The Knight's Daughter

by S H Cooper

  She tugs my arm.

  “You can stare at them later. We’ve got to feed the animals.”

  The livestock pens are clear across the settlement and, as we make our way to them, I see just how true Reena’s words are. Women spar with men in a ring, men sit beside women and sew. There is even a woman crouched with a circle of children, teaching them to read by scratching letters into the dirt with a stick. I can’t help but stop again to look over her shoulder as she draws a shape out and has the children repeat her motions.

  “H,” she says slowly. “Like in horse.”

  Reena drags me away again with an impatient sigh.

  “She could read!” I exclaim, craning my neck to look back towards the huddled group.

  “Yeah, and?” Reena says.

  “Can you?”

  “Of course. I’m not stupid.”

  My gaze drops to the ground and I wrap my arms sullenly around my middle while I trail after her, even slower now.

  “Well, neither am I,” I mutter. “We’re just not taught how.”

  She turns to scold me for falling behind again, but when she sees my hunched, unhappy posture, she hesitates awkwardly. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just...we’re a small tribe. We all need to be as capable as possible if we want to survive. If it makes you feel any better, the only reason any of us can read at all is to keep the city folk from pulling any tricks on us when we trade. They’ll take advantage of that sort of thing.”

  I stay quiet until we reach the animal pens. None of the lasses in Moorsden can read, so it’s never been much of a sore spot for me. I’d thought about asking Joseph to teach me a few times, but I was too afraid of getting in trouble to go through with it. Now, though, I wish I had. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so inadequate and, admittedly, envious of Reena and her unapologetic confidence.

  “Grab that bucket, there,” Reena says. “That’s the pig feed. You can throw it over their fence and they’ll come eat it.”

  “I know how to feed animals,” I grumble under my breath.

  But when I go to pick up the feed bucket, I can barely manage to lift it from the ground. My arms shake with the strain and I waddle with it between my legs over to the fence surrounding the pit of mud where the pigs wallow.

  Reena folds one arm across her chest and props the other on top of it with her knuckles pressed against her lips. I can still see the amused smile behind her hand.

  I set the bucket down with a thud. “It’s heavy,” I snap.

  “I know,” she replies. “But not that heavy.”

  “Well, you do it then!”

  She steps around me and scoops up the bucket by its rope and hoists it to the top of the fence with a grunt. The pigs gather on the other side, dirty snouts pointed upwards and snuffling, and when she dumps the bucket’s contents into the pen, they set upon it enthusiastically. She swings around and grins at me.

  “See?”

  I grit my teeth and long to be back with my brothers, searching for Father’s cure.

  “So what can you do?” Reena asks while we walk to the next pen.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t read, you clearly don’t do any kind of outdoor labor. What can you do?”

  I bristle at her tone, curious and goading, and snap, “I can do a lot of things.” More grudgingly, I add, “Most of it’s just in the house.”

  “And you’re happy with that? Being a proper lady and all?”

  “Well,” I begin.

  I want to say yes. It was what I was meant to be, after all. But I’m not, and I never have been. The life of a lady might suit some, like my mother, but if I was honest with myself, it was never what I wanted. I didn’t think it ever would be, no matter how long I waited for my feelings to change.

  “No,” I say softly, as if I’m afraid of saying it aloud. “I’m not.”

  Reena tells me to grab one side of the next bucket and she takes up the other one. It’s much less of a burden between the two of us. Together, we carry it to the edge of the fence and dump it over the side for the expectant sheep. We let the bucket fall to the ground and lean over the fence, watching the animals root through their breakfast.

  “You ever thought of not being a lady?” Reena asks.

  “Aye,” I reply. What I say next comes as a surprise to me, not because of the words themselves, but because I’m finally sharing them with someone else. “I’d like to be a knight, like my father.”

  Mother had often warned me that once you give voice to your thoughts, they are out in the world forever. You can’t take them back. A lady must be careful with what she says because it can be used against her and spoil her reputation. It was why I’d not even told Joseph. But here, so far and a world away from home, actually speaking the words has made me feel free, like a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

  “A knight, huh?” Reena says. “Is that even allowed where you come from?”

  “No.”

  “So what will you do then?”

  I shrug. “I’m supposed to get married, have children, raise them while taking care of my husband and home.”

  “That sounds awful.” Reena makes a face.

  “It’s what all ladies do.”

  “Great for those that want it, I suppose, but what about the ones like you, that want something else?”

  I don’t have an answer for her. If there are other lasses like me in Moorsden, then they have all been instructed the same way I’ve been and never talk about it. Really, it has never even occurred to me that maybe someone else feels the same way I do, but has to keep it a secret. It’s oddly comforting to know that I might not be so strange after all.

  “Are you going to do it?” Reena asks.

  “Get married? I guess so. I don’t know. I try not to think about it too much.”

  “You’re the kind who always does what you’re told, aren’t you, Kitty?”

  “It’s my duty. At home, I --”

  Reena cuts me off with a scoff from the back of her throat. “You’re not at home right now, are you, finch?”

  “No, but --”

  She’s giving me a long once over. A mischievous smirk starts to grow upon her lips.

