Tamora Pierce - Squire

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Being the first is the last thing they expect of you. The adventure continues in book three of the New York Times bestselling series from the fantasy author who is a legend herself: TAMORA PIERCE.   A powerful classic that is more timely than ever, the Protector of the Small series is about smashing the ceilings others place above you. WHEN THEY SAY YOU WILL FAIL… FAIL TO LISTEN. Keladry of Mindelan dreams of becoming squire to the legendary female knight Alanna the Lioness, a hero straight out of story. But Kel is chosen instead by Lord Raoul, a leader of men and a strategist – an unexpected honour that shocks her enemies. Kel must hone her skills and discover what it takes to be part of the royal guard. Part of a team. With this change comes another: a new romance, bringing with it the rush of first love and the unexpected challenges of balancing duty and love. All the while, Kel prepares for her biggest challenge: the infamous and terrifying Ordeal – the last challenge standing between her and knighthood. A powerful classic that is more timely than ever, the Protector of the Small series is about smashing the ceilings others place above you. In a landmark quartet published years before it’s time, Kel must prove herself twice as good as her male peers just to be thought equal. A series that touches on questions of courage, friendship, a humane perspective – told against a backdrop of a magical, action-packed fantasy adventure. ‘I take more comfort from and as great pleasure in Tamora Pierce’s Tortall novels as I do from Game of Thrones’Washington Post

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Kel nodded. She felt very odd, as if she occupied another girl’s body. Was he asking her out of pity? That would be almost as bad as service to a desk knight – though she’d still take the offer.

‘Once they get here, Chaos will swallow us,’ the man went on. ‘Their majesties plan to take the court on a Grand Progress – do you know what that is?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Kel replied. ‘Master Oakbridge, our etiquette teacher, talked about it all last year. It’s to show Princess Shinkokami to the realm, so people can see the heir’s future wife.’

Raoul nodded. ‘Which means a grand parade throughout the realm. Two mortal years of balls, tournaments, banquets, and other nonsense. Oh, some useful things will get done – they mean to survey the roads and hold a census, paper-shuffling, mostly. I have no problem with that, since I don’t have to do it. But fuss and feathers make my blood run cold.’

Kel’s lips quivered in the tiniest of smiles. The Knight Commander was infamous for dodging as many ceremonies as he could.

‘Servants and our standard-bearer won’t be enough when I have to deal with every jumped-up, self-important toady in the country.’ He thumped his knee with a fist the size of a small ham. ‘And I know nothing about the Yamanis. You lived six years at their court and speak the language.’

Enlightenment struck Kel like fireworks. He wasn’t taking her as a favour, or because he liked her, though that was nice. She would be useful to him, as no one else could!

‘I liked how you handled yourself when we hunted those spidrens, four years ago,’ Lord Raoul explained. ‘You knew when to speak up and when to be quiet. Wyldon and Myles of Olau say you don’t lose your temper. After your fight with bandits three years ago, I know you can keep your head in a fix. You’ll see plenty of combat with us. I’ll warn you, it’s more work than most squires get. Plenty of knights come here for the winter months, but the King’s Own goes where it’s needed, whatever the season. And we’ll be in the thick of all the progress antics. If you want out – if someone else you’d prefer has asked …’

Kel smiled at him. ‘I’m not afraid of work, my lord,’ she replied. ‘I would be honoured to be your squire.’

‘Good!’ he said, grabbing her hand and giving it two firm shakes, beaming at her. ‘Come down to our stables. You can bring the charmer.’ He nodded at Peachblossom. ‘He’s going to move there anyway, and I’d like you to have a look at a mare I think would suit you.’

As Kel scrambled to her feet, Raoul slung an arm around her shoulders and led her out of the yard. Kel made sure to hold out the hand that held Peachblossom’s rein, keeping the gelding on her far side, well out of reach of her new knight-master.

‘See, with the Own, everyone has at least one spare horse,’ Raoul said. They walked down one of the roads that crisscrossed the acres behind the palace. They were in an area of stables: those for couriers, heralds, and officers in the army, those for visitors, and those that served the King’s Own. ‘We live in the saddle. One horse isn’t up to all that. Your Peachblossom is heavy – you’ll need a horse with good wind and endurance to ride. You can keep Peachblossom for combat.’ He looked across Kel at the big gelding. ‘I asked Onua – horsemistress to the Queen’s Riders – to help me find a mount who could get on with your charming horsie.’

