‘Her mothers are Morel and Bodel. Morel is a lieutenant in the Household Guard and Bodel is a healer in Highcastle village.’
‘Yes…’ began Bedrun, but he had already turned away, deliberately and with calculated rudeness, and begun talking to a finely dressed lady of the Bractaris party. The slight caught the two girls completely by surprise. A red flush spread across Bedrun’s plump face.
‘Come on Bedrun,’ said Zastra, firmly, ‘he’s not worth bothering with. They obviously enjoy being rude in Bractaris. Let’s go and see the acrobats.’
They went to see the show, but Zastra could see her friend was very upset and she seethed at her cousin’s rudeness. She could say with confidence that she had never met such a horrible person in all her life. Luckily, the show was a great spectacle and both the girls were soon revived by the athletic acrobats. Bedrun leaned over. ‘I like the young fair-haired one,’ she whispered. ‘What a lovely face he has and such bravery.’
Zastra grinned. She was used to Bedrun switching her admiration from one object to another but this was surely a new record. ‘Yes indeed,’ she agreed, ‘much nicer than pasty, oily-haired boys who mooch about like snooty stick insects.’
‘Rastran the Rotten, he should be called!’ giggled Bedrun. The girls continued to contrast the attributes of the young acrobat with the boy from Bractaris. By the end of the evening, their spirits were recovered completely. They were disappointed when Anara came over and told them it was time for them to go to bed. Zastra tried to argue that it was early and that they were nearly grown-ups, but her mother was firm.
‘Say goodnight to your uncle and cousin and then go to your room. You have lessons tomorrow as usual.’
‘Oh, Mother, do I have to talk to them? I don’t want to talk to Rastran the Rotten ever again.’
Her mother pursed her lips in strong disapproval.
‘If you mean your cousin, young lady, you are never to refer to him in that way again. You are old enough to behave with decorum. A lady is made by her own graces, not by her title.’
‘You should tell that to Rastran,’ replied Zastra, stung by her mother’s criticism. ‘He’s so rude, and you should have heard—’
‘Enough. I expect better of you Zastra. Do not disappoint me.’ Her mother’s tone allowed no argument. Zastra went and bade her uncle and cousin good night with the best grace she could muster and ran to bed.
Chapter Five
The next day, Rastran joined their classes, albeit with an air of reluctant superiority. The morning was taken up with rather dull studies of arithmetic and calligraphy. These were followed by fighting skills in the afternoon, which took place on the combat ranges outside the main castle but within the outer ramparts. Zastra always much preferred the afternoon activities, since although slender, she was tall for her age and able to compete well with boys and girls several years older than her. Since the test, she had attacked the lessons with a serious intensity, rather than her usual joy. Her father’s reaction to her failure made her determined to show him her worth in different ways. She may not be a mindweaver, but at least she could do her best in the fighting skills. Martek, the master at arms who took the lessons, always watched her with a paternal gaze and a few quiet words of encouragement. The previous week he had told her that she would be a warrior of Golmeira yet, and Zastra had blushed pink with pleasure.
This particular afternoon the first lesson was crossbow. Rastran was a very poor shot and was soon red-faced with frustration. Zastra, who was especially good at this discipline, could not help feeling an extra sense joy as every shot of hers hit the centre of the target. She knew it was wrong to gloat, but she felt that Rastran deserved to feel a bit inferior for a change. Even Bedrun, who was not the best at fighting skills, scored more points than Rastran, who finished second from bottom, only beating Heldrid, who everyone knew was blind in one eye from an accident as a baby.
‘Stupid crossbow,’ snapped Rastran. ‘I’m sure mine is broken.’
‘Oh, let me look cousin,’ said Zastra with extreme politeness. She took the weapon and in one quick movement nocked a bolt and, casually taking aim, fired the bolt true to the centre of the target.
‘No, I think it’s fine,’ she said, smiling at her cousin and returning the bow. A few of the other children sniggered and Rastran stamped off, pouting and unable to hide his tears. This made them all laugh even more, since a fifteen-year-old boy crying like a toddler in a tantrum was not a sight often seen at Golmer Castle.