  “What?” I ask.

  The way she’s looking at me makes me fidget uncomfortably.

  “So you want to be a knight, aye?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “You ever been in a fight, Kitty?”

  I frown. “No?”

  “Do you want to be?”

  She laughs when I take a defensive step back.

  “For a girl who wants to be a knight, you are a timid thing. Come on, follow me.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask suspiciously.

  “You want to be a knight? You have to start somewhere, and I happen to know a great place to begin.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I don’t know about this,” I say from behind the closed tent flap.

  On the other side, Reena tuts impatiently. “No one’s going to look at you twice.”

  “But it’s strange.”

  “Not here, now come out before I drag you out!”

  I tug and squirm uncomfortably until Reena tears the flap aside and grabs me by the collar. I’m tugged outside with a cry of protest and immediately hug myself, feeling far too exposed. Reena rolls her eyes.

  “Oh, stop it. You’re not naked, Kitty!”

  “I know,” I reply, looking down at myself. “But it doesn’t feel right.”

  “It feels like freedom, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  The tunic and trousers she’s lent me are lighter than any dress ever I’ve ever put on. I’ve had to roll the trouser cuffs up to make up for our height difference and, when I complain about their looseness, Reena ties them off at the waist with a rope. It feels odd to be able to bend and twist without the restrictions of a laced bodice. I reach down and touch my toes, I stretch from side to side, I take big, ungainly steps back and forth, all
while Reena laughs. But I don’t care. I can’t stop marveling at how easily my body moves. The Halofain’s necklace remains hidden from sight beneath the tunic.

  “If you’re done taking your first steps like a wee child, let’s get on with things, aye?”

  It’s hard, at first, to leave the relative privacy of the tent entrance. If anyone in Moorsden had seen me like this, they’d have thought I’d gone mad. But, as Reena had said, no one looks twice as we walk through the settlement. I’m blending in more now than I had been before. Slowly, the nervous tightness in my shoulders melts away and I begin to take larger, more confident strides to keep up with my friend. Reena links her arm through mine.

  “Careful, finch,” she warns teasingly. “You keep this up, you’re going to learn to like it.”

  The small, roped off circle she takes me to already has a group of children standing around it. Inside the circle, Haroheim demonstrates the proper way to hold a dagger in front a post, from which a full sack hangs. The bottom of the sack is dark with wetness and it drips on the ground. I can smell its heavy, rotten odor even as we approach.

  “This is the best grip for a downward strike,” he’s saying when we come to stand with his attentive audience.

  “Oy, Haroheim!” Reena pushes the children in front of us to the side.

  One of them turns with growl, swinging his chubby little fist at her thigh. Reena scoffs and shoves him away with the heel of her hand against his forehead. He falls on to his backside in the dirt and shouts that Reena is a pig-nosed witch.

  “Mind your tongue when you’re talking to your betters, Tarom,” Reena says, shooing him away.

  “I’m gonna tell Mam,” he fumes up at her from the ground.

  “Ach, you whine like a city girl who ripped her petticoat.”

  “Do not!”

  “Quiet, the both of you,” Haroheim says. “You’re interrupting me teachings.”

  Reena reaches down and yanks Tarom up to set him back on his feet.

  “Sorry, Haroheim, but I’ve brought a special treat for the wee ones.”

  The children surround Reena, hopping up and down and calling for her to give them the treat. I bite my lip and can’t help but look towards the stinking bag and its dark drops.

  What kind of “treat” does she have in mind, I wonder with a splash of unease.

  “Who wants to see a real lady use a blade for the first time?” Reena pushes me by the shoulders in front of her while the children erupt into cheers.

  “Me! Me!” they cry.

  “What’re you doing?” I hiss at her.

  “You want to be a knight, you have to start somewhere. Might as well entertain the bairns while you’re at it!”

  Haroheim welcomes me into the circle with a wink. I stand uncomfortably beside him, unused to being the center of attention.

  “Give them a curtesy, why don’t you?” he encourages loudly, nodding at the children so they cheer for it.

  It’s awkward to pull off a curtesy without a dress, but I make do with my oversized pant legs. The children squeal and giggle. A few of them clumsily mimic me. I laugh too, and it helps me relax.

  “Keep an eye on her,” Reena shouts over the noise. “I’m going to check if anyone’s heading to Gladfife today.”

  My heart flutters in anticipation and I mouth my thanks to her before she heads off.

  Haroheim turns me around, so I’m facing the hanging sack. It’s even more disgusting and smelly up close and my eyes water.

  “Ugh, what’s in that?” I ask, pressing my arm over my nose.

  “Outsiders who did wrong by us,” Haroheim responds darkly.

  I whip my head around to stare at him, pale and horrified, and he just about doubles over in laughter.

  “It’s table scraps and such,” he says. “Good for a first lesson in what a blade through flesh feels like for the little ones.”

  He hands me the dagger he’d been using in his lesson and shows me the correct way to grip it.

  “This is for a simple, straightforward stab. Nice and tight, you don’t want to drop it.” To the children, he says, “Who’s ready to see the lady try her hand with a dagger?”

