Post by Shhasow on Nov 15, 2010 11:37:53 GMT 10
Unwelcome Surprise
Summary: The new page is coming to the palace. Wyldon is not amused.
Rating: G
Part 2 of 9 (so far)
Huge thanks to Ankhiale for beta-ing!
_______
Angry footsteps echoed through the stone corridors, announcing the great displeasure of the walker and immediate disembowelment to any page foolish enough to draw his attention, or at least armory duty until Midwinter.
Returning pages who saw him scrambled to get out of his sight, uncaring about losing their dignity, for they decided that discretion was the better part of valor. No one could remember seeing their training master so close to losing control as he was then, eyes nearly lost under a lowered brow, jaw clenched, mouth tightened to a thin line as he strode away from his office.
The clear-minded who were close enough had seen the king exit gracefully just before Lord Wyldon, and the Lioness storm out in a similar rage – if more obvious and accompanied with gesticulating and muffled curses - a few minutes earlier.
Wyldon wanted to hit something, anything. If his arm weren’t in a sling, he would be headed towards the tilting yards, hitting the dummies hard enough to crack them.
As it was, he could practice swordplay, albeit awkwardly, but it was not physical enough. He wanted to break something.
It had finally happened, the day he had been dreading for years had finally come.
A girl was coming to the palace to train for her knighthood.
After ten years, he had hoped that no one would step forward. The first female page would face a daunting task, subject to slander, suspicion, and scrutiny. Besides, nobles would rather save their girls for advantageous marriages rather than let them train with arms, grow muscle, and scar themselves in some ill-conceived foolish crusade for equality.
Not that proper females had any such inclination, or if they did, they waited for the proper outlet for unfeminine desires and joined the Queen’s Riders. If their masculine tendencies continued to age 15, then let them join the irregular troops created by that foreign savage and the unorthodox Queen. Their presence galled him, but since he never had to work with the mixed-sex troops, Wyldon was generally successful in ignoring their existence.
Who was this Keladry of Mindelan? What made her different than the rest?
The king had mentioned her family’s importance to the Yamani peace treaty and the girl’s prior training. Was it possible that this was the girl from years ago?
Possible, but unlikely and unimportant. Any girl was trouble.
And why did the king push this on him now? Why now indeed, a mere month after the barrier between the realms was reestablished; didn’t they have enough to do with cleaning up that mess? Why add another complication of a female in arms when the king insisted on foisting all those blasted reforms onto a recovering populace, their worlds already undone by the appearance of monstrous creatures?
They already had an unstable female as champion, and Wyldon’s scowl deepened at the thought.
The Lioness, indeed.
If the Lioness hadn’t been there, he might have argued with His Majesty King Jonathon instead of merely making threats. As it was, the hot-tempered woman did half of his job for him. Surely she realized that by snapping and growling at the king – like her vaunted epithet - the ruler was forced to set her down, to side with Wyldon himself?
Not that Wyldon cared what that Bazhir-consorting savage thought, or did not think. She disgraced her rank and position with her lightning temper, just another example of the inferiority of women in arms.
It was enough to make a man wish for more peaceful days before this progressive king and his powerful – admittedly intelligent, if misguided – cronies.
The training master was forced to accept the girl, forced to train her for a year and pretend she was equal to the boys, but there was nothing anyone could say if she quit on her own.
He stopped suddenly, his terrible mood suddenly lightened.
Of course. Why hadn’t he considered it before?
Wyldon saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and whirled around. Three pages stood near, his favored pupil along with two cohorts.
“Joren of Stone Mountain. Vinson of Genlith. Garvey of Runnerspring.”
They bowed respectfully and with a tinge of fear as they murmured polite greetings.
An impulse struck the training master and he grabbed it immediately
without further consideration. “Stone Mountain,” he barked, gratified when the blonde jumped slightly but quickly mastered himself. That was the control of a knight, and Wyldon approved. “All three of you, I received good reports on your conduct and actions in the recent conflict. You are a testament to your training.”
