with everyone, including civilians, who can hold a bow - or a spear.” The convicts chuckled. She went on, “If you have problems, or questions - officers, note this - you will see me every day. You must tell me. I won’t know anything if you don’t speak up, and if it’s something that can be fixed, I’d as soon fix it right away. You look at me and see I’m young. I look at me and see I’m young.” All of them laughed as their eyes remained fixed on her. “I have seen combat in my years as squire to the Knight Commander of the King’s Own. And I’m willing to learn more, if you will be my teachers.”
Kel took a deep breath. “That’s all I have to say. We’ll hammer the rest out as we build this haven for those who have lost their homes. Now I’ll let you go to your beds. Tomorrow comes soon.” She looked down, then had an idea. “Who’s the best woodworker here? Signs, and suchlike?”
There was a murmur among the civilians. They pointed at one man, a burly fellow with straggly red hair.
“First thing in the morning, will you make us a sign? It’s got to be large enough to be read across the river. It should carry the word ‘Haven’. No ‘fort’, just ‘Haven’. Because that’s what we are.” The man nodded as a pleased murmur swept through the room. “I thank you for your attention,” Kel said, and stepped off the crate.
The men began to rise from their benches. Brief words of welcome and greeting followed Kel as, limp with the release of tension, she walked back to the seated nobles. Tobe patted her arm awkwardly when she passed; she rested a hand on his bony shoulder. When Kel met Wyldon’s eyes, he nodded, once, in approval. Neal clapped her on the back; Merric punched her shoulder lightly; Dom bowed his head.
“Now all I have to do is live up to it,” she pointed out to her friends, and collapsed on to the bench.
15-23 April, 460 HE
The refugee camp on the Greenwoods River
5
CLERKS
The next day Kel rose before dawn and used the quiet time before sunrise to take her glaive outside, on to ground still hard from the night’s cold. There she practised, working her way through the complex pattern-dances that were actually combinations of strikes, blocks and feints, strung together so the warrior could work hard and long, building up strength and stamina with each step. When she finished, she cleaned the glaive thoroughly and stowed it in her tiny bedchamber. After that she went to the mess hall, where the morning cooks had started breakfast. As they stirred porridge and fried ham, and set out bowls of honey, plates of bread and pitchers of milk, Kel planned her day.
Baird, Wyldon, Merric and Elbridge took their breakfast in headquarters with Owen to serve them. Neal staggered to the cookhouse after the dawn trumpet sounded. “Figured you’d be here,” he said, yawning, as he slumped on to the bench across from her. Tobe, then Dom arrived shortly after he did.
Wyldon, Elbridge and Owen rode north after breakfast, taking the extra soldiers and several wagons of supplies on to the new fort, Mastiff. Before they left, Wyldon and Kel settled on a schedule of meetings and messages so they would keep up-to-date with one another.
Once the district commander, his squire and the captain had gone, Haven’s residents learned their officers ate, not in headquarters, as the captain had, but at the mess hall: Baird and Merric joined Kel and Neal on that second day. Once everyone was at least half-awake they would discuss the day’s schedule, making plans so they didn’t interfere with each other’s work.
Kel’s first act was to put herself on all the work lists: cooking, washing up, latrine duty, laundry at the river, guard detail and patrols. This was something she’d learned from Raoul: if the commander did something, very few would object to doing the same job. The only lists she did not put herself on were hunting and fishing: they were popular with everyone in camp. Whatever
Kel took a deep breath. “That’s all I have to say. We’ll hammer the rest out as we build this haven for those who have lost their homes. Now I’ll let you go to your beds. Tomorrow comes soon.” She looked down, then had an idea. “Who’s the best woodworker here? Signs, and suchlike?”
There was a murmur among the civilians. They pointed at one man, a burly fellow with straggly red hair.
“First thing in the morning, will you make us a sign? It’s got to be large enough to be read across the river. It should carry the word ‘Haven’. No ‘fort’, just ‘Haven’. Because that’s what we are.” The man nodded as a pleased murmur swept through the room. “I thank you for your attention,” Kel said, and stepped off the crate.
The men began to rise from their benches. Brief words of welcome and greeting followed Kel as, limp with the release of tension, she walked back to the seated nobles. Tobe patted her arm awkwardly when she passed; she rested a hand on his bony shoulder. When Kel met Wyldon’s eyes, he nodded, once, in approval. Neal clapped her on the back; Merric punched her shoulder lightly; Dom bowed his head.
“Now all I have to do is live up to it,” she pointed out to her friends, and collapsed on to the bench.
15-23 April, 460 HE
The refugee camp on the Greenwoods River
5
CLERKS
The next day Kel rose before dawn and used the quiet time before sunrise to take her glaive outside, on to ground still hard from the night’s cold. There she practised, working her way through the complex pattern-dances that were actually combinations of strikes, blocks and feints, strung together so the warrior could work hard and long, building up strength and stamina with each step. When she finished, she cleaned the glaive thoroughly and stowed it in her tiny bedchamber. After that she went to the mess hall, where the morning cooks had started breakfast. As they stirred porridge and fried ham, and set out bowls of honey, plates of bread and pitchers of milk, Kel planned her day.
Baird, Wyldon, Merric and Elbridge took their breakfast in headquarters with Owen to serve them. Neal staggered to the cookhouse after the dawn trumpet sounded. “Figured you’d be here,” he said, yawning, as he slumped on to the bench across from her. Tobe, then Dom arrived shortly after he did.
Wyldon, Elbridge and Owen rode north after breakfast, taking the extra soldiers and several wagons of supplies on to the new fort, Mastiff. Before they left, Wyldon and Kel settled on a schedule of meetings and messages so they would keep up-to-date with one another.
Once the district commander, his squire and the captain had gone, Haven’s residents learned their officers ate, not in headquarters, as the captain had, but at the mess hall: Baird and Merric joined Kel and Neal on that second day. Once everyone was at least half-awake they would discuss the day’s schedule, making plans so they didn’t interfere with each other’s work.
Kel’s first act was to put herself on all the work lists: cooking, washing up, latrine duty, laundry at the river, guard detail and patrols. This was something she’d learned from Raoul: if the commander did something, very few would object to doing the same job. The only lists she did not put herself on were hunting and fishing: they were popular with everyone in camp. Whatever
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