Page 160 of The Sun King's Noon

“I shall be plain with you. I am, in fact, the king. And I am informed by Sir Joffrey that my dungeons are in excellent condition. They include, I am told, a particular cell reserved for small persons who fail to behave themselves and wander off from their masters.”

Joffrey rumbled, “Oh aye, Your Majesty. The cell is just waiting for its new persons.” He winked at the triplets. “Rats in ‘em the size of small dogs. They like to chew on naughty little boys’ toes.”

The triplets blanched, clutching each other and hurriedly reaching for Daisy, too. The girl was eating boiled sweets from a bag and offered Richard one. He accepted and passed it to a bemused Kaelen.

“Jeya,” Richard said. “Show me the Shortman’s Cleave.”

She blinked. “Your Majesty?”

“The sword slice you used against the Baba Yaga.”

Flushing, Jeya drew the wooden blade. She batted the triplets and Daisy aside, then squared her feet and brought the sword down in a short, vicious arc, twisting her hip. Quick, neat, built to compensate for the lack of a right arm.

“Sir Joffrey?” Richard asked.

The old knight leaned forward in his saddle, squinting at the girl. “Well, I’ll be damned. That’s a proper Shortman’s Cleave,that is.” He nudged his horse closer to Jeya. “Who taught you, lass?”

“N-no one, sir.” Jeya shrugged and fiddled with the tip of her sword. “I—I’ve been watching some squires, sir. Been practising by myself.”

“That so?” Joffrey nodded to Richard. “Aye, Your Majesty. She’ll do nicely.”

“Very well,” Richard said. “Jeya, you shall squire for Sir Kaelen.”

The girl’s hard mask cracked clean through to reveal teary eyes and a trembling lower lip. “Squire? Me?”

The circus folk cheered, and a couple of nearby men slapped her back. Her sword slid out of her hand, and Joffrey tutted.

“Best pick that up fast, lass! First lesson you learn. Never let go of your sword.”

Jeya scrambled for the blade and neared Kaelen. “You’ll take me on? Will you really?”

Kaelen recoiled, stuck in the middle of sucking the boiled sweet and glaring at Richard. “No. I do not take squires.” He snapped at Richard, “I will not have her.”

Richard raised a brow at the older man by Kaelen’s shoulder. “Is my word not law, Sir Joffrey?”

A grin split Joffrey’s beard. “Aye, Your Majesty. And this boy’d do well to remember it.” He nudged his boot into Kaelen’s ribs.

Kaelen jerked sideways with wounded outrage. “But Sir?—”

Joffrey addressed Clemens instead. “Bring the girl to the castle once you’ve reached High Ardenia. She’ll have a three-month trial under Sir Kaelen here. If she’s got the grit, she’ll stay. If not, Kaelen’ll send her back to you better taught than when she arrived. Aye?”

“Y-yes, Sir Knight,” Clemens stammered.

“I won’t be lacking,” Jeya blurted, desperation gleaming in her eyes. “I’ll be good, I will. I’ll be very good, Sir, I swear it—I can rise early and muck out horses and oil blades and polish boots and learn forms, and I don’t mind being shouted at, I don’t?—”

“Girl,” Kaelen said through his clenched jaw. “There are many better knights than me in High Ardenia?—”

“They ain’t gonna be taking me, I know it!” Jeya lunged to cling to Kaelen’s gauntlet. “Please, sir! There ain’t nothing better in the world than to squire for the great basilisk slayer?—”

“I am far from great, girl,” Kaelen snapped, wrenching his arm from her hold. He glowered at Richard. “Your Majesty, the evening is drawing on. If Your Majesty would do me the courtesy of resuming the journey?”

Richard smiled. For all of Kaelen’s protests, this squireship would do both him and Jeya some good.

“With pleasure, Sir Kaelen.”

Kaelen wrenched the carriage door open with a force that made the hinges shriek. He stood beside it, rigid, his hand on the latch.

Richard turned to the children one last time. The triplets and Daisy had gathered again around Jeya.