by Simon Archer
With a hold on Maria’s wrists, Alexie spun the girl so that her opponent’s arms were crossed in front of her, resembling a dance move more than anything. Then the instructor pulled Maria close to her chest, trapping her before kicking the back of Maria’s knees to force her to kneel. Before Maria could even struggle, Alexie shoved her to the floor face first, still with a solid grip on the girl’s arms. Maria’s elbows dug into her own stomach, and Alexie simply pulled.
The noblewoman’s hand flopped about helplessly, signaling her defeat, not that Alexie could see it.
“Do you concede?” Alexie asked with a sharp voice.
“Yes!” Maria grunted from the ground.
Before the rest of the word left her lips, Alexie released Maria, who chose to lay there for a moment and catch her breath. Alexie, admittedly, looked a little winded herself. She wiped her brow and offered Maria a hand.
“I got it, thank you,” Maria grunted.
The girl got to her feet, and she looked a positive mess. Her hair stuck up in all directions, curls flattened. Her fresh dress was coated in grass stains, and a patch of mud clung to her neck.
With an admirable level of elegance, Maria straightened her dress, brushed a stray strand out of her hair, and walked back to her place in line.
“Well done, Maria,” Alexie congratulated. “That was an excellent effort. A surprise attack is always a viable option.”
I stood gobsmacked by the sheer tenacity of the girl I once thought prissy.
“That will teach me to judge a book by its cover,” I murmured mainly to myself, but Em overheard me.
“Maria has never been what she appears,” Em commented. “It’s a spectacular talent of hers to surprise and go against the grain.”
“Em,” Alexie interrupted. “You are next.”
When Alexie called out the king’s cousin, the air stilled. Thick tension stalled the wind and sucked the breath from our lungs. The reason for the discomfort was obvious. None of us actually thought Alexie would challenge Em because of her condition. She arrived at training in a wheelchair, for Pete’s sake. It didn’t seem remotely fair.
I opened my mouth to say something, to protest the injustice of this, but Em placed a gentle hand on mine. The gesture quieted me.
Em rose to her feet, shaky and unstable. I tensed my arms, ready to catch her if she fell. But Em kept strong and wobbled her way to the ring. The silence followed in her wake, no one quite knowing what to say or do about the undoubtedly uncomfortable situation that was about to take place.
Alexie and Emerald faced one another. “You know, Emerald, that it would be unfair for me to treat you differently than anyone else.”
“I understand,” Em said with a stiff jaw and high head.
I furrowed my brow and fought back against the urge to reply in anger. Alexie’s logic made no sense. It was like asking a fish to climb a tree. It made sense given that type of test to a monkey or a squirrel, but a fish couldn't be judged on the same level as those animals in the same test. Surely accommodations could be made. Had they never had a noble living with a disability be introduced to court before? Whatever Alexie might have thought, she was wrong. It would be unfair for her to test Em as she would everyone else.
I clenched my fists and my throat, holding back my arguments. A new determination spurred through me. I would fight for both myself and Em, giving Alexie the force of two opponents.
The two women bowed to one another, but it took Em a little long to stand upright again. There was the briefest of pauses before Alexie reeled back her arm, preparing a blow to Em’s shoulder.
Out of nowhere, Alexie slapped her own neck with a cry of pain. The next moment, she released another cry and fell to one knee. Her palm remained over the side of her neck, like covering a bleeding wound, except there was no blood to be found.
The group of observers surged forward, intrigued and horrified by the events unfolding before us. Em stood still and stoic over Alexie as she knelt before her, like a queen and her cowering subjects.
Finally, Alexie looked up at Em and offered her a disappointed smile. “Clever, Em, but unfortunately against the rules of this stage of the introduction process.”
Alexie stood, now her own legs shaky. She lifted her hand from her neck, revealing the source of her pain. A red welt swelled on her skin, peaking like a small volcano. At the center of the mark was a black stinger, no bigger than a needlepoint. I recognized the wound as a bee sting. I couldn’t help but chuckle at Em’s cleverness.
“Merkins are not allowed in the tournament,” Alexie announced. “And the use of gifts is prohibited. This is supposed to be strictly skill-based. As I did not preface this at the beginning of the training, I will let this one slide. I also have to compliment you on using your resources to your advantage, which shows a tactical mind.”
Em nodded her gratitude but didn’t say anything.
“I concede,” Alexie said with a sigh.
The two bowed at each other, and Em made her way back to her chair. There was a small smattering of applause as she sat down.
While clapping, I eyed Alexie. The woman’s ego was clearly wounded, but she barely let it show as she plucked the stinger from her neck and hiked up her skirt to examine the additional sting on the back of her leg.
“I don’t care what she says,” I told Em, “that was damn clever and well done.”
“Thanks,” Em said blandly. “It was a one time trick since I knew we weren’t going to be able to use Merkins. I will have to figure out something else on tournament day.”
“You could concede, you know,” I offered gently, “before anything actually happens.”
“And embarrass myself further in front of the whole court?” Em said with a stern expression. “Absolutely not. I will figure something out. I refuse to take their pity.”
