead of gowns except when I really had to? But I knew the answer, of course. It probably wouldn’t be worth the way she’d loom over me every chance she got like a disapproving storm cloud. I wish Aurora were old enough to do without a nurse and get Belinda for her governess. Belinda and I were like fire and tinder. We would never agree, and we’d always be in conflict. But Mama would never turn her out because where would she go? She was too set in her ways to go to a new household.
When I got to the yard, there were five people there already. Giles, two boys I didn’t know about his age and height, and two of the younger maids of honor, Susanna and Raquelle, who were about my age and height, and whom most of us called Anna and Elle. They were all wearing pretty much what I was wearing.
I didn’t know most of the maids of honor, but I did know Anna and Elle. I liked them; I’d wished over the year that I’d been here that we didn’t keep going in opposite directions all the time. But they had their duties to their mothers; when a lady was living at Court, she couldn’t have all the personal servants she’d have in her own manor, so daughters were expected to serve as their mothers’ personal maids. And if you had a surfeit of girls, you loaned out your eldest to ladies who didn’t have daughters. That built alliances between families, got girls at least familiar in passing with eligible boys, and was supposed to help keep Court politics from getting out of hand.
I’d had what I thought was a good idea after the godmothers had left. I was going to need someone to train with, someone on my level, which would ordinarily mean the humiliating fate of training with the little pages. But if I could get four or five others from the Court who were about my age and lacked experience—that would be different. Plus, they’d be a lot of help. We’d be Aurora’s special bodyguards. Maybe I could even get them weapons and armor that were good against magic.
Papa had agreed and said that he’d make sure it happened before I started training. And, as always, Papa kept his promise.
Just then Sir Delacar came strolling out of the Knights’ Tower toward us. He was going to be my trainer? My heart fell. He was the fattest knight we had, and as far as I knew, he didn’t do much or ask much of his squires. Even Belinda looks more like a knight than he does.
But then he opened his mouth, and when he spoke, the authority in his voice startled me so much that I found myself obeying him automatically.
“Squires!” he barked. “Form up!”
And we all jumped and arranged ourselves in a straight line. He nodded with approval.
“You cubs are too young to remember,” he said. “But I was the squires’ trainer until I gave the job over to Sir Larimer. I trained your father, young Miriam, and I trained the King. The King asked me to do the same for you.” He paused significantly. “But I won’t.”
I gaped at him, and I wasn’t the only one. Was he defying Papa’s orders?
“I’m going to train you all differently,” he continued. “The way I should have trained young Geniver in the first damn place.” His voice got a little rough, as if he was holding back emotion. “I made the mistake of training him like a knight. Honor and rules and chivalry. Pretty jousting and swordplay meant for tournaments, not the battlefield. We hadn’t had a war in decades, and I never thought—well, leave it at that. I didn’t think. Jousting manners are all very well for people like His Majesty and me, but it won’t do for you. It will not do. I’m training you like fighters. Every trick and no rules. Miriam, you asked for companions, and I’ve asked these five if they would volunteer, and they’ve agreed; I believe they are all smart and quick to pick up on training. You’ll all be trained in the filthiest of dirty fighting because Aurora’s enemies will be; they’ll give you no quarter, and you should learn to fight like cornered badgers. I made a mistake in how I trained Geniver. I am never making that mistake again.”
His voice caught for a moment and he blinked rapidly. Then he straightened and went back to being the authority he’d been when he walked out of the Knights’ Tower. “The King has charged me with making the six of you into not just good fighters but a unit, people who know how to fight together. And together you’ll be called Aurora’s Companions. Now let’s go to the armory. The first thing to do is get you all fitted up in your practice armor.”
So off we went in a straight line, following Sir Delacar like chicks following a big fat hen. When we got to the armory, Delacar took us to the part where all the practice gear was and opened three chests. From these, he took heavily padded canvas tunics and loose trews, held them up to us, and shoved them in our arms when he was satisfied that they were going to fit. Then he went rummaging in a box on a shelf and handed us girls each a long canvas band that looked like a bandage.