Court of Fives

by Kate Elliott

  But he hesitates because the first ring has already swung wide on to face us and so he has missed the best point to anticipate the jump. His lack of confidence is a knife pinning his foot to the floor.

  I spring past him and onto the first ring. Hooking fingers along the curve I shove off with my foot and launch myself to the next ring before Kalliarkos has even left the platform. I’m no longer breathing hard; I’m flying. He is not halfway along as I scramble up the ladder and grab the victor’s ribbon at the top of the tower. The feel of the cloth in my hand never gets old, even on the practice court.

  This is how it should be.

  This is what I live for.

  17

  Grinning seems like a child’s cheap boast but I can’t help it. By the way the spectators are staring I can tell I have surprised them.

  Kalliarkos reaches the ladder and with a hand on the lowest rung calls up, “You didn’t even hesitate! How do you do that?”

  His face is so open and welcoming. I like his eyes, the way they flare, how dark they are, the thick curl of his eyelashes. There is a smudge on his cheek I would wipe clean in a comradely way if he were an ordinary adversary, but I never could touch a lord like him.

  Once my heart has stopped pounding, I climb down. “You have to take enough time to study the rhythm and the pattern, not just plunge in. Once you decide, you can’t hesitate.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” He laughs as if he doesn’t care that I’ve beaten him. “You have it all in your head already. Now you just have to teach me.”

  A bird has been trapped inside my heart, wings beating. “I guess now that I’m here there’s nothing to stop us from working together every day if you want.”

  Then I hate myself, remembering my mother and sisters.

  “Are you all right?” His brows draw down in concern.

  I look around but we’re still alone. “It was a shock to leave my family.”

  He leans against the ladder like we have all day to gossip. “Do you really have three sisters and no brothers? What’s to become of them?”

  “I don’t know,” I mutter as my jubilation shatters into dread. Yet it astounds me that he even thought to ask about them.

  “Being here is a great opportunity for you. I can give you news about your father’s campaign. Any prize money you earn you can give to your family.”

  I must blink ten times as his words sink in. If I pass muster, Garon Stable is the best place I could be.

  He smiles as if my startled expression is the best reward he’s ever been given. “Didn’t you already think of that?”

  “I didn’t ask to come, my lord.”

  “I deserved that! You would say it was easy for me to forget how you got here, wouldn’t you?”

  His casual stance and confiding words confuse me. “You don’t act like—” I bite the words back, recollecting prudence and propriety.

  “Like what? Go on.”

  “The way lords are supposed to act.”

  “The way my uncle Gargaron takes what he wants when he wants it? The way my grandmother is the sweetest woman you could ever meet, until her will is crossed? The way my sister…” He shifts so his broad shoulders press along a rung, and he crosses his arms. “I decided years ago not to be like them.”

  Daringly I say, “What did you decide to be like?”

  He examines me intently. “Why do you want to know?”

  A shrill whistle interrupts us.

  “We better go,” I say.

  He walks ahead as he must because he is a lord. When we emerge together onto the forecourt, Tana is waiting. I can’t interpret the straight line of her mouth.

  “Lord Kalliarkos, if you will, get a cup of broth from Cook. You too, girl. We’re changing up the obstacles and you will run against Gira and Dusty.”

  My grin returns. I am so ready to run again.

  Tana notes my anticipation with a flick of a finger that whisks a piece of sawdust off my elbow. “You’re not what I expected.”

  “Come on, Jessamy. They won’t give us much time to recover.” Kalliarkos taps my arm and flashes another of his grins.

  The casual touch of his hand makes my smile vanish. It’s foolish to be flattered by his attention, so I put on my game face. We walk to the dining shelter to drink a cup of broth swimming with bits of meat and herbs like heal-all and brave-man’s-iron. The rich liquid slides down my dry throat.

  Kalliarkos sips. “I always hesitate on Rings. It’s like I have to wait until it’s exactly right and I’m exactly sure before I can go in.”