They bowed again, gratefully accepting the compliment, it being rare that he deigned to give more than “not terrible,” or “acceptable.”
Wyldon drummed his fingers lightly on his cast. “I suppose you have learned of our new arrival.”
Joren glanced at his friends and spoke for the group. “My lord, I know there is a rather large group of first year pages, but-“
“A girl, Stone Mountain. We are getting a girl.”
The looks of horror and shock on their faces merely confirmed what he already knew. A female would cause discord and chaos among proper pages.
“My lord, are you sure?” asked Vinson tentatively.
Wyldon favored him with a chilling glare. Of course he was accurate. “I recently came from a meeting with his majesty, Genlith.”
There, the hint was dropped, when combined with his foreboding expression, that this was a royal command outside of his control.
“Then she will be trained without reservations, my lord?” Joren asked. Sharp lad.
“She has probationary status for the first year, at which time I will assess her capabilities and either discontinue her training or let her continue,” he stared meaningfully into Joren’s eyes, “unless she quits beforehand.”
The blonde youth nodded slowly. Message received.
The three were dismissed and Lord Wyldon decided to walk on to the curtain wall, overall in a better mood. Fresh air and a long run would clear his head, restore his equilibrium.
He would judge the girl as fairly as he knew. She would have to measure up to and surpass the boys, as well as have a capable head on her shoulders, but if she stood out as exemplary with the proper composure necessary for a knight, she would stay.
Not that she would last that long. Burchard of Stone Mountain was one of his strongest allies at court and a notorious conservative, and he had passed his proper principles down to his eldest son.
Wyldon would watch Joren and make sure he was properly chivalrous and observant of the code, but the traditional hazing of first years would not be waived. Indeed, he had every hope of the opposite. Joren would not fail.
Lord Wyldon would not give the girl two weeks before she packed her bags.
Besides, if she managed to outlast the boy, then perhaps she deserved to stay.
A trickle of a thought came to him of that encounter years ago with the determined young girl. What was that he had sworn, that he would deny female pages until dragons flew over Tortall?
Well, that would teach him not to make promises he could not keep.
Summary: The new page is coming to the palace. Wyldon is not amused.
Rating: G
Part 2 of 9 (so far)
Huge thanks to Ankhiale for beta-ing!
_______
Angry footsteps echoed through the stone corridors, announcing the great displeasure of the walker and immediate disembowelment to any page foolish enough to draw his attention, or at least armory duty until Midwinter.
Returning pages who saw him scrambled to get out of his sight, uncaring about losing their dignity, for they decided that discretion was the better part of valor. No one could remember seeing their training master so close to losing control as he was then, eyes nearly lost under a lowered brow, jaw clenched, mouth tightened to a thin line as he strode away from his office.
The clear-minded who were close enough had seen the king exit gracefully just before Lord Wyldon, and the Lioness storm out in a similar rage – if more obvious and accompanied with gesticulating and muffled curses - a few minutes earlier.
Wyldon wanted to hit something, anything. If his arm weren’t in a sling, he would be headed towards the tilting yards, hitting the dummies hard enough to crack them.
As it was, he could practice swordplay, albeit awkwardly, but it was not physical enough. He wanted to break something.
It had finally happened, the day he had been dreading for years had finally come.
A girl was coming to the palace to train for her knighthood.
After ten years, he had hoped that no one would step forward. The first female page would face a daunting task, subject to slander, suspicion, and scrutiny. Besides, nobles would rather save their girls for advantageous marriages rather than let them train with arms, grow muscle, and scar themselves in some ill-conceived foolish crusade for equality.
Not that proper females had any such inclination, or if they did, they waited for the proper outlet for unfeminine desires and joined the Queen’s Riders. If their masculine tendencies continued to age 15, then let them join the irregular troops created by that foreign savage and the unorthodox Queen. Their presence galled him, but since he never had to work with the mixed-sex troops, Wyldon was generally successful in ignoring their existence.
Who was this Keladry of Mindelan? What made her different than the rest?