The next lesson was swordplay. The children took their wooden replica weapons and padded jackets and paired up. Rastran was left on his own, looking forlorn and miserable. Bedrun, always soft-hearted, took pity on him.
‘I’ll be your partner, Rastran, if you wish,’ she said.
‘Huh!’ he spat. ‘Surely someone of decent birth can be found to be my partner, not someone adopted from who knows where. Otherwise I’m not bothering.’
Martek stepped forward and used every inch of his seven feet to face down the boy.
‘Young man, you will never treat one of my students with such rudeness again, or you will be punished, Marl’s son or not.’ His tone was authoritative, as if he was reprimanding one of his soldiers. ‘In Golmer Castle you’ll find that people are judged on their character, not who their parents are, and right now you are scoring very low indeed.’
Rastran flinched, his eyes fixed on the ground in front of his feet.
‘Zastra, perhaps you and Bedrun will both practice with your cousin,’ said Martek, turning away before Zastra could protest.
As the other students began to practice, Zastra and Rastran squared up to one another warily, each keen to win the contest. Rastran had greater reach and strength, being almost three years older, and he attacked with gusto, forcing Zastra backwards. However, she quickly realised that he was relatively uncoordinated and left himself open to the counter. Time after time, he found himself prodded and poked, until he was bruised and aching. His tears of frustration came again, but the angrier he got, the more his parries lacked thought and skill. Eventually Zastra put an end to the contest by disarming him and thrusting the tip of her wooden sword under his chin. He scowled and picked up his sword, swishing it viciously in annoyance.
‘Your turn Bedrun,’ said Zastra brightly. ‘That is, if you are not too tired, cousin?’
‘Shut up, little girl,’ he snarled, half under his breath.
‘A little girl who just beat you easily,’ giggled Bedrun.
‘I’ll show you,’ he said through gritted teeth. He narrowed his eyes, his face fixed with a look of intense concentration.
Zastra felt a familiar weight on her mind and she heard Bedrun cry out in horror. She felt a stab of fear and saw a pack of caralyx rushing towards her, teeth bared. They leapt up towards her, fangs glistening, and she felt their breath, hot and fetid against her cheek. Dimly she was aware of a terrified sobbing, then felt a sharp blow to her face. Confused and disorientated, her head felt trapped in a heavy denseness. ‘It’s not real,’ she gasped. Somehow, she knew not how, she pushed against the weight and it left her. Like a fog cleared away by a ray of sunlight, the ferocious animals vanished and she realised she was on the ground. Bedrun was lying next to her, curled in ball and screaming in terror. Zastra became aware that Rastran was standing over her, grinning with triumph. His wooden sword was raised, ready to hit her again. She rolled away from the descending blow, which glanced painfully off her ear. She realised what was happening.
‘You cheating brute!’ she cried, enraged. She launched herself at him, pelting him with blows on his face and body. He tried to hit back, but was unable to deal with the ferocity of her attack and she knocked the wooden sword out of his hand. The other children gathered round, cheering and shouting, a wall of high pitched noise. Then, from nowhere, a powerful hand pulled her sharply away and she became aware of Martek glaring at her.
‘Stop, this minute! What kind of behaviour is this? There’s no free-for-all in t
his class. Both of you come with me. The rest of you carry on with your practice.’
He dragged Zastra and Rastran into the guard room at the base of the northeast tower. They made a sorry sight; Zastra caked in dirt, her left ear red and puffy from the blow of the wooden sword, and Rastran’s nose bleeding after Zastra’s wild, uncontrolled attack.
‘Now, will someone tell me what happened?’ Martek demanded.
Zastra stared at the floor and said nothing.
‘She attacked me! Savage little beast – for no reason!’ whined Rastran through petulant tears.
‘You know the reason,’ she shot back at him.
‘What in the stars is going on here?’ interjected a deep voice. Both children jumped in shock and Zastra felt a hollow ache in her stomach as she saw her father stride into the room. Rastran seemed no less horrified to see Thorlberd following close behind.
‘They were fighting, my Lord,’ reported Martek.