  “You have to make your own openings, Lord Kalliarkos.”

  “Just call me Kal. We’re all adversaries here in the stable.”

  No matter how well we get along we will never be just fellow adversaries, but I nod because when a Patron gives you an order, you obey it. “All right. My sisters call me Jes.”

  The thought of my sisters chokes me all over again. What will Merry do now she’s lost any chance of being an Archivist? Poor Amaya and her broken dreams. Will Bett desert them and Mother? Where will they sleep? How will they live? I hope the broth’s steam swirling around my face disguises the tears that prick in my eyes.

  This time he is so wrapped up in his own troubles that he doesn’t notice. “I went to the stable by Scorpion Fountain. That woman Anise turned me away. She said I would just bring trouble down on her and her people.”

  He’s so indignant. He doesn’t want to be like other lords, yet it has never once occurred to him that the rest of the world won’t just give way when he gives them that cheerful smile.

  “She probably guessed that you are connected to a palace.”

  “I didn’t tell her my name!” He leans closer, watching me. “Whatever you’re thinking, you can say it to me.”

  It’s uncanny how well he understands me. I know I shouldn’t feel this comfortable with him but I do, so I risk truth. “Your clothes and your highborn looks and the way you carry yourself tell a woman like Anise everything she needs to know about who you are and why you have come to her begging for training.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I sigh. “If you got angry at her or demanded special treatment, you could make trouble for her. If you were hurt, she could lose everything, even her life. She’s a Commoner, and you are a palace lord. Surely you see she might not want to risk having you there.”

  He frowns.

  I turn my mug around to do something with my hands. “You said they won’t train you here, but they are training you here. I don’t understand why you think you need Anise.”

  “Real adversaries train every day except Sevensday. It’s their life. It’s all they do. But I have duties in the palace. I have a tutor. I have to learn the Precepts. I have a sword-master and a driving instructor. I’m required to attend court functions even though I have no interest in gaining influence at court. I want to train every day but my uncle forbids it by requiring me to do all these other things. If I show up here on days when he’s not given me permission to train, Tana and Darios must turn me away. Not that I fault them for their obedience,” he adds hastily. “It’s a trap my uncle has set for me.”

  “Can’t Lord Thynos train you? Doesn’t your mother have some say in this? She’s Princess Berenise’s daughter, isn’t she?”

  With a finger he draws a circle on the steam-dampened table like drawing a circle around words he knows he’s not supposed to say. “No, she isn’t. My father is Princess Berenise’s son, but he died years ago. Because my mother was brought from old Saro to marry my father, she has no support among the lords and royal court here in Efea. That means her brother, Thynos, has no power either. He is completely dependent on my mother’s treasury. He runs the Fives because he needs the prize money to keep up a separate establishment so he doesn’t have to live in Garon Palace. Even my sister is afraid of Uncle Gar. The only person I’ve ever seen stand up to him is my grandmother when she told him to give me a chance to prove myself
at the Fives.”

  His confession emboldens me to ask a question I would never have dared ask a lord before this moment sitting over cups of broth. “I know you said you don’t want to go into the army, but would it be so bad? Of course a soldier might die in battle but an adversary can die on the Fives court from a bad fall. You gain honor and reputation either way.”

  A bleak expression darkens his face. “There’s more to my situation than that.”

  Voices interrupt us. His hand tightens on the cup. Adversaries stroll in under the shelter, ostensibly to take a draught of passionflower juice or a cup of broth but obviously because they are curious about Kalliarkos and me. He bends toward me exactly as a conspirator would. With everyone looking I should not respond, but I lean closer too. His breath heats my cheek.

  “Maybe we could go to Anise’s together. You could introduce me, tell her I won’t ask for special treatment. That I’ll behave just like all her other Novices.”

  “Let me think about it,” I temporize.

  Darios beckons.

  “We should go limber up,” I say with relief.

  Kalliarkos rises. “This run won’t be as easy. Dusty has already run seven Novice-level trials, and won one in the provinces. Gira—Giraffe is her Fives name—is a ranked Novice, with five victories, like me. She’s good.”

  “So am I,” I retort.

  He grins.

  Tana assigns me to Trees again and Kalliarkos to Rivers. Gira, the tall woman, gets Pillars, and Dusty starts on Traps.

  I chalk up at Trees. The conversation whirls in my head: His confiding manner. His dark eyes. He’s so easy to talk to. He listens. All these thoughts slow me down and make me stumble. I have to wall them off and focus.

  The start bell sounds.

  Anise taught us that when a court is changed quickly, it means the big things remain the same but subtle tricks have been introduced, easy-to-overlook details meant to catch you up. So it proves: on Trees they have shifted one set of posts closer together and removed the handholds to create what is called a “blind shaft.” I have to brace my back on one post and my feet on the other to work my way up. They’ve added an extra rope and beam to complicate Traps, but balance is easy for me. Pillars has a few shifted canvas walls. Rivers is exactly the same only they have greased all the roundels, which I am fortunate enough to notice when the sunlight glints off them. I take the crossing at a speed that is almost but never quite uncontrolled so my feet don’t press for long enough to slip.

  I hit the resting platform for Rings at the same time as both Kalliarkos and Gira. I dodge between them and leap at the last possible moment, just before the first ring turns edge on. As I twist to squeeze through sideways my nose scrapes the wood. I jump again. At the sixth leap I throw in a spin and by the last I have enough momentum to launch myself into a tight somersault and still land perfectly.

  When I swarm up the ladder to the victory tower Gira lets out a whoop from the base as Kalliarkos trots up behind her. From a post in Trees, Dusty shades his eyes as he spots me at the top.

  I climb down.

  “That was splendid!” cries Kalliarkos.

  Gira slaps me so hard on the shoulder that I stagger. “Hammer’s Curse, girl. You spun those Rings like a spider on a filament.”

  I can’t stop grinning. “Nothing is better than this!”

  Kalliarkos bumps me, shoulder to shoulder. “This is where you’re meant to be, Jes. Many successful adversaries support their families off their winnings.”

  Gira glances between us but says nothing. I’m still floating on my victory but my smile fades as we reach the forecourt where Tana and Darios are waiting. Lord Thynos ambles up, looking at me in a way that makes me shiver. I’ve drawn too much notice on myself when I should have won in a less showy manner. For all that he pretends to treat Tana and Darios as equals, they give a dip with their chins and step back.

  “Now I’m intrigued,” he says. “Tana, set up a new course. Run her against me, Inarsis, and Talon.”

  Inarsis is the Commoner man somewhat older than my father whom I saw in the bathhouse. He comes up beside Thynos, chuckling. “The way she flew across those Rings gave me a turn. My old bones can’t match that.”

  Only a man who knows he can beat me would make such a joke. He catches my eye and nods, and my courage falters.

  Talon is the name of the silent Patron girl. The look she gives me is as friendly as an asp.

  “You must want another cup of broth before you run again,” Kalliarkos says as he again nudges my shoulder so companionably that I reflexively thump his shoulder back.

  “Go away, Kal.” Lord Thynos waves a hand in dismissal.

  Kalliarkos’s chin comes up. Suddenly he looks a lot like a prince surprised that a man whose grandmother is not Princess Berenise feels free to order him around.

  “Nephew, you may go.”

  Age trumps royal blood. Kalliarkos retreats to the dining shelter, glancing several times over his shoulder. Thynos doesn’t need to give the order to anyone else. They clear off.

  He is a good-looking man ten or twelve years older than I am. This year, as an Illustrious, he will run for the champion’s wreath at the King’s Trials at the Royal Fives Court.

  He takes a step closer to me. “I’ve finally figured it out. You’re the brown girl, the one who lost on purpose to Kal. You can’t hide your flair. It’s striking and attractive.”

  He doesn’t mean attractive as a hopeful lover would use the word. He means it as an adversary considering the skills of a competitor. Victory matters, but flair seduces the crowd.

  He takes hold of my chin and turns my head to one side and then the other, gripping so hard that my jaw aches. “What in the hells does Gar want with you?”

  “He wants me to run the Fives, my lord,” I say in a squeezed voice.

  “There is more to this than that. Does Kal know you’re the girl?” He releases me and his gaze narrows. “Of course he knows. Who exactly are you? That you’re a mule I can see. What else? Don’t lie.”

  If he kills me right here he will never be called to account for my death.

  Yet because I run the Fives I cannot help but sort through the implications, just as I analyze Rings before I go in. Will telling him about my father give me an advantage, or will it hurt my tenuous status? Can I lie convincingly? Will Lord Gargaron tell him the truth, if Thynos asks because he is dissatisfied with my answer? Are he and Gargaron allies or enemies in whatever internal politics trouble the peace of Garon Palace?

  I have to make a decision, so I leap.

  “My father is Captain Esladas, the hero of Maldine.”

  “By the gods!” He rocks back as his chin comes up. “Does your father acknowledge you? Was your mother his youthful concubine? A whore, perhaps?”

  As if Bettany’s shadow slips inside me, all the helpless rage I have had to hold in claws out. My arm comes up, hand in a fist.

  “He kept faith with her, and she with him!”

  I have betrayed too much. With every particle of my being I breathe calm back into my shadow. The blaze of fury cools as I lower my arm and uncurl my fingers.

  He catches both the move and my restraint, and his brows draw down more in curiosity than in affront. He is too powerful to fear me.

  “The hero of Maldine. My niece’s new husband. A man about forty years of age who, so the story goes, was wedded to the army and never to a woman, for he served the king and queen with his whole heart. But the story that was sung at my niece’s betrothal feast missed a few verses, did it not?”

  “Her betrothal feast was last night?” I blink as the words sink in. Lord Gargaron hadn’t even asked Father before he announced and celebrated his niece’s forthcoming marriage. He was that sure Father would agree.

  Lord Thynos lifts a hand to command my wandering attention.

  “I ask again. What does Lord Gargaron want with you?”

  “I could not say what is in the lord’s mind. But surely my presence at th
is stable will improve its reputation.” I hold his gaze for just as long as I dare before dropping mine.

  “No wonder Kal likes you. You have the confidence and the spine he lacks.”

  I want to defend Kalliarkos but I know better. I keep my mouth shut.

  “Now we shall see if you can pass muster,” he adds with a heartless smile. “Your first two runs were just a warm-up. This is your test.”

  18

  Once, and only once, Father told us about the battle in which he won his captaincy.

  At that time, twelve years ago, he had already risen to become a sergeant in command of a cohort of thirty-six spider scouts. Sergeant is the highest rank to which a man of his birth could aspire. The desert garrison was part of a string of small forts put in place to guard against the incursions of barbarians, desert bandits, and the merchant-mercenaries called Shipwrights who raid villages for slaves and supplies. One day, outside an isolated village on the edge of the Sand Desert below the Bone Escarpment, the vanguard of an unknown force brushed the web of scouts.

  A hundred years ago, when the last emperor was murdered, the empire of Saro splintered into the three kingdoms of Saro-Urok, West Saro, and East Saro. Many rival princely clans fought among themselves across the imperial homeland, each hoping to claim a kingdom.

  After surviving an assassination attempt, Prince Kliatemnos heeded the advice of his wise elder sister, Serenissima, and set sail across the Fire Sea. With their three younger sisters and many ships full of soldiers and refugees, they made landfall in the dusky and mysterious land of Efea with its beautiful women and magical masks. Kliatemnos married the last living daughter of the old Saroese imperial house, but it was his elder sister he named as queen to rule beside him. Together they overthrew the luxury-loving Efean monarchs who did nothing but drink beer and write poetry all day, and they buried the temples of the fraudulent Efean diviners and their vile superstitions beneath mounds of dirt and crushed rock.