The king had mentioned her family’s importance to the Yamani peace treaty and the girl’s prior training. Was it possible that this was the girl from years ago?
Possible, but unlikely and unimportant. Any girl was trouble.
And why did the king push this on him now? Why now indeed, a mere month after the barrier between the realms was reestablished; didn’t they have enough to do with cleaning up that mess? Why add another complication of a female in arms when the king insisted on foisting all those blasted reforms onto a recovering populace, their worlds already undone by the appearance of monstrous creatures?
They already had an unstable female as champion, and Wyldon’s scowl deepened at the thought.
The Lioness, indeed.
If the Lioness hadn’t been there, he might have argued with His Majesty King Jonathon instead of merely making threats. As it was, the hot-tempered woman did half of his job for him. Surely she realized that by snapping and growling at the king – like her vaunted epithet - the ruler was forced to set her down, to side with Wyldon himself?
Not that Wyldon cared what that Bazhir-consorting savage thought, or did not think. She disgraced her rank and position with her lightning temper, just another example of the inferiority of women in arms.
It was enough to make a man wish for more peaceful days before this progressive king and his powerful – admittedly intelligent, if misguided – cronies.
The training master was forced to accept the girl, forced to train her for a year and pretend she was equal to the boys, but there was nothing anyone could say if she quit on her own.
He stopped suddenly, his terrible mood suddenly lightened.
Of course. Why hadn’t he considered it before?
Wyldon saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and whirled around. Three pages stood near, his favored pupil along with two cohorts.
“Joren of Stone Mountain. Vinson of Genlith. Garvey of Runnerspring.”
They bowed respectfully and with a tinge of fear as they murmured polite greetings.
An impulse struck the training master and he grabbed it immediately
without further consideration. “Stone Mountain,” he barked, gratified when the blonde jumped slightly but quickly mastered himself. That was the control of a knight, and Wyldon approved. “All three of you, I received good reports on your conduct and actions in the recent conflict. You are a testament to your training.”
They bowed again, gratefully accepting the compliment, it being rare that he deigned to give more than “not terrible,” or “acceptable.”
Wyldon drummed his fingers lightly on his cast. “I suppose you have learned of our new arrival.”
Joren glanced at his friends and spoke for the group. “My lord, I know there is a rather large group of first year pages, but-“
“A girl, Stone Mountain. We are getting a girl.”
The looks of horror and shock on their faces merely confirmed what he already knew. A female would cause discord and chaos among proper pages.
“My lord, are you sure?” asked Vinson tentatively.
Wyldon favored him with a chilling glare. Of course he was accurate. “I recently came from a meeting with his majesty, Genlith.”
There, the hint was dropped, when combined with his foreboding expression, that this was a royal command outside of his control.
“Then she will be trained without reservations, my lord?” Joren asked. Sharp lad.
“She has probationary status for the first year, at which time I will assess her capabilities and either discontinue her training or let her continue,” he stared meaningfully into Joren’s eyes, “unless she quits beforehand.”
The blonde youth nodded slowly. Message received.
The three were dismissed and Lord Wyldon decided to walk on to the curtain wall, overall in a better mood. Fresh air and a long run would clear his head, restore his equilibrium.
He would judge the girl as fairly as he knew. She would have to measure up to and surpass the boys, as well as have a capable head on her shoulders, but if she stood out as exemplary with the proper composure necessary for a knight, she would stay.
Not that she would last that long. Burchard of Stone Mountain was one of his strongest allies at court and a notorious conservative, and he had passed his proper principles down to his eldest son.
Wyldon would watch Joren and make sure he was properly chivalrous and observant of the code, but the traditional hazing of first years would not be waived. Indeed, he had every hope of the opposite. Joren would not fail.
Lord Wyldon would not give the girl two weeks before she packed her bags.
Besides, if she managed to outlast the boy, then perhaps she deserved to stay.
A trickle of a thought came to him of that encounter years ago with the determined young girl. What was that he had sworn, that he would deny female pages until dragons flew over Tortall?
Well, that would teach him not to make promises he could not keep.