First Year (10 page)

Read First Year Online

Authors: Rachel E. Carter

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance

BOOK: First Year
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So I stayed. Math and Crown law were beyond comprehension at that point, as was geography with all of its confusing maps, so I chose a history scroll instead. It was the right choice. Almost like a storybook in narration, the long and detailed accounts of Jerar’s fighting mages helped retain my focus into the late hours of the night.

Our last war had been ninety years ago, but the book’s breakdown of battle strategy made me feel as though I was a part of it now. There were so many things I had never considered, aspects of battle that I had thought were reserved only for the knights of our kingdom. I’d had no idea how involved the planning was behind our army’s attacks.
Silly me,
I had always assumed victory just came down to how much power a nation’s mages had.

I had just started reading about a particularly bloody battle when I heard a stifled yawn downstairs. Taking that as my cue, I packed up my work and stood by the rail to watch for Darren’s departure. As soon as he left I would follow.

I had barely shifted the books in my arms when my quill dropped. It echoed unsettlingly down the stairs, and Darren jerked his head upward in my direction. He didn’t ask who was there, but he did get up to investigate. Rather than waiting for him to find me, I gave up my hiding place and started down the ladder.

Settling onto the first floor, I turned to find Darren standing with a palm full of light in one hand and a stunned expression on his face.

“You?” he rasped.

“You’re not the only one who wants to get ahead,” I told him curtly. Then, because I couldn’t help it, I added: “You know, us 
commoners
, not all of us are just here to ‘socialize and talk about feelings.’”

Darren’s eyes flashed dangerously. For a moment it looked like shame had crossed those cold, fathomless features, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. Then it was just the two of us staring for an uncomfortable moment: me, aware of my ragged, manure-tinged appearance, and Darren, looking as inscrutable as ever.

Sighing, I broke his gaze and squeezed my way past.

I was almost to the door when he cleared his throat loudly.

“Wait—”

I paused and looked to the non-heir:
What could he possibly want now?
 

“Don’t take the right hall,” Darren said abruptly. “Barrius had Frederick patrolling there last night.”

“A-alright.” The confusion must have shown on my face because a second later Darren’s eyes narrowed in their familiar condescension.

“The last thing I need is for you to get caught and make it harder for me to come here at night.”

The abrupt change of tone cut like a knife. Of course,
this
was the person I had been expecting all along. “My furthest intention,” I assured the prince dryly.

He just stared, eyes dark and unreadable, and I hurried out the door in the direction of the women’s barracks. As I was crossing the field, I saw a hooded figure stealthily approaching the men’s, and I knew Darren had retired for the night as well.

Lucky for him, however, the non-heir’s routine did not have him taking a freezing bath at such an ungodly hour. I tried to be careful not to make any noise as I scrubbed the stable stench from my hair and skin, but it was impossible to keep completely quiet with the water sloshing around.

Still, it appeared I was undiscovered as I crawled into my bed. The bell had long since tolled an hour past midnight, and once again I was asleep within seconds of hitting my pillow.

CHAPTER FIVE

The next two weeks flew past in a blur. No sooner had I crawled out of bed I was rushed to the dining hall with Ella in hopes of catching the last couple of minutes of the morning meal. Even then, I was too tired to do much else besides stare lifelessly ahead. The extra hours I was losing had started to take their toll, and it was all I could do to stay awake.

The only thing that made the experience worthwhile was catching sight of Darren across the hall. There was something gratifying about seeing the non-heir gripping a steaming mug with the same blood-shot eyes as me. He may have been better at hiding behind a steely composure, but there was no denying the fact he was just as miserable.

Alex and Ella at first wondered why I stayed behind studying each night, but it hadn’t been hard to convince them I needed the extra time to myself. Both of them knew how slow I was at learning some of the assignments. No one in the girl’s quarters even mentioned my absence. I think Ella was the only one who had noticed, but she kept it to herself.

Each day was filled with the same tedious coursework as the last. The bright side, of course, was that I was no longer behind. My assignments were always turned in complete, and I could tell from Master Eloise and Isaac’s approving remarks that I was no longer a disappointment. Mathematics was still a time-consuming ordeal, but with the extra two to three hours each night, I was easily gaining traction in the basics and moving on to more complex issues that dealt with warfare and Crown law instead.