Leodra looked at his daughter. ‘Fighting again, Zastra? Whenever I see you, you are causing trouble. It seems that you bring nothing but shame to me. You were specifically instructed to treat our visitors with utmost respect, yet you deliberately disobey.’ ‘That’s not fair!’ exclaimed Zastra, anger giving her courage. ‘It wasn’t deliberate, he—’
‘Do not answer back! You shall be confined to your room for the rest of the day with no food. Maybe that will give you time to ponder your actions. Try to behave like a future Grand Marl instead of some sort of street urchin.’
Rastran sniggered, but his expression quickly changed as Thorlberd lifted a gloved hand and slapped him sharply across his face.
‘And the same for you boy. You will learn to control yourself in public. Stop snivelling like a pathetic little baby.’
‘See to it, Martek,’ commanded Leodra. Zastra barely noticed how she ended up locked in her room. She lay on the bed and sobbed bitterly. She was torn between anger at the injustice of her punishment and deep hurt as she thought of her father, and how he was always angry with her.
Her mother came to see her. ‘I hear you have been fighting your cousin, Zastra? And after I asked to you treat him with honour,’ she said, saddened.
Zastra nodded dumbly.
‘Well, you have been punished, and hopefully you have learnt your lesson. Now, I know that you have got off to a bad start with your cousin, but can you please try to get along? We need our family bonds now more than ever.’
‘But he’s so horrid, I hate him.’
‘Zastra, hate is not a word I like to hear. Hate is blind and judgemental and the truth can be lost in it. Everyone has a mixture of good parts and bad parts and we must try and see those good parts, even if sometimes they are hard to find.’
‘Why do we have to be so nice to them?’ asked Zastra, plaintively.
Anara sighed. ‘Things are not as we would wish in Golmeira. There are Kyrginite raiders in the Helgarths and rumours of strange happenings in the Forest of Waldaria. Your father fears that someone within Golmeira is plotting against him. Your uncle is our strongest ally and he has pledged his personal army and his mindweavers should we need them. But he is a proud man, quick to anger, so we must be careful not to offend him. It is our duty to treat him and his son with respect, Zastra, a duty to both your father and to Golmeira. Will you promise not to fight with Rastran again?’
‘But what if he did something really bad? So that he really deserved it?’
‘I don’t believe violence is ever the best answer to a problem.’
‘But people will think I’m a coward if I don’t stand up for myself and my friends.’
‘Sometimes it is braver to refuse to fight.’
Zastra did not understand and the injustice still burned within her, but responding to Anara’s serious words she promised she would try and avoid fighting, resolving to make her mother proud.
Chapter Six
That night Zastra slept poorly, as her empty stomach grumbled and her mind kept replaying the events of the day. She awoke before dawn. Finding her door unlocked, she went to visit Dobery. He looked surprised to see her at such an hour, but as an early riser himself he was already awake and making himself breakfast. Seeing her eyeing his toasted currant bun longingly, he offered her half, which she wolfed down at great speed.
‘Goodness, child! Be careful, or you’ll choke. Have they closed the kitchens and not told me?’
‘Didn’t you hear?’ Zastra mumbled, her mouth full of crumbs. ‘I got into a fight with Rastran yesterday afternoon and was sent to my room without any food. This is lovely, thanks.’
‘Fighting, eh? I thought you were old enough now to behave better than that,’ he said, peering over his glasses.
‘But it was so unfair!’ she protested. ‘He was hurting Bedrun, and you’re not supposed to use mindweaving unless it’s important, are you? You told me that. Especially against someone you know can’t protect themselves. He’s such a cowardly cheat.’
‘Hold up!’ exclaimed Dobery. ‘Slow down and tell me what happened, while I make some chala and some more toasted buns. Would you like honey on this one?’
‘Ooh, yes please!’
He made the hot, sweet chala and poured them both a large glass. Then he spread a generous helping of honey on two toasted buns and they sat by the empty fireplace to eat. Zastra gulped her food down, scattering crumbs onto her lap.
‘Do try not to make a mess, Zastra,’ said Dobery, ‘I’ve only just tidied up.’