“Look, Em,” I said. “Your cousin’s the king. Don’t you think he would make an exception just this once for you?”
“Like he made for you?” Em snapped. The girl I joshed with a couple of minutes ago was gone. Facing me now was a stern and hurt young woman with a burden I couldn’t begin to understand. I realized that I had offended her, and she was retaliating in anger.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly.
“You may have saved my life, Martin, but you do not know me,” Emerald whispered so low, it bordered on threatening.
“You’re right,” I admitted. “I don’t know you, and I shouldn’t have presumed anything. I’m sorry.”
“Martin!” Alexie called out. “Your turn.”
The madame seemed to have recovered from her latest attack. I approached the circle, intending to make it so she would need more than a few minutes to recover from me.
Despite my current anger at Alexie, I bowed respectfully. I widened my stance and readied myself.
Alexie came at me with a closed fist. I parried the attack, letting her fist side right past my head so that her elbow was right above my shoulder. As I put one hand on her outstretched forearm, I reached around with the other and grabbed her concealed hand, the one closest to her chest. With a flat palm, I pushed her arm away from me, causing her to turn.
Predictably, Alexie came at me with her left hand, but I dodged that punch by keeping a grip on her wrist and redirecting the punch downward. I slammed my free hand down on her neck and lifted her arm back behind her, forcing her to bend forward.
She grunted at the pressure I put on her arm as it twisted behind her back. She kicked at my shin and threw me off balance. I lost my grip on her arm, and she quickly slipped out of my grasp.
Now facing each other on opposite sides of the circle than we started, Alexie and I stared at each other with matching smiles. She knew now that I was a formidable opponent. I saw the shift, witnessed it in her eyes as she decided to kick it up a notch.
The instructor lunged for me with a straight arm aimed for my throat. She was trying to go for a choke and grapple me from behind. I quickly grabbed her forearm as
it lunged across my collarbone. With the heel of my hand, I knocked her elbow up while rotating my body away from her, allowing me to wiggle under her arm and avoided the chokehold all together.
We spun to face one another. She attacked again with a one-two punch. I blocked with my forearms and then crouched my head low to avoid the second.
I managed to duck it completely as she swung over my head. I took the opportunity to strike her twice in the stomach, causing her to stumble back. She caught her balance and aimed a kick at my side, which I managed to push away.
We continued on like this for some time. Raining blows on one another while blocking other attempts to get a hit in. It wasn’t anything fancy. Both of us stuck to basic moves and training. Despite being equally matched, the biggest enemy right now was exhaustion. My stamina was waning, yet Alexie didn’t seem to notice. She looked like she could have kept going for another couple of hours. I had to do something fast and hard to have a chance of winning this match.
Alexie aimed a spin kick at my head, which I avoided with a duck. Too late, I noticed her other foot coming straight for me, and it collided with my temple. Stars bloomed in my eyes, and I toppled near the edge of the circle. However, instead of falling over, I righted myself with a grace I didn’t know I had.
With a flourish, I spun in a circle, lowering myself to the ground as I did so. I continued turning, tapping into that newfound grace and balance. I stuck out my leg and swept Alexie’s legs out from underneath her. She collapsed to the ground on her back.
Quickly, I stood and dashed to stand over her. I stepped on top of her chest with one foot and held my fists in the air instead of pummeling her into the dirt.
“Do you concede?” I asked with a shout.
Alexie nodded from her place on the ground, and I released her by stepping back and gathering my breath.
A ruckus sounded from the other inductees. They cheered and whooped, with Maria even whistling like a train. They rushed the circle, and everyone started talking at once.
“That was amazing!”
“I cannot believe how long that lasted.”
“How did you learn all of that?”
“That last move was so beautiful!”
I ignored their comments and offered Alexie a hand up. She took it, and together, we helped her get back to her feet.
“They are right, Martin,” Alexie said with no distinguishable expression. “You did very well. I would advise the rest of you to continue to practice if you wish to beat this one in the tournament. We will continue training every morning for the next two weeks. Then you will compete against one another, showing off what you have learned. For today, you are dismissed.”
Alexie gave me a bow which I returned and then made her way off the training grounds without another word. The other nobles continued talking to me, and I did my best to socialize with them, but other thoughts kept creeping into my mind.
Something about Alexie’s whole demeanor changed the moment I had beaten her. I wondered how many inductees had managed to do that. It seemed childish to have her ego so bruised by one defeat. There had to be something larger going on, something else that bothered her.
I really didn’t have time to ponder Madame Lilysmyth since Eamon, Razia, and Kadir continued to praise and compliment me. I thanked them, and after another round of handshakes and backslapping, they wandered back to the court. Maria and Em lingered, talking to one another. I wandered to them and joined the conversation.
“I will have to bring you up a new bouquet of lilies,” Maria offered to Em. “They will brighten your room most definitely.”
“I would like that,” Em said with a smile. “That room feels like its own greenhouse sometimes, with how many flowers you give me.”
“I figure your bees like it,” Maria suggested brightly. “And, well, I know you do not get out much so I figure the least I can do it bring nature to you,”
“You work with flowers?” I asked, intrigued.