It was a strange schedule, and a tiring one, but it seemed to be working. Still, I was beginning to wonder how much longer I’d be able to hold out. I was doing well in the first half of my day, but three weeks of sleep deprivation had weakened my performance in the remainder. I was lagging through Sir Piers’s drills and Master Cedric’s lessons, and while everyone else had started to improve, I was still as clumsy as the day I had started. To make matters worse,
everyone
had noticed.

The worst embarrassment had come today.

“What is wrong with you?”

I froze, cheeks burning as I tore off my blindfold. The entire class was silently staring. Priscilla of Langli stood in front of me, one large, red welt plastering the left side of her face. She was furious.

“Didn’t you hear me give the command to halt?” Sir Piers barked.

“I m-must have missed it.” I had been so exhausted I hadn’t heard anything other than the pounding in my head.

Priscilla she dropped her staff and stormed off in the direction of the armory.

Sir Piers eyed me distastefully. “If you can’t stay awake long enough to hear your commander give you an order, you shouldn’t be at this Academy—or anywhere near a weapon—in the first place.”

I nodded, eyes watering, and went to return my staff, avoiding my brother’s sympathetic gaze. It was harder to miss some of the comments of the others, however. Several of Priscilla’s friends were loudly telling anyone that would listen that my blunder had been an “attack of jealousy” since Priscilla was clearly the “leading female of our year.”

I met people’s stares with a glare of my own. Both Alex and Ella tried to talk to me after class, but I was too upset to listen to anything they had to say.

It seemed that no matter what I tried, it would never be enough. I didn’t have enough time to do everything the masters asked of me, and when I tried to make time, my work only suffered somewhere else.

My evening became progressively worse when I ran into Darren as he was leaving the dining commons. As soon as he spotted me, a grin spread across the non-heir’s face. He’d become less icy since we had started our late night studies, but it didn’t mean he had become any kinder.

“What?”

“Do you always attack the blind?” Darren asked, dark eyes filled with humor.

Several students nearby snickered, and my cheeks flushed.

“There’s a first time for everything,” I snapped. “Maybe I’ll try a prince next.”

“Ryiah!” Alex grabbed my wrist just before I could throw my tray at the arrogant halfwit. Darren laughed and sauntered off to join his table of admirers while I was left brimming with rage.

“What has gotten into you?”
my brother hissed.

“It’s not fair!” I growled, “I am going to fail this place—”

“Then let’s have you try something new, not challenge the royal family to a duel.” My twin draffed me back to the table with Ella and the rest of our study group.

“Did you just threaten a prince?” Ruth asked incredulously.

I stabbed at a cherry tomato on my plate. “Wouldn’t matter if I did. I can’t keep up with Piers’s drills to save my life. Darren would have disarmed me in a second.”

Alex glanced at Ella. “Anything you can do to help her, beautiful?” My friend scowled. “Am I or am I not the daughter of a knight?” “Does that mean yes?” I asked wearily.

Ella smiled wide. “For the girl that challenges princes, it is most definitely a yes.”

An hour later I met up with Ella at the armory for our first lesson. She was practicing some sort of complicated footwork when I arrived, much more advanced than what we had gone over in class.

“Thanks again,” I said as she stopped her routine to toss me a weighted staff.

Ella shrugged. “I should be doing this anyway. I need it after watching Piers sing that prince and his minions praises all week long.”

I laughed and matched Ella’s starting stance. “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

“It’s downright depressing,” she griped. “I grew up around weapons, and I’ve trained with them almost as often. At no point should people who grew up reciting their family trees be besting me at those drills… Hold that pose, Ryiah.”

My sore muscles protested as she adjusted my form. “Don’t I need a blindfold?”

The girl snorted. “Let’s not test your luck just yet.”

We began the drill again only to have her stop me again.

“What now?” I was unable to keep the exasperation from my tone.

“Stop being so tense!” she ordered. “If you don’t loosen up those muscles, you are going to strain something. You need to be relaxed and fluid when you block, like you are dancing.”