‘Tidied?’ She looked around in amazement. If anything, the piles of books had multiplied and the hearthrug looked ready to expire of old age. Dobery proudly pointed to a clear spot on his largest desk. The area was no larger than a slice of bread. Zastra wasn’t sure that really counted as tidying up, but she decided that it was best to make no comment. Instead, she surreptitiously brushed the crumbs from her lap onto the hideous grey rug where they would surely not cause offence.
‘Tell me what happened, from the beginning,’ said Dobery, once they had both finished eating. Zastra told him the whole story, leaving nothing out. When she came to the part where she had made fun of her cousin for his poor shooting, she felt a little ashamed.
‘I know I was mean to him, but he’s such a nasty snob. And then he used his mindweaving to distract us, and hit me while I was unable to defend myself. Poor Bedrun was absolutely terrified by the visions. It wasn’t right, was it?’
His untidy grey eyebrows dipped towards each other.
‘You were certainly wrong to make your cousin feel embarrassed by his lack of sporting skill. It was not kind of you and if you had behaved with more thoughtfulness this whole incident could have been avoided. However, your cousin was guilty of a much more serious offence. I shall have a word with Marl Thorlberd when I next see him.’
‘Oh, no, please don’t,’ said Zastra, recalling Anara’s request. ‘I don’t want to cause trouble. It’s all over now. I came to ask if you would teach me how to block mindweaving. I want to be able to protect myself and my friends.’
‘It will not be easy,’ Dobery said. ‘It will take much hard work and dedication, and it must be admitted that you’ve not always been the most attentive student in the past.’
Zastra coloured. It was true that her mind often wandered during morning lessons as she waited impatiently for the more active afternoon sessions.
‘This time I will properly concentrate, Dobery, I promise. I don’t care how hard it is.’
Dobery contemplated her request for some time.
‘Very well,’ he said finally. ‘Come to me every morning at this hour and we shall work together. But you must be prepared to put in a lot of effort.’
Zastra was not discouraged. She was determined never to be held at such a disadvantage again, even if that meant that she had to work every day for the next ten years.
In addition to requesting lessons from Dobery, Zastra paid close attention to the comings and goings of the Grand Assembly. She had never taken much notice of t
he serious business of running the country. It had all seemed so dull. However, both Dobery and Anara had spoken of Leodra’s worries about enemies, and Zastra began to wonder if these worries might explain, at least in part, her father’s attitude towards her. She desperately wished that some outside influence was responsible, rather than her own failings. She wondered if any of her father’s enemies were amongst the visitors that had filled the castle to discuss laws, taxes and other matters. She often came across small groups of grown-ups engaged in whispered conversations that would stop abruptly when she passed by, and she was not above listening in at windows and doors to try and find out what was going on. However, the assembly came and went without her having overheard anything of significance. Her father’s grim mood as the Marls departed for their lands suggested that things had not gone well. Thorlberd decided to stay on at Golmer Castle, along with Rastran, much to Leodra’s pleasure and to Zastra’s dissatisfaction.
Chapter Seven
Zastra worked hard with Dobery and within a few weeks she had learnt how to sense and block casual probes into her mind.
‘It’s like creating a smooth stone cover for your thoughts, so that the invading mind slides off and can gather no purchase,’ explained Dobery. She learnt to push away thoughts that had broken through her barriers, getting faster and stronger as the weeks wore on. She steered clear of Rastran, not wanting a confrontation until she was prepared. Fortunately, he seemed to wish to avoid her also. Maybe he had been surprised by her unexpected resistance to his mindweaving.
One morning, as Zastra was pushing away a sequence of sharp probes from Dobery, they were interrupted by the brisk entrance of Teona, highmaster of the council of mindweavers.
‘Well!’ she snapped. ‘What is occurring here, Dobery? It would appear that one of my masters is wasting his time teaching a talentless child.’
‘She may be no mindweaver, highmaster, but she is not talentless,’ Dobery replied mildly. ‘I’m teaching Zastra to defend herself against those wielding the power. She is doing remarkably well.’
Realm of Mindweavers: Book one: Tales of Golmeira Page 3