“Maria works in the greenhouses,” Em jumped in, clearly bragging on her friend. “She is the best gardener in the whole court.”
“Stop it, Em,” Maria said, blushing.
“I didn’t know there were greenhouses here,” I admitted sheepishly.
“You should visit them,” Em suggested. She slapped her chair excitedly. “They are wonderful! I mean, I wouldn’t know because I have never been. Mama is worried about my disposition.”
“I keep trying to get my mother to tell her that nature is good for your disposition,” Maria chimed in.
“Your mother is the only reason I am allowed to have flowers in my room at all,” Em said. “It used to be so bland up there, and now, I have my own kind of plant menagerie.”
I found myself laughing with them in all their innocent enthusiasm. Em seemed to move on from our small spat before, and I was grateful. I resolved to be more courteous when it came to both of them. After all, here was Maria, defying all my first impressions with her delighted talks about flowers.
“Oh dear,” Em sighed, looking over our shoulders and interrupting the joy. “Here comes Alfred, sent to retrieve me. Back to my prison, I go.” Her tone was jovial and joking, but the sentiment didn’t quite reach her eyes, and sadness welled in my stomach.
“We will see you tomorrow, Em.” Maria leaned down to give the girl a kiss on both cheeks. I offered a weak wave that Em returned before wheeling off.
Maria and I stood awkwardly for a moment, both staring at anything other than each other. Apparently, we both had enough of the silence because we started talking at the same time.
“You do not have to--”
“If that offer is real… oh, I’m sorry, you go,” I said, holding out my hands for her to continue.
“I apologize,” Maria said, returning to the prim state. “I was only going to say that you do not need to feel obligated to come to the greenhouses. Most people find them rather boring. And hot, because of the temperatures we have to keep the plants at.”
“I was actually going to ask if I could come to the greenhouses,” I replied with a nervous chuckle. “I think they sound really interesting, actually.”
“You do?” Maria looked at me with wide, incredulous eyes.
“Yes,” I answered. “I don’t know that much about the court overall, and I’m excited to learn whatever I can.”
“Wonderful,” Maria said with a sigh of relief. “I would be happy to give you a tour. How about next week? We are going to be planting a new plot of erindites. They tend to smell a little weird the first two days when they are growing their roots, but it should be fine next week.”
“I trust your judgment,” I said with my hands in a surrender position. “Next week, it is.”
Maria clapped her hands and squealed a little. “You are going to love it, I think. Or at least have a fond appreciation for it.”
“I hope so,” I said, amused by Maria’s geeky demeanor.
She gathered her skirts and bid me goodbye. I waved after her, too, and she proceeded to skip down the path. Now alone on the training ground, I marveled over the morning and thought about how working with these young nobles over the next couple of weeks was going to be an adventure in and of itself.
19
The next week went by like a blur, and before I knew it, I was walking into the greenhouses of the castle. It felt like I was stepping into another world. Instantly the humidity struck me with a violent blast. It was misty and sticky, plopping me right in the center of the Amazon jungle or something damn close to it. Large leaves dipped low from above, and wild, colorful plants bloomed all around. Admittedly, it was gorgeous. A work of art. It reminded me of the jungle section of the Zoo where large pythons and exotic birds live.
It was also my least favorite part of the Zoo because of the temperature alone. My whole body was soaked in sweat within several minutes of being there. The greenhouses were no different. I clutched my arms closer to myself, to hide the growing pit stains.
Oddly
enough, it was kind of dark in the greenhouse with all the massive leaves. The sun broke through in violent streaks, like a laser beam. I maneuvered my way through, down a path strewn with small pebbles. I pushed leaf after leaf out of my way until I approached a clearing.
Rows of potted plants lined the center of the greenhouse, like lines at an amusement park. It was an eclectic rainbow in here, and a horde of smells penetrated my nose. I squeezed my eyes shut at the power of it, though that didn’t do anything to detract from the smell. I was fiercely reminded of a candle shop or one of the perfume sections at a department store.
“Maria?” I ventured a guess into the apparently empty greenhouse. The sticky air seemed to suck the voice right out of my throat, and I swallowed.
Suddenly, a poof of blonde curls popped up from the ground. Maria wore an industrial apron, something made of sturdy leather, that had all kinds of colors and soils splattered upon it like a Jackson Pollock painting. She wore some of the largest galoshes I’d ever seen and a pair of goggles that made her eyes twice the size.
“Ah!” I yelped when she appeared, looking like a large bug.
“Martin!” Maria said, unphased by my shocked response. She shared a huge grin, wide as a crocodile. “You came!”
She removed her goggles and snapped them above her forehead. This did nothing to help her overall look. If anything, it worsened the ensemble because her pale skin had grown red, and there was a thick red rim around her eyes where the goggles had once been. Maria was flushed but beaming.
For lack of a better phrase, Maria was in her element.
While the noblewoman might have been more put together and stereotypically beautiful with her pristine curls and powdered face, the messy outfit suited it. She wore the dirt with pride, and my admiration for her grew. Even though she also smelled like fertilizer. And not the manufactured kind. She smelled like the raw, medieval, straight-from-the-farm compost.