“I’ve never danced.”

“Well, like you are water then,” she said quickly. We began our practice again. “Really though, no dancing?”

“You wouldn’t have either if you saw what Demsh’aa had to offer.” I attempted a block and overcompensated, swinging wildly to my right.

Ella chuckled. “You’ll be doing this dance every day now.”

“I hope it works.”

We were practicing in the shade of the armory building, but the air was still thick with humidity. Flies swarmed about. I was almost tempted to use them for my target. At least then I’d get some satisfaction out of our endless drilling. I was so exhausted from parrying blow after blow. And after so many endless deflections, it didn’t matter that Ella was holding back. I could have been facing the great Sir Piers himself.

I took my turn leading the assault. “Will I really get better?”

“I know it doesn’t seem that way now,” Ella replied easily as she blocked, her voice a relaxed lull in contrast to my heavy gasps for air. “But all this—the soreness, even the fatigue—if you keep at it, it won’t come any easier, but you will improve.”

The burning ache in my side challenged her claim.

I swung a more concentrated pass, and for the first time it met its mark with a resounding smack. Ella actually faltered for a second, more from surprise than the weight of my blow.
Still,
it was an improvement.

“Pain is a sign you are working your body to its limits,” Ella continued as we kept on. “My dad always said that is why lowborns usually outperform nobility in battle.” She paused and remarked somewhat ironically, “Though you wouldn’t guess it here.” Ella lowered her staff and glanced up at the darkening sky, “Well, I guess that does it for today.”

I followed my friend to the armory to dispose of our weapons. My entire body ached, but for once I was comforted by the prospect.

“We’ve got about an hour left until they make us go back to our quarters,” I observed.

“Definitely not enough time to wash up if we want to catch up with the rest of our group.”

I eyed my friend skeptically. While she was certainly not sweetsmelling of peonies and fresh linen, her clothes were not nearly as sweat-stained as mine, and the light tint of perspiration on her forearms only highlighted her complexion. I looked like a sunburned rat dripping with sweat.

“Yes,” I said, fingering my tangled locks and trying not to breathe too deeply into my own stink, “that’ll certainly be a shame for some of us.”

That evening I spent hours pouring over my assignments, fighting fatigue and dreaming of my family back in Demsh’aa. I missed my old life. I missed my little brother’s jokes and my parents’ patience. I missed their support. It was nice to have Alex here, but I missed the easygoing life I had left behind. One where I was not a fumbling mishap among a crowd of prodigies.

When I saw the familiar flicker of light emerge from Darren’s first floor study, it only fueled my determination.

I am no fool.
I was not as incompetent as he and the rest of the school imagined.

I read about war mages that had fought tens of knights with a simple sweep of their staff, mages who had learned archery only to invoke a rain of razor sharp blades upon their rivals, mages who had studied the foundations of architecture and then sent their enemies’ castles crumbling to the ground.

It was time to train. Hard.

I had a robe to wear after all.

“Come on
, Ryiah, pay attention!”

“I am!” I groaned and deflected another blow, scrambling to get my defense up in time.

I barely managed.

“Again,” Ella shouted.

I made another mad attempt to defend myself.

And then another.

And then I cried out as my friend’s staff came into contact with my ribs, and I dropped my pole. I’d guessed wrong again.

“Once more, where am I coming from?” She held her stance, willing me to try and see what it was I had missed the first time.

I watched my friend closely, trying to figure out where her next strike would be. All signs pointed to a low upswing from the left, but I had made that mistake before, and my ribs were paying dearly for it now.

I frowned. Her shoulders were deceptively loose with her eyes drifting ever so slightly to my right, and her hands gripped the staff at a crooked angle. I had seen it all before. What was I missing?
Pay attention…
but to what?

Ella had spent enough time reminding me not to be too sure of myself. Any good opponent will try to trick you, she’d said. Anyone that practiced close range fighting would know the importance of deceit. Let your enemy think they’ve got you figured out, make it look like they can see where you’re coming—not too obvious, just enough so that they get cocky. If someone thinks they know your next move, they are more likely to let their guard down.

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