The ‘charming horsie’ snorted, as if he understood. Kel gave his reins a tug, a silent order to behave.

‘Here we are,’ Raoul said, taking his arm from Kel’s shoulders. The insignia over the door on this stable was familiar: a silver blade and crown on a blue field, the emblem of the King’s Own. Kel, Peachblossom, and Jump followed Raoul inside. The stable was big. There were three hundred men in the King’s Own: younger sons of nobles, wealthy merchants’ sons, and Bazhir from the Southern Desert. Each was required to supply two horses when he joined, though the company replaced those killed on duty. Kel eyed the ones in the stalls as she walked past. These were some of the kingdom’s finest mounts.

Once the Own had been a cozy assignment for wealthy young men who liked to look good and meet ladies with dowries. Under Lord Raoul it became the Crown’s weapon, enforcing the law and helping local nobles deal with problems too large to handle alone. Since the arrival of the strange creatures called immortals seven years before, enforcing the law and handling problems required every warrior the Throne could supply. Not all giants, ogres, centaurs, winged horses, and unicorns were peaceful; other, stranger creatures saw humans only as meals. Even those who did coexist with humans had to find homes, make treaties, and swear to obey the realm’s laws.

‘Here we go,’ Raoul said, halting. The glossy brown mare in front of them was a solid animal, smaller than Peachblossom. She had broad shoulders and deep hind quarters, feathery white socks, and a white star on her forehead. Kel hitched Peachblossom out of harm’s way, then approached the mare and offered a hand. The mare lowered her nose and blew softly on Kel’s palm.

‘Take a look at her,’ Raoul said. ‘Tell me what you think.’

Kel stepped into the stall to inspect the mare thoroughly, feeling as if this were a test, at least of her knowledge of horses. That made sense, if she was to spend time with some of the realm’s finest horsemen.

The mare’s eyes were clear, her teeth sound. She seemed affectionate, butting Kel in fun. Someone had groomed her; there were no burs or tangles in her black mane and tail, and her white socks were clean.

‘She’s beautiful,’ Kel said finally. ‘Looks like she’ll go forever. Not up to your weight, my lord.’ She smiled at the six-foot-four-inch Knight Commander, who grinned. ‘But she and I should do well.’ Jump crawled under the gate. He sniffed the mare’s hooves, as if conducting his own inspection. The horse turned her head, keeping the dog under observation, but she seemed to have no objection.

‘Very good,’ Raoul said. ‘As your knight-master, I give her to you, as is my obligation. What will you name her?’

Kel smiled at the mare, who lipped her new rider’s arm. ‘I’d like to call her Hoshi,’ she replied. ‘It’s Yamani for “star”.’ She touched the white star between the mare’s eyes.

‘Hoshi it is. Now, why don’t you settle Peachblossom there,’ Raoul nodded to the empty stall beside Hoshi’s, ‘while we discuss other details?’

Kel led Peachblossom into his new stall and unsaddled him. More than anything she wanted to run back to the iron door of the Chamber of the Ordeal and snap her fingers at it. You see, she wanted to tell it, not a desk knight after all!

Neal was out when Kel returned. She stood before his closed door, disappointed. None of her other friends among the first-year squires – Seaver, Esmond, and Merric – were in their rooms either. Her news must wait: she had to pack. Unlike her friends, she would not be returning to the squires’ wing most winters. She was to live in rooms adjoining the Knight Commander’s, in a palace wing closest to the barracks that housed the King’s Own.

She was explaining things to the sparrows who had adopted her when Jump and the birds raced for the open door. Neal walked in. He was dead white; his green eyes blazed.

‘Neal, what’s wrong?’ Kel asked.

He actually wrung his hands. ‘Sit down,’ he told Kel. ‘Please.’

Kel sat.

He paced for a moment. Jump looked at him and snorted; the sparrows found positions on Kel and the furniture to watch. Crown, the female who led the flock, lit on Neal’s shoulder. She rode there for a moment, then peeped loudly, as if telling him to speak.

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