  They cheer again.

  Haroheim tells me where to plant my feet and how to swing my arm, following through with my whole upper body. He has me practice a few times and then, when he’s satisfied with my stance and movement, instructs me to step up close to the sack.

  “Alright, finch,” he says with an approving nod. “Take a stab at it.”

  My first attempt is a timid one. The tip of the dagger barely pieces through the rough cloth. The children think it’s hilarious.

  “You can do better than that!” Haroheim says, miming a swift and hard upward thrust. “Just imagine it’s someone you hate.”

  I inhale deeply, regret doing so just as deeply when the foul odor clogs my nose, and study the dirty sack. There isn’t a face to picture in its place. Only a name: Meverick Conan. I retake my stance and clench my jaw.

  This time, my dagger slides in so half the blade is buried.

  With the encouragement of my young onlookers, I pull it out and try again and again, until I’m able to sink the weapon in to its hilt. It’s harder than I thought it would be. Each time I pull back, a spray of putrid, thick liquid trails after and dots my arm.

  By the time I’m finished, my chest is heaving and the sack is covered in jagged holes. Some of its contents poke out of them, partially pulled out by my thrusts. I grin at the grisly sight, pleased and proud that it’s my handiwork. Haroheim gives me a hearty pat on the back as he retrieves the dagger from me.

  “There you have it, children,” he says. “Even a lady can cut you down if given the chance! Now, to keep that from happening, everyone line up and let’s take turns so we can make sure we stab the lady first.”

  Reena is waiting for me just beyond the rope barrier when I exit the circle. She wrinkles her nose at the smell I bring with me and orders me to stand up wind.

  “Got some bad news,” she says, and my good mood dampens. “The elders have ordered a three day stay of trade. No one’s allowed to go to Gladfife until it’s over.”

  “Why?” I ask, my stomach sinking.

  “They heard about our run-in with the city dwellers and want to give things time to settle again,” she explains apologetically. “They worry that if we cause too much trouble, we’ll be banned from trading in the city.”

  “But you were helping me!”

  “Doesn’t matter. What the elders say is law. We can’t go against it.”

  I groan and sink into a crouch, my forehead resting against me knees. Every day I’m away from Gladfife is a wasted one! Reena pats me on the shoulder.

  “It’s alright. Your brothers will still be there in three days,” she says.

  But I’m not sure they will be. Should they arrive and I’m not there, what will they do? Wait, or move on in the belief that I’ve gone ahead for some reason? They could leave without me.

  “You’re being a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Reena asks.

  I pick my head up. “Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”

  She regards me curiously, but nods and motions for me to follow her.

  She leads me out of the settlement, down a short hillside and through a copse of trees. The noisy burbling of a stream comes from up ahead. A group of women are sitting on overturned buckets, heavy clubs and sticks laid casually across their laps while they chat. When they hear our footsteps, they stop talking and their hands drift to their weapons.

  “It’s just me, aunties,” Reena calls, and they relax. “Come with the city bird to bathe.”

  They nod and resume their conversation while we pass.

  “What was that about?” I ask.

  “It’s the women’s day to bathe,” Reena says. “The mothers keep watch to make sure nobody sneaks up on us while we’re in the stream.”

  “And that’s enough?”

  “Oh, aye,” Reen
a giggles. “There’s a good reason they say the only thing scarier than a charging Faunir war party is a charging Faunir mother.”

  Other women and girls are already spread out in the water. Reena quickly sheds her clothes and jumps into the stream with them. I stay on the shore, uncertainly dipping my toes in.

  “It’s a bit chilly, but you’ll get used to it quick,” Reena says.

  “It’s not that,” I respond self-consciously.

  “You don’t need to be shy, if that’s it. It’s just women.”

  “No, it’s just…” I look down at my feet and mumble.

  “What?”

  “I can’t swim,” I blurt out, already defensive.

  Reena just sighs. “It’s not that deep, Kitty. You can just stand. They really don’t teach you lasses much of anything useful back home, do they?”

  I ignore her final comment and inch my way into the water. Even with the mothers guarding, I feel too bashful to undress in the open. I submerge myself up to my neck before peeling off my clothing and tossing it back on land to dry. The Halofain’s necklace remains, however, and I keep my fingers wrapped protectively around its vial. We wade as far away from the other bathers as we can and huddle close beside an outcropping of rocks.

  “What did you want to tell me?” Reena asks, her voice hushed.

  I chew my lip and keep looking over my shoulder. I don’t really want to tell Reena who I truly am or why I was in Gladfife. She’s been my friend so far, but I don’t know what kind of reach Meverick Conan might have.

  “Kitty? Are you alright?” Reena’s expression has darkened with concern.

  I’ve already trusted her once. I told her my most deeply held secret and she didn’t laugh at me or tell me it was stupid. She even tried to help me work toward it, in her own way. I rub absently at the grimy dots on my arm beneath the water.

  If I want to get back to Gladfife as soon as possible, I have no choice. I have to believe that Reena is truly my friend.

  “My name isn’t Kitty,” I admit. “And I wasn’t in Gladfife looking for my